#also you can ask employees for things and not just assume anything on their cart is fair game bc it’s not

[s-cullayy]

Idk what it is about grocery stores that makes people lose all sense of spatial awareness but fucking look where you’re going. Don’t park your cart right in front of the wet wall where no one can get past. Don’t just stop and stand wherever you were walking. There are signs. Read them. LOOK AROUND YOU. Employees shouldn’t have to say excuse me several times just to get through when they’re holding heavy items. You are not the only person here. You are not the main character. Be aware

[jtl-fics]

Fluent Freshman - Part 12

PREVIOUS

If there was one thing no one would ever guess about FF it is that he unapologetically LOVES Black Friday.

You may be thinking. Ugh Black Friday. Everyone is so rude and tired. The deals aren’t even that good. It can turn into a blood sport at the drop of a hat over a toaster that is 15% off.

You are correct.

That is why FF loves it.

It is the one shopping day of the year where every single one of his instincts are correct, valid, and useful. He has pulled his gran out of the way of elbow drops, he has avoided the gaze of a woman in PINK sweat pants who was looking for someone to steal a blender from, and he knows without a doubt that the cashier hates him already so there’s no need to worry about whether or not they hate him.

It’s like a breath of fresh air!

Everyone is just as antagonistic and awful as he thinks they are!

Shopping is actually the blood sport he always feels like it is!

So there he is standing in a line at the nearest store (Target) waiting to be let in with the masses who all look ready to stab one another for better positioning for a TV. The jokes on them though because his only goal is the grocery section and he deals with the threat of repeated stabbings for BREAKFAST.

He spots an IHOP in the distance and hopes his gran doesn’t feel too lonely. They’ve gotten buttermilk stacks together at the IHOP by the mall for years after the two of them finished Christmas Shopping.

Someone elbows him in the side to get his spot in line but FF does not really care. Again, he doubts any of these people are going to be racing him to the all purpose flour.

It’s 4 AM and the barricades come down.

There’s a rush of people pushing and shoving but FF just steps to the side and watches as they all rush in. He’d mostly stayed in the line because the throng of people made it easier to stay warm. He had left his jacket back at the house because the five hour energy might be making his skin feel super sensitive but he is pretty sure that if he wore his nylon jacket he would die.

The five hour energy also may be upping his anxiety just a little bit.

He walks into the store at a leisurely pace and while the crowd fights over the carts he grabs one of the baskets. He can feel the eyes of other shoppers all wondering if he has some insider knowledge on a good deal that would only require the basket or if it’s a matter of who gets to the back to receive the ‘redeem’ coupon.

He sees a few shoppers get lured in by his siren call and much like a siren following anything that FF is about to do will undoubtedly lead to their downfall.

But FF doesn’t care about that.

He cares about HIS downfall.

So he makes his way to the grocery section and ignores the six different shopping assistants who try and guide him to where he ‘should’ be shopping and each of them only give him increasingly confused looks when he states his intention to go to the grocery section every single time.

Is it easier to ignore their stares when the five hour energy have set his baseline heart rate to something that might be too fast to register as a heartbeat? Maybe.

It is easier to ignore the confusion on their faces when he can see both the past (he asked for TWO favors from Andrew in one day how is he still alive???) and the future (still malleable at the moment apparently. There’s even a future where Andrew actually just is trying to make overtures of friendship but he dismisses that one as INCREDIBLY unlikely and looks at the far more viable one where Andrew at least makes his death quick while he enjoys his great gran’s brownies.)

It’s good to set reasonable goals for yourself.

So he arrives at the grocery section which is deserted aside from one employee who may or may not be asleep against a shelf. FF looks and….not a shelf he needs so he is not about to wake that poor man up.

So he gets everything he needs for his great gran’s brownies (he’s trying to buy his life here so he is not about to assume he can use ANYTHING in the house), the ingredients for a good breakfast (because he really needs to eat something that is not a five hour energy or sugar for the sake of his poor stomach and he may as well get enough for everyone), and (since Captain Neil mentioned it & he is trying to buy his life here) the ingredients to bake another pie.

While he grabs cinnamon he checks to see if they have grandma’s love in stock but, alas, it continues to be unavailable commercially.

He stares at the whipped cream for so long that the employee asleep in the other aisle woke up and asked if he needed help and, startled, he dropped it in his basket. “No I’m good.” He says before power walking out of the grocery department and deciding to brave the Home Goods section to buy some incense so that he can hopefully channel the spirit of his great gran to assist him in this, the darkest of his baking hours.

He arrives at the check out stations and finds the shortest line .

He can feel eyes on him, inspecting his purchases, judging them, judging him, who the fuck goes grocery shopping during the Black Friday rush?

FF.

FF goes grocery shopping during the Black Friday rush.

The cashier looks for hidden cameras but FF has no such thing accompanying him today or ever (as far as he knows.)

After a moment the cashier must look at the ever growing line and decide that whatever scheme they think FF is up to isn’t worth trying to figure out. They offer a membership card, FF valiantly declines to get one despite the two attempts.

He is out the door with four bags of groceries that all have a target on them that feels a little too correct. It’s 6 AM now (he really did lose a lot of time at the whipped cream section) and he’s walking back to the house in Columbia.

He actually feels a little bit better since he at least got to experience his actual favorite blood sport (sorry Exy) and he even got another 2 five hour energies while he was in the check out line so he could replace some of the ones that he had gone through.

“Smith?”

He would like to thank the combined weight of the groceries for keeping his feet on the ground when he heard Captain Neil’s voice.

He turns and Captain Neil is looking at him wide-eyed in his running gear that Smith has seen him in. “You were shopping??” He asks.

FF nods and lifts up the four bags as evidence. “Why didn’t you pick up your phone?” He asks.

FF almost scoffs but he doesn’t, “You can’t be distracted when you’re in a Target on Black Friday. That’s how you take an elbow to the eye.” He responds because it’s like Captain Neil has never experienced the WWE-like environment of Black Friday shopping.

Captain Neil blinks at him.

“Text Andrew or me next time you’re going to go off into the night or just let us know beforehand. Andrew would have driven you.” Captain Neil says and grabs two of the bags out of FF’s hand. “C’mon let’s get back and maybe you can get some sleep.” Captain Neil sighs.

“I’m fine.” FF adjusts the bags so he has one in each hand.

Captain Neil does not say anything so FF assumes that he has accepted that.

***

FF had not been asleep on the couch when Neil had walked through the living room. Neil, in a move that had Andrew fully waking up, went back to the room to check his phone to see if FF had texted him an update on going out. All that greets Neil is the impersonal series of texts that mostly confirmed when practice times had been changed, when the bus was leaving, and spelling on various Spanish words.

FF isn’t a big text person.

He’s more of an in-person kind of friend.

Neil likes that about him most of the time.

“What.” Andrew asks face still half buried in Neil’s pillow.

“Smith isn’t on the couch.”

That has Andrew getting up despite the early hour and their activities the night before. Neil watches as Andrew grabs his own phone to scroll through but seems to come up with the same lack of communication that Neil does.

Andrew does do the extra step and hit the call button.

But all he gets is the confirmation that the VM has not been configured that has greeted them every time FF misses their calls. (Voicemails make FF anxious so when he got his new phone he just…never configured it.)

Neil knew that FF was not pleased with them and somehow the calm request to either stop fooling around or let him out had hit him and Andrew harder than any of the screaming demands that the two of them were usually met with from Nicky, Kevin, Aaron, or any of the other Foxes.

“You said he wasn’t mad.” Neil says.

“He nodded.” Andrew confirms.

“Maybe he went on a walk?” Neil tries as they come out to the living room. They look at the front door and find that it’s locked but it looks like Aaron’s keys are gone. “He probably is going to come back if he took Aaron’s keys since Aaron wouldn’t be the one he’d be irritated with.” Neil rationalizes.

“He didn’t bring his jacket.” Andrew says looking at the black jacket still on the hook by the door.

“We can go and see if we spot him.” Neil offers.

Andrew nods and Neil heads out first since Andrew is still in his sleeping clothes and will need some time.

Neil had not expected to find FF walking back to the house with groceries for breakfast and the pie that Neil had mentioned hoping they could bake at the house.

“Is this for the pie?” He asks looking down at what was in the bags he was carrying as the walked back to the house. Neil managed to shoot off a quick text letting Andrew know that it was fine, FF just went grocery shopping.

FF just nods, “Got everything but Grandma’s love.” He says.

FF is a nice guy to brave the stores on a morning like this but FF also looks like he hasn’t slept a wink.

“Did you sleep at all last night?” Neil asks.

“I’m fine.” FF repeats.

Neil really is starting to understand his friends’ hatred for the phrase.

They get back to the house and Andrew is sat out in the living room. FF stops and blinks at the sight of him sitting there.

It is a well-known fact that Andrew does not willingly wake up early most days unless he has to. Neil is glad that Andrew has a friend that he’s coming to care about the way Andrew cares about FF.

Andrew gets up and yanks the bags out of FF’s hands. “Go to sleep. Today will be irritating if you’re half-asleep.” He says with a scowl and walks to the kitchen to put away the groceries FF had bought.

FF just looks at where Andrew had gone uncomprehendingly for a few moments and Neil figures he’s just tired. Neil feels guilty that him and Andrew messing around in the car like that had rendered FF unable to sleep and the two of them had agreed last night that from now on when FF is in the car they can talk all they want but hands stay on the wheel and eyes stay on the road.

FF is plopped down on the couch when Andrew and Neil come out of the kitchen after putting away the groceries (“These are the ingredients for brownies.” Andrew had noted as he put away melting chocolate.) and he’s looking through his flashcards again and not sleeping. He hears Andrew make a disgusted noise next to him and the next thing he knows Andrew is smacking the cards out of FF’s hands.

“Go. To. Sleep.” Andrew enunciates.

FF stares at him, then down at the flashcards. “I don’t think I can.” He says which is better than him lying and saying he wasn’t tired even if the truth had Andrew’s mouth stretch into a thin line that meant he was beating himself up for something.

“Try.” Andrew orders. “Just lay down and close your eyes. Nothing will happen to you while you’re sleeping.” He says.

FF blinks but nods turning on the couch and laying down. The blanket is still over on the lazy boy that Neil had set it on the night before and Andrew rolls his eyes before grabbing it and tossing it over FF.

“Thanks.” FF says before closing his eyes.

Neil looks to Andrew who nods and Neil accepts that there’s nothing else to be done for now and heads out on his run.

***

FF can admit that he’s a bit adrift in what Andrew and Captain Neil are doing right now.

He really should go grab another five hour energy because falling asleep IN FRONT of an irritated Andrew Minyard feels like a death sentence but “Nothing will happen to you while you’re sleeping.” And having a blanket thrown over him did not feel like a threat even if he can feel Andrew’s eyes watching him.

FF is tired and when he’s tired he tends to make stupid decisions. So FF lets himself drift off to sleep while the man who was likely going to move him to a secondary location sat and watched.

His dreams are not peaceful.

He’s running, can’t escape, an echo of words he should have considered before letting himself drift off and he knows he’s going to DIE.

He wakes up with a start to the smell of bacon, eggs, and hashed browns with Nicky standing over him. “Hey there sleeping beauty! I made you a plate!” He says and hands FF a plate of breakfast that smiles up at him with a bacon mouth, egg eyes, and hashed brown hair.

FF takes the plate and digs in immediately. He needs his strength.

“Today will be irritating if you’re half-asleep.”

Andrew Minyard was going to hunt him for SPORT.

NEXT

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[i-need-air]

Hybrid!AU Wolf!Bakugou Katsuki HCs.

Summary: How would Hybrid!Bakugou would react to being adopted by the reader and their domestic life together. Headcanons and believe me, it's a long one... [2k WORDS OF HCS psjxksdj stop me pls] PLATONIC/ROOMMATES HCS, will do a part two later on with continuation and romance cuz 2kwordsbro...

Notes: I love Hybrid AU!s and I want to indulge myself with this. I barely see these in the fandom, so maybe you guys will like it! Also, depending on how it goes, I'm gonna consider making more for other characters, whachu say? Tell me what you thought and I hope you enjoy!~ ♥

Part 2 here!

× he's a wolf hybrid, and the workers at the shelter warn you that he's feral as you pass by where he was locked

× it seems he was in an illegal fighting ring and nobody could get close to him even if his living conditions now were much better than the hell hole he lived in before

× he growled, scratched, yelled, overall he needed so much help

× normally that would've been very intimidating to you but while the workers tried to push you towards some bunny or dog hybrids they had around, you just froze because the mf said they were considering sacrificing him

× like wHat the fuck?? he's a human being?????? sure he has a tail but what????????

× and you just foken went crazy for a moment cuz you didn't even see him in his cage, he was hiding somewhere under the bundle of blankets he had, probably asleep

× so you just went mental, demanding an explanation because hybrid shelters do not and should not sacrifice a person

× and your increasing yelling just made all the hybrids anxious

× and Bakugou heard everything [who wouldn't]

× i shit you not, the employee tried to explain why

× legit said cuz he's aggressive

× Bitch I'd be aggressive too! I'd bite your jugular off

× course, security was called but you already prepared to call the police, Hybrid Protection Services, your lawyer, your friends, the president, you name it

× and that's when you said you're adopting whoever was under the blankets. NOW.

× always hated the word adopting, but you were looking to give a hybrid a chance since you finally had a spare bedroom in your new apartment

× so like security and the worker just look at each other cuz who tf is gonna be the brave soul to go inside the cage to retrieve Bakugou Katsuki and get rid of you both already

× you're just staring at them like u srs bro? so you just send them to do the paperwork while you decide to go in yourself because you needed to get out of that place ASAP to still contact HPS on this shelter

× security stayed by the door while you hesitantly walked towards the blanket bundle [not so brave anymore] cuz why did that dude have his gun out??????

× but when you approached the bundle and kneeled in front of it you noticed movement

× a fluffy sand yellow tail suddenly came to view and it was big, slowly moving from side to side

× so with the gentlest voice you could muster [after screaming your lungs out moments ago] you tried to talk to whoever was underneath

× you introduced yourself and said you're here to take them home but got nothing, just casual tail movement

× Big Hunkus Brutus Security Guardus™ was getting impatient so he told you to just "fuckin put the collar and leash on the stupid beast" and you just 🙃 fucking excuse u?? while turning towards him

× it was a delicate time and you needed to take it slow, and anyway you knew you'd get that crap off your [hopefully] new friend as soon as possible

× what you didn't expect was the guard to freeze and raise his gun again, but was pointing above your head, not even looking in your eyes

× so you turn and meet a naked chest, scarred, with recent bruising on and big

× looking up you see Bakugou Katsuki, ruffled blonde hair, wild in all directions, red eyes harsh and staring at the guy behind you, only some pants on his form and tail still waving very slowly behind him

× while Chunkus Brutus trembled in place, gun shaking in hands, you were in the fuckin middle of it all

× what you didn't expect is the hybrid to take the collar in your hands and wrap it around his neck, now looking at you, expression still harsh but this time it didn't scream murder [and then grabbed a shirt, thank the heavens]

× progress? making friends? good first impressions?

× na lol you wish but that's spoilers 👀

× the process of adoption went smoothly, and when I say smoothly I mean Robustus Dumbus Brutus behind both of you with his hand still on his gun while all the workers gathered around to see the crazy insane person that adopted The Devil™, the guy that told you about the sacrificing was actually filing the paperwork as fast as possible under the intense gaze of the wolf

× and Bakugou was standing very close to you, btw, like i can feel your body heat close

× he was compliant at first, when you got in the car you started rambling about your house and how he has a room while trying to take the collar off him but he grabbed your hands

× like insanely fast, one blink and firm grip on your hands

× "i ain't gon be your fuckin pet, understood?" he growled at you but made no movement to bolt and run away

× and you just wanted to roll your eyes cuz ok he can kill you anytime but like didn't he get the message when you screamed back there? [also there was this sense of security you had around him or maybe you were just really dumb]

× so when you said you weren't looking for a pet but to help someone and maybe a friend and roommate, he just narrowed his eyes at you

× suspish human, wild doggo no trust

× anywho he took the collar off himself [like extra fast] but you explained that you are going to get him a bracelet or something less degrading since he still needed something with the information tag to have on himself so police will know he's no stray and he wouldn't end in the same craphole again

× journey home was silent, like eery silent

× he just looked out the window intensely, you noticed how he focused on every sign and turn

× you considered asking him questions but honestly with his past you doubted he would even answer so you just started to ramble about your home, stuff you could do around the city [which caught his attention], items you'd have to go buy for him, like clothes, shampoo, any special food, the bracelet

× he stopped looking out the window and just looked at you

× ok he was intensely staring at your side, basically drilling a hole in your cheek with those crimson eyes and it was making you N e r v o u s because making new friends is hard when you're just vomiting monologs, all while driving

× buying things was awkward to say at least, special hybrid stores were rare and for a guy his size it was even more difficult to find anything, which ended up in getting normal clothes and deciding to adjust them for his tail

× while grocery shopping you discovered he actually knew very well what he wanted after a lot of questioning from you

× he finally sighed at your persistent act and just threw stuff in the shopping cart, a surprising amount of spices too

× now for the bracelet part... you decided to spend more on a code that could be scanned to identify him rather than the distasteful ones with name and who owns him

× good thing you planned ahead a long time ago and saved money but you did notice his sharp eyes on you whenever you paid

× and his grunts and judgemental looks at other people with hybrids

× it's as if he wanted to say something, anything, but was stopping himself, which lowkey worried you because from what you heard Bakugou's supposed to be very vocal

× maybe he was glad to be out of the shelter, you know you'd be

× you get home and he follows you to your house, again giving him another chance to bolt somewhere away from you but c'mon both of you knew he'd outrun you so why force him, just let him take his time

× "So this is your room" shook him to the core, legit he just stood silent in the hallway as you presented your house calmly

× sniffing around

× so much sniffing around, tail low while he checked every corner

× once he did decide to check his bedroom, he closed the door leaving you to set everything up

× what you didn't know is that he looked around, shaking with anger

× this is what normal people have?

× sat on the edge of the most confortable bed he's ever had and hoped the idiots of his friends managed to get something like this too

× and the shitshow began when you called him for dinner

× not enough salt, not enough spices

× he was a pain in the ass and as he let go, little by little you started to see him for who he was

× this, this was Bakugou Katsuki, the guy that started to scold you because of the seasoning of the food

× it formed a bond between you, the start of you seeing his real personality

× a Mom™

× slowly started owning the house, although you found it hilarious

× next day you found him cooking breakfast with such an ease it shocked you to the core

× "The fuck you lookin' at?" as he puts a plate of pancakes in front of your

× you just lowkey uwu when you realize he's waiting for your approval as you ate and I swear to you, best pancakes ever

× chest puffed when you complimented his food and this was the first time he mentioned something about his past; seems he had to cook for everyone at the fighting ring he was at, but he didn't mention more

× talking about his past took forever, putting together bits and pieces he mentioned, yet they were so little

× he'd go silent after mentioning his [what you assumed] friends

× if you asked or pressed too much he'd click his tongue or snap at you

× not everything was dandy though; yes, he was a good roommate, but he did have THE attitude

× but not as the people at the shelter made it to be, like he'd snap at you from time to time but it would get better as he'd start to trust you

× ok, ok, hear me out,,,,

× play with his hair

× it happened by accident; you started to have this tradition after a couple of months of living together: movie nights

× he really liked action stuff but both your dirty secret was watching those shitty horror movies and make fun of everyone in them, so every Friday Night was Movie Night

× he just threw himself on the couch and his hair looked puffy and those adorable wolf ears were twitching, you straightforwardly asked him if you could play with it

× [ask if you don't want your hand bit off]

× he scoffed

× silence

× when he nodded and looked away, you squealed and started scratching, just playing with his hair, mindlessly doing so while snickering at the TV when movement caught your attention

× he was wiggling his tail softly

× you guys never mentioned it but now he sits down on the sofa head close to you on a pillow and wait for them god sent scratches; will 100% roll his eyes and scoff at you when you start, acting like YOU want this

× TERRITORIAL AS FUCK

× seriously glares at whoever comes inside the house

× has a problem with every single soul since they dirty his home

× you don't notice it first but he finally starts calling your house home and that's the ultimate progress

× boy had a lot of hardships in his life so he appreciates what he has

× yet it is very, very hard to gain his trust at first

× when you finally do though? he's a loyal friend forever

× he's thankful to have you

× will never ever ever ever ever ever ever ever tell you

× his actions speak for him

× you're part of his pack now

× but seriously wash the dishes or you'll die.

[heymacy]

I love all those sentence prompts you just posted.😂 But I feel like the most appropriate one is probably:

“So why did I have to punch that guy?”

Thank you Arrow!! 💗

Ridiculous Sentence Prompts: "So why did I have to punch that guy?"

--

There were only a few things left in the world that made Mickey really, really angry.

The first was their property manager, Melanie, and her stupid-ass dog with its stupid, stupid diaper.

The second was the fact that a single can of beer cost four times more on the West Side than it did back in their old neighborhood. What special brand of bullshit were these crunchy granola hippies trying to churn out at the Wine, Etc. store, anyway?

The third thing, and probably the only one that would stick around after he adjusted to his new life above the poverty line, was any time that anyone disrespected, hurt, or even mildly annoyed his husband.

Every time they dealt with an irritating client or an overzealous new employee, Mickey would clench his teeth and fight the urge to knock them on their ass. One hit was all it would take, he knew that for certain. He'd taken down Ian's exes, family members, hell, even Ian himself on a few occasions, with a single punch to the throat.

Now, he was an adult, a business owner, a husband and partner that needed to play by society's rules if they were ever going to crawl out of the gutter completely.

The very idea made Mickey's teeth ache.

He bit his bottom lip while they sat side-by-side in their booth at the Alibi, waiting for some schmuck to meet them for an interview.

"We need to start interviewing the guys we hire, Mickey," Ian had said one night while cooking dinner. He chopped the carrots and celery on the wooden cutting board while Mickey sat slumped on the couch, nursing a beer and watching a TikTok Mandy had sent him earlier that day.

He looked up at his husband as he watched an orange and white cat chow down on kibble after his automatic feeder malfunctioned.

Mandy 🌻 (6:09pm): plz tell ian this is him in cat form

Mickey snorted at his phone, barely registering Ian's comment.

"Mick?" Ian tried again, and Mickey looked up from his phone.

"Hmm?" he replied through a mouthful of beer.

"I said we need to start interviewing the guys we hire," Ian said again, using the knife to scrape the carrots and celery off of the cutting board and into the giant pot he had boiling on the stove. Mickey wasn't sure what he was making, but it smelled amazing.

"What for? Those resumé things ain't good enough for you?" Mickey's mouth quirked up on the side as he tried to hide a smirk.

Ian rolled his eyes and used the comically oversized wooden spoon to stir his soup.

"No, Mick. So we don't have another Connor situation."

Mickey snorted. Connor was a dipshit they'd hired back in April to help with pickups, a dipshit that had cost the company almost $2,500 after he "forgot" to make the deposit with Ian and Mickey at the end of his scheduled route.

"I mean, his name's Connor. Kinda feel like you should've known what you were walkin' in to with that one."

"I'm serious," Ian said. "Interviews. We gotta do 'em." He stirred the soup vigorously, the spoon clanking against the side of the pot with every twist.

Mickey sighed deeply and rolled his eyes.

"Fine, we'll interview some new guys. But we're not doing it at a Starbucks or some shit. I'm not ready to go full West Side." He scrunched up his nose and made a face, to which Ian just chuckled.

"Glad you're on board," he teased, getting back to work on his soup, which had started to bubble.

--

Kev and Vee had moved to Louisville a month before, transferring ownership of the bar to Carl and Officer Tipping, who promised to keep everything just as it was. It gave Mickey a sense of calm knowing that even as the rest of his old neighborhood was slipping away, his adolescent stomping grounds now littered with coffee shops and yoga studios, some things remained the same.

He ran his fingers along the familiar crack in the table, a sharp sensation prodding the pads of his fingertips and helping him forget, even temporarily, what they were there to do.

Ian smacked the back of Mickey's hand gently.

"Stop it," he said, referring to the way Mickey was two seconds away from giving himself a splinter.

Mickey huffed and rolled his eyes.

"What's this guy's name again?"

Ian looked at his phone where he had an email pulled up. He glanced over the message then scrolled to the bottom.

"Derek," he said plainly.

