#and um. he showed up right when i was looting the house like two down from mine. and i sat in a bedroom upstairs waiting for him to leave

[girlwiththegreenhat]

so anyway the helicopters can see you Through the windows

[glitteryhellhole]

alright lets do this

here we go

Title: The Tent Fandom: Z nation Pairing: 10K x female reader Word count: approx 3k Rating: 18 Description: fluffy smut with awkward cinnamon roll 10K

A gas station. A real life, untouched gas station. Apart from the bloody handprints smeared on the concrete walls.

It didn't take long to sweep and secure the area, then fill up the truck and the reserve cannisters. Afterwards Warren gestured with her gun to the convenience store. “Look for anything useful.”

The place had been untouched since day one. Mummified hot dogs still sitting on a rack. The register hanging open- perhaps in the beginning some people had looted cash, but it didn't take long to realise money didn't mean anything anymore.

You shoved bottles of water and packets of candy into your rucksack before following Addy's gaze to the toiletries shelf. Pads and tampons, little travel-sized bodywashes, an actual toothbrush.

“It's a whole new kind of mercy,” she whistled.

You picked up the first aid kit and the two crushed boxes of painkillers, turning to ask Doc if they'd be any good- and found him and Murphy kneeling on the counter, pulling away the plastic panel which guarded the cigarettes.

Priorities, huh.

Loaded up, you looked around you. Warren was on watch so 10K had let his guard down for once and was poking at the faded magazines. You saw his pink lips move as he mouthed the titles to himself. Something familiar caught his eye, probably the one with guns all over, and he reached up- and the whole top shelf came tumbling down. Suddenly 10K was surrounded by glossy double-page spreads of unnaturally bronzed and perky breasts and butts.

He froze like an animal in a trap.

“Found what you're looking for?” Doc's voice was loud and his arms were cradling an impressive quantity of alcohol. “There's a lot of generic lesbians, over forties, asian fetish, but for a beginner I'd recommend-”

The rest of his sentence was drowned out by a crash as 10K backed rapidly out of the shop, cheeks ablaze, taking down a stand of air fresheners and sending sunglasses skittering across the floor in every direction.

The rest of you laughed, for the first time in a while. Back in the truck and passing round bags of only-slightly-stale chips, you all agreed that the gas station was your best find in quite some time.

Except perhaps for the tent.

A little way back, a stranded family had been incredibly grateful for a tow out of the ditch, and had gifted you their spare tent. No ordinary camping gear, this thing was foil-lined and had a built in waterproof, cushioned underlayer. On an especially hot night you'd probably want it to yourself but the rest of the time it comfortably housed two people, keeping in the heat. You'd been taking turns each night, with priority to the injured, meaning that every morning there was at least one person who was fully rested and recharged. Ideal when every day was a battle for survival.

Of course, there was one other advantage to the tent. Privacy. Human needs didn't really get talked about in this un-human world, and whatever got overheard in the night would also go unspoken.

It was nearing dusk and you were pulling over to make camp. “Who's turn in the tent?” Murphy called out as he threw himself down on the ground. “Dibs.”

Warren, who was unloading a heavy bag, gave him a kick in the side. “Get up and help. I don't think 10K's had a turn yet.”

“Neither's she.” He nodded at you.

“Settled then.”

Murphy sniggered.

Since there was plenty of water, there was a rare chance to wash up a bit. Ladies first while the men stood watch with their backs turned, and then vice versa. Nowhere near to having a hot shower in privacy, but it was something. You noticed that 10K didn't bother putting his shirt back on afterwards as he squatted by the fire cleaning his weapons, a cigarette dangling from his mouth.

How could somebody so skinny be so strong? Must be the result of life outdoors.

He raised an eyebrow and you realised you were staring. Oops.

“Here.” Somebody passed you a can of cheap beer that had come from the store along with the snacks and cigarettes. It was almost like being at a camp-out. The beer was gross but it gave you a nice warm feeling in your chest, and the idea of lying down somewhere soft started to seem quite appealing, so you said your goodnights and retreated into the tent.

You weren't sure how long it was until you were joined, perhaps you'd started to drift off- the sound of the zip jolted you back to your senses as 10K flopped unceremoniously into the tent, stretching out next to you. “Beer makes shoelaces hard.” He complained.

You giggled and sat up to help. “When was the last time you slept without shoes on?”

“Probably before my voice broke.” He scratched his head while watching you remove his boots and then said, “I'm not good at talking, especially to girls, but you don't scare me.”

“Thanks for the compliment, I think?” You laid back down, closing your eyes and pulling your blanket over you. There was silence for a minute but it was oddly comfortable, the security of a warm person breathing next to you.