"Derek," Mickey mocked, and Ian whacked him in the chest with the back of his hand.

"Knock it off," he said, and Mickey rolled his eyes again.

"Whatever. He's late anyway, let's just bail and go get some pizza."

"He's not late, Mickey. It's only..." he looked at his watch. "3:58. He's got three minutes until he's late."

Just then, as if summoned by Ian's voice, a tall, lanky, blond man walked through the front door of the bar and made his way towards the back corner booth where Ian and Mickey sat.

"You guys Ian and Mackie?"

Ian snorted as he tried to hide his laughter. Mickey rolled his eyes a third time, this time so hard that it was honestly impressive he didn't snap his optic nerves in the process.

"Mickey," Ian corrected politely. He nudged his husband with his elbow and the two of them climbed out of the booth to meet with their interviewee.

Ian shook his hand firmly.

"I'm Ian, and this is my husband Mickey." He smiled and turned to Mickey, who was standing with his hands in his pockets and giving Derek, all six feet two inches of him, an intense once-over. Elbowing his husband for a second time, Mickey relented, pulling his hands from his pockets and reaching out to shake Derek's hand. His giant palm was cold and clammy but also somehow uncomfortably hot. Mickey grimaced.

"Hey," he said gruffly. "Mickey."

"Derek," the other man said as they shook hands. "So you two are married?"

Ian nodded.

"Little over a year now, yeah."

Derek nodded.

"Cool, cool, cool," he said, nodding and looking around. "So this place is...interesting."

The judgmental and condescending way Derek said "interesting" wasn't new or unusual to either of them, but tall lanky blond bitches with North Side energy and a terrible fade saying "interesting" like they wanted to say "disgusting" made Mickey's blood boil.

He clenched his fist without even realizing what he was doing. Ian noticed immediately when Mickey's shoulders tensed up, stiffening in a way that reminded Ian of a startled cat, and he turned to climb back in the booth. He squeezed Mickey's arm once, twice, and dragged him down into the booth with him.

"It was a family friend's place," Ian said, nonchalant, eager to move the conversation away from the Alibi and towards their business. "So, Derek, on your resume, I see that you worked--"

Derek cut Ian off mid-sentence.

"Have they ever thought about turning this place into some sort of art installation or something? Just with the open floor plan and the exposed pipes, it's very pseudo-industrial-chic."

If they hadn't already assumed before by his distinct vocal fry and the smell of coconut hair gel, Derek's use of the term "pseudo-industrial-chic" solidified what the other two already knew: there were three gay motherfuckers in this booth.

Ian stuttered for a second, surprised by Derek's interjection and resistance to changing the subject.

"Don't think so, no." He grabbed his phone and opened up the Gmail app again. "So, anyway, your resume says you worked at--"

"You know what would be really cool in here? A movement class. I went to one in LA once that was hosted by Gwyneth Paltrow and it was liberating."

Mickey snorted and Ian elbowed him in the ribs.

"I bet it was," Ian said, unamused at Derek's refusal to talk about his work history. "So you worked at--"

"Have you guys ever been to LA? Oh my god, it's the best. So chic. I mean, I'm from Evanston originally, so basically anything is chic in comparison. I mean, not here, obviously, but you know. Other places."

Ian sighed.

"Totally," he said. "So, your work history, it says--"

"Hey, do you guys know what the best dispensary is around here? Preferably something upscale, with those iPads you can order on. I need a few new carts--"

"Dude," Mickey cut in. "Can you shut the fuck up for five seconds?"

Derek looked surprised, and Mickey could hear Ian's sharp, apprehensive inhale.

"Excuse me?" Derek said, holding his hand to his chest.

"He's been trying to ask you the same question since we sat down, and you won't shut the fuck up about chic cities and weed, so if you could just answer our questions, that would be great." He looked over at Ian, whose eyes were wide and hesitant, unsure about how things were about to unfold.

"You're very rude," Derek said to Mickey, giving him a scowl.

Mickey snorted.

"Yeah, tell me something I don't know."

Derek's eyes narrowed and his forehead wrinkled up, agitated.

"You should be nicer to the people you want to hire." He crossed his arms over his chest like a petulant child.

Mickey laughed out loud.

"Dude, who says we wanna hire you? I'm pretty sure if you worked for us, I'd blow my brains out in the first two minutes."

Ian tried and failed miserably to conceal his laughter, covering his mouth with his hand and looking down at the table. Mickey leaned over towards his husband.

"I kinda wanna punch this guy in the mouth," he mumbled, and Ian side-eyed him from where he sat beside him.

"Please don't," he replied in a whisper before composing himself and turning back to Derek.

"Look, Derek, you seem like a nice guy, but I don't think this is gonna work out." He held out his hand to signal that the interview was over, but Derek didn't return his handshake. Instead, he pouted like a toddler that had just been scolded for bad behavior.

"Your husband's a dick," Derek said to Ian, and Mickey could literally feel Ian's body stiffen next to him.

"Hey," Mickey said, putting his hand on Ian's knee. "Forget it. Let's go get pizza."

"No," Ian said sternly, turning back to Derek. "Listen, dude, you're also kind of a dick, so why don't we just call this a wash and you can go track down your carts or whatever."

Mickey bit his lip, fighting a smile. He secretly loved when Ian got defensive, as long as it wasn't directed towards him.

"You're both dicks!" Derek said, slamming his hands down on the table. He slid out of the booth and stood up, and Mickey and Ian did the same. The three men stood there, Derek facing the husbands with a pissed-off expression.

"You should go," Ian said, pointing at the door.

Derek snorted.

"I guess I shouldn't be surprised. When the ad said South Side, I knew there was a good chance the owners were a couple of trashy, ghetto assholes. But him?" He pointed at Mickey. "He's a world-class dick."

Before Derek could say anything else, he was cut off by a fist to the jaw and dropped to the floor, unconscious.

The ambient chatter and loud clacking of billiard balls came to a halt as the regulars that sat scattered around the Alibi turned in unison to see what had happened. Once they identified the source of the loud "thud" as one of the Gallagher-Milkovich boys knocking out some blond giant, they immediately turned back to their various activities.

Just another day on the South Side.

Ian cupped his right fist in his left hand and turned to Mickey, bewildered.

"I just punched that guy, Mick," he said, genuinely surprised. "I knocked him out. Shit."

Mickey shrugged.

"He kinda deserved it."

Ian looked at Mickey with a really? sort of expression and shook his head back and forth.

"Still," he said, turning to look at Derek, sprawled out unconscious on the floor like a rag doll.

"C'mon man, it's fine. He'll come to, and when he does, we'll be long gone." He grabbed Ian's upper arm and gave him a tug, but Ian just sat back down in the booth.

"Why did I do that?" he asked, but Mickey knew he was talking only to himself. He sat down beside his husband, stepping over Derek's long ass leg on his way back to the booth.

"I mean, you kinda had to."

Ian looked over at Mickey, eyebrows raised. He stared at his husband for a moment, puzzling, before breaking into a smile.

"What?" Mickey asked, confused as to how Ian could go from having some sort of moral crisis over knocking out a hipster to grinning gleefully at his husband in a half second. Ian reached over and put his hand on Mickey's thigh. Immediately, the mood shifted. Pool cues squeaked as they were chalked up and glasses clinked on the countertops. The distinct chhh-chhh sound of a spray bottle punctured Mickey's ear drums as he looked down at his husband's hand on his thigh.

"So," Ian said, voice quieter than before. "Why did I have to punch that guy?"

Mickey smirked. He could be honest, and say the obvious reason, which was that Derek was a total douche canoe and deserved to be socked in the mouth by someone his own size. He could lie, and say it was because Derek seemed dangerous and Ian was just following his instincts, but that would have been the lie of the fucking century.

Instead, he said neither, and opted for something he knew would make Ian smile.

"Because you love me."

Ian's face broke into a full grin and he giggled, leaning over to kiss his husband once, quickly, well-aware of Mickey's hesitancy towards PDA when they were out and about on the South Side.

When he pulled back, he was smirking, and Mickey knew his cheeks were flushed. He hadn't been expecting the kiss, however brief it was, and his stomach felt a little fluttery.

"I mean, I'm not the kind of guy that just stands by and lets people talk shit about the man he loves." He grinned and Mickey rolled his eyes, remembering Ian telling him about the last words he'd said to Glittery Twink Byron the night they'd gotten engaged.

"You're a fuckin' sap, man."

"True," Ian said, standing up from the booth and stepping over Derek's leg as Mickey had done minutes before. He reached out his hand and pulled his husband from the booth. The two of them stood there momentarily, staring at Derek's lump of a body on the sticky, peanut-shell covered floor.

"Should we like, do something?" Mickey asked, kicking Derek's foot with his own boot. The man didn't move a muscle. Mickey wondered for a second if he might be dead, but the shallow rise and fall of the douche canoe's chest let him know that unfortunately, for all of humankind, the asshole was still alive.

Ian shook his head.

"Nah, he can sleep it off."

He reached down and took Mickey's hand in his own.

"C'mon," he said as he dragged them both towards the door. "Let's go get pizza."

[theonewiththefanfics]

Heartbreak For A Gift (Part 1/?)

Synopsis: Sometimes relationships start off like love stories in books. And sometimes they fall apart in a minute.

(Kind of an AU! I guess??)

Pairing: Harry Styles x fem!Reader

Genre: angst bruh

Warnings: swearing, sadness, angst, but nothing else that I can remember. Minimal editing

Word count: 2547

A/N: Please note I don’t know what the situation is between Harry and Olivia, if it’s a stunt or they’re actually dating. Whatever the case do not harass them. This is fiction and only for the purposes of the story. If they’re actually together - GOOD FOR THEM!!! No one is entitled to other people’s private lives!

Can be read as a one-shot if ya want, but I might turn this into a very small series cause I already have ideas as to where to go further with this, so hit me up if that’s what you’d like :)

If you know you’re a part of my tag list and see you’ve been crossed out, it means I can’t tag you for whatever reason. If you still would like to be a part of my tags please message me with your previous username and updated so I can update my lists :)

When she’d first said yes to going out with Harry, she’d had zero ideas as to who he really was. Well, that was a lie, she obviously knew of him, it’s not like she completely lived under a rock, and she’d seen a couple of his interviews, but 'One Direction' or Harry Styles as a solo artist hadn’t been that big of parts of her life, so she didn’t really care much for it.        They’d met at a bookstore on a sunny day in London. That’d been a good day. Her boss had let her go home a bit earlier than usual, the weather was warm, but not it’s-so-warm-I’m-sweating-my-ass-off kind of warm, sunglasses covering her eyes and hair free as the warm summer winds blew through her locks she was walking beside the Thames on her way inside the heart of the city.        Because she had a little bit more free time, she decided to pop into Waterstones, which was generally not a good idea for Y/N to do if she had things in store for the day; this time she could spend the rest of the evening if she wanted to, browsing books and living her best life.        Surprisingly for London, that particular Waterstones, even though it was in a densely populated area, was pretty empty, so Y/N felt free to skim through the options without having to press through a crowd of people to find the next section.        As she scanned what the shelves of New-Adult fiction offered, a man also came to look at the books. He stayed a bit further away, but he was certainly someone who caught people’s attention with the bright green daisy-print covered T-shirt, chequered shorts and the three scrunchies on his wrist.        The thing was as much as he’d grabbed Y/N's attention, she was more interested in the Waterstones exclusive edition of a book she’d been dying to buy, so when she saw it just sitting on the shelf, a small gasp escaped her lips.        Two eyes were immediately on her, and Y/N could feel them slip back onto her form from time to time as she greedily paged through the book, but she couldn’t say her own Y/E/C eyes didn’t flit over to the man as well.        He had a small bun on the top of his head, curly hair pushed away from the face, cheekbones for days, which were shaved and smooth and perfectly groomed brows arching over what seemed to be green orbs which were looking at the spine of a crime book way too intensely for it to be genuine interest. All in all, his side profile would be that of one of the characters Y/N’d simp over in a book, let alone the nails painted all colours of the rainbow which made her happy because nothing was better to see someone sticking it to the patriarchy.        But their little meet-cute was interrupted as an employee apologised while he tried to squeeze past them with a giant cart filled with new release books, and almost like a lost puppy, she started to follow the stacks of books when a hand on her shoulder made her spin around only to be faced with the man. She instantly recognised his face, but, at the same time, couldn’t really pinpoint what it was about him that was so familiar.

       “Sorry,” he said in a rough voice. “But you left this behind.”        And in his hands was the Waterstones exclusive.        Y/N’s eyes widened as she gingerly took it from him. “Oh my god, thank you! I’ve got no idea how I let it out of my fingers.”        He chuckled, motioning with his chin to the employee disappearing by the corner. “I’d say you got distracted.”        “Yeah, a little.” She bit her lip and drummed her nails against the cover of the book. “Well, uh… thank you. For not grabbing it for yourself.”        But he just lifted his hand. “More of a Murakami kind of a man.”        “Yes, well, I,” she nodded towards the book in her own hand, “like to read about people living out my dreams.”        He raised his eyebrow. “It’s a murder mystery.”        “Your point?”        “Would you say I have issues then if I wanted to ask you out on a date?”        Y/N’s heart stuttered in her chest, but he looked so nervous, so genuinely open and almost scared, she couldn’t feel any ill intentions from him, so she tapped her chin a bit as if contemplating before saying, “No. I’d say you have good taste actually.’        The relieved laugh he let out made him seem even prettier than Y/N already thought he was.        He extended his palm towards her, swaying on the balls of his feet a bit. “ ‘M Harry. Would probably be proper to know my name before we go anywhere further.”        “Y/N.” She smiled and clasped his hand in hers. “And it would probably be proper to know I was kidding about the whole ‘watching others live out my dreams’. People living out my dreams are actually in the books having hot sex with Fae.”        His laughter was loud and sudden, making Y/N duck down like she was in her Uni library and the librarians would come and shush them. But now, almost two years later since they’d first met, there was no sign of those butterflies she’d felt in the middle of the thriller section of Waterstones. Now Y/N was sitting by a large table, body slowly numbing as was her mind to keep the pain from her heart spreading. Whatever Jeff was talking about now, she didn’t hear. There were eyes on her, had to be to gauge her reaction, but they wouldn’t get anything more than slightly parted lips and a blank stare turned towards the marbled top.        She knew Harry was nervous; from her peripheral vision, she saw his thumb scraping at the rest of his nail lacquer, chips of pastel yellow and green polish flaking off and floating to the carpeted floor.        Y/N didn’t like LA. She’d never wanted to go there. Maybe as a tourist for a couple of weeks sometime down the line, but because of Harry and his commitment to ‘Don’t Worry, Darling’ and because he’d basically pleaded with her for days on end, she’d agreed to move there with him for the time he was shooting the movie.        It’s not that the city wasn’t beautiful. The sun, the sea, the greenery surrounding her was absolutely breath-taking, but it was the people that she didn’t really mesh with. Sure, she knew dating Harry came with a lot of what LA’s society was like. The need to look absolutely physically perfect to match the unachievable barbie standard, the fake niceness people usually exhibited just to get something for themselves or possibly raise them higher on the popularity scale, but Harry had always wiped away those doubts. But now all of that seemed like one big lie. He’d told her he didn’t care for any of it, not when it concerned Y/N nor when it concerned himself. But the contract in front of them said something different.        A hand touched her back. “Y/N?” Harry’s voice was tentative, wavering at the end of her name.        For the first time since the proposal had been thrown out, she lifted her eyes to look around at the people in the room.        Harry, Jeff, both their attorneys and Olivia Wilde and her attorney. The other woman, once their gazes met, immediately looked away. Y/N wanted to scoff at that.        “What…” Harry gulped, brushing a hand across her back. She’d never flinched away from him, but this time she did. Harry visibly shrunk in his seat and pulled back. “What do you think?”        What did she think? Well, she was thinking a lot of things, and the urge to say all of them was immense, but instead Y/N bit down on her tongue, reaching for the legal papers in front of her and skimmed through them.        She’d read each and every word as they’d been read out loud by the attorney, and every letter had been burned into her brain now. There was no way to get them out from her mind, and they’d haunt her forever.        “The fact that you’re asking me what I think of it already means you’re considering this.” Surprisingly enough, her voice was steady even though she was on the verge of collapsing after everything. “So, I’ll make this really easy for you – do it. Because, from now on, you’re a single man and you can do whatever the fuck you want.”        Harry’s face paled immediately at her words, hand moving to grasp Y/N’s, but they were in a tight ball in her lap, not moving an inch at his touch.        “Y/N, please.” Olivia was the one reaching out now, a pained and terrified look on her face, but the girl just stood up from her chair and went to the coat rack taking her coat and the bag that was discarded by it.        “No, you asked what I thought.” Tears had started to form in her eyes while she shrugged on her jacket. “This is what I think. If you even for a second assumed I’d be alright with this shitty stunt, Harry, then through the last two years we've spent together, you’ve learned nothing about me, and to me, it means it’s not worth it.”        Harry was now standing, desperate to touch her face, but Y/N once again pulled away.         “You two,” Y/N said pointing between Olivia and Harry, their faces twins of fear and regret. “Have never needed publicity. Not like this, so don’t try and bullshit me that this will make great promo for the movie. There are so many other ways you could drum up interest, but this…” She let out an unamused chuckle. “How could you think I’d be okay with you pretending to be in a relationship with someone else?”        “No, please… just hear us out. You don’t know what it’s like.” Harry tried to plead, hands in his hair, but it was the wrong thing to say, as she took a step back, eyes wide in disbelief.          But Y/N was calm, and with how rigid Harry became he knew he’d fucked up more than before.        “I don’t understand?" she breathed. “The number of things and events I’ve said ‘no’ to… the…” Her voice was as still as the sea before a storm as she took in a deep breath and exhaled. “Harry wants Y/N there for the opening of his tour, so Y/N drops everything and flies out even though she misses a presentation that could have her up for a promotion. Harry doesn’t want to be seen walking inside a club with someone, so Y/N goes to the back entrance to save his face. Harry is tired and just wants to sleep, so Y/N passes on her friends’ birthdays because he wants cuddles. What Harry wants, Y/N does. And I did. I did all that happily while keeping our relationship private while snaking in and out through back doors like I was some dirty secret of yours just so you could keep the illusion you’re single…” Y/N shook her head. “I think I understand very well… But now… it’s my turn, my time to ask of you something.”        “Anything,” he pleaded, probably thinking that Y/N was going to ask him not to go with Jeff’s stunt, and he’d gladly tell them all to fuck off if it meant her staying. “I’ll do anything.”        “Let me go.”        If Harry’s heart hadn’t been in his chest you would’ve been able to hear it break as it smashed against the floor.        “Let me go,” she repeated. “And don’t come after me. Because I won’t take any part in this.”        “But –,” he was choking on his words. “But I don’t want to. I love you; I can’t just let you walk away like that. I won’t do it, none of this is worth it.”        “And I didn’t want to do a lot of things, especially sit in a meeting on Valentine’s day where my boyfriend was talking about faking a relationship to promote a fucking movie, but here we are.”        This time when he reached out to cup her cheek, Y/N let him. “Please. I swear I won’t do it, just please let’s talk about this. Don’t give up on me.”        But she was unwavering. “For the rest of our relationship, however long that might’ve been, I would’ve wondered if you hated me if you despised me for not agreeing to go with it if the movie didn’t do as well as your management predicts it will with this. And I won’t have that. I won’t be in a relationship where every second will be spent in doubt that I’m stifling your career and you could potentially resent me.”        “I could never hate you.”        “Yeah.” She let out a sob. “You actually claim to love me but would be willing to put me through that kind of fuckery, so something has to be a lie.”        Without looking at anyone else in the office, Y/N stepped away from the man who once made her feel like she could conquer the top of the world and opened the door, but didn’t even manage to take a step outside when the voice of the person she never wanted to hear from called after her, and although Y/N had been calm and collected, she snapped at him. “Oh, don’t worry, Jeff,” she snarled. “It’s not like I can talk about anything that happened here. You made sure of it. Smart move, by the way, I’d say you should continue it. NDAs right before any meeting… I guess that’s how you keep your clients' careers spotless, so your stunt won’t be exposed.”        The way she whipped around to move towards the door would’ve given her whiplash, if not for Harry standing in front of her, arms weaving around to keep her in place.        “I’m sorry." He was verging on hysterics. "Please just… please Y/N don’t…”        It seemed like he no longer even understood what he was pleading for. For Y/N to not break up? To not leave the room? LA? All he knew was that if he let her walk out of the door, he’d never see her again, and she’d make sure of it.        “No, Harry, I think I actually will, because the thought of being in the same city as you, is going to make me throw up right now,” Y/N said eyes not daring to meet his, because if she did, she'd break and her resolve would dissipate. “Besides, you have loads of things to talk about. By the time you get back, I’ll have my stuff out of the hotel. And Jeff?”        His manager looked sheepish as she glanced at Y/N.        “The least you owe me is a ticket back home. The first flight you can find.”        He didn’t answer, just nodded. She didn't deign to thank him.        “Happy fucking Valentines to you two.” She looked at Olivia and Harry, who was breaking apart at the seams, but no longer could she find it in herself to care. He didn’t care enough about her anyway. “Hope you have a very happy relationship.”

Tags (crossed out wouldn’t take):

Harry Styles tags: @sarcasticallywitty15​ @breezykpop​ @girlboss99​ @harrystylesdoesntknowiexist​ @alliyjane​ @sirtommyholland​ @raylovessarcasm

Everything tags: @lumelgy @palaiasaurus64 @supernaturalbaesduh @breezy1415 @crazy--me @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @sea040561 @staryeyedgirl @deathbyarabbit @s-c-a-r-e-d-po-t-t-e-r @reblogger-not-a-blogger @m-a-t-91 @dalilx @i-need-a-hero-i-need-a-loki @maladaptive-ninja-returns @averyrogers83 @in-the-end-im-still-trash @gallifreyansass @dewy-biitch @avxgers @unlikelygalaxygiver @magicwithaknife @ollyoxenfrees @bnhvrdy @tvwhoresblog @celebsimagines @thatkindofgurl​ @sj-thefan​ @teenwolflover28 @lestersglitterglue​ @im-squished​

A/N: I’m (kinda?) back? I guess. I dunno. I’m in this weird place where I’m writing my books and then I get inspo for fics and I start writing them, but can’t seem to finish them so I dunno :D

P.S. what did ya think?

P.S.S. please don’t repost my works on other platforms (Wattpad Ao3 etc without specific written permission)

P.S.S.S. my tags are always open :)

[oppslift]

This is my small back story and advice or tips I suppose? I love you all be safe xoxo ❤️‍🔥

Small back story:?

I’ve been lifting since I was 12 or 13, just whatever my parents couldn’t actually afford to get me which was a lot sadly. For the first couple of years it was ONLY things I needed, I couldn’t take the risk to take a body wash just Bc I liked how it smelled. When I started lifting it gave me some control over my life and also it was such a blessing? I didn’t have to tell my mom those w@łm@rt shoes already wore out after a month or two, didn’t have to ask for money period for anything. It really was a life saver, I was one of those kids the school would give food and clothes too.

Caught at 18:

I’ve actually been ‘caught’ only once which made me clean my act up and not be as sloppy. I only pants conceal now OR a self check out lick. My father and I actually lifted together for a good bit of my teenage years starting at 15 or 16? A couple weeks after I turned 18 my father, ex, and I were all stopped and arrested. After a year of going to court and pleading NOT GUILTY every time I went I got out of it. Remember, even if you’re arrested if they don’t have camera proof they don’t have shit ❤️‍🔥 if it didn’t identify my whole birthday, address, and all I would share the mugshot. Life lesson learned but not in the way they had hopped lol. W@lm@rt was mad salty they couldn’t get me or my ex on it. I never lifted from that location again, I only did my actual grocery shopping to be petty and prove a point 🤣 there’s a lot of details involved that would be a whole post in itself but don’t be like me. No need to poke the bear.

Self checkout (all the big buck items I get like laundry pods, multi drinks at a time, etc)

For laundry pods and such I also put them in the middle, making sure it’s hidden with a bunch of stuff always. I get greedy and always get more than planned and that isn’t smart. I make grocery list and on the back out what I plan on lifting or what I plan on scanning some of at self check out. Self check out is always a mess, if you come through with more than 10 items than you’ll know what I mean. Not enough room to completely bag everything THEN put them in the buggy so I use this to my advantage. I let 3/4 bags build up I’m actually paying for, make sure the employee isn’t around or watching and I stack them on top. Has worked for everything I wanted it too. As for the drinks, I either put them on the side of the cart of on the bottom as you would imagine. I honestly do it really recklessly but if you’re confident it makes the difference up more than you think.