“What was your first word?” You asked into the silence. “I bet it was gun.”

“Actually it was primrose.”

“Huh?”

“My momma's favourite flower.” He rolled over onto his stomach, closing the gap between you, and rested his cheek on his folded arms. “I was six. Doctor said I wasn't learning but I was paying attention to everything. She used to take me to the library in town to look at all sorts of books, that where we learned to sign.”

You couldn't help but ask. “When did she...?”

“When I was nine. Pops wanted me to try and be a normal kid but once she'd gone he didn't want anything to do with the rest of the world and stopped sending me to school.”

“I'm sorry.”

“It's ok.” He wriggled a little to get more comfortable. “Can you talk for a bit now?”

So you talked about your own parents, and your hometown, and it surely wasn't very interesting but 10K watched you intently as he sobered up, studying your face, and you hoped you weren't blushing. After a while you came to a natural conclusion in your story and realised that his fingers were twitching, as though he were nervous.

What's up?” you asked softly.

He blinked slowly. “Ain't always easy to tell when you're supposed to say stuff and when you're not.”

Unsure what to expect, you gave him an encouraging nod.

“Can I... touch your hair?”

Your heart started to beat a little fast and you nodded again. 10K's fingers reached out timidly to feel you hair, twisting strands and brushing them away from your face.

You hadn't felt human touch in so long, and you couldn't help but rest your head on his arm as he stroked. The pair of you seemed to breathe in unison. It was almost peaceful.

Almost. Apart from the little sparks of electricity that seemed to fizzle into life where your skin touched his.

Could he feel it too? It didn't seem so. There he was growing more and more serene, while you were   warming up in a way that had nothing to do with the insulated tent.

“Um...” You fidgeted awkwardly, trying to choose the right words. “10K? You know why they were giggling right?”

“Uh-huh.” His eyes were closed. “People do stuff in the tent. Its pretty obviously I've never... y'know.”

“Does it bother you?”

“A bit, but its not like I can go meet a girl and ask her Pops if I can take her to the barn dance.”

You couldn't help but laugh a little. “I mean the teasing.”

“Oh.” He blushed slightly as he opened his eyes to look at you. “I get why, you're near my age and you're pretty. Any guy would be lucky to date you.”

Oh indeed. Maybe he did feel it then.

“You could...” You bit your lip and steeled yourself. “You could pretend that you were.”

He sat bolt upright, making you jump, and a wide grin spread across his face. “I could ask you on a picnic, at my favourite place in the woods.” His words were tumbling out fast from nervous excitement. “Make nice bread, Mom's special recipe with the dried fruit. And we could talk like we did earlier and I could pick you flowers and then I could kiss you.”

His lips were clumsy as they first met yours, but eager, and didn't take long to find a groove. You sighed and leaned in, one hand reaching up into his hair, and-

A single gunshot cracked through the air.

In an instant 10K was lurching for the tent entrance where his gun was propped. You reached for your shoes, panic rising in your chest.

“False alarm.” Doc's voice came from outside. “Nothing to worry about. Hey, you okay in there kid? Need me to give ya a quick pep talk on anything?”

“I'm good.” He zipped the flap back up then turned back to you. “Actually do you think maybe I should? I don't really know what to do.”

You couldn't help but laugh again. He was way too innocent for someone so good-looking.

You put and hand on his chest, feeling his heartbeat.  “Just do what feels natural.”

“Okay.” He gave you another wide grin, showing those adorably crooked teeth, and then practically launched himself at you, so you landed on your back and he was on top of you, lips moulding to the shape of yours. You gasped for air and 10K made an apologetic sound without pausing the kiss, propping himself up on one elbow so that you could breathe.

His hand rested on your stomach, fingers still for a moment before balling up your shirt and gently navigating the exposed skin. Tentative. Like soothing a spooked animal.

You reached your hand up to touch his shoulders, feeling hard muscle under surprisingly soft skin. Tracing his collarbones and around the back of his neck. He shivered and broke the kiss, and you saw his tongue dart out to wet his lips.

“Maybe I could take your shirt off too.” He mumbled. In answer you sat up and held your arms above your head. 10K pulled your shirt over your head- sending the little lamp tied to the tent roof swinging- then looked confused as his thumb hooked into the shoulder strap of your sports bra. You kind of wished you'd been wearing something nicer for this occasion, but you'd dressed for practicality before hitting the road.

“Here. Let me.” You wriggled out of the bra, trying not to elbow him in the process.

“Wowee.” 10K let out a whistle. “You look even better without clothes on. Why would anyone want to look at random pictures?”