Walking out after:

I always get ride of my receipt so if anyone was to ask while I was leaving I would just say I threw it away and walk out. I’ve actually only been asked once, said this and I mean what can they really say? They aren’t gonna make an effort to check unless you give them a reason too.

Bëšt büÿ:

I don’t visit here often but this will probably be my only post like this so figured I’d throw it in here, I’ve actually done this for a long time and not sure if it’s actually a good idea or I’ve just been doing it so long and it’s worked?? The reason I have so many 3DS, DS, Switch, XBOX, and PS4 games (yes I named them all to prove a pouint will provide a picture just to please your imagination) is really simple. Whenever we plan on buying a movie or whatever reason we’re there, I go where ever they dont have a camera and put a game or two in my pants (Even if it’s in one of those plastic cases that need a key to open it) and go to pay for whatever. Since you’re buying something, when you beep going out they’ll just assume it’s because of what you bought. Done this almost every time I go to out local bëśt büÿ.

[joonie-beanie]

The OM! Characters as Retail Workers/Positions from my old job

Full disclosure: I’ve only had 1 retail job, and it was at a Homegoods. I worked there for 3+ years during college. Because I’ve only had this one experience, my below hc’s for the boys may be a little...specific to my previous job, and not universal traits that come with all retail jobs. 

Also I’m not including Luke because thattttt is child labor.

This is probably a very self-indulgent headcannon. Oh well.

Lucifer: 

(One of) the store managers. Specifically the assistant manager.

Nice to customers to their face, but will fantasize about stabbing them once they leave. 

Asmo once walked past the manager’s office and witnessed Lucifer professionally apologizing to a bitching customer over the phone, only to slam the receiver down moments later, sighing and mumbling “what an idiot.”

Very watchful of his staff. Do not slack off while he’s working....unless he likes you. In which case, he will take a moment to chat with you and give himself a much needed break. 

If he doesn’t like you, well...make yourself busy, or else you’ll get a stern talking to, and likely written up. Lucifer already has too much work to get done--he doesn’t want to babysit his staff.

Quietly schedules the people he likes to work during his shifts whenever he can, since he knows he can trust them to do their work. Not to mention, he enjoys their company a lot.

His favorite crew to have is Beel, Asmo, and Satan (and MC). Their schedules, of course, don’t always line up, but when they do he seriously thinks that he has the dream team.

Mammon: 

Cannot be trusted to actually organize the store, so he gets stuck at the registers.

However, the managers quickly realize that he's shit at anything front-end related aside from counting money (the man likes his money), and that he's prone to pulling out his phone when no one is around, so Lucifer forces him to work the floor. 

They start trying to give him more backroom shifts (because if he's not doing his work, they'll be able to tell easier).

HOWEVER--because Mammon is such a money lover, he’s very aware of every piece of expensive merchandise in the store. So if a customer attempts to switch tags, or peels the price tag off hoping to pull a quick one on the cashier, his coworkers always call him up so he can take a look.

Seriously, the amount of people that try to buy the $100+ gem rocks for $9.99 is crazy.

He feels very proud of himself whenever he manages to stop a customer from getting away with it.

He’s not the best worker in general, but the mangers would be lying if the said they didn’t appreciate his knack for remembering the expensive items.

Levi: 

Cash office.

Prefers to sit in the locked office by himself, listening to music on his phone as he runs checks the register balances from the previous day.

If he's not doing cash office, he's probably out gathering carts, or compacting boxes in the back.

Whatever keeps him away from the bulk of customers.

Whenever the managers need him to go help out on the floor, he gets permission to not wear his apron.

He seriously does not want anyone to talk to him. He just wants to work in peace.

Of course, if he’s seen organizing, or stocking shelves, customers tend to assume he’s an employee anyway--even without the apron.

Levi legitimately jumps anytime someone calls out to him and asks if he works there, and if he can help them. 

Oh, and he always brings his Switch to work and plays games on his lunch break. Do not talk to him if he’s playing his game--he will get mad at you.

Satan: 

Flow & mark-downs.

He's basically an all-rounder, but is superior to the others in putting out new merchandise (flow). He knows where things go, and how they should be organized. 

Secretly gets annoyed when customers ask him for help when he's in the zone, but is very good at faking a smile.

Will do what’s asked of him without any lip in return.

However, rude customers should beware of him, because his anger tends to flip on like a switch. If a customer is badmouthing him, or one of his coworkers--he has no issue telling them they’re a fool, and that they should just leave instead of causing issues.

He gets in trouble with management for doing this, but honestly has no regrets.

Definitely has regular customers that he is enemies with.

Gets left in charge of the store if the managers ever need to step away for their lunch break, or otherwise.

Asmo: 

Lead cashier. 

Super charming, great customer service voice. 

Always gives a good impression on the phone, and manages to make peppy announcements. 

If there’s ever a fundraiser going on, and the cashiers are supposed to ask for donations, Asmo is guaranteed to rake in the most.

He is very good at calming a customer if they're upset--apologizing and and being so sweet and polite that it’s nearly impossible to stay mad.

However, if they're rude to him, or his apologies go on deaf ears, he has no problem politely telling them to fuck off.

If he’s not at the registers, he’s probably off in the bath section--smelling soap--or the candle section--sniffing literally every candle in existence.

He’ll also be sure to get a whiff of whatever candle/soap a customer has brought to the register to purchase.

Runs off to visit other stores in the mall/strip when he’s on his break. (Aka. he spends way too much of his paycheck shopping).

Beel: 

Back room - heavy lifter. 

Dude spends most of the day in the stock room emptying the truck and building furniture.

Seriously can move big things with very little effort. He once carried an entire couch out onto the sales floor buy himself. 

While other coworkers may need to use carts or flatbeds to move larger items, Beel can legit just throw them over his shoulder and continue on his way like he’s not carrying anything at all.

He looks intimidating but is actually super friendly.

Will always work extra hours if you ask him to. Will also come in for extra shifts if you ask him to.

He always feels so guilty if he can’t accept, or needs to call off.

The type of coworker that goes out to buy snacks on his break, and ends up buy snacks for the rest of the staff. He just leaves them on the break room table with a note that says “Eat up :)”

Belphie: 

Closer - Sales Floor. 

The managers tried to work him on morning or midday shifts, but he was continuously too groggy, and ended up knocking things over on accident.

Hes more energetic at night, so they put him on the sales floor (since he’s honestly...not the best at the register. Don’t get me wrong, he can work the register as well as anyone else, but...he just...doesn’t sound friendly. (Lucifer: “Belphie...at least try to sound like you’re not working here against your will when talking to the customers. You applied for this job.”))

He honestly doesn't mind organizing merchandise, but gets annoyed if he ends up doing the bulk of the work. (Whether it’s because they’re short staffed, or because his coworkers are slacking).

Has no problem telling customers to gtfo when it’s closing time.

If people are still in the store 5 minutes after closing, he’ll follow them around until they finally take the hint and leave.

Always stops for fast food on his way home after work because making himself a meal sounds like too much effort.

Diavolo:

Store Manager.

Is very kind to all of his employees, but will also have hard conversations with them if there’s an issue regarding their performance that needs to be addressed.

However, he always does his best to maintain good relationships with everyone he works with.

Will buy lunch for the staff on busy weekends, even if he has to pay for the food himself. He wants to let his employees know that they’re appreciated, and while he’s the type to give verbal affirmation of a job well done, a luncheon doesn’t hurt either.

Even if customers are bitchy, he never raises his voice, or yells. He handles complaints like a champ.

If the customer physically or verbally abuses one of his workers, however...he will threaten to call the police. Do not fuck with his work children.

If his employees ever find him sighing, or looking like he’s stressed, then they know he’s definitely having a rough day. Please work hard, and help him out, and he’ll very much appreciate it. 

Barbatos:

The 4th key. (Basically a manager)

Some workers are scared of him because he always seems to be in a good mood--even if the store is packed, and things get overwhelming.

A very by-the-book type. While Lucifer and Diavolo may allow for some things to get overlooked, or for there to be a lapse in proper procedure, Barbatos is not like that. Rules are rules, and they shall be followed.

Honestly is a very nice guy, but working a closing shift with him can be the worst. Especially if Diavolo is the opening manager the next day. 

He will keep his staff there after closing as long as he needs to for the store to be in an acceptable condition. (The worst part is that Diavolo honestly is so easy going that if Barbatos had just opted to say “we were very busy and didn’t have the time to get everything done”, Diavolo wouldn’t blame him. Shit gets crazy).

Alas, Barbatos wants to please Diavolo and takes his role very seriously.

At least he brings in homemade baked goods for the staff sometimes. (His good cooking usually makes up for all the times he has kept them late).

Solomon:

Another all rounder. Usually get scheduled on midday shifts to bridge the gap between the openers, and closers. 

Is very good at keeping up his “customer service” facade. 

However, once there are no customers around his smile will fall, and he’ll mumble complaints under his breath. 

“Why does one couple need 15 candles?” “Lady, I don’t care about your chihuahua’s sleeping habits--just buy the pet bed already.”

Will always tease his coworkers if he gets along with them. Bickering with Solomon can become a very entertaining past time if he likes you.

Whenever new crystals, or rocks come in, usually he’ll spend a while inspecting them. Apparently he can tell which ones are real, or fake. (And he always ends up buying the real ones).

He’s the type of coworker that will sneak up behind you and scare you when you’re not paying attention. Just because he can. (Fight him, he loves it).

Simeon: 

One of the sweetest staff members, but he’s prone to getting flustered and making mistakes.

If he’s on registers, he’s so busy trying to start a conversation with the customer that he’ll short them on their change. 

Luckily, the customer is either patient in waiting for the manager to come up and open the register, or doesn’t care about the 22 cents Simeon forgot to give them.

He loves reorganizing the towel section of the store the most. Getting to stand there and refold towels almost feels like meditation to him.

Always goes out of his way to ask the customer if he can help them with anything, or if they’re finding everything alright.

Is prone to accidentally cutting himself when something sharp breaks. (It has literally gotten to the point where if a ceramic plate or something glass breaks, the managers have instructed Simeon to call someone else to clean it up, rather than doing it himself.)

Honestly, in the end, he’s a fabulous worker tho.

[bungou-stray-dingus]

I’ve just read the head cannons of Chuuya and Dazai’s bebes and I love it 🥰 can you write how they’ll react when someone kidnapped their babies and how they would get them back? QwQ

A/N : I've been gone for so long and I'm so sorry. This request and many others have laid dormant in my ask box for many many months and I'm so sorry. I went through big depression kick, and I didn't write for a while. I ended up getting laid off from my job because of the rona, and everything just felt uncertain for a while and I honestly didn't really know what to do. I slowly got back into writing, starting off with my fanfiction just to get back into the swing of it, and now I'm ready to make y'all proud and finish all the requests! I'm sorry for making you all wait so long, and I want this request and all other requests that I answer to be amazing for all of you. So, here we go! -Hopefully (still) Your Favorite Dingus

T/W : angst; kidnapping; slight mention of blood;

Osamu Dazai

Kazue was the literal light of his life, aside from you... obviously. You and his son were the center of his entire universe, he would do anything for you and his son. He made that quite known, considering how spoiled your son was already. At three years old, Dazai had already managed to buy your son everything he did, and sometimes didn't need.

Your son was a lot like his dad in the way that he liked to run off often, having you worried sick in the middle of the grocery store of mall. Dazai would often find him at the gumball machines or the tiny change eating rides in the middle of the mall. Your son hated to be confined in his stroller, and Dazai agreed that strollers were awful contraptions and that your son should be allowed to walk around.

His views quickly changed when you were out shopping for groceries one afternoon. Dazai was at work, and trying to keep your son in the shopping cart proved to be impossible, so you had agreed to let him out of the cart as long as he stayed close to you and hold your hand. You promised to get him candy if he followed those two simple rules, but thanks to Dazais relaxed parenting, your son just assumed he'd get candy no matter what. (Thanks Dazai)

You had only let go of his hand for a second, kneeling down to grab something from the bottom shelf. The last thing you heard was the small cry of "Momma!" and when you shot up and turned around he was gone. Your heart sank as you dropped the item in your hand and ran to the front of the store, asking the employees if they had seen your son, showing them the pictures in your wallet, and all of them shook their head, only able to offer their sympathies to you.

Calling your husband was the hardest part, trying to keep your voice and your hands steady as you held your phone up to your ear. The employees had already called the police for you, and they were scouring the entire store trying to look for any clue as to where your son could be.

When you had managed to tell Dazai what happened, he was on his way to the store, he didn't waste any time at all. He was furious, and at first he took his anger out on you. "I thought you were watching him!" "How could you let this happen?!" "Why would you let him go!?" He was angry and he wasn't thinking straight, but as soon as he saw how his words affected you, he quickly pulled you into a hug, peppering the top of your head with kisses. "I'm sorry... I'm so sorry, darling. It's not your fault."

An officer brought over Kazue's stuffed kitty cat which was a gift from Fukuzawa. He had gotten it on his first birthday and refused to part with it, he brought it with him everywhere. The sight of the kitty cat not being held by Kazue made you throw up immediately, your mind jumping to the worst possible scenario. You heard Dazai grit his teeth, his arm was wrapped around you tightly, and his grip on your shirt tightened.

The two of you race to the Agency, every other case that they had been working on is dropped instantly. Desks are cleared and pushed together to draw out a map of the entirety of Yokohama. You're sitting on one of the couches in the office, Kazue's kitten clutched against your chest, your tears soaking the top of the plushy. The light in Dazais eyes has disappeared completely, he's stern, on edge. His voice is hard but you can hear it break occasionally at the end of his sentences, especially when he says his sons name.

Ranpo and Atsushi are the main people Dazai communicates with, his voice is mixed with the constant slamming of his fists on the desk when his emotions take over completely. "Where the hell is my son!?" He shouts as he drops his head into his hands. That's the only time he'll cry, his body shaking violently. You walk over and wrap your arms around him from behind, your chin resting on his shoulder as you both sob.

Everyone had been sitting around the office quietly watching you and Dazai have your moment. They all felt hopeless, especially when Dazai had initially went to Ranpo and he didn't seem to have a clue as to where Kazue was or who had taken him. "Why... Why would anyone take him? What's the reason? I want to know a reason!" Dazai shouted, his fists once again coming down on the desk. You pulled away quickly, giving him his space to lash out. He threw everything off the desk, his head dropping into his arms that were folded against the desk and letting out a scream.

His strength was being tested, he was breaking. It killed you to see him like this, you knew that there was nothing you could do to calm him. There was nothing worse that could ever happen to him, his son was everything to him. Kazue was the reason he had stopped attempting suicide, Kazue gave him a reason to stay alive, Kazue was his life line. Dazai loved his son with every fiber of his being, and right now he not only lost his son, he lost his reason for living. If anything were to happen to your son, if the worst case scenario was the actual case, you were sure that you would lose your husband as well.

All hope had seemed lost, the sun was quickly setting over the city. Everyone was emotionally exhausted. You were curled up on the couch, your head resting on Dazai's lap, his fingers massaging your scalp. "Please, get some rest darling. You need it." He whispered to you when he saw you slowly drift to sleep only to have your eyes open quickly. You felt bad for falling asleep, knowing that your son was out there somewhere without you or his father.

You handed Dazai the stuffed kitten before rolling over and trying to get comfortable. "Here, if anything comes up.. he's gonna need his Fuwa." You said sleepily, and you heard Dazai's chuckle, it sounded like he was being choked. He sniffled as he grabbed the kitten and brought it up to his face, silently crying into it.

Ranpo stood up from his chair and made his way over to the desk, pulling the map up off the floor and laying it flat on the desk. His eyes were wide open, the soft emerald green had long since turned as hard as the gem itself. Dazai shifted you off his lap and made his way over to Ranpo, stuffing Fuwa into his coat pocket. Atsushi followed him over and they both peered over Ranpo's shoulder, looking down at the map, following where Ranpo pointed with his fingers.

"The warehouse... next to the Port. Whoever it was quick enough to be gone before Y/N could notice, but he was still able to drop his cat. That means the person was on foot, so this person would have to be somewhere close to the store so a scene wouldn't be made, but somewhere they could hide him. They're most likely expecting us to show up, they want something in return, this is a ransom kidnapping." Ranpo said and Dazai nodded, trusting him with 100% of his being. He had to be right, but Dazai also knew how some ransom situations worked out. If it took too long...

"We have to go now." Dazai growled, and Ranpo nodded, Atsushi "hmph"ing in agreement. Kunikida stood up from his chair, joining the three of them by the door.

"None of you know how to drive. Let's go." Kunikida had a soft spot for Kazue, he wanted your son home safe as much as everyone else. (Even if he thought his father was a complete dunce.)

Everyone in the office agreed to stay with you just in case you woke up before the four of them got back, and with that they all ran out the door, hopping into Kunikida's car and speeding off towards the warehouse.

When they got there, they snuck up to the doors of the warehouse. Dazai leaned his head against the door, hoping to hear something, anything that would indicate that his son was in there. His heart was beating fast, and as much as he wanted to murder someone for stealing his son in the first place, he wanted to bring Kazue home with him, bring him back to you safe and sound more than anything else.

"Momma... Daddy..." He heard the soft whimpers of his son coming from the inside of the warehouse. It sounded like he was crying and Dazai to control his urge to kick down the door right then and there. He needed to be careful so that no harm would come to his son, but the sounds of his son softly crying had him seeing red. "Pwease..." He heard his son again and his heart shattered, the sound of his son pleading with his captor had him on the verge of an anger induced emotional breakdown.

Kunikida pulled the gun from the back of his pants and silently counted down from three before they pulled the door open. All four of them had guns, refusing to let Atsushi use his ability out of fear of hurting Kazue. There was one man in the corner of the room, a gun pointed at the head of your son as he smirked up at the four men. They all stopped dead in their tracks, dropping their guns to the ground and holding their hands up in the air. "Please, don't hurt him..." Dazai choked out, his eyes locking with his son in the corner.

"Took you all long enough to show up, thought you guys were detectives. He was becoming a pain in my ass, constantly crying, asking for his mommy and daddy and his Fuwa." The man chuckled as he cocked the gun back and pointed it back at your son. "Do you know why I'm doing this? Do you know?!" The guy shouted and Kazue cried out, his arms outstretched for Dazai.

He felt like he was going to collapse, the room was spinning, he had to compose himself though, he had to stay focused. He looked to Kunikida and Atsushi, hoping the plan would work out how they had said.

Kunikida quickly bent down and grabbed his gun off the floor, firing one shot at the arm of the man, making him drop the gun. Kazue let out a shrill scream and Dazai took this moment to run over and scoop him up off the floor, holding him close against his chest. The other three ran over to the man, Atsushi and Kunikida pinned him down on the ground as Ranpo cuffed his arms behind his back.

After the police took the man away they all made their way back to the Agency building, Dazai was in the back of the car holding Kazue on his lap, rocking him back and forth as his son fell asleep in his arms. The man had been one of the criminals they had captured before Kazue was even born. He had held an entire bank and its customers hostage, but had never actually killed someone, so he was let out on good behavior recently. He had been stalking Dazai, and he found out about you and Kazue and decided that he would have his revenge for the Agency ruining his life. None of them ever found out if the man would have actually hurt Kazue, and honestly, they didn't want to know, they were all just happy that he was unharmed.

When they walked through the door and you saw Kazue being cradled in Dazais arms you fell to your knees and cried. Tanizaki and Yosano had to help you stand up, and as soon as you found your footing you ran over to Dazai. "Hi Momma!"

Dazai now sternly enforced the stroller rule, he didn't want to go through anything like that ever again.

Chuuya Nakahara

Asa was his princess and you were his queen. But his daughter, oof, if anyone even looked at his daughter wrong for crying he would kill someone. Do not test Chuuya when it comes to his child. He would kiss the ground that she crawls on, he loves her so much.

If you didn't know any better, you'd think his office was a shrine dedicated to her and you. There were framed pictures of you and her, and sometimes the three of you hung on his wall, propped up on his desk and coffee table, pretty much any surface that could have pictures, they were covered.

She had just celebrated her first birthday, she was learning how to walk which Chuuya would not shut up about. If there was ever a moment to talk about his daughter he would. The Mafia members had all learned to just deal with it, knowing that if they looked agitated about the constant talk of his daughter they would either be demoted or have their asses kicked.

"Does she really have to start sleeping in her own room? She's got a crib in our room, I don't see the problem." Chuuya whispered to you from the couch as you made your way into the room opposite of yours and his. She had an entire nursery that was practically unused due to protective parenting. He really didn't see a reason in having her in a completely different room when it was so much easier to have her in yours and his room. If she woke up, he could get her immediately and get her back to sleep in the bed between the two of you.

When you came out of the bedroom you sat with him on the couch, his arm habitually wrapping around your shoulder and pulling you closer. He turned down the television so he could hear the monitor clearly. "If she gets too used to sleeping with us in our room, she'll never want to sleep in her own room. She's not that much further. You're spoiling her, honey." He groaned and you stifled your laughter, propping yourself up to press a quick peck to his cheek. "We should try to get some rest while she's sleeping. Come on."

The two of you laid in your bed, he held you close against his chest while you traced hearts against his bare chest with your finger. "I don't know why she has to sleep in her own room now though. She's only a year old. She's still my baby. I feel better having her close." He sighed, adjusting his free hand behind his head as he turned to look over at the video monitor, the corner of his lips twitching up slightly as he watched his daughter sleep peacefully in her crib.

"You're scared of her growing up. She's turned you into a big softy. You know, she's gonna keep growing."

"Don't say that. She's only one." He pulled his arm out from underneath you and ran his hands over his face. He hated thinking of her getting bigger, growing older. The thought of her not being the adorable, babbling baby that waddled over to the door whenever he walked in with open arms was enough to make him almost cry. ALMOST.

"You know... we can have more..." You said almost too seductively as you peppered kisses across his shoulders. It was supposed to be a joke, but he didn't take it as such. He wouldn't mind one or two more little princesses or princes teetering around the house.

The two of you thoroughly tired each other out, the night seemed to be going perfectly. Asa hadn't woken up yet, and this was the first time the two of you had been able to be intimate in that way since she had reached the eight month mark. You fully blamed Chuuya for that though, he had spoiled her so much, but he didn't seem to mind it at the time. Now he seemed to be convinced that having her in a separate room wasn't such a bad thing.

Everything was silent, the only sound was the crickets chirping outside and the occasional sound of a car passing by in the distance. That would shortly come to an end though, the sound of glass breaking and Asa's blood curdling scream coming from both the monitor and the room across the hall had jolted you and Chuuya from your peaceful slumber. You grabbed the monitor off the nightstand and Chuuya ordered you to stay in bed as he ran out of the room and into Asa's room. You knew though, it was too late as you saw the cloaked man who was holding your daughter jump out of the window just as the door flew open and Chuuya came into view on the screen.

"NO! Son of a BITCH!" His screeching voice was just as loud as your daughters cries had been and you dropped the monitor into your lap on the bed as the realization hit you. This wouldn't have happened if you had just listened to Chuuya, if you had let her sleep in your bedroom as she always had. He ran back into the room, flicking the lights on as he went over to the closet and quickly got dressed.

"This... this is my fault... if I would have listened..." You said, not able to face your him at all. He turned to face you, sighing as he tried to calm his nerves. He was already fully dressed, ready to hunt down and murder the asshole who had the nerve to take HIS daughter. He made his way around the bed to the side you were on, grabbing your face in his hands and kissing you softly.

"Don't you even dare blame yourself. I'm gonna get her back. I need you to stay here though, I can't have you getting hurt." You knew what he meant. The way that he felt right now, this would probably turn into an all out war, and if you were in the wrong place at the wrong time you could end up injured. You nodded slowly, kissing him one last time before he ran out of the room and out the front door.

He barely gave the car time to start up before slamming his foot down on the gas pedal, peeling out of the parking spot and speeding down the street. His vision was blurry as the tears started to stream out of his eyes, he was only able to keep his composure long enough to hopefully make you feel better. Now that he was alone he had hurdled the thin line between lashing out and having a complete mental and emotional breakdown.