It seemed like he could have sat there and stared forever, but you didn't have forever, and so you pulled him in to kiss again. He trailed his lips across your face and on to your neck, one arm supporting you from behind and the other hand landing on your chest, squeezing experimentally.

“Not so hard,” you gasped.

“Sorry. They're squishier than I expected.” He let out a humming noise into the crook of your neck as his fingers found a hard nipple and brushed back and forth.

You dipped your head down too, lightly touching your teeth to his throat. A low growl escaped and he pushed you back down, pressing his body close to yours, and you could feel his eager hardness against your hip.

10K tried the same move, nipping at the skin under your ear. His breathing was very shallow and rapid as he licked and sucked experimentally, moving down over your breasts.

“You taste good. But not in a zombie way.”

Your hands rested on his hips, fingers splaying out to softly squeeze his ass and then dipping below the loose waistband.

“Oh, wait.” He rolled off you to shed a pile of concealed knives and the little sharp discs that he used in the sling shot.

“What else are you hiding down there?” You smirked. For a moment he turned beetroot red and covered his crotch with his hands, but then met your smile with one of his own.

“Just means I like you and I like this.” He shrugged. “Do you-”

“Mmhmm.” You reached out to ease his trouser buttons undone, fumbling slightly, but you weren't nervous. It just felt right with him. “I like you. And I like this.”

He groaned softly as the restriction on his hardness eased and grabbed you for another kiss, this time hungry and slightly sloppy. 10K's fingers found the fastening of your own jeans and made quick work, tugging them down to your knees. Then he paused for a moment, putting a finger to your lips.

There was no noise from outside.

“We're good.” With a bit of awkward shuffling, you both shed your trousers and then looked at each other.

“We probably shouldn't go all the way,” you said almost reluctantly. “No protection and all that. But there's still stuff-”

“Anything.” 10K blurted out without a second's pause. “Everything. I'll do whatever you want. But not what you don't want.” His tongue darted out to wet his lips again as he stared at you earnestly.

You felt a shiver travel down your spine. Nobody had ever looked at you quite like that before. Not just lust but something deeper, as though he was seeing through your skin and right inside you.

“Come here,” he whispered huskily, grabbing your waist and pulling you onto his lap. You sighed into the kiss and slowly moved your hips, letting your centre rub against his as you straddled him, tangling fingers in his messy hair.

10K moaned something that sounded like “shucks” and you couldn't help but snort. What would it take to make him swear? You dug your nails in a little, catching his lip between your teeth.

“Want to touch you.” He moaned, gripping your hips. “Want you to touch me.”

You trailed your hand from his cheek all the way down to cup the pronounced bulge in his boxers and his eyes rolled back in his skull, but then he visibly shook himself and swatted your hand away. “Ladies first.” The hand slid a little clumsily down into your knickers.

You closed your eyes and rested your forehead against 10K's, feeling how hot his skin was. His curious fingertips traced your labia and in between.

“It's wet.” He sounded surpised, and brought a thumb to his mouth to taste.

“That's a good thing.” You felt a little self-conscious as you explained, watching him suck his thumb. “It means I'm, you know, turned on.”

“Show me how to make it feel good,” he murmured, lifting you off his lap and laying you back down before tugging your knickers all the way down and spreading your legs.

You took his hand in yours and guided him, showing him your clit. His marksman fingertips quickly picked it up and he kissed you again as he touched you. “Am I doing it right?”

“Yeah you're- oh, yeah thats good.” Your voice was high-pitched and breathy. 10K made a satisfied “hmph” and nuzzled into your neck. He smelled of safety. Less dirt and blood than usual, traces of soap, whatever he was using for hair gel, engine oil. Sweat but not in the just-been-running-and-fighting way, in the musky hormonal way.

The feeling swelling inside you was something you hadn't experienced, hadn't even thought about, in a long time. But here and now it was growing, consuming, and you couldn't imagine anything other than his touch, his hot breath on your cheek.

“Hey.” 10K's voice was husky again. “You need something else?”

You became aware that your hips were twitching. “A bit faster maybe?”

A moan escaped your lips as he obliged, and 10K grinned. “That's hot.” Then he cocked his head to one side, raising his eyebrows. “I assume girls can- y'know-”

“It looks a bit different but yes.” You were gasping now as you spoke, chest rising and falling.

“Do it for me.” He murmured, watching you as though hypnotised and biting his lip. His words and his gaze loosened the coiled spring that was weighing down your abdomen and the endorphins came rushing as you climaxed.

“Shh.” He pressed his mouth to yours and swallowed your moan, pressing his fingers harder as you moved beneath him until it became almost too much. “Do you want them to hear us?”

You shook your head, trying to control your breathing.