The only thing keeping him from getting into a severe car accident was knowing that he had to stay alive to save Asa. Although he couldn't see where he was going through his clouded vision, he had dedicated the route to muscle memory, and he could luckily see faint streaks of red and green lights indicating braking cars and traffic lights.

When he got to the headquarters he got some questionable stares from the guards, it was three o'clock in the morning, considerably late, or maybe early, to be coming into work. When they attempted to speak to him he couldn't even mumble out a "fuck off" through his sobs. He raced up the stairs, not having the patience to deal with waiting for the elevator to get him up to the floor he needed to be on.

He stormed into Mori's office, and, not unlike his boss, he found him sitting at his desk, his hands folded under his chin as he stared down at the papers in front of him. "They said you'd be on your way up. What's wrong Chuuya?" Mori asked, motioning to the armchair in front of his desk. Chuuya didn't want to sit though, so he strode over to the desk, slamming the note that had been left in Asa's room down in front of Mori. "What is this?" Mori asked, grabbing the note between his gloved fingers and unfolding it.

"He got my Asa. I'm gonna fucking kill him!" Chuuya screamed, remembering the words that had been carefully scripted out on the thick note paper.

"For the beautiful woman who was murdered by one of your own. I shall avenge her. An eye for an eye. -H"

He knew exactly who "H" was, and he knew exactly who the beautiful woman was that he was speaking of. What he didn't understand was why he would target his family, his daughter to get back at the Mafia for what had happened. Chuuya hadn't even taken part in the situation that had sparked this outcome, so it made absolutely no sense to him.

"Chuuya, you need to stay calm. Asa is loved dearly by everyone here, I will get together everyone needed to find her." Chuuya found his bosses strange sense of composure to be infuriatingly irritating.

"How could I possibly stay calm!?" Chuuya shouted, he wanted to lash out, he wanted to go off on someone, anyone.

"I would feel the same way if it was my darling Elise who had been taken." Mori said, but that was a mistake. Chuuya sighed, exasperated. He was pacing the floor, but when Mori had the audacity to utter those words, he punched the wall that he was closest to, leaving a large hole.

"She's your god damn ability! You wouldn't understand half of what I was feeling because this is my actual fucking DAUGHTER! So don't tell me I need to stay calm!" Chuuya screamed, the tears seemed to flow endlessly, staining his cheeks as they ran down to his chin, hanging on for only a second before splashing down onto the hard wood floors. Mori didn't argue back, he knew that Chuuya was emotionally unstable right now, so he just nodded in agreement.

"So what is it that you need me to do?" He asked, the phone already in his hand as his fingers hovered over the dial.

"Get everyone here..." Chuuya muttered before finally crashing down in the armchair. His sobs had eventually become choked off, and he was left shaking in the chair, his arms wrapped tightly around his chest as he tried to hold himself together.

Everyone had filed into the office, some of them looked agitated, others looked tired and pissed off that they had been woken up, but when they saw Chuuya's current state they knew that something was wrong. His usual smug, cocky smirk seemed to have been erased, the only emotion that was left to be read on his face was pain.

Chuuya didn't need to say much, no one needed a thorough explanation to jump into action. Asa was the one beacon of light that graced the walls of the Mafia headquarters whenever Chuuya brought her in. She had even managed to make Akutagawa crack a small smile when she had burped in Chuuya's face and then spit up on his freshly laundered coat.

Around five o'clock in the morning he got a call from you. He answered it quickly, and it broke his heart to hear how distraught you were. "H-Hi honey... It's almost time for her bottle. She'll need to eat soon, and she'll need to be changed, and and and... god, please tell me you've found her..." You were a mess, and he could only imagine how much harder it was for you to be there in your home, surrounded by all of her things but not her.

"Not yet... but I swear, I'm gonna bring her home to you, okay? Trust me." He needed you to trust him, because right now all hope seemed lost. There was no possible leads as to where the jackass could be keeping her, nobody knew where to find the guy.

"It's... It's so quiet... please bring her home." You whispered out between broken sobs, he heard you try to swallow back the lump that had been building in your throat. He could only nod, giving you a small hum as an answer.

After you had hung up, whispering out a solemn "I love you." Before ending the call he was right back at it. He was dead set on catching this guy today. Not only had he stolen away his daughter, but he had destroyed his wife, his love... This man had crossed a line and he was going to pay for it.

"Oi, Chuuya. Look, at the bottom of the note." Tachihara said, he had the note close up to his face, his eyes squinting as he focused on the tiny scrawling at the bottom of the page. Chuuya ran over and snatched the paper out of his hands, walking over to the large window to try to shine some light onto the paper and see the writing clearer.

"For fucks sake, they're coordinates! They were here the entire time!" Chuuya was seething now, this must have been a sick game to that man. Chuuya grabbed his coat off the back of the chair and headed for the door, but he was stopped by Mori who placed a hand on his chest.

"This might be a trap, how do you know it's not?" Mori said and there was a soft murmur of agreement from the group of people that were standing around.

"Does it matter!? She could be there and that's all that matters!" Chuuya screamed, the tears that threatened to spill were stinging his eyes. The fact that they thought he cared about his own safety as this moment was almost laughable, he would have laughed if his throat didn't feel like it was closing in on itself. "If you're so fucking worried than I'll take Akutagawa..." This is all his fault anyway, isn't it? Akutagawa was the one who had murdered the woman who he was avenging, so he might as well come along.

Chuuya pulled the coordinates up on his phone and it pinpointed a building that seemed on the map to be rundown and abandoned. A princess like Asa didn't belong in a place like that, it made him sick to even imagine his beautiful, precious daughter in such a desolate area. He growled as the directions read that it would take an hour and a half, maybe two hours to get there.

He would make it in half the time though. He could give a shit less about traffic rules, and if the cops even dared to try to stop him on his mission, the wrath of Hell and Chuuya would be brought down upon them. He sped down the streets, winding through traffic like it was nothing. He didn't speak a word to Akutagawa, and Akutagawa knew not to talk to him right now either. Chuuyas mind was a frenzy, a whirlwind of emotions. A mixture of anger, depression, rage, and heartache, and all of those emotions were just simmering.

The devil himself wouldn't be able to stomach what Chuuya planned on doing to the man who took his daughter from him.

He made it there in record time, the drive only took fifty five minutes, an hour tops to get there. The entire drive, Chuuya's eyes would glance in the windshield mirror, looking back at the empty car seat, hoping that it would soon be filled with his perfect little bundle of joy to be brought home.

Chuuya kicked the door in and his eyes immediately zeroed in on the trail of blood droplets on the floor. His heart sank while his stomach rose, he tried to control his dry heaving as horrid images and scenes filled his mind. "Remember his ability, it uses blood." Akutagawa said sternly, trying to keep Chuuya from losing it completely already.

They followed the trail up a case of stairs that seemed like a safety hazard, and Chuuya hated to think that his daughter was in this place at all. It wasn't safe enough for her to be in, she could get hurt at any point. This place needed to be demolished as soon as he got her out of here. He would do it himself if the city didn't want to.

The blood stopped in front of a door, and as soon as Chuuya heard the soft whimpering of his daughter behind the door he kicked it in. She was sitting in a small dingy playpen in the corner of the room, and Akutagawa had to hold Chuuya back to keep him from running straight for her.

"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING!? SHE'S RIGHT THERE!" Chuuya shouted, alerting his daughter to his presence. She pulled herself up on the rails of the playpen, stomping her feet to show him that she was becoming impatient.

"This might be the trap. We need to be careful." Akutagawa hissed, and Chuuya knew he was right. He sighed and peaked into the room, scanning it entirely to make sure it was empty before stepping in. Akutagawa followed close behind, Rashomon creating a shield around himself and Chuuya as they made their way over to Asa.

As soon as Chuuya got close enough he pulled her out of the playpen, holding her tight against his chest. He breathed her in, finding instant comfort in the smell of the all too familiar baby lotion and lavender shampoo that you used for her nightly baths. "I'm so sorry to have kept you waiting, princess. My beautiful baby girl, daddy loves you so much." He cooed to her, but just as things seemed to be going flawlessly, a loud scream escaped her tiny rose petal lips.

A hail of what seemed like bullets were fired across the room, and one of them managed to hit her leg. Chuuya held onto his composure long enough to check her leg, it had just skimmed by, but it was enough to make her bleed and to make her cry. He was trembling, all of his emotions had formed into one cluster fuck of pure, unfiltered rage. He passed Asa over to Akutagawa and ordered him to leave the room through his teeth. Akutagawa didn't bother to argue, instead wrapping Rashomon around himself and Asa completely and running out of the room and down the stairs.

Chuuyas teeth were barred as the man stepped out from the darkest shadow of the room. He didn't have time to speak before Chuuya charged at him, tackling him to the ground and pummeling him with his bare hands, the force of his ability behind each and every punch would leave the man unrecognizable. He was going to kill him, he wanted to kill him, but the vibration of his phone in his pocket made him stop. He pulled his phone out and when he saw it was you it brought him back to reality, the reality that his daughter was waiting for him, and you were still at home waiting for him to bring her home.

He answered it, holding his phone between his ear and shoulder as he wiped the blood of the man off his hands. "Did you find her? Tell me you found her!" Your voice was hoarse, he knew that you hadn't stopped crying. He couldn't keep you waiting any longer, you deserved to hold Asa in your arms as well.

"We'll be home in an hour or two." He said, and it felt like the weight of the world had been lifted off his shoulders when he heard your sigh of relief at his words.

Two Months Later

Chuuya was propped up on the floor, his head resting in his open palm as he bounced Asa's plush horse across the floor, making the horse noises as he did so. The sound of Asa's laughter was music to his ears, and her wide smile was just as beautiful as she flaunted her newly sprouted bottom two teeth. She crawled across the floor towards Chuuya who quickly lifted her up in the air. "Airplane Asa coming in for the landing!" He said playfully as he lowered her down to her his face and pressed a quick kiss to her nose.

His head shot up as he heard the bedroom door open. You had your hands behind your back, and the wide smile that spread across your face when you saw him made his heart flutter. He sat up, his back against the couch now, Asa on his lap attempting to imitate her fathers horse sounds as she bounced the plush horse across her lap. "What's up, baby?" Chuuya asked, wondering what could possibly be behind your back.

You moved your hands to the front, holding the white stick between two fingers and smiling down at him. "Congratulations, daddy."

a/n : I hope you enjoyed my first request after my ridiculously long hiatus. Again, I apologize for being gone so long, but I can't wait to start working on all the requests that are in my inbox. I love you all!

[jungnoir]

destiny | 09;

⇢ summary: you’re just about ready to give up on life altogether; your love life is in ruins, you’ve lost your job, and your family couldn’t care less about you… and then you meet your blushing guardian angel, and maybe life isn’t so bad after all.

⇢ relationship: jeon jungkook/reader, min yoongi/reader.

⇢ genre: supernatural, angel!au, demon!au, romance, thriller.

⇢ words: 6.5k words.

⇢ warnings: mentions of depression, violence, vomiting. slightly nsfw toward the end.

previously |  next

a/n: happy new year! I know it’s been quite a while (literally an entire year since I’ve updated) but I’ve had this chapter pretty much ready in my drafts and just hadn’t gotten around to finishing because. everything. regardless, I hope this sort of makes up for it. love you all! hope you’re doing well. also WOW I swear a lot in this one.

His hand on your neck is meant to silence any screams that might slip out. He applies the perfect pressure to avoid crushing anything vital (and just by the feel alone, you know he’s got quite an amount of strength to pull that off) while simultaneously stealing all your air and forcing you to cower in fear. You don’t have to be a rocket scientist to know this guy isn’t someone to be fucked with, and all you can think about is the fact that Jungkook is right outside and has no fucking clue what’s going on. The very thought fills you with dread.

“Then again, you’ve got someone helping you.” What once was just a particular, calculated press against your skin becomes a deliberate act of violence as he begins to choke you harshly. You know the pain of his grip might last for weeks, and that’s only if you don’t die in the next minute. “Just makes me wonder what’s so special about you.”

“Nothing!” You rasp out, clawing at his hand now in some weak attempt at breaking away. If you could make enough noise, enough commotion, surely someone-

-but the stranger has already stopped you quick. You aim to throw the door open or something but his free hand quickly apprehends you until you’re just a squirming mess on the verge of passing out. Even your legs are pressed firmly to the wall by his own body, holding you fast so that you can’t help letting a few tears fall. There was no doubt in your panicked mind that this was Seokjin, the angel who’d been trailing you from the shadows for what felt like centuries. His grand act of approaching you, something you’d dreamed up to be a major climactic brawl in a battlefield made for a spectacle, turns out to be so simple. Perhaps that’s what you got for thinking biblically. Why go through all the trouble when he could just squash the problem the minute a chance presented itself?

Now, all you can think is “I can’t die like this”. A sobering thought of pure contempt. Drowning in the river was preferable to this.

You muster what breath you can, eyes blazing, “How does it feel… being God’s lap dog?”

Seokjin is, funnily enough, stunned for a moment. All bravado slips through a teeny crack in his demeanor when you say that, and even though it’s a low blow, it’s also enough for you to thrust a semi-powerful kick to the dressing room door to make the entire thing shudder like an earthquake. That sound, coupled with your comment, makes Seokjin release you in a panic. You hear some gasps from outside, a few people inquiring if you’re alright. An employee sounds most worried amongst the voices. You’re just shy of swinging the door open and forcing Seokjin to be revealed or to disappear all at once, but then he’s grabbed the back of your collar as you scream in frustrated fury. Seconds later, you’re no longer in the dressing room anymore.

Instead, you fall flat on a rough, sandy surface. You’re overwhelmed with nausea, pain, and fear, so your whole body is struggling to pick up on the most important things outside of that, but you do realize quite fleetingly that it’s sweltering. It takes you a few seconds as you curl up on the ground to peek behind your hands that shield your face and discover that it’s blindingly bright where you are, almost like a…

For fuck’s sake. “Of all the places…” You whine with a sore throat, coughing right after from the strain.

Seokjin stands above you and uses his foot to kick you onto your back so that you’re staring up at him and the baby blue sky. His hair color plays against it in an unfittingly gentle contrast, “I thought we might need somewhere safer to discuss things. Oh, and speaking of discussion,” he waves a hand near you and you instinctively flinch back before you feel the pain in your throat subside. You wait a few seconds, but it seems whatever he’d just done had no effect on the rising bile in your throat, so you assume that’s something you’ll have to deal with on your own. What an ass. “Feel better?”

“Fuck you! Maybe if you hadn’t choked me out in the first place-”

“You’d have listened?”

“Maybe if you hadn’t hunted us down to kill us, we would have!”

Seokjin frowns, “I didn’t bring you here to talk about you and that boy, I brought you here to talk about you. I am only concerned with you.”

Whatever that entailed did not sound good in the slightest.

You scramble to your feet and immediately regret the movement as it makes you sick again. The more than 100 degree weather does nothing to fix that either, the sun beating down on you and bouncing off the dusty white sands directly into your eyes. You’re feeling something nasty rising up from your stomach, ready to projectile…

Just as the scene changes, you paint a Victorian rug with streaks of your vomit.

Seokjin immediately groans out loud, placing a rough hand at the back of your neck like one would grab the scruff of a kitten. You’re far too weak to protest, rubbing at your mouth with the back of your hand, so you let him toss you into a chair. The jerkiness of the action should have sent another eruption out of you, but you recognize the relief that has overwhelmed you from the touch of his hand. Had he fixed that too?

“Never the matter,” the angel growls, waving his hand and making the mess evaporate from the very fibers of the rug, “you’re all very fragile. I should have prepared you first.”

“How can you do all that…?” You couldn’t recall Jungkook or Jimin showing off any power like that, and whether it was because of Seokjin’s status or their modesty (and adherence to rules), you were unsure. Most likely both.

Instead of answering right away, Seokjin reaches forward a moving cart and you finally notice there’s a glass pitcher of water (hopefully) next to an array of empty glasses. You take the time he spends pouring some water for you to examine your surroundings.

It looks like a secret room in an old English manor house. The walls are painted a deep charcoal and with the absence of natural light, you could mistake it for the void. The only light that does exist is a strangely dim white light coming from the ceiling. What looks like a rather ornate shell of a skylight (sans the window to actually reveal, well, a sky), seems to hide said white light somewhere in it. It’s such a vague glow that you can’t pinpoint if it’s coming from a lightbulb or magic.

The rest of the room is just as ornate as the “skylight”, filled with deep oak bookshelves, golden artifacts, and shining decorations that already look like they cost more than your house. It doesn’t really matter the longer you think about it. All of it has to be an illusion… right?

A glass is placed into your hand and you break out of your thoughts to make eye contact with Seokjin. He hovers over you with narrowed eyes and when you look back at your surroundings again, you notice all the little decorations have disappeared. Why had he- “We can negotiate those bits of the deal later if you so wish.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” You ask, hesitant to drink the water despite how much the heat of the desert had made you crave it.

“Like I said before, I brought you here to discuss you. I’ve been watching you and lover boy for a while and it has become clear to me that you’ve been pulled along for quite the ride. I’m sure it’s all very daunting.”

“It wouldn’t have been so bad if you hadn’t shown up.”

“How much do you know about our Lord and Savior?”

It was tricky to say the least. You’d grown up on tales of him, an over-powered being of immense stature. No one could come close to him, not even the devil. However, you’d learned bits and pieces from Jungkook, Yoongi, and the others to the point where your ideas of the figure had become skewed. There was no linear understanding of him. You honestly had no idea, “Probably not enough.”

Seokjin huffs, taking a seat from across from you in a chair similar to yours. Crossing a leg over the other, the angel stares you down, “Do you know why I’m after you both?”

“You want to kill Jungkook. Because he committed your sin.”

“Jungkook is my main target, yes, but it wasn’t my sin. My sin was sullying myself with a demon. Jungkook’s sin was sullying you.”

You frown, “He did no such thing! You had a fucking child! Jungkook saved my life!”

“You mean to say he ruined it. You were supposed to be dead a long time ago.”

You’d known that much, Jungkook had told you already. Even if he hadn’t, that had always been the plan. “It was… it was my choice and I wanted it then, I admit it. But I was hurt. I was overwhelmed. I wanted it because I was scared there would be no reason to keep going.”

The angel angles a brow upwards, “And the fallen was that for you? A reason to keep going?”

“It was- it was a lot of things. I was reminded that I existed, and that there are people who can love me the right way,” frustrated at the situation, you glare at him, “what the fuck? Is this some fucking therapy session?”

He has the gall to smile, “God knows you need one. I’d like to be the one to get inside that mind of yours.”

Shit. What if you’d given him just the right information to use against you?

You snap your lips shut and sink back into your chair, bubbling with more dread. He notices your sudden resolve and appears to want to ease your worries, “I’m not doing this to break you. Unlike God, I find you, as a person, quite redeemable. A gentle, pained soul who fell victim to the perversion of her guardian angel. It’s all very sad.”

So God did think you were a lost cause. Jimin had been right after all. However, you don’t want to keep talking when you’re so close to getting the information you’ve been waiting for. It seems even Seokjin isn’t fazed by your silence, continuing on without missing a beat. “You see, usually these angel and human matters can be chalked up to the angel getting too big for their britches. They think they can change things like fate: God’s very flawless plan from the beginning. They are simply… glitches in the matrix, you could say? That’s where I come in. I make sure these issues are handled and that everything goes back to normal. You see, God loves his humans. Truly. He has a bit of a temper, but it’s justified, you know? He loves you all so very much that seeing you stray from a holy and righteous path is heartbreaking for him. He can only excuse so much.

“So he doesn’t. But… sometimes I help him. I change his mind. Even Jesus had to convince God not to blame his executioners. The big guy gets real impassioned about those he loves. It’s all part of the territory of being in heaven’s sovereignty,” at this, Seokjin shrugs, “you were an unfortunate casualty of it. However, I brought you here because I think that you could be saved. You’re simply confused. I’m sure I could convince God to rethink... his punishment for you.”

Your eyes widen, nearly dropping your glass, “He’d do that?”

The angel nods, pleased, “Of course! After all, he just wants you to repent. If you show that you will, well, I could put in a good word for you. He and I are very close.”

“But only for me.”

Seokjin’s smile dims some. He was so sure he’d had you on the hook just then, “Well… yes. There isn't much I can say about angels. Humans are born sinful, but angels are born knowing better. If they succumb to sin, I cannot do anything about that. But… if you feel that you’d be leaving Jungkook behind, and if that would cause you to feel guilty, I can assure you that that would be taken care of. Your memory of him would be wiped clean and you’d receive another guardian angel in an instant. You’d be granted everything you ever wanted. You’d be able to live out a new path of life contrary to the one your fallen so selfishly carved out for you.”

At this, you begin to frown deeper than you ever have. It’s not out of confusion but deep, deep understanding. Seokjin’s deal was asking you to sell Jungkook out and in return… he’d make you happy. You’d forget all about what had happened and carry on a new person, virtually safe. You could only assume that meant forgetting Yoongi too. Everything you’d accomplished so far would be rearranged until the you that you’d become would be so unfathomable you wouldn’t ever consider it.

What scares you the most is that you actually consider it.

This all could end right now and you’d get out alive, maybe all the ordinary people you knew would get out alive too. You’d be completely removed from the situation. You’d just have to forget Jungkook.

“You asked me how much I know about God,” you start, thumbs twiddling, and Seokjin perks up, “the stories humans told of him always kind of scared me. He’s so powerful… he knew everything before it was even created. Nothing can get past him. And yet, he let humans have free will and the right to choose what their path in life would be. That part always boggled my mind. God’s supposed to love us unconditionally, but if we don’t return the favor, we suffer eternally. It seemed like a pretty big plothole in the otherwise ‘flawless plan’ you claim he made.”

“Yes, well, it’s not God’s fault that Lucifer’s so conniving.”

“But it is. Isn’t it? God created him. Lucifer is the one who brought sin upon the world but God is the one that created him. If he knows everything, why make him in the first place? It’s a fallacy,” Seokjin’s eye twitches just a bit as you lean forward, “that God knows everything. Isn’t it? He wouldn’t be so stupid. He had no fucking clue what he’d made when he made Lucifer.”

“I’d watch your tone. God hears all.” The angel’s ominous reply is all that you need to hear. He doesn’t tell you that anything else you’ve said is false or not. Of course not. You know as well as he does that you’re spot on.

You’re so stunted by the arrogance of it all that you have to laugh, “Allegedly.”

In that same moment, the white light above begins to flicker. A distant rumbling sounds from somewhere and that fear you’d felt earlier comes back with a vengeance. Seokjin looks annoyed, if anything, “I only have so much time to sit here with you to chat.” He stands up and walks over to you, seizing you by the arm, “So I’m telling you now that you still have a chance. No one else has to die. Do me a solid and make that a reality.”

Did he really not want to kill you? He’d had so many chances to. Even now, he could just… what did you have that made him hesitate? “You think I believe that?”

The ground rumbles underneath you and then you fall through, Seokjin’s grip slipping off your arm… or maybe being pried off.

Where you land next isn’t as disorienting as the last few times, but it doesn’t feel any better to be ripped away again without so much as a warning. For a moment before you land, you halt, almost floating. Then your feet make contact with stone and then your knees follow under the sudden press of gravity. A quick look around tells you that Seokjin is nowhere to be seen… and that where you are looks vaguely familiar.

The stone continues up the walls to the ceiling, creating a naturally cold room that expands no more than the size of a restroom (no toilets in sight, however). The furthest edge of the room from you is completely dark, while the other is helped by a fire stretching from one long, narrow wall to the other. There is no wood crackling beneath it though, nor is there an actual controlled area for it to burn. Flames simply lick up the bottom of the wall as if commanded by magic. While the rest of your body feels chilly, the warmth of the fire keeps your head warm like a fever.

You lay crumpled up on your knees and hands, staring into the flames with the most bemused expression, wondering what to do now. You’re definitely not intent on travelling to the other side of the room in fear of being met with something sinister you can’t see, but the fire only illuminates so much of the place and there doesn’t seem to be a door in sight. If Seokjin wasn’t here, you doubted this was a place he wanted to be.

Maybe he was torturing you? Intending to keep you in a dark, scary room in order to break your resolve? You didn’t know the extent of power he was allowed to wield but this whole transportation thing was starting to get really annoying. You chance a meek, “Hello?”

Your voice doesn’t echo like you expect it to. It sounds like it’s right up against your face, like you’d spoken into a pillow, the sound eaten as soon as it came from your mouth. Where the hell were you?

“...not exact, okay?!”

You pick up on a voice to your right and turn over with such speed that you land on your ass. Some stones move on the narrow wall, and then the room is illuminated from an entirely different source of light. It takes you a few moments to gather your bearings as your eyes attempt to adjust. Voices are frantic and coming closer, you can hear that much. You pick up on one instantly, “Jungkook.”

Your voice is weak with relief just as he comes into view. He looks an absolute mess as he throws himself at your feet and wraps you up into a bone-crushing hug. The strength of his hug doesn’t even bother you as you cling back with just as much force, grateful tears beginning to gush out of your eyes. You didn’t realize until then just how terrified you’d been, really. It was always there underneath the surface, but something about Jungkook’s sudden presence makes the reality of it all hit much harder. He smells like your shampoo still.

After a couple of minutes in his embrace, you pull away to examine his face, “Are you okay?”

He laughs and the way his tears have clogged up his throat make it sound more like he’s choking, “Who cares about me? Are you?”

You smile, tucking some of his hair behind his ear, “Better. With you here. Where are we?”

“Limbo, hell’s limbo.”

You’re not sure what to say in response to that. After what you’d been through in the last… however long it’d been, that seems the most plausible to you. “Is that like purgatory?”

“No,” another voice speaks from above you and only then do you realize that Yoongi is here too. He looms over the both of you but his gaze is fixed heavy on your face, “purgatory is where the dead go on their way to heaven. This is where the living come on their way to hell. Was a hell of a ride trying to get your ass down here.”

“Yoongi…” You peel back from Jungkook and stand up, a little wobbly as you lean against the wall, “...thank you. How did you do it? The places Seokjin took me… I felt like we were in a dream.”

His upper lip ticks up in a snarl, “It was. The place where you were is a void, heaven’s version of limbo. It’s where angels bargain with humans on the edge of death to repent. It’s an open playing field for angels to present themselves to their humans without them having to be dead or breaking a rule… not like the latter really applies to Seokjin, though. It’s only as strong as your will to be there,” with that, Yoongi reaches toward you and brushes what feels like sand off your cheek, or perhaps he just meant to touch you to make sure you were really here with the way it lingered, “and that’s the only reason I could pull you out.”

It was a lot to digest. You still couldn’t totally understand how he’d pulled you from heaven’s limbo if he was a demon, but that was beside the point. Right now, you just wanted to get out of this creepy box of a room for good. And it seemed you would be getting your wish.

Another figure became clear to you through the doorway, though this figure looked much more intimidating than the two by your side. Dressed immaculately with a sly smile that felt strikingly familiar, a man makes his way into the room, pressing a hand to his chest and bowing his head to you, “He had my help too, of course. A pleasure to meet you (Name), I’ve heard very little about you.” The man holds out a hand to you and you can feel both Jungkook and Yoongi stiffen on either side of you, but neither makes a move to stop him. This had to be another demon, no doubt.

You take his hand and shake it firmly despite your nerves, “T-Thank you for your help as well. May I ask who you are?”

The man grins wider, “You can call me Lucifer. Are you hungry?”

An entire array of human food is set out before you but you don’t have much of a stomach to touch any of it, though Jungkook seems right at home as he fills up his own plate. You can only guess he’s enjoying the hell out of having so much food at his fingertips without having to pay for it.

You can hear his delighted sound effects from the left of you as you both sit on one side of a long table. Lucifer sits at the head of the table to the right of you, also refraining from really eating anything. Yoongi sits right across from you on the other side with an annoyed expression on his face, fingers tapping the heavy oak table top in a rhythm you can’t decipher. It couldn’t be any more awkward.

“No appetite?” Lucifer asks, pointing to the food. There’s meat and vegetables and cheeses that you know and don’t know but none of it seems particularly appetizing to you at the moment.

You shake your head, “No. Actually, I have a few questions I’d like to ask you.”

“Ah, bet you’re bursting.” He chuckles and takes a swig of something you think might be wine. “Go ahead. I’ll try to recap the last couple of days as well as I can.”

“Days?!” You don’t mean to yell, you really don’t (especially not at the king of hell, but-), “It’s been days?”

Jungkook stops chewing to give you a concerned look, “Of course… how long was it for you?”

“Barely… half an hour, maybe more? But not days.”

“Yes, well,” Lucifer sighs, tucking his hands together in front of himself, “time works much differently in heaven and hell than it does here. Especially for those who end up in heavenly limbo. It’s essentially cut off from the rest of the universe which makes it that much harder to track those who end up there. Seokjin was smart in bringing you there than somewhere else on earth.”

Your head is throbbing at this point. If days had gone by, you could only imagine how much had changed since you’d been gone… “So… what has happened since then?”

“Apparently quite a bit, seeing as I was a last resort.” Lucifer’s tone almost sounds irritated. Like a petulant child, he glares over at his son with an unspoken tension that you would like to delve into much, much later when the important things have been moved out of the way. “These boys have been pretty busy trying to get you back. But we are all eager to know what happened while you were with Seokjin.”

Jungkook places a gentle hand on top of your knee under the table. For whatever reason, you note that his grip feels stronger than you’d grown used to. You’d thought the hug was just because he missed you so much, but even this simple touch was- “He… he found me in the dressing room, cornered me there and told me he’d been trying to get me and Jungkook alone. Somewhere he could really do some damage.” You recite all that you readily remembered, some details slipping as you focus on Jungkook’s touch. Yoongi’s eyes never stop boring into you. “He said a lot. He… he said he wanted to give me a second chance.”

Lucifer raises a brow at you, “At…?”

“Life. He said that if I… if I ratted out Jungkook, he’d work things out with God to set my life back on track. Memories wiped, a new guardian angel, the works.” You can feel Jungkook stiffen next to you.

“And did you take him up on it?” Lucifer inquires.

“No! No, I would… I would never. But he was so insistent… It sounded like he really wanted me to say yes. I don’t think he was planning to betray me if I took him up on it either.”

Lucifer heaves a heavy sigh. Folding his hands underneath his chin, the king of hell spares a glance at Jungkook, “He’s got a thing for innocents: those he believes did no actual harm in a situation. He’s always been soft that way. He has more of an affinity for humans than I ever did, but I have more reason to loathe humans than he does, so I guess it’s understandable.”

“He did… mention that none of this was my fault.”

“Of course! You were only following the path life laid out for you. It was the fallen angel you have beside you that decided to shake things up, and aren’t you lucky he did? It doesn’t surprise me one bit that you’re still alive. You’ve done nothing but suffer the consequences, it seems, against your own will.”

“But what about the demon he fell for? Or his child? Weren’t they killed so he could keep his spot in heaven?”

Lucifer leans forward, “I’m assuming your friends haven’t made it known to you yet, but they aren’t dead. They are both very much alive. In fact, the child in question was one of the people that helped in tracking you down. The mother… she is here, in hell, meant to stay imprisoned for all eternity. Or at least until the rapture,” with that, Lucifer drinks again, maintaining eye contact with your shocked stare, “but it was best that no one knew of their whereabouts. Only a handful of people even know that Inhui still exists. It’s become something of a legend amongst the demons and angels, shrouded in confusion. None of the angels would care for the mother, but the child would start an earthly war if they knew one still walked the earth. As far as they’re concerned, the child probably died from the natural complications of being an abomination.”

You frown, “How is that possible? An angel for every human on earth… that’s billions of angels and no one has even noticed the guy?”

“I was wondering about that, actually. He told us that he’d been walking the earth for a while now. Surely someone would have taken notice, right?” Jungkook speaks next, having abandoned his food entirely.

Yoongi snaps out of his bored stance, “Tae’s an anomaly. He’s forgotten everywhere he goes. His impression barely lasts long. Those people he encountered early on considered him a dream, or a hallucination, or a possession of the mind. His actual presence is… hazy. It’s easier to remember him by his name or his number, but everything else is-”

“Intangible.” His father finishes with a flourish. “No ordinary angel or demon could ever put a face to the name, only a feeling. Along with the rather excessive amount of glamours he employs when amongst the public, it is no wonder no one has sounded the alarm. Go ahead and recall his face in your mind, fallen. I’m sure you couldn’t piece it together even if you wanted to.”

Jungkook’s face screws up a little as an attempt, stricken dumb moments later when he can’t utter a thing. Your stomach churns at the thought, soiling your appetite even more.

It seemed like there was more to that story than you were being told, but you imagined that it would be quite a lot to relay to you in more than one sitting. After all, you still had no clue what you’d missed since you’d been gone, and it only hadn’t terrified you senseless because you were at least certain that the biggest threat to everyone’s lives had been right there with you the whole time.

“If you’re not planning to eat anytime soon, is there anything else you’d like to know? It’s not every day a mortal like you gets to talk to Lucifer.” With a small flourishing wave of his hand, Lucifer smiles at you, charming as ever. It was so strange. Yoongi acted nothing like his father, and yet you saw every bit of him in his expression.

You imagined Yoongi felt the need to distance himself as much as he could from his father’s intimidating image and had ended up creating his own in the process. Where Lucifer was inviting, however, Yoongi was… not for everyone. Even as he stares over the table at you, eyes hooded with what appears to be indifference rather than lasciviousness, you can’t help but see the other in him.

“I suppose not,” you murmur, “but now that I have the chance, I don’t really know what to say.”

Lucifer continues to smile, “Don’t fret! I’m sure after the doozy you’ve been in, you’ll need to rest up. You’re more than welcome to stay here until you feel it’s safe to go back topside.”

The thought of treating hell like a hotel to stay in was tickling to say the least. The minute you rise, Jungkook follows suit, nearly knocking his chair over in the process to follow you. “I’d appreciate that. Is there… perhaps a room I could cool down in? Maybe a bathroom?”

Lucifer had deposited both you and Jungkook in a rather nice room, fitted with all the things you’d find in a nice resort room overlooking somewhere like the Bahamas. The dark, brooding colors of Hell follow you even here, and what little light you are allowed in the room comes from fire or mysterious ambience. Still, it’s enough to splash your face with (what you’re definitely sure is) water in the ensuite bathroom.

Jungkook sits at the foot of the bed, watching you, “I missed you.”

Since the moment that the Lord of Hell and his son had left you to your devices, you’d become increasingly aware that something was off about your angel. You had imagined that it had been from the sheer worry he felt over you, but it was starting to feel different from that. Something not so easily explained. If only… if only you could figure it out.

You pat your skin dry and look over at him, measuring him up and down. Appearance wise, he still had the same haircut, same clothes, same shoes. It was the aura that felt different.

Slowly, you approach him from the bathroom and wish that there would be more light in the room to examine him with. In that same moment, what appeared to be a ray of warm light halos above you both, giving you exactly what you had wished for. When Jungkook looks up, he looks… radiant. “I missed you too…” You whisper, reaching out a hand to cup his jaw. At your touch, he shudders, melting into you, and those eyes then laser focus on your own. “Are you okay?”

“I am now.” He answers without hesitation, then turns to kiss your inner palm with such a sensual drag of his lips that you grow hot instantly. The surprise makes you yank your hand away and you swear you hear him whine at the missing contact.

“Y-You just look different.” You squeak, holding the aforementioned hand to your chest as if he’d burned you.

Jungkook’s bushy brows furrow. “Do I?”

When Jungkook had been an angel, he’d had a distinct glow about him that set him apart from others. It was cliche, but it made sense then. You knew that you were dealing with someone from another world. When he’d turned human, he’d felt softer, normal. He didn’t glow in any particular way lest the light hit him through the window just right. But now… that glow was back. In a way that didn’t feel familiar.

You reach your hand out again, but this time you let it wander. You push his fringe back from his forehead, then behind his ear, then down his neck to where a sweatshirt hides his collarbones. In a daze, you fall to your knees before his seated frame and push the fabric back some. You find… nothing. You don’t even know what you’re looking for. A vampire bite? What is so different?

Your hand starts to fall mindlessly as you wrack your brain, but it’s all for naught when Jungkook catches hold of it and intertwines his fingers with yours. His grip is warm and solid. But it’s still- “I thought he’d hurt you.”

You look back up into Jungkook’s eyes as he now leans over you with an intense stare. His hair curls around his cheekbones and twists away from his face at the nape, each strand fluttering as he inches closer until the longest ones are touching your face. “Not much. He healed what he did anyway.”

At that, your angel’s eyes narrow in their scan over you, “What did he do?”

You instinctively swallow. Perhaps because you remember the feeling. Perhaps because Jungkook looks like he could kill. “He… he had to get me to limbo. He had to…” You touch the skin of your throat the same moment you break eye contact, feeling the ghost of Seokjin’s fingers there. It wasn’t so long ago that it had happened after all. You could honestly still feel it.

The silence grows until it’s nearly unbearable, you eventually finding that Jungkook will say nothing while you continue to avoid his gaze. Against your better judgement, you chance a look up at him.

You don’t get very long to look. Jungkook takes both sides of your face and lunges forward like a man possessed and you are forced to follow. In your surprise, you stumble back onto your elbows and Jungkook slots himself between your legs, latching onto your lips in a searing kiss. It’s hot and fast and immature, the kiss of a person who has never kissed before and may never get the chance to kiss again. Youngho had never kissed you like this.

A gentle whimper escapes your mouth but Jungkook inhales it into his own. You feel something primal burn inside you when Jungkook growls out, crouching over you now like a predator cornering his prey, and he’s practically consuming you when you start to kiss back. Can you blame yourself? You easily fold into the feeling because it’s Jungkook and goddamn if you hadn’t wanted to kiss him badly before.

His inexperience does very little to dissuade from how good it feels too, and as you start to take over to guide him, he is all too eager to feel your reciprocated passion. The heady feeling he gives you in his sudden attack pushes all thoughts of Seokjin or the last few days out of your mind like a fast-acting asprin. All you can think of now is how tightly coiled you’d been and how Jungkook is loosening you up one press of his lips at a time.

He lays you on your back and you happily oblige, no cushioning found on the hard floor but you couldn’t care less. Jungkook is careful not to be too rough, aware of your needs as much as his own, and it’s jarringly sweet the way he cradles the back of your head to keep you from hitting it on your descent.

When he’s had enough of your lips (as if he could ever), he starts attacking your neck. He’s lapping at your skin and biting away as if he’s trying to remove all traces of Seokjin’s hands… as if he’s replacing the feeling with him and him only. “I’ll kill him,” Jungkook whispers, a foreign fury in his voice that makes your haze disappear in an instant while he continues to work at your neck, “I’ll kill him for ever touching you.”

Your hand shoots to his hair, feeling your heart beat faster from more than just the kisses, “Kook-” But any attempt at sobering up washes away when, to your surprise, he ruts against you. Youngho had never been that good at using his hips like that either. There was something definitely off with Jungkook.

As much as it pains you, you grab at his hair and yank back, ignoring (or trying to) the filthy groan that he gives in response before peeling away from your skin. You gasp for breath, absolutely winded, “What is going on?”

Jungkook pants past wet lips, “What do you mean-”

“Did Yoongi do this to you?” The sudden heated moment is over when you say that.

Jungkook’s blood has run cold. You have a very strong, haunting feeling that your mounting suspicions have proven correct. His eyes… as gentle as they always were when they looked at you, told you everything. He was not the same Jungkook you’d come to know. Something had happened to him. Something irreversible. You touch his face again and this time Jungkook does not move to embrace it. He looks like he’d rather be anywhere else in the world. “Why?”

In an attempt to escape your pitiful gaze, Jungkook’s eyes flutter shut, cutting you off from seeing him vulnerable any longer. It breaks your heart the longer he stays silent. There’s no denying it now.

A tear of his touches the palm of your hand instead of his lips this time, “How else could I protect you?” He chokes, weak, “I’m not your angel anymore. I can’t be like you. This is the only way... the only way I could stand to look you in the eyes again.”

[blissfulparker]

Moral of the story→Ceo!tom

Parings: ceo!tom x reader (flowershop!Au)

Summary: tom thinks love is a waste of time, overrated, but doesn't realize how real and how much it effects him until he meets the pretty girl who owns the flower shop.

Warnings: fluff!! Loads of fluff!

A/n: this is for @quackeroos writing challenge! It’s with the prompt, “love is overrated” I hope you enjoy it! 💗(also, I apologize for no ‘read more’ sign.🥺

Business. That’s almost everything tom knew. Tom knew a lot about his business, how to manage people, how to impress people, all of it to keep himself on top.

flowers always pleased people. Roses for when meeting with younger woman, sunflowers when meeting with older, a casual spring mix when meeting with a group of people and white roses when meeting with men. White roses seemed to intimidate people. And when there were kids involved with the business he made sure to always do something colorful.

Sending flowers was very important too. When hiring a new person he would send flowers as a compliment and almost peace offering. Sending flowers as a thank you, an invitation, and even as a sorry were all used and so tom spent a lot of money on flowers and a lot time in your shop.

Today was like any other, it was a Friday so you spend the time preparing for Saturday in the garden, expecting your highest sales day to hit.

Flowers hung from the ceiling and filled every inch of the place, always making people smile when they walk in and see their options.

But for Tom, it was just another week at your flowershop. he preferred to come in instead of call because he likes the feeling of being inside and seeing all his options but more importantly he likes you.

The bells rings which makes you perk up from the back and come down to the front. Tom moves some flowers that have already hit his face and makes his way to your front desk.

“Good morning tom!” You smile at him before moving a bouquet that’s getting ready for shipment off the desk.

“Good morning.” He shoves his hands into his pocket and takes a deep breath. “I just need an order of 24 roses and baby breathes sent out by Friday.” He tells you and you write it down. Noticing his orders in roses you only assume he had a girlfriend, he seemed to order roses a lot.

“She must be lucky. And very very pretty.” You tell him and he gives you a shocked look. You catch his eyes of confusion and give him a small laugh.

“Red roses mean you love someone? Baby’s breath shows love for eternity?” You type in his order and add everything up for him.

“Well, she just got married to my brother and so I’m sending them as a gift for the two of them.” He tells you and you heat up feeling slightly embarrassed for assuming he had someone. But it was also resssuring knowing he didn’t have someone.

“Oh,” you clear your throat. “Sorry. I just thought.” You apologized and he shook his head. He reaches over to touch the small daisies that sat on your desk. His fingers fiddle with them gently making sure they don’t crumble in his hands.

“Your boyfriend must love you working here, brining home flowers all the time must be beautiful.” He comments trying now to figure out you. You let out a soft laugh and he looks at you look up from the register.

“No boyfriend. Just me.” You tell him trying to bite back your own disappointment. He keeps that in mind, keeps that in mind that you’re single.

“But that girlfriend of yours must love how much you order flowers.” You tell him since he never admitted to having one, just sending flowers to his brother. he shows a small grin knowing the game you’re playing.

“N-No girlfriend. Love is overrated.” He shoves his hands in his pocket and you look up with a cocked eyebrow.

“You think love is overrated?” You ask him almost with a scoff in your voice and he nods.

“I mean yeah, with work, life, little time I have, I just can’t have it right now. and I mean if you think about it, it’s so much work and effort.” What he really wanted to say was I wouldn’t be good enough. But that was personal and he doesn’t get personal with people he doesn’t know well.

“Love is a beautiful thing. and if you’re really in love you can find time and life around it.” You tell him leaning your hands on the counter and he rolls his eyes.

“It’s just stupid, a waste of time.” He told you and you felt your heart sting but shook off the feeling as he was just a regular customer.

“You order a lot of flowers.” You change the subject completely and he almost feels bad because he thought he hurt your feelings.

“I know.” He checks his phone quickly to distract himself. you come around to the front of the desk to move the other order of flowers to a cart for your worker.

“How come? I mean if you don’t believe in love then why do you order so many flowers?” You ask him. he helps you move the flowers seeing you struggle.

“I never said I don’t believe in love I just think it’s overrated.” He dusts off his hands and you flick off a piece of dirt from his shoulder.

“It’s basically the same thing.” You huff and he moves a strand of fallen hair for you.

“I order flowers for my work. It helps lighten meetings and let’s employees and clients know I care.” He tells you and you knew somewhere he had a super soft spot and wanted just as much love as he’s given.

“Smart man.” You tell him before going back to the counter. “Just write the address and if you want a note.” You tell him and he fills out his information.

You reach over and touch the daisies and then look back at tom. His handwriting sloppy on the paper as he writes down his love for his brother and new wife, his brown curls fall into his face and tickle his forehead.

“What’s your favorite flower?” You ask him and he hums softly.

“Not sure. Would I be basic if I said roses?” He looks up and you shake your head.

“No, not at all.” You tell him and he bites down on his lips and looks around.

“Then roses. Where’s that list of yours? The one with all the meanings?” He asks and you give him a smirk.

“Oh you mean my favorite book?” You ask playfully and he laughs a little as you drop down to pick up the book filled with flower meanings.

He looks at it and flips to the roses. Seeing all the different colors and meanings. Most he’s already known. Yellow means friendship, White means purity, orange means happiness, but one catches his eyes the most. One he’s never ordered and one that you never even brought up.

“Lavender roses means love at first sight?” He asks pointing to the scratched up picture of the faint lavender painted rose.

“Yeah, not a lot of people know that. but that’s what it means when they order it though. Most people order them for the color. You know, ‘my mom’s favorite color is pink so I need pink roses!’ Or the ‘my son just had a baby boy can you do blue roses?’. Black is pretty popular on halloween but of course black means morning and death.” You keep eye contact as you tell him. His eyes go soft and for a moment you see every detail of his face, you see how badly he needs love. You see how hurt he is. You can see everything.

“They’re pretty.” He tells you before clearing his throat and moving back to the book.

“Yeah.” Your shoulders almost touch his and you feel too close, you feel too close to him and get scared you’re getting too close to him emotionally.

“It’s gonna be $78.09.” You clear your throat and he nods pulling out his card ready to pay. He swipes his card and the transaction is done, he’s done with being here but he wished he could stay a little longer.

“They’ll be delivered by wednesday, I’ll see you soon I guess?” You ask hope laced in your voice.

“Yeah soon!” He smiles softly before leaving making the bell ring again. You don’t mean to watch him but you do, you watch him get into his car and drive off.

“You know, you can always send flowers to him.” Your worker, Lily, speaks up snapping your daze.

“Yeah, no, he doesn’t even believe in love.” You tell him and she smiles big.

“I never said anything about it being love…” she teases and you grow red. You clear your throat knowing her little game she was playing. She was young, always trying to play matchmaker with you.

“Go water the marigolds.” You shoe her off and she giggles a little as she walks away. You rest your head in your hands before going back to work. Thinking maybe her idea wasn’t so bad.

-

Tuesday morning

It’s 5:30 in the morning and something about feeling the first day of sunshine come though the shop was magical.

You make sure everything is perfect for when people come in. You start preparing orders to be shipped off for the day and write down future orders that need to be done.

Tom was on a different schedule as you. He got the luxury of waking up at 8:30am and getting to his office by 9:30. Either way you two both did a lot of work. So while you were already half way done with the important parts of your day, Tom hasn’t even started his.

When he did start his though it was always rushed. He always got ready quick, walking his dog fast and then getting in his car and going. Adding early mornings to a reason why he can’t have love, he wouldn’t have time to even say goodbye.

His office was always far more awake than him. Getting up the the 15th floor of his building and working as the CEO until around 7:30 at night. Another reason why he can’t have love.

They were a lot of reason why he couldn’t have love and a lot of times he thought about you, he can’t have you. You make everything seem perfect while he’s 23 trying to be the top CEO in London.

“Mr. Holland!” His front desk attendant stops him before he can get to his office.

“These were dropped off for you.” She pushed him the bouquet of lavender roses and baby breath. The looks at her and then the flowers.

“I didn’t order any.” He pushes the flowers away knowing they were from you. He remembers the conversation about the roses, he remembers the conversation about the lavender color. scared of attaching himself more to you, he pushes them away.

“They have your name on them.” She tells him again and he nods knowing he has to take the flowers. She goes back to her own work not caring about her bosses love life anymore.

Love can’t be that overrated If you don’t give it a chance

He smiles down at the note before looking at his secretary again.

“Nancy?” He asked saying her name softly and she looks up at him. “Move my 12:30 meeting to tomorrow and move my lunch to 1:00?” He asks her and she doesn’t even question before she starts to type away. He picks up the large bouquet and brings it to his office. Smelling the roses as he walks in and thinks this is the first time he’s gotten the flowers.

Maybe love was not that overrated after all. 

☆some tags!(so sorry if you didn’t wanna be tagged!) @thollandss @joshuaparkers @tomsrebeleyebrow @selfcarecap @hollandstea @tomhollandd

[beatlesdumpsterfire]

For @pushmipulluridesagain's prompt:

The Beatles go to Target

Brian should have known better than to give the boys the day off, completely unsupervised. Even John, Paul, George, and Ringo were shocked. In fact, they were so shocked that they couldn’t think of a single thing to do to fully take advantage of Brian’s huge mistake.

So, they found themselves in the sitting room of George’s flat, staring around at each other with blank looks plastered across their faces. Finally, John was the one to break the silence with a suggestion:

“Why don’t we go to Target?”

It wasn’t the most exciting option out there, but it sure was something, and it was a lot better than sitting around like their wax figures at Madame Tussauds. None of the other boys had any better ideas to offer, so that was that. Before Brian could change his mind, they all piled into George’s car and sped off to their local Target.

“Are we looking for anything specific?” Paul asked the car. Ringo turned around from the passenger seat and grinned back at Paul.

“It doesn’t matter if there’s something specific we’re looking for, we’re bound to walk out with a cart full of things we didn’t even know we needed.”

“I once went to Target looking for a screwdriver and I came out with an inflatable lawn decoration,” George mused. “I don’t think I’ve even taken it out of the box though.”

“There’s something about Target, it just sucks you dry,” Paul thought aloud. He paused for a second and quickly turned to John, who was obviously on the verge of making a bad joke. “Don’t you dare say it,” Paul warned him.

John luckily listened, which saved him from a hefty slap from Paul, and instead shared some wisdom he had picked up from a TikTok he saw the other day.

“You know, I heard somewhere that you can steal a certain amount of stuff from Target and they won’t stop you. They keep track of what you take, but they’ll only pull the authorities in when you’ve surpassed a certain dollar amount of stolen goods. It’s so they can charge it as a serious felony, I think.”

“Huh,” Ringo thought aloud. “So I could steal just under that amount and waltz out of the store?”

“I doubt it’s that black and white,” Paul interjected. “If they catch you taking something, they’re bound to stop you, right?”

“Why don’t we test it, lads?” John grinned. Paul let out a groan; he should have seen where that conversation was going. He had been a fool to assume they were going to take an innocent trip to Target.

“I’m game,” George said from behind the steering wheel. “We were bound to do something stupid today, I’m glad we figured out what that was.”

“Sounds like fun,” Ringo chirped happily. “I’ve never stolen anything before.”

“You haven’t either, have you, Paul?” John teased Paul.

“I have too,” Paul murmured. He had pocketed a single bean from the grocery store when he was 5 and, while his mom made him return the bean to one of the employees working there, he still felt it counted.

John could see straight through Paul’s fib, but he was confident that his mate would participate, as much as he acted like he was against it. Knowing that they were all on board to rob a Target got John feeling especially energized: he couldn’t wait to kick capitalism in the shins.

“Let’s make a competition out of it, Lads,” he announced, clapping his hands together. “30 minutes on the clock, whoever comes out with the most impressive collection of items wins.”

“What’s the prize?” George asked.

“Bragging rights,” John decided. None of the other boys were especially happy about that but, considering they were going to rob a store, they were all already kind of winning something in a sense.

“And one last thing,” John added, “if you get caught, you’ll be disqualified.”

“That’s straight-forward enough to me,” George nodded as he turned into the Target parking lot. “We’ll meet back at the car once our 30 minutes is up then?”

“Yeah,” John said.

“You’re going to get your asses handed to you!” Ringo cackled, unbuckling his seatbelt and rushing into the store before anyone could even set a timer. Paul, John, and George all exchanged tired glances; they knew Ringo was about to do something stupid.

And, of course, they were right. Ringo tore into the Target, the bell dinging above his head as he scanned around the store, his heart beating up into his throat with a wild look in his eyes. He needed to prove to his mates that he could be the best thief out there, one that was bound to earn their utmost respect. Ringo hadn’t really listened to the rules all that much, but he felt that he got the overall gist of the competition: he just had to take the biggest and most impressive thing and not get caught. That was a piece of cake because he, Ringo Starr, was the Master of Deception.

Ringo sprinted for the electronics department, nearly taking out an older gentleman and a mannequin in the process. The mannequin slowly toppled over, flattening the older gentleman behind Ringo, giving him the most action he had received in well over 50 years.

“Ooh!” the older man squealed.

Ringo made it to the section with the really big televisions and felt his pupils dilate tenfold.

“Yes,” he breathed out. Sure, there were three Target employees on the floor nearby, but Ringo was the Master of Deception. He had this in the bag. He managed to slow his breathing down to a pace that didn’t make him look like a rabid animal, and sauntered to the biggest TV in the store. Ringo looked it up and down and then smiled. He was gonna win this thing so hard. He looked to the left, making direct eye contact with one of the employees, and then looked to the right, making direct eye contact with the other employee, and then turned back to the TV. And, in one big grunt, he dislodged the TV from the wall and proceeded to shove it down his pants.

Both employees probably would have made more of an effort to stop him if they hadn’t been so thrown off guard by the fact that he had just put an 80 inch TV down his rear. It was a mystery how he was able to fit that screen in there, but somehow he did it.

Well, Ringo was the Master of Deception after all, I guess he was just doing what he did best.

While the TV was semi-concealed, the latter half of it stuck out of the seat of Ringo’s pants and rose well-above his head, so there was no denying what he was doing. Ringo had grossly miscalculated how heavy the TV was going to be; he was obviously struggling as he attempted to shuffle his way to the front doors. The two employees who had just witnessed this entire shit show exchanged an uncertain glance and shrugged their shoulders. They weren’t paid enough to deal with shit like that. Let the weirdo shove a TV down his pants if he wanted to.

Somehow, by some miracle, Ringo managed to make it to the front doors without being stopped (although he did attract a lot of strange looks). It was only when the metal detectors started to blare through the store that Ringo was surrounded by seven employees, two of which body slammed him to the ground. In a matter of seconds, the TV was removed from his pants and Ringo was sitting against the Starbucks counter by the front door with his arms shackled behind his back, moping not only because he had been eliminated from the competition and arrested, but also because he could no longer confidently say that he was the Master of Deception.

After Ringo powered into the store, Paul, George, and John synced their watches and agreed to meet back in the parking lot to determine the winner (they already knew that Ringo was going to be disqualified, it was only a matter of time before they found out exactly what he had done to eliminate himself).

George was the second to enter the store behind Ringo. As if he was going on any old Target run, George casually strolled through the front doors and made his way directly to the food section. The second John had initially mentioned theft, George’s stomach growled since it had officially been 20 minutes since his last meal. From that second onwards, George could only think about one thing and one thing only: filling the apparent goddamn void in his stomach.

So, in that food aisle, George went to town, carefully packing his shopping cart to the brim with crackers, cookies, sandwich-making materials, and lots and lots of candy. Satisfied with his load, he retreated to the back of the store where he very quickly found the employee break room and settled there, seated eagerly in front of his stuffed cart. A few employees filed in and out of the room as George worked away at his feast, but none of them bothered to stop him because they could care less. This was just an average day at Target: some guy had shoved a TV down his pants a few minutes ago, so George’s spectacle wasn’t even the worst thing they’d seen all day.

In ten minutes, George had consumed well over 50,000 calories and patted his extended stomach with content before letting out a belch that rattled the whole establishment for well-over 10 seconds.

Across the store in the women’s lingerie section, Paul snapped his head up from a rack of nice bras and scanned around in a panic. When he realized that the shaking wasn’t coming from an angry guard storming up to him, Paul’s shoulders relaxed and he returned back to sifting through the silk fabric, trying to find the flashiest bra available.

George collected all of his empty packages and started to shove them into a plastic Target bag that had been discarded in the breakroom so he had evidence of just how many things he had stolen that were now sitting in the bottom of his stomach. But, George wasn’t going to stop there; as impressive as his feat was, he knew that he was up against some tough competition (aka John, Paul didn’t count), so he really had to step up his game.

As he scanned around the store trying to find something good to snag, it occurred to George that he was wearing a red shirt and a pair of khakis (he was long overdue to do his laundry). He was basically an employee at Target, so George knew that he really could take things the extra mile. And oh boy, did he. He approached a cash register where there was an apron and an employee’s scanner sitting loosely around and tugged the apron over his head, adding the scanner to one of his front pockets. To be an incredibly huge nuisance, George went out of his way to unscrew the credit card reader (with his Target screwdriver, of course) and packed that into his apron as well. He checked his phone and, when he saw he had two minutes to spare, he decided that he had had his fun, and returned to the parking lot.

For Paul, when he first entered the store, he was a nervous wreck. Since the bean incident, he had vowed to never do a wrong thing ever again in his life. But, deep down, he knew that he would much rather become a criminal than let down his mates. He especially didn’t want to see the look of disappointment on John’s face if he came back empty-handed; that just wasn’t acceptable.

So, he decided to go the conservative route and start off small. After sneaking a pack of Trident Layers into his coat pocket without so much as a blink of an eye from those in the vicinity, Paul felt his heart rate slow. It was okay, this was fine, he totally had this. So, from there, Paul started to get more of a feel for the sticky fingers, sliding a pack of soap up his sleeve and a daily planner down his shirt. Now he was really feeling the groove of things, so he boldly made his way to the gift card section and grabbed a $20 Applebee's gift card. He was really going wild now. He was yet to face any consequences for his actions, so he booked it to the best part of Target: the electronic section, where Ringo had just been fucking shit up five minutes prior. Attempting to keep all of his stolen goods concealed, Paul strolled up and down the aisles, trying to decide which items on display were the best to grab (aka what would impress John the most). After checking to see if the coast was clear (which it was, since all the staff in the area were busy dealing with Ringo in the front of the store), Paul slid a Nintendo Switch inside his coat and hustled away from the crime scene, giggling to himself.

Now he was on a high. He was bound to win the competition with his impressive level of skill; the rest of the boys had probably already been caught because they were nowhere near as sneaky as him. As Paul hustled past the home goods aisle, he caught a glimpse of a Rolling Stones poster and turned back around with a smug look. The poster immediately went down his pants, where it belonged, so Mick’s face was pressed up against some stuff I’m not going to list out here. To top off the successful day, Paul made his way to the lingerie section to pick out an especially nice bra to give to John as a joke, to really rub in his victory. With the exception of the quick period of shaking that nearly made Paul crap himself, he was poised with a confidence he had never felt before, like he was immortal. Paul crept his way out a side door and returned to George’s car with his head held high and his pockets completely lined with goods, making it to George and John with three seconds to spare.

John knew exactly what he was doing from the get-go. He knew that his mates would all fall for a friendly competition and get so consumed by it that John could do his dirty work undetected. He knew that Ringo was bound to create a distraction big enough for him to do what he set out to do. He wasn’t sure if Paul and George would get caught too but, if they did, that would just be an additional bonus. After watching George and Paul hurry through the front doors, John stomped out his used cigarette on the pavement and ambled in behind them.

“Hey, Ringo,” he calmly greeted his mate as he made it through the front doors, where Ringo was still handcuffed and swarmed by employees and police officers.

“Hi John,” Ringo attempted to wave back, failing miserably. With a satisfied smirk, John moved to the front registers and, one by one, popped them open with a screwdriver that he himself had stolen from Target just the previous week. You’d think that alarms would have gone off, or someone would have noticed, but no, John was the true Master of Deception. He opened his coat to reveal a large, holographic fanny pack (also stolen) and started to fill it with the 1s, 5s, 10s, 20s, and 100s in each cash register. In under a minute, he had emptied out every register in the store, right under the cops’ noses. It was practically a miracle.

While George and Paul were still trying to make their way around the perimeter of the store, finding the best things to take, John was out the front doors in under three minutes, his fanny pack stuffed to the brim with cash just like George’s stomach was about to be with food.

“Fools,” John couldn’t help but laugh to himself as he lit a new cigarette and took out a long, satisfied drag. And, with that, he let himself back into George’s car and reclined backwards in the front seat, his feet kicked up on the dashboard. He kept an eye out for any commotion if someone caught on to his crime, but the store was incredibly peaceful and still, like a lake on a cool summer’s morning. John found that to be oddly beautiful, so much so that he knew he could write a decent song about it, called “Hey Target I Just Robbed You Blind, Suck It”.

After what felt like ages of waiting, George finally emerged from the store and, not too shortly afterwards, Paul trailed out after him.

“Did you see they arrested Ringo?” Paul asked as he plopped in the back seat, his pockets swishing this way and that and a loud, papery crunching noise coming from his pants.

“I was able to get in a quick word with him,” George told Paul. “Turns out he tried to steal the biggest TV in the store by hiding it in his pants.”

“Classic Ringo,” Paul rolled his eyes. “You’re awfully quiet,” he turned to John. “Nervous to lose?”

“You wish,” John snapped back to life, reclaiming his role as the leader of the competition. “Well, let’s go then, boys, shall we? Show off what you were able to grab.”

George was the first to go, and Paul and John’s eyes widened as he emptied out the opened food packages from his stolen bag. He had enough in there to fill half a trash dump.

“I ate all of that in under 10 minutes,” George proudly shared, before letting out another loud burp. “And, I took this.” George untied his apron and threw it in the pile, adding along the scanner and the credit card reader. “They thought I was an employee,” George couldn’t help but laugh as he looked down at his red shirt and khakis.

“What are you gonna do with a credit card reader?” Paul couldn’t help but ask. It seemed like the stupidest thing George could have taken. Well, actually a toilet plunger from the bathroom would have been stupider, but Paul had come to that conclusion earlier after taking the toilet plunger from the men’s room and talking himself into putting it back.

“Dunno,” George shrugged. “It seemed like it would be hard to take, so I took it.”

“That’s admirable,” John admitted, impressed with his younger mate. “Alright Paul, show us your booty.”

Paul couldn’t help but grin in anticipated excitement at his seemingly inevitable victory as he first retrieved the pack of gum and soap, followed by the daily planner and $20 Applebee’s gift card.

“Hold up,” John stopped him. “You’re disqualified.”

“Disqualified?” Paul nearly shouted in shock. “Why?”

John pointed at the Applebee’s gift card.

“That’s a foul right there. No one in their right mind would steal an Applebee’s gift card and consider themselves a winner. That just spoiled whatever else you took, I don’t even want to see it.”

“But I took a Nintendo Switch!” Paul tried to protest, reaching into his coat to grab it.

“I don’t care,” John held his ground, “you’re disqualified.” George watched onwards in excitement; he loved it when he did better than Paul.

“Now how’s that fair?” Paul protested. “We’re all judges here, your word isn’t above ours!”

“It is when I already know I’ve won,” John retorted. Before Paul could fight against this, John unzipped his jacket, displaying his fanny pack. Both Paul and George broke into fits of laughter.

“You can’t be serious, John,” George howled, “You think you won with that?”

“That’s the ugliest thing I’ve ever seen in my life,” Paul added in, relief washing over him that John might have just been giving him a hard time. That theory was quickly abandoned, however, when John, sporting the strongest poker face ever seen in the history of mankind, unzipped the fanny pack, revealing the stacks upon stacks of cash inside.

“I counted it all while you were in there wasting your time,” he explained to George and Paul’s gaping faces. “It’s near $20,000.” George recoiled in shock.

“John,” Paul’s voice was shaking now, “I don’t think that was such a great idea…”

“They haven’t caught me though, have they?” John tested Paul with a raised eyebrow, nodding towards the store.

“But I don’t think you should be sitting in their parking lot with the $20,000 you just stole, John,” George told him, trying to keep his cool.

“I’m not worried about it,” John waved George off. “Ringo’s got them all busy. Meanwhile I’m gonna buy me a new car to celebrate.”

“John,” Paul deadpanned, “you already own three cars. And you don’t have a driver’s license.”

“You really do need to consider other ways to live lavishly,” George agreed.

“What matters is that I’m $20,000 richer and you’re not,” John snapped back at them, growing frustrated that they weren’t as in awe of his achievement as he had hoped.

Right as Paul was about to suggest that John go back inside and return the money before they got into any serious trouble, Ringo knocked on George’s window, accompanied by two cops, making them all jump. After glancing back at John to make sure his money was hidden, George rolled down the window.

“They’re taking me to the sin bin,” Ringo explained, nodding at the two cops who were holding him in a deathlock. “Apparently putting a TV down your pants is considered a crime.”

“No kidding,” Paul told him.

“My bail is supposed to be posted at about $20,000,” Ringo continued, ignoring Paul. “Can you help set old Ringo free?”

Paul and George slowly turned to face John, who was scowling downwards.

“Yes,” George answered for him, “in fact, I think we’ve got $20,000 we can spare.”

Ringo smiled.

[brockadoodles]

the 1 - t. jost

AN: Y’all wanted the folklore stuff back so, even though I never finished the series (i will, eventually), here’s one to start you off with :) 

Word Count: 2325

Warnings: None. 

But we were something don’t you think so? Roaring twenties, tossing pennies in the pool And if my wishes came true It would’ve been you

You grew up in the house across the street from Tyson Jost, and for years he was always just the goofy kid who you would sometimes play street hockey with after school. You would make fun of his unruly brown curls, and he would in turn tell you that your goaltending skills were terrible. As you both got older, your friendship grew. You found yourselves sneaking into each other's rooms late at night, staying up talking about anything and everything with each other. 

When you were 16, you shared an incredibly awkward first kiss. That kiss shortly became more kisses with each other. The kisses progressed into more firsts as you grew to realize that the goofy kid from across the street had become the most important person in your life. An epiphany that your families were not surprised about. 

You slowly became even more inseparable than you already were, forming an attachment to one and other that most young teenagers feel when they think they’re in love. You spent weekends going to Tyson’s hockey games, wearing his jersey proudly; he spent weekdays after practices with you, content smiles almost always on both of your faces as you lounged around each other. 

The thing about your first love is that it's an idea that is built up all around us, whether it’s in a coming of age film or a melodic song whose lyrics seem to fit so perfectly with your own story, or whether it’s the experience of someone around you. You grow up thinking about how one day you’re going to find the perfect person to share life with, and it doesn’t matter what anyone says otherwise. You grow up hearing that your first love will be wild, and crazy, and intense, but you’re taught to enjoy it while it lasts because it never does. You and Tyson were naive to think that you would be the exception.

“I love you.” You blurted out, eyes widening in shock at your admission. Your heart beating loudly in your chest, the words hanging loosely in the air as you waited for Tyson to reply. You were surprised as the three words left your mouth but you also thought that you knew how you felt, and there was something relieving about telling him. The weight of it was becoming too much, and maybe if Tyson wasn’t there yet, that would be okay. 

“You do?” He looked at you, searching your eyes for any sense of regret over the three heavy words. When he didn’t find any, he pulled you close. Tyson wrapped his arms around you securely, instantly calming your nerves. He looked at you for a moment, wondering how he could feel so much for someone else, not truly understanding the implications of his feelings.  

“I love you, too.” He sincerely spoke, leaning in to kiss you softly. 

He didn’t understand at the time that when you’re seventeen, the intensity you feel for someone isn’t usually built for longevity. Perhaps if either of you understood the evanescence of a first love, the three words wouldn’t have been spoken at all. 

-------

 The streets of downtown St. Albert were covered in a thick blanket of snow, white twinkly lights on the various trees, a glistening contrast to the dark wintery sky. You hadn’t been back for Christmas in two years. When you moved to Vancouver for a fresh start after the breakup, your parents always came to you for the holidays, making the argument that spending them in rainy Vancouver was a lot better than snowy St. Albert. You knew that it wasn’t the lack of snow, but it was them trying to spare you from reliving the last Christmas that you hadn’t been able to shake.

“I think it’s just time.” Tyson smiled sadly at you, feeling his own heart break as he spoke. 

Your eyes glassed over as you nodded in agreement. You felt like you were frantically trying to save your heart before it dropped to the floor, shattered and ruined. You knew that he was right, the distance simply not working anymore, no matter how hard you both wanted it to. 

He reached out, his thumb grazing over your cheek to wipe the tears that were now falling. The two of you sitting there in silence, as you both desperately tried to put off the finality of the conversation as long as possible. Knowing you were losing Tyson was like trying to save yourself from drowning, each gasping breath pulling your further and further down beneath the surface. 

“I wish it was different.” He whispered, wiping his own eyes as he watched you turn to leave. Fresh snow falling around the two of you as you stood on his balcony, Christmas lights being the only source of light around you. 

“Me too.” You nodded in agreement, taking one final look at him before turning back inside, making your way out of the house like you had done so many times before, this time only to most likely never come back. 

-------

You glanced at the bakery, seeing the lights in the back illuminated, a couple of employees working on what you could only assume were tomorrow’s pastries. You made note how everything looked just the same, as if no time had passed at all. A realization of just how homesick you had been the last few years while you’d been away.

For a long time you avoided St. Albert, the memories burning a hole softly in your heart, and the thought of coming back filled the hole with uneasiness at the idea of being somewhere that had so many memories of someone who meant so much for a time. You were now years removed from the breakup and you finally felt a new perspective. You were able to think of home without feeling melancholic about Tyson. When you truly allowed yourself to think about it, you missed Christmas in St. Albert. It was home, and that was exactly what you needed now. 

You continued walking down the street, carefully stepping to avoid the slick patches in the sidewalk. You shivered a bit and rubbed your gloved hands together, pulling your arms closer to your body, spotting the general store just a few feet ahead. You walked into the store, instantly feeling the warmth from the heaters on your face. You looked around, heading straight to the wine aisle to pick up what your mom had asked you to get for Christmas Eve. 

You found your way through the aisles with ease, everything in the same spots they had been in the last time you were there. A wave of nostalgia passed through you as you made your way through the store. You thought back to the summers you and Tyson spent together, always coming to the general store for what he called “the absolute lake day essential pack” each time you planned on going out to the lake. 

You smiled to yourself as you passed by the various snacks and drinks. Tyson invading your thoughts once more.  

“Tyson, we’re going to be gone for a few hours. I think you might be overdoing it.” You laughed as he tossed item after item into the shopping cart.

“I am truly offended. Babe, this is the absolute lake day essential pack. No item can be forgotten.” He wrapped an arm around you and placed a sloppy kiss to your cheek. 

The lake day essential pack became a tradition for every lake trip, even though you never actually finished everything that you bought. Instead, spending most of the day in the water, laughing with each other.      

-------

You didn’t know that he was back in town, the two of you losing touch years ago. Your thoughts used to be consumed with how it would feel to see him again. By all definitions of the term, Tyson was your first love. The kind of fleeting, youthful, wreckless, wild love that you grasped onto for as long as you could. There was a time when you thought he was the one, that all of the obstacles you would have to face to be together would work out in the end. You spent those years imagining what it would be like to marry him, picturing how you’d feel walking down the aisle, seeing him there. 

“Do you think it’ll be this beautiful when we get married?” Tyson squeezed your hand, looking at you softly. You felt butterflies erupt in your stomach, looking toward the archway where in just a few moments your cousin would be getting married. White lilies and pastel pink dahlias framing the light stained wooden archway. 

You looked into his eyes, seeing nothing but sincerity in them. His hand holding yours firmly. You didn’t get the chance to answer his question, instead hearing the beginnings of the wedding march. As you watched your cousin walk down the aisle, you couldn’t help but make subtle glances at the groom. He was watching your cousin, eyes watering as he took in her beauty. You subconsciously leaned into Tyson more and he leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. You didn’t know how to describe the feeling, but you knew that one day that would be him up there, waiting for you. 

--------

You walked out of the general store and braced yourself for the cold once more, reasoning with yourself that it was only a few blocks to your parents house and once you were there you could spend the rest of the evening watching old Christmas movies and sipping on the extra wine you just bought. 

You started making your way back down the path you came in from, taking in your surroundings as you passed by the various shops. You rounded the corner, passing by the old diner. You thought back to all of the times you and Tyson would be found there, late at night in the same corner booth you always sat in, the faux leather seats probably even more frayed with holes than they were all those years ago.

“Who’s going to come sit in this ugly booth with me now that you’re leaving?” You asked, feeling the weight of Tyson leaving the following day for his first training camp in Colorado. You were incredibly proud of him for accomplishing his dream, but that didn’t stop the worries of what the future would hold for the two of you now that the reality of it all was setting in. 

Tyson smiled sadly at you, wishing he could stop the hurt that he was causing. His whole life he had dreamed of playing in the NHL, spending years training and practicing. He didn’t expect to be sad about leaving St. Albert, until he fell in love with you. 

“It’s not forever, I’ll be back for Christmas.” He said, feeling certain in that moment that his words were true, that he would be back for Christmas with you. If only he knew that the next time he was home, your relationship would have fallen apart in just a matter of months, the young love forced to confront the truth that what you had wasn’t going to be the same after this moment. 

---------

You could see him clearly, standing outside the diner the two of you once called “your place.” He was laughing wholeheartedly at what the beautiful girl he was with was saying, his arm wrapped loosely around her as they talked. Time felt like it was slowing down, and you were stuck in a moment, feeling something about your relationship with him that you didn’t realize you needed. You felt an eerie sense of calm, knowing that he was happy. That was all you ever wanted for him, and while it used to hurt knowing it wouldn’t be with you, you were looking at him and the past so clearly. Tyson wasn’t meant to be your forever, and that was okay. He was a memory, a moment in time, that you could look back on adoringly. 

You had been living in Vancouver for just under a year, finally finding a core group of friends and settling into your new life. The wounds from your breakup still felt fresh, and you knew Tyson was out in Colorado, having adventures on his own. 

You desperately wanted to move on, find your own place in the world without waking up everyday, mind racing with thoughts of him. Your friends tried to help you move on, even going as far as to set you up with various other boys. You went on a few dates here and there, never feeling like you could fully open up to someone the way you had with Tyson.

You compared every boy you ever met to Tyson, he was a country away but he still had a grasp on your heart that you didn’t know how to get back. You often wondered if he thought of you still. Maybe if you knew that he did, and if one of you made an attempt at reconciliation, things would turn out dramatically different for you both. 

Tyson turned, spotting you from where he was standing. He smiled, nodding slightly at you before turning back to the woman he was with. His expression was comforting, familiar and kind. You knew in that moment he experienced the same feelings you just had, recognizing the slight realization he had as he looked at you briefly. You were strangers who happened to love a past version of each other. 

But that’s the thing about a first love right? The transitory feeling, ignoring just how naive you were to think it would last. If one thing had been different, things might have been different today. It could have been you by his side. 

[fearfulkittenwrites]

“Just a normal night”

Inspired by @s-mscott​ - link for the art, please check it out!

Word count: 2832

Notes: HEY. THIS IS JUST BEEN SITTING ON MY FILES FOR THE LONGEST TIME AND I COMPLETELY FORGOT ABOUT IT DKJFHAKJHAKJDFH. Anyway, it's a long time coming. The writing probs isn't as neat or as good as the latest uploads bc of that, but... idk. Hopefully it's good! I couldn't bring myself to edit it again, sorry about that. I hope you can enjoy it anyways and please go check out the artist, @s-mscott​!

“Guys?” Dick asked, on his tiptoes as he rummaged through every cabinet in the huge kitchen “Hey are we out of cereal? I can’t find my Lucky Charms anywhere.”

“I think so.” Jason answered “I ate the last of the Lucky Charms last night.”

“Yep.” Tim said, popping the ‘p’ as he slid through the countertop, landing a bit behind Dick “I had the last of the frosted flakes two days ago.”

“Froot Loops?” Dick asked.

“I had those.” Duke answered “Sorry.”

“Fruity Pebbles?”

 Cass raised her hand, looking at the ground.

“Reese’s Puffs?”

“I finished the box yesterday.” Damian announced, crossing his arms as he leaned against the marble sink.

“Damn.” Dick murmured and pouted as he closed the cabinet’s door “I’ve been craving cereal today.”

“We can always go get some.” Jason shrugged.

“At three in the morning?” Duke asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Actually, four.” Jason corrected, putting up a finger “And yeah, why not? I mean, we had a hard patrol tonight, and if Dick wants some cereal, I say let’s go get some cereal.”

“It’s four in the morning, Todd.” Damian said.

“I mean, the closest Walmart is open 24/7.” Tim interfered.

“You can’t be seriously considering this, Grayson.” Damian frowned at his older brother.

“Why not? I’m not sleepy anyways.” Dick crossed his arms and shrugged.

“Yes!” Jason hissed “Late night adventures with the baby bats. Let’s roll!” He clapped his hands once, and started to walk out of the kitchen, his siblings following him to the garage.

“Oh wait!” Dick said “Let’s ring up Bruce and see if there’s anything else we need.”

“Bold of you to assume he’d know what we need.” Tim interfered.

“Yeah, well, it’s worth a shot. Plus, do any of us really want to wake up Alfred to ask him?” Dick said, taking his communicator out of his pocket and placing it in his ear “B? Have a sec?” He asked

“Nightwing. What’s wrong?” Came the answer, Batman’s raspy voice flowing through the device.

“Oh, nothing’s wrong. We’re going to take a quick trip to the supermarket, I wanted to ask if you need anything.”

“... At four in the morning?”

“Yeah. Do you need anything?”

Bruce sighed.

“We’re running out of the coffee blend that Tim likes. Alfred the cat’s favorite treats have been gone since last week, and Cass’ favorite ice cream is done. Oh, buy Duke that soda he likes, I drank the last can. Also, Jason’s cookies and that brand of chips you like, we ran out of those. Oh, and buy something with Iron in it, I’m worried that Damian might not be getting enough.”

“Like spinach?” Dick said, writing it down on his phone’s notes.

“Yeah, that’ll do. Ah, and we’re a little low on milk.”

“Okay. Will keep that in mind. Thanks B, have a nice patrol.”

“Please don’t give the papers any headlines.”

“You got it, B. Bye.”

He placed the device back on his pocket.

“Okay, there’s a lot of stuff to buy, so let’s get going. I’ll drive.”

“Shotgun!” Jason yelled.

“We’re taking the S.U.V., one of you will need to ride in the trunk.” Dick said.

“I’ll go.” Cass’ eyes twinkled. No one could understand why she was always so fascinated with the idea of riding in the trunk, but she seemed to find it fun and all of them thought that her excitement was cute.

“Alright then.” Dick smiled, ruffling her hair. Her grin grew wider, and Duke set her hair straight again before they got into the car.

“Hey, can I play my music?” Tim asked from the backseat.

“Don’t force us to listen to the atrocity Drake calls music, Grayson.” Damian complained, arms crossed “Let me play something.”

“Uh, I’d rather not listen to Mozart and Bach while we’re in the car.” Duke protested.

“It’s called classic for a reason, Thomas.”

“Doesn’t matter, bat-brat.” Jason said “I’m with him on this one. Besides, universal car rules, shotgun DJ’s.”

“Since when?” Tim asked.

“Since now.” Jason said, plugging his phone in.

“Uh, I don’t think so.” Dick took the cord from him “According to ‘Supernatural’ rules, ‘Driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cakehole’. So that’s mine.”

“No one else watches this show Dickhead!” Jason pulled the cord back.

“Doesn’t matter, because I’m older!” Dick pulled it back again.

“Age is just a number!” Tim pushed himself to the front seat and took the cord back.

“Great point Drake!” Damian pulled him back by his waist, stealing the cord from him too.

“Hey, stop with the fuss, I’m gonna crash the car!” Dick said.

“Maybe we should just play Beyoncé...” Duke suggested. The car went silent for a while.

“Okay.” Dick said “Put on ‘Single Ladies’.”

“No. ‘Halo’ is her best.” Damian complained.

“Uhm, no way? I’m playing ‘Drunk in Love’, and that’s it.” Tim shot back.

“Are you crazy? Play ‘Formation’.” Duke interfered.

“I like ‘Run the World’...” Cass said quietly from the trunk.

“Yeah, okay,” Tim murmured “We’ll play that.”

The girl smiled as the first notes from the song filled the car.

There weren’t many cars in the parking lot, which was expected. They picked up two carts, and Dick hopped inside the one Jason was pushing.

“Dude!” Duke started “You’re in your mid-twenties!”

“Leave me alone, I nearly sprained my ankle today.” Dick stuck his tongue out. No one else questioned anything beyond that. The employees simply sighed, used to the two older brothers and their antics.

“Hey Parker.” Jason greeted the nighttime security guard.

“Hey. I see you two brought the whole gang tonight.” He answered.

“Yup.” Dick smiled.

“So this is a regular thing for the two of you?” Duke asked.

“Are you really surprised, Duke?” Tim shot back.

“No. Not really.”

“Okay. First stop, Bruce said we need to get Tim’s coffee.” Dick exclaimed, looking at the list.

Jason led the way, Dick grinning like a child on the cart, Cass quietly following as she pushed their second cart, Duke making friendly conversation with her while Tim and Damian kept bickering right behind them.

“Oh, wait!” Dick held on to the metal bars “We’re right next to the cookies and Bruce said we’re out of your favorites, Jay.” He looked up.

“Alright, a little detour then.” Jason turned them around, quickly grabbing his treats “Anyone wants anything else from this aisle?”

“But... We don’t need anything else from the aisle.” Duke pointed out.

“Um, we have a billionaire’s credit card?” Tim said “Bruce won’t freak out if we buy a few extra things.”

“Uuuh, they have those koala shaped cookies!” Dick hopped out of the cart “How many do I get?”

“I want one.” Cass said.

“Chocolate or strawberries?”

“Uh… I want both.” She answered.

“Okay, one each for the lady, two strawberries for me...”

“I want a chocolate one.” Tim said.

“Me too.” Damian asked.

“Oh, just take twenty boxes, ten of each flavor.” Jason interfered, dumping them on Cass’ cart “We’ll share later.”

“Oh my God, those are expensive!” Duke said, exasperated.

“Yeah. So?” Jason shot back.

“Bruce is a billionaire, bro. He won’t mind.” Dick said, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“Yeah, well, it’s easy for you guys to say it. You grew up like that. It’s kinda hard to accept this when you aren’t used to having so much.” Duke answered, scratching his neck.

“Hey, I get that feeling lil’ bro.” Jason tapped his back “I spent my childhood in Gotham’s streets.”

“Yeah. I mean, I grew up in the circus. I wasn’t used to the idea of getting brand new stuff instead of asking for hand-me-downs from our friends whenever I grew out of my clothes.” Dick interfered.

“But... Just think about it like this.” Jason got closer to him “We now can get everything we couldn’t in the past.”

Duke frowned. Jason nodded encouragingly.

“That... Doesn’t help.”

“I tried.” Jason shrugged. Dick hopped back in the cart “To the coffee aisle!” He exclaimed, pushing his brother around.

“Hang on.” Tim said “This is where they leave the energy drinks. Let me take some.”

“Why do you insist on drinking this crap, Drake?” Damian scowled, reading the label in one of the cans “If you have such a death wish, jumping in front of a train is a much cheaper, quicker alternative.”

“Shut up, little devil.” Tim picked up cans from his favorite brand.

“Jason, push me a little farther down the aisle, please.” Dick asked “They keep their iced teas over there.”

“Ugh, Grayson, you disgust me.” Damian rolled his eyes.

“Don’t be so judgemental Lil’ D.” He smiled, being pushed away by Jason.

As they examined the cans, Dick noticed he had attracted the looks of a middle aged man, a couple of steps from them. He was staring at his hoodie, that contained the frase ‘I love dick’ printed on it.

“Oh,” He exclaimed, smiling at the guy “My name is Richard. That’s why it’s funny.” The man nodded “I’m also queer as fuck, so that makes it better.” He added nonchalantly, and the man’s eyes widened “Okay Jay, I picked up all I wanted, let’s go back.”

“Alright you little shits, back to the coffee quest.” Jason said, leading the way once again. This time, they finally made it to the coffee aisle. Tim crouched down, looking for his favorite blend.

Cass got a little curious once she laid eyes on a colorful package on the top shelf. She picked it up and handed it to Dick.

“Read. Please.”

“This is an espresso roast. Here it says that it has notes of strawberry? Vanilla and... Sugar cane. Colombian coffee. Seems nice. Wanna take it?”

“Yes.” She nodded. Dick dropped it on his cart.

Cass wandered away, still looking at all of the coffee blends.

“Hey girlie,” A guy whistled at her, next to his group of friends “Nice ass.”

She squinted at them.

“Yo, asshole!” Tim screamed, getting their attention “That’s our sister!” He threw a bag of coffee beans at the guy’s face, causing his nose to bleed.

“Hey, who do you think you are?” One of them started to walk up to her brothers. Cass could tell that he wanted trouble, so she grabbed his arm and slammed his face against the shelf, so quickly and brutally that it barely budged, leaving the products unbothered, but the guy fell to the floor, disoriented. She stared at him.

“We are Waynes.” Damian answered, pacing towards them quietly, hands on his pockets “I suggest you apologize immediately for the troubles, if you wouldn’t want to get a hefty lawsuit for your harrasment.”

“Uh, sorry bro.” One of them started, a little scared “We didn’t-”

“Not to me.” He interrupted “To her.”

“We’re sorry, miss Wayne.” All of them mumbled.

“Now promise you won’t do it again.” Damian added.

“We won’t do it again.” They started at the floor, next to where their fallen friend laid down.

“Good.” He squinted “Help your friend up, and get out of my sight.”

They did as they were told, helping his friend walk straight again. As Cass headed back, Dick gently touched her arm, looking up at her.

“Hey, are you alright?” She smiled and gave him a thumbs up. He smiled back.

“Does this happen often?” Jason asked.

“Sometimes.” She shrugged “But they always say sorry after I break their nose.”

“Ayy, that’s our girl.” Jason praised “Alright, we got the coffee. Where to next?”

“Let’s see... Next item is Alfred the cat’s treats.” Dick said.

“Ha!” Damian laughed loudly “As if Alfred would eat the... peasant treats that this store offers. No. I’ve already bought the adequate brand from an online shop.”

“Okay...” Dick raised an eyebrow “Then... Cass’ ice cream is next, but I think we should leave that as the last item, so it won’t melt, which leads us to Duke’s soda because Bruce had the last can.”

“Let’s go then. I think that the cereal aisle is on the way, so we’ll get that first.” Jason said, pushing the cart around again.

“Which ones do we get?” Tim asked, looking through the shelf.

“Everything that has sugar.” Dick answered. His brother began handing him boxes, when they heard a small whisper.

“Oh my God, are those...?” A girl said to her friend, attracting the eyes of the siblings. The duo averted their gaze quickly. Cass frowned at them.

“Relax.” Jason smiled, placing an arm on her back “They’re probably just... Fans.”

“Fans?” She asked, still staring suspiciously at them.

“Yeah.” Dick shrugged “I mean, we’re not super stars, but we do hit the papers pretty often. A bunch of people know us here in Gotham.” The girls were looking again, and Dick gave them a small wave, making them giggle “See? Nothing to worry about.”

“Hum.”

“Hey there, ladies.” Jason greeted, a cheeky smile on his face “What brings you to this fine establishment tonight?”

“We ran out of energy drinks.” One of them answered “What about you?”

“Cereal.” Dick answered, lifting two boxes. They giggled again.

“Hey, um... can we maybe get a picture?” The girl asked “It’s just that... no one will believe us when we tell them about this.”

“Absolutely not!” Damian answered.

“Nah, don’t listen to the little brat.” Jason said “Go ahead.”

Dick held up the boxes again, smiling as Jason made a ‘crazy’ motion with his hands. Tim turned around as the photo was being taken, turning him into a blurr with tired eyes.

“Can we get some selfies too?” The other one asked, grinning.

“No!” Damian protested again.

“Of course you can!” Dick said “Duke, Cass, come here.” He called.

All of them gathered around the cart Dick was staying at, even Damian. He didn’t look so pleased as the photo was taken, but neither did Cass.

“Thanks. You guys really are nice.” The first girl said.

“Oh, you have no clue on how nice I can be.” Jason winked, making her blush “Tell you what, why don’t I give you my phone number and you can text me those pictures later, hm?”

“Sure.” The girl bit her lips as Jason scribbled his number on her wrist.

“You are such a flirt.” Dick rolled his eyes as the girls walked away.

“What, like you aren’t?” Jason snorted, pushing him away, looking for where they kept the soda.

“I think Cass didn’t like that interaction very much.” Tim whispered to his older brothers, who turned around to find a frowning baby bat. Jason chuckled.

“What’s wrong, sis?” She scowled at him “Oh, c’mon, don’t get jealous.” He threw an arm around her shoulder “You know you’ll always be our number one girl, but a guy has his needs. And sometimes, a guy needs a date.”

Cass pushed him away, rolling her eyes as Duke placed five soda cans on her cart.

“Why would you even drink this sugar filled monstrosity, Thomas?” Damian asked, reading the labels “Grandfather wouldn’t even feed his prisoners something as revolting as this.”

“Because, Bat-brat,” He said “We’re all entitled to enjoy at least one or two things that may ultimately be responsible for our deaths.”

“I suppose.” He murmured, lifting an eyebrow “You make much finer points than the rest of them. Father has been looking for heirs in the least suitable places, I assume.” He clicked his tongue “It’s a good thing I’m here to help.”

“Okay...” Duke answered, raising his eyebrows and averting his gaze. There was only so much strangeness that he could handle.

“Great, now we need to get my chips and spinach.” Dick stated.

“Spinach?” Tim asked “Why spinach?”

“B thinks Damian may have been needing more iron in his diet.” Dick shrugged.

“Aaw.” Tim said “That’s actually kinda cute. Do you think he ever worries about our diets?”

“Don’t be stupid Tim, of course he doesn’t.” Jason answered.

“He does.” Dick shot back “He worries about us, he just... Really, really, really, reaaaally sucks at showing it sometimes.”

“Potatoe, potatoe.” Jason murmured.

“Yeah, whatever. Keep me moving Little Wing, we have stuff to pick up and my tiredness is catching up to me.” Dick pointed forward.

“Sure. But the chips are in the opposite direction.”

“Well turn me around then, do you want me to look like an idiot?” Dick said, a little exasperated.

“I wish you had an off button sometimes.” Jason sighed as he made his way to the chips section.

An employee, mopping the floor with a bored expression, looked up from what he was doing when he saw the Wayne gang talking loudly. Dick tried to control his brothers from inside the cart, and had just told Jason to separate a fight between Tim and Damian. Duke and Cass snicker as they saw a bored, six feet tall Jason pushing his much smaller brothers apart.

“Yep.” The employee murmured to himself “Billionaires shopping at Walmart at four in the morning. Just a normal night.”

Hey! If you made it this far, please consider reblogging this? It helps with spreading my fics and it makes me very happy, hahahaha!

Regardless, thanks for reading <3

[osterfieldshollandgirl]

Golf Games Part One

            In the summer, your friend and you decided to get a job on a golf course as caddies, hoping to meet cute boys and save up money for university. This job was only supposed to be for the summer, however, with everything going on your job opened after being closed for months. This was a good thing but now this meant that you had to get up early and go to work by 8:30 in the morning. Today seemed like a good day when you woke up in a good mood and you hoped it stayed bubbly all day as your mood gets more tips and requests for you as a caddy meaning a raise. The rule is that you as an employee must wear a mask, however, the golfers did not have to wear a mask. This was not at times. My uniform is not too bad, it consists of polo and black slacks which are quite flattering. I noticed the time is near 7 and I am scheduled to work at 7:45 it seemed like a good idea going early.           

                 I reach the course at 7:20 and taking my time gathering my belongings, I notice a boy looking down at his camera. As I am walking up to the door, I did not notice a person walking and bumped right into their chest causing me to fall forwards falling almost on top of the person. A deep groan comes from the person saying "Oh no my camera"  and I see a camera still in tack and I sigh in relief picking it up as I quickly stand up brushing some grass off of me and hold a hand out for the person to grab. I realize that I have my mask on and am grateful that they could not see my red face. I finally get the nerve to see who it is and I see that this person has red curly hair, brown eyes, and looks around my age, he is attractive. The words that come out of his mouth though not so much. He scuffs and picks himself up and rudely says, "Watch where you are going, you could have hurt either one of us." I feel myself glare a little and add a snarky reply, "I am sorry that I bumped into you, but you could also have looked up from your camera." He looks at me curiously to me talking back and says, "I am sorry sweetheart, but you also could have not been running like a deer in the middle of the road." I laugh sarcastically and say, "Well this is fun, but I have to go to work. Have a pleasant day and hopefully I will not have to see you again." I am walking away as I hear him yell back, "Same goes to you." I can feel his annoying smirk on his face. I shake my head and walk to clock in and realized that I have been assigned to the Hollands and get myself together after that interaction.           

        After getting myself together, I head to the lobby to meet the people I am caddying for and see my friend is helping the other people sadly. I go over to her and explain the whole thing to her as we had the time and she laughs at the end of my story. Offended I ask, "What is so funny?" She answers, "It seems like he kind of flirty with you in a sarcastic way. I think it's cute that you stood up for yourself though." Letting the words sink into my head, I hear my name as I bid goodbye to her and walk towards a group of people somewhat near my age. I hear and "This is your caddy who will take care of you, Y/n. She is a great person please do not feel afraid to ask her for anything." My boss finished and walked away. As I am packing up the cart, I hear "Oh great it's you again." I roll my eyes knowing exactly who is behind me. I turn around and notice all the boys are not wearing masks so I can see their handsome faces. The one with beautiful brown eyes and curly brown hair smiles and rolls his eyes at the boy making me laugh a little. He walks over and stops at a safe distance, "I am sorry for his attitude, I am Tom, that idiot is Harry, and the blue-eyed boy is Harrison." I smile and realize that they cannot see it and say, "Hi I am Y/n, nice to meet you." I hear Harry scuff and ignore him as I head to go drive the golf cart Tom stops me. I freeze and look up and say, "Is something wrong?" He shakes his head and flirts, "Is it possible if I drive the cart, you can sit and enjoy the view" winking at me as he finishes his sentence. I blush and nod, as I go to sit down in the back of the cart, I feel someone looking at me and have a feeling it is Harry.        

          Throughout the game, it is hard not to check out the boys and admire how good they are at the game at such a young age. At first, everything was okay until I went to bend down to get a ball and a boy who is too privileged for his good walking by whistled and said, "Why don't you come to join my group, I can make your day" winking at me, I gasp in disgust and see Tom walk over quickly. He wraps an arm around my waist, and I blush underneath my mask as he says, "Do not disrespect a woman like that especially a beautiful one like her. So, I kindly suggest you walk away." I am shaking underneath his touch and he sensed it as he pulls me closer causing me to become less shaky and calmed down. Others are now walking by and observing the interaction. The group walks away as they see this is causing a scene and that Tom is much stronger than them all combined. I turn completely around and hug Tom tightly as I feel tears down my face. He pulls away and pulls down my mask slightly wipe the tears then adjusting it properly. He smiles and says, "I am sorry that happened to you. I feel sick that people are like that. Now let's move on and I will teach you how to play golf the correct way." I laugh and nod as we walk over, I sense that the others were watching and go pack to move on to the other whole. On the cart ride Harry looks over and I see guilt and embarrassment in his eyes, I look away and sigh to myself. After Tom parked the cart and I could get off, a hand grabs my wrist, and I am pulled aside.     

                Harry clears his throat and says, "I am sorry for being rude to you this morning, I had no right to act like that. What happened back there was wrong, and I should have done something, but Tom came to the rescue which benefited you." I scuff and retort, "I do not see how this is an apology as you are thinking that I set that up to be protected. This is not the first time that has happened, and my work does not allow me to talk back. Excuse me for appreciating someone who stands up for something wrong." I walk back towards Tom and Harrison taking a deep breath, leaving a confused and bitter Harry behind. As I reach Tom and before he could ask what is wrong, Harry comes storming over and says, "You have no right to assume that I would not protect a girl and snapping at me like that was unnecessary. I think we should ignore each other and just finish up this round and be done for the day." I am speechless as I look at the ground and see only blur thinking how this day could get possibly worse until Tom asks one question to which I must answer honestly.

              Tom asks gently, "What did you say to Harry's love?" I take a deep breath and answer hesitantly, "He 'apologized' and in the same sentence said I set up the incident to gain protection from you guys. I just said that I can not talk back and you protecting me was appreciated. He did not do anything, so it is not fair for me to be judged like that." I wait for the response to be agreeing but it goes the opposite and Tom in a monotone voice says, "I can see your point but also his point is valid. I need to be careful, but I did what was right for me. Talking back like that was a bit rude." My reaction immediately was to snap back which I did unconsciously, "I cannot believe that you are taking his side. I can not protect myself due to rules, but I thought the way you protected me you were on my side. You and Harry are as bad as those guys. Not you Harrison though you are decent." "Love, that is not what I meant- "he starts before I shake my head and nod saying bluntly, "I have a feeling I will not need any golf lessons after this. Let's just move on so this is over please." I hear them get into the cart and not being able to be near any of them I walk alongside and ignore their pleas for me to sit. 

        They are finally at the last hole and the last hour has been torture whereas before it was full of laughter and fun, it is now sadness and awkward tension. Tom will try to talk but I answer respectfully with short answers and will ask them ever so often if they would like anything and stay quiet for the rest of the time. Harrison walked with me instead of going in the cart after we cleaned up and headed back to the lounge area. He was humming to himself and I couldn't help but blurt out, "You smell really good." He laughs and says, "Thank you love" and I am taken back by his voice it's a bit deeper than the others. He compliments back, "I am impressed with how you stood up for yourself back there. They both should not have ganged up on you. However, you should also understand Harry is a different person, so you are talking back makes him more edged on. He seems to take a liking in you though." I laugh slightly shaking my head and ask, "How he yelled at me in front of you just now?" He looks at me knowingly, "He also would look and check up on you when you were not looking. I assure you two do make sense but the chemistry between you both is real and electric. I wish I could find something like that." Smiling and looking at him slight flirting, "Well you are very handsome, so any girl is lucky. Those blue eyes make me feel dreamy." 

         He smiles shyly slightly blushing and says cutely, "Wow, Harry is lucky you are beautiful and caring." I blush and jokingly lean on Harrison as we walk for a second making us laugh. We walk by each other's side and I test the theory and see Harry watching us from afar as they pass by us as we are reaching the lounge, I wave to break the tension to which he looked away. At the lounge, the boys start to walk away, and hoping Tom would come to say something to me is rejected as he goes to talk to my boss. I feel anxious about what it could be about and what makes it worse is that Harry is talking to my friend in a flirtatious way. She is giggling and making him smile making me more annoyed until Harrison puts his hands-on shoulder causing me to jump and turn to him. He looks down at me as he much taller than me and says, "Listen he is trying to make you jealous because he saw us flirting a little so either we make it look real or tell the truth." I smile up at him as our masks are allowed to be off at this point and say, "Game On" and intertwined our hands together making sure that Harry sees making him more envious.

@littlekidsteve​ @hollandsimpson @tom-holland-is-spiderman @follow-tom-holland-is-spiderman @parkerpeter24 @frenchfrostpudding @osterfieldnholland  @fanficparker @mymoontom @marvels-blue-phoenix @holytingle @petertiingz @fancyxholland

[lettheladylead]

avoid the unhappy ending (ch1-2)

ships/characters: Goldie, Quackfaster, Gyro, Fenton, Lil Bulb, Manny, Boyd, Launchpad, Scrooge/Goldie words (so far): ~2800 summary: Goldie comes to town to see Scrooge. Instead, she somehow manages to run into literally everyone else. ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27108943

First two chapters are up!

It was a Saturday afternoon. Normally she wouldn’t be in Duckburg, but she was passing through on her way back north and thought a little stop could be nice. Just pop in and say hello, maybe stay for a swim in the money bin or a sleepover if Scrooge asked. He wouldn’t ask, but she was always up for it.

Security at the bin was the same as usual. It always felt like there was a gap just for her - though obviously Scrooge wouldn’t be foolish enough as to leave his guard down for a professional thief. That being said, she was in his office quicker than usual, and a brief scan of the room told her she was alone.

“Huh,” Goldie breathed out, wiping her hand along his desk and taking a seat in his big chair. She spun around a few times, then stopped and looked at the different drawers. They were all locked, which didn’t change anything for her, but she knew this desk was mostly paperwork. Nothing of note, nothing of interest. Even a spare few dollar bills wasn’t worth the effort.

She stood up and walked over to the vault. It was closed, but perhaps Scrooge went for a more...private swim. That’d be fun to interrupt (and/or join in on). Her left shoulder made a terrible cracking sound as she slowly opened the door and she groaned a bit, popped her head in, and listened closely.

No sounds whatsoever.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Goldie groaned, rubbing at her shoulder and stepping fully into the vault. She looked up and down, left and right, but there was clearly no Scrooge to be found.

She sighed and closed the vault door on her way out in a sudden burst of politeness. Alright. Often Scrooge spent his Saturday afternoons catching up on work that he missed during adventures out of town. Apparently this was not one of those Saturday afternoons. Her shoulder was still a little sore, so Goldie decided to exit the normal way. Maybe someone would see her and call Scrooge to let him know. That’d be fine with her, she didn’t want to spend the whole day just looking for him.

But she had no such luck as it seemed the majority of his administrative employees weren’t working on a weekend. Made sense. Goldie poked her head into every other room to see if Scrooge was in a meeting or doing something or whatever, but he just...wasn’t there! It was agitating. Just a little bit.

The next door she spied was to the Archives. Goldie spent very little time in this room, since she had a pretty decent memory and didn’t need a piece of paper to remind her what year something happened in. Scrooge loved to talk about himself and his accomplishments, so there was rarely anything she needed to know that she didn’t already.

With a shrug, she entered the room anyway, considering the possibility that Scrooge could just be reading through old files like the old fogey he was. The door creaked loudly and almost immediately, Goldie made eye contact with the only other person there.

“What the…”

Goldie frowned as the other woman spoke and started walking towards her. This was not someone she’d had to interact with in a long time.

“Goldie O’Gilt, is that you?”

“Ah...Quackfaster. Nice to see you,” Goldie responded with a characteristic smirk. “Still working as Scrooge’s secretary, then?”

Quackfaster snorted and looked down at Goldie’s hands, clearly checking for stolen items. “Archivist. But you already knew that.”

“I did.”

Emily didn’t see anything on Goldie, and nothing near her seemed to be missing, so she turned around and headed back to her cart. “What are you doing here, O’Gilt? I know there’s nothing in this room you’d want to take.”

Goldie glided a finger against one of the shelves and cringed at the amount of dust that accumulated so quickly. “You can’t know that for sure.”

Her response was just a brief glare before she went back to filing.

“Alright, yeah,” Goldie stepped a bit closer, relishing in the way that Quackfaster flinched and reached for the sword that Goldie knew she had on her. “I’m just looking for Scrooge. Do you know where he is?”

“He’s not here,” Quackfaster said as she struggled to shove a certain book into a spot that was a little high up for her. “I assume, anyway. I haven’t seen him.”

Goldie rolled her eyes before reaching over and grabbing the book, getting on her tip-toes and putting it in its place. “Don’t you know his schedule, Secretary?”

“Archivists don’t keep schedules, Thief,” she scoffed. “Even if I knew where he was, I wouldn’t tell you. So have fun walking around town like a lovesick puppy.”

“Excuse me?” Goldie couldn’t contain her offense at the simile and proceeded to knock over Quackfaster’s cart of books before rushing out - leaving a loud crash and a pile of old papers in her wake.

Emily sighed and looked down at the pile. At her next salary meeting, she was definitely bringing this up.

Goldie, on the other hand, was back to business. That conversation had been entirely unhelpful and mostly unpleasant and very incorrect. Lovesick puppy? What was she, a teenager? She just wanted to see Scrooge so she could brag about her latest exploits - remind him of how nice it is to not be boggled down by family...maybe get some food. Sure, she loved him (or whatever), but she wasn’t sick over him. She wasn’t some kid in a bad romantic comedy. She was Goldie O’Gilt!

Quackfaster told her Scrooge wasn’t around, but she didn’t really know. And then, even she had, she might’ve told Goldie the opposite of the truth. There were a lot of angles to consider, as there usually was. So Goldie did what any sharp shooter would do - she decided to check out the last place in the Money Bin that Scrooge might be...the weird underwater lab.

--

She didn’t normally take elevators. They weren’t safe or secure. She could still remember when elevators first became a common thing...people became so reliant on them so quickly.

This was all she could think about in the slow, slow ride down to the lab where she was desperately hoping she’d find Scrooge. It’d be a shame to find out this trip to the Money Bin was a waste. If he wasn’t down here, she’d be stealing something for sure.

The doors opened and she was welcomed by two incredulous stares. She crossed her arms and stuck out her hip, staring back at them.

The two men looked at one another and then back at her.

“I don’t have time for this. Inter- er, Employee! Go!”

“Yes, Sir!”

Goldie stepped out of the elevator and looked around to see a distinct lack of Scrooge McDuck. She frowned. The shy-looking duck waddled up to her and smiled.

“Hi there! Welcome to Dr. Gearloose’s lab!” Fenton reached out a hand. “What can we do for you?”

She looked down at his hand and then back up at his face. “You seem familiar,” she said cautiously, grabbing his hand with two fingers and giving him a single shake before letting go. “...were you ever a Sheriff?”

“No, ma’am!” He didn’t give any sort of negative reaction to her odd question. “But mi mama is a police officer, so that’s close! Sort of!”

“Mama…” Goldie paused and put a hand to her beak in thought. “Oh! Are you Cabrera’s boy?”

“Wh…” Fenton blinked several times in surprise. “You know her?”

“You could say that,” Goldie said smugly. “We had a run-in a little over two decades ago. I remember you being much smaller.”

Fenton scrunched his face and considered her words, realizing after not long that this was someone on the other side of the law. “Um…”

She strode past him and towards the other man she’d seen earlier. “Is Scrooge here?”

Gyro sighed as loudly as possible before turning around to point in her face. “ Why would Mr. McDuck be here? This is a scientific laboratory, not a bin filled with coins.”

He realized briefly after speaking that this woman was familiar - familiar, as in, he’d met her just a few months ago for him and many many decades ago for her. Considering the recent controversies regarding unsanctioned time travel, Gyro started to sweat.

“Huh.” Goldie eyed him carefully. “You look familiar, too.”

“That’s not possible,” he said quickly. “I’ve never-”

“Gearloose, right? Any relation to Ratchet?”

He paused. “Uh...my grandfather?”

Goldie smacked him on his back. “I knew it! You’re his spitting image, you know that?” She laughed and continued to look around the room on the off chance that Scrooge was purposefully hiding from her. Why would he be? Who knows. Scrooge was a mystery sometimes. “Damn, I guess I owe Scroogey some money.”

“Why’s that?” Fenton asked, coming closer when he determined the intruder wasn’t a danger to the lab.

“Well, I bet Ratchet would die a virgin. Seems I lost.”

Fenton blushed and Gyro grumbled, turning back to his work, which Goldie just realized was also quite a bit familiar.

“Hey, I know this robot, too. This whole lab is turning into a trip down memory lane.”

“Hi! I’m Boyd!”

“Yes, I remember that,” she said with her eyes on the exit. “I’m guessing you’re not determined to kill anymore?”

Gyro glared at her and Boyd just clapped a hand to his cheek, producing a metal clang. “Aw geez, no I’m not! I’m sorry if you got hurt at Doofus’ party, Miss O’Gilt.”

Goldie shrugged and looked back at Fenton, who almost looked like he had a light bulb over his head. Or, well, actually. He did have a light bulb over his head. And then it jumped down onto his shoulder.

“O'Gilt! As in... Goldie O’Gilt?!”

“The one and only.”

She didn’t react as the light bulb jumped from him to her and then from her to the grumpy scientist behind her. She started to walk towards the door when she decided she’d made a mistake in coming here.

“You’re Mr. McDuck’s longtime, ah, paramour, one might say?” Fenton asked as he followed.

“One might.” She had to admit that it was interesting to know how Scrooge described her to his coworkers, but something told her that he’d never called her that.

“Then, from what I’ve read, you’re well over 100 years old, and I have never had the opportunity to ask Mr. McDuck about that, but I’m deeply fascinated!”

He started rambling, following Goldie the entire way to the elevator, and even stepping inside the elevator with her. She frowned deeply at this fact, and then there was the giant stone horse thing with Scrooge’s head clopping its way towards them that she very much wanted to get away from.

The talkative guy didn’t seem frightened by it, though - in fact, he waved at it as he continued to rant about chronological physics or whatever the hell was happening.

Not wanting to deal with this anymore, Goldie took this opportunity to grab Fenton back the back of his shirt and toss him towards the statue thing - repeatedly pressing the Close Door button on the elevator as fast as possible.

Fenton just squeaked and Manny caught him without a problem. “Hm...I guess I’ll have to save my questions for next time!”

Gyro barked at him from the other side of the lab. “There won’t be a next time! This lab needs to be more secure!”

Goldie breathed out a sigh of relief as the elevator dinged and she was back to being surrounded by no one and nobody. The Bin was still mostly empty and she was very happy with that. Though now she’d have to make her way over to the manor - where she was more likely to run into Bentina. After their last interaction, she knew it wouldn’t go well and didn’t want to deal with it. She’d just have to do her best to avoid the kitchen.

She headed out the front door, but on spotting a security camera, Goldie smirked and looked around for something to take. She spotted a few umbrellas sitting in a holder by the door, and shrugged. Something was better than nothing. Plus, it was getting kind of cloudy out there. So she grabbed the nicest looking one and stepped outside.

The clouds didn’t seem as thick once she left the building, but whatever. The umbrella was going to be hers either way. And now she had an annoying journey to the manor - normally she’d find a faster way over there, but the streets were pretty empty and she didn’t have any of her fancier gear on-hand.

So: walking it was.

Her knees started to hurt after only a minute. The road she was on was not made for feet, it was made for wheels! Why didn’t Gearloose or Cabrera or Quackfaster have a car she could steal? Were they all commuters? Did Scrooge pay any of his employees well enough to afford a car?

Just as all these complaints were charging through her brain, Goldie was cut off by the sudden sight of a familiar limo coming up towards her. She couldn’t contain the big smile on her face as she stepped in front of it - bringing the car to a halt.

She brushed invisible dirt off her pants and posed - leaning gracefully on the umbrella - in anticipation of Scrooge coming out to greet her.

Instead, a tall, muscular man stepped out of the driver’s seat and rushed towards her.

“Whoa! I almost hit you!���

Goldie sighed and stood up straight. “Is Scrooge with you?”

“Huh? No, he-” Launchpad pouted as he looked down at her, clearly dealing with the gears in his head turning a little faster than usual as they deciphered the data in front of him. “Oh, man! You're Mrs. McDuck!”

“Mrs....” Goldie looked like she’d bitten into a lemon. “I’m not -”

“I was just on my way to visit Fenton, Mrs. McD! But I could take you back to the manor instead, if you want!” He took off his hat and held it to his chest, looking a little nervous. “Please don’t be mad I almost hit you. It wasn’t that bad!”

“You didn’t-! I’m not…” Goldie was so confused by his assumptions that she didn’t even know where to start. But...a good con always knew where the benefits began. “...alright. Sure. Fine. Mrs. McDuck won’t say anything to Scrooge if you drive me back to the manor and not say a word about this to anyone. Does that work for you?”

“Oh, yes ma’am!” Launchpad quickly stepped back and opened up the back door for her so she could slide in. He closed the door on her foot and she scowled - leading to another slew of apologies before he closed the door for real.

She sighed and looked out the car window, feeling like she’d lost her touch. Usually she just knew where Scrooge was. Right away, she was always able to find him. And this was going to be one of those days where she ran around like a chicken without its head.

Launchpad was humming along to a tune on the radio, and Goldie felt the urge to have him change it to something more her style. But she wasn’t here to put on a show. She needed to find something else to focus on.

“Who told you to call me Mrs. McDuck?”

The redhead lowered the radio volume and looked at her in the mirror. “What do you mean?”

“I mean…” She shuffled a bit in her seat. “Did Scrooge tell you to call me that?”

There was quiet in the car for a minute as Launchpad seemed to be thinking about her question. She was ready to tell him to forget it when he finally spoke up again.

“I don’t remember! But I don’t think so,” he said with a nod. “Did I do something wrong? Do you still use your maiden name? Or should I call you something else?”

Goldie didn’t respond to that as she looked down at the seat next to her and noticed a stray white feather. She reached down and picked it up, realizing immediately that it was Scrooge’s. A hint of an embarrassed blush came to her cheeks as she tossed the feather back down - being able to recognize the smell of Scrooge on a single feather was ridiculous.

“No,” she finally said, deciding that the unfamiliar warmth spreading through her chest was kind of...nice. “That’s fine.”

[nocturnal-jeon]

𝙶𝚛𝚘𝚌𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚂𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝙳𝚒𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚜 ➛ 𝚍𝚊𝚍!𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚓𝚘𝚘𝚗

okay when i saw this i had to write this! thanks for being the first request i fulfill after being gone for so long!

@springkoo​

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Grocery shopping was something you always wanted to do alone. Scratch that, it was something you needed to do alone. As Ha-joon grew each day, he would demand more food but also make much larger messes with it. At some points, you knew he wasn’t even hungry; all he wanted to do was make a mess with expensive groceries. 

You assumed that you would require Namjoon’s assistance a lot more when Ha-joon was a lot smaller, but now that he was big enough to stand on his own and crawl insanely fast, you found it hard to keep up with the little human. 

You had gotten better at balancing taking care of Ha-joon and doing your schoolwork for college, but there were times where something had to get sacrificed and you could never let it be Ha-joon. 

To be a good girlfriend, you cooked your husband a lot of food. He would send texts and videos of the boys confiscating the food as Namjoon wasn’t the only one cooped up in the studio or practice room. This sent your heart into shambles. Yes, you wanted Namjoon to eat, but seeing the other boys so hungry made you realize no one is cooking food for them. 

Cup noodle wasn’t cutting it. 

You would set Ha-joon to nap and rush to the kitchen, making large batches of food and putting them in seven containers. You would even write them little notes of encouragement. You would drop them off once Ha-joon was awake. It was always a heartwarming sight to see the boys surround Ha-joon and play with him. Sometimes it would just be Namjoon, or it would only be Yoongi and Taehyung. Whoever wasn’t busy. 

Tired and exhausted at the end of the night, you would finally go downstairs to find food for yourself, only to find out you had run out of food and had to eat ramen. 

You figured that since Namjoon’s day off was the next day, you could go grocery shopping while he watched Ha-joon, but Namjoon insisted on coming to pick out snacks. So, as you pushed the cart with a bubbly and wide-eyed Ha-joon, you eyed your list and went down each aisle. Namjoon followed behind but grew a bit tired with going down any aisle that wasn’t the snack aisle. 

“Hey, I’m just gonna go over to the snack aisle and get my stuff then come back,” Namjoon said to you as you were deep in thought. You looked up at him and nodded as you placed a few boxes of pasta into the cart. 

Just as Namjoon turned to go, Ha-joon began whining and threw his pacifier down in an angry fit at being left behind. You looked down at Ha-joon with a gentle frown as you bent down to pick up the pacifier and drop it into your purse to be cleaned later.��

“Do you wanna adventure with daddy?” Namjoon said in a slightly higher pitched voice as he bent his knees and gazed at his son. Ha-joon nodded, face satisfied, as he reached out to his dad. Namjoon lifted the little boy out of the seat and sat him on his shoulders. You watched the two and chuckled. 

“Don’t cause any trouble,” you warned, looking mainly at Namjoon, who always seemed to lose his maturity when left alone with his son. 

“We’ll try,” Namjoon said with a grin as he turned and left the aisle, Ha-joon looking around. Shaking your head, you continued down the aisle, crossing off each item after placing it into your cart.  Meanwhile, Namjoon explored more than the snack aisle and brought his son to the toy aisle, asking him to pick out toys as if Ha-joon didn’t have enough. The baby would point to things and look back at Namjoon expectantly. Namjoon’s large hands held onto the baby’s chunky little legs, so he couldn’t really grab the toys. 

He would just have to wait and try to convince you. 

You left one aisle and began moving towards the sauces at the back of the store when you saw workers with mops and paper towels moving down the aisle you were about to go down. You followed after, curious, but that curiosity was gone as your mouth dropped. There Namjoon stood, looking guilty while Ha-joon looked unfazed. 

A large glass jar of tomato sauce, usually at the top of the row so children couldn’t get to it, had failed and shattered, spilling the sauce all over the tiled floor. 

“I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry,” Namjoon kept repeating to the workers as he tried to grab some paper towels and help them while trying to hold onto Ha-joon’s legs. 

“it’s fine, sir, really. Accidents happen,” the employees assured with gentle smiles as they cleaned the mess. Namjoon looked up and saw you standing at the end of the aisle with your hands on your hips as you stared your boyfriend down. He approached you slowly, swallowing hard. 

“Ha-joon kept grabbing stuff and he just pushed it off the top,” Namjoon said as he took Ha-joon down from his neck and held him away from his chest. Both Namjoon and your son had tomato sauce all over them as it had splashed up when it hit the floor. You stared at your boys for a few seconds, still trying to take things in. 

You grabbed Ha-joon and sat him back in the cart. The toddler was wiping his stubby fingers all over his arms and sticking them in his mouth to taste the sauce. At least he was having a good time. 

“Namjoon, you really passed the clumsy gene onto our son. It’s like you want me to cry,” you slightly joked, looking your boyfriend up and down as tomato sauce stained his jeans and covered his bare arms as small dollops of sauce littered his face. He stared at you for a moment before giggling softly. 

“I look ridiculous, don’t I?” he said, looking down at his legs. You couldn’t help but smirk. Reaching your hand out, you wiped sauce from his cheek and stuck your index finger into your mouth. “At least the sauce tastes good,” you said. 

“Now go grab a jar so we can pay for it and I don’t have to feel any worse.” 

Namjoon nodded and went to grab a jar, placing it in the cart. Namjoon guiltily walked behind you as you finished up your grocery shopping, trying your best to ignore the fact that everyone you passed stared at your family like you were a bunch of circus clowns. 

You had gotten everything on your list and began to move towards the registers when Namjoon cleared his throat.

“This might be a bad time to mention this but Ha-joon really wants this one truck set in the toy aisle.” Your eyebrows furrowed as you looked between Ha-joon and your boyfriend. 

You opened your mouth to say something but stopped and closed it again. 

“You-” you stuttered, sighing at Namjoon. 

“You two are going to be the death of me,” you whined, pushing the cart toward the toy aisle even though you didn’t feel like rewarding either of your boys. But as you pushed, Ha-joon smiled at you as if he didn’t just cause so much trouble. 

“Which one?” you asked as you looked at Namjoon, hands on your hips. He moved over to the set that Ha-joon wanted and put it in the cart as Ha-joon practically tried to break his back so he could turn to look at it as excited sounds left his lips. 

“Okay, now we’re done,” you said as you turned the cart around and headed to the cash register. 

“Wait, we didn’t get my snacks yet,” Namjoon said. You stopped dead in your tracks and turned to stare at Namjoon. He stared back at you, knowing you were beyond done with your boys. 

Pushing the cart silently, you went over to the snack aisle and watched with your hands on your hips as Namjoon put various snacks in the cart. 

“You make me feel like I did something wrong when you stand like that,” he commented as he looked up at you. You scoffed. “Really, tomato man?” you said. “You feel like you did something wrong?”

He swallowed hard. 

“I’m sorry,” he whined, moving over to you and linking his large hand with yours. You wanted to stay mad for as long as possible because you didn’t want to hurt your pride, but as Ha-joon sat in the cart with tomato sauce all over him and Namjoon stood with tomato sauce in his blonde hair, you broke into laughter, surprising the both of them. 

Ha-joon laughed when anyone laughed, so his little voice merged with yours as you put your hands on your knees and just laughed, straight from the belly. 

“What am I going to do with you guys?” you said with a smile as you stood back up, looking at Namjoon. He smirked. 

“Okay, now, really, let’s go. The Kims have caused enough mayhem in this store,” you said as you pushed the cart to the register, a chuckling Namjoon following after you. 

You paid for the groceries and held Ha-joon as Namjoon carried the bags to the car. “Don’t touch anything when we get home. You both are getting in the bath,” you ordered as your face scrunched up in disgust as Ha-joon’s tomato covered fingers touched all over your face as you put him in his car seat. 

Once you got home, you told Namjoon to take Ha-joon inside and start a bath immediately while you brought the groceries in and put them away. Once you got upstairs to the bathroom, your mood couldn’t help but lighten when you saw Namjoon playing with his son in the tub. 

“Making music is your thing. Grocery shopping is mine. Let’s keep it that way,” you said with a chuckle as you bent down to kiss Namjoon’s cheek. “Deal,” he said as he looked at you with so much love and adoration in his eyes.