“Maybe you do.” He raised an eyebrow again as his fingers finally slowed to a halt. “I kinda do. So they all know what I just did to you.”

“Do you want your turn or not?”

That shut him up. He glanced down and you followed his gaze. He was still very much erect, and there was now a distinct wet patch where he'd leaked a little in excitement.

You pushed 10K onto his back and settled yourself next to him. “Let me know if something's not ok,” you told him. “I won't do anything you don't want.”

He nodded and closed his eyes. He flinched a little as you pulled his boxers down but then his face relaxed and his lips parted as you touched him.

“Have you done this to yourself?” You asked. “So you know what you like.”

He nodded, looking somewhat bashful. “A few times. But this is different. Better.”

It was your turn to grin as your fingers circled his erection and found a rhythm. 10K's head tilted back and the smallest of high-pitched noises escaped his open mouth. You lowered your lips to his exposed neck and sucked gently at the skin. There was a red mark when you pulled away.

“Mmmph.” He rasped through gritted teeth. “Again.”

“It'll leave a bruise.”

“Don't care.”

You began to create a trail of little hickeys down his throat and across his collarbones as you continued to stroke, and his tiny whimpers grew more frequent. You knew it wouldn't be long.

10K was holding onto you tightly, nails digging in, droplets of sweat visible on his forehead. “I think I'm gonna- ahh....” He seemed to lose the ability to speak as you attacked his neck again, eyes rolling back. A few moments later, his hips bucked and you could feel hot sticky warmth coat your fingers.

“Fuuuuuuuuuuck.”

So he did swear after all.

You kissed him again, and then looked down. “Um, got anything to clean up with?”

Still breathing heavily, 10K sat up and reached for his trousers, pulling a bandana out of one of the many pockets. “It's my least favourite. I'll burn it.”

Like the gentleman he'd been raised to be, he wiped your hand off first before tending to himself, then tossed the soiled cloth out of the way and pulled you close. You rested your head on his chest. You'd heard the term 'afterglow' but never really thought that it was a thing; it apparently was. The chemicals your brain was releasing and the protective hold of his arms made you want to laugh, and cry, and drift off to sleep, and run a mile, all at once.

Just for a moment, there was no apocalypse. There was only you and him and the little lamp above your heads.

It was 10K who broke the spell. “I need to pee.” he said apologetically. “Like, real bad.”

You laughed at the face he was pulling and threw his trousers at him. 10K slithered with some difficulty into them, kicking the side of the tent, and then stumbled outside.

You realised how cold it was now and reached for your own clothes. As footsteps indicated 10K's return, you could have sworn you heard the sound of a high-five.

“What was that?” You demanded as he re-entered the tent.

“Never mind.” He grabbed the blanket and laid it over you.”I  want to do that again. But we should probably get some sleep.”

“The whole point of the tent is to get proper rest right?” You scooted closer as he laid down, offering the blanket, but he refused, tucking it round you and then wrapping his arms round too so you were tightly cocooned against his side.

“Yeah. Sure.”

>>>>>Thanks for reading! This is the first fanfic i’ve done in literally years. Open to feedback and even perhaps requests :) PS i am v english so I apologise to any Americans insulted by my attempts at your words

[teawaffles]

The Adventures of John: Chapter 4, Part 1

Setting off from Piccadilly Circus, Laura walked through Trafalgar Square, then headed down the Strand and Fleet Street. Without looking left nor right, she kept moving eastward across London.

Laura seemed to have been deeply affected by something; as they tailed her from behind, Sherlock let out a small laugh.

“Ha, she is really is a kid after all. Heading straight to her destination like a fool after sensing the slightest bit of danger. And not even considering the risk of being followed like this.”

John, who was walking beside him, spoke up.

“The way you’re talking, it sounds like you know where she’s going.”

“Of course. The address Wiggins said earlier — something’s hidden there. The stray dog sneaking into the building was just an outright lie, yet she turned pale upon hearing it.”

Though John understood what had happened earlier, Sherlock’s words completely eluded his grasp.

“What on earth do you mean, Sherlock?”

At his partner's baffled expression, the detective cracked an exuberant grin. Then, while keeping up the pace, he began to explain in a low voice.

“Well then, let’s start pulling back the curtain. In order to smoke out this shadowy ring of thieves, I used Wiggins and his friends to lay a trap.”

“The Irregulars?”

“Yeah. I asked them to search the slums; but at the same time, I also instructed them to spread a certain piece of information — that the stolen goods from the arrested thieves were being kept at our apartment. As such, there was a chance the other thieves would pay us a visit to retrieve the items.”

John thought back to the jewellery sitting on the sideboard. That had looked pointless at first, but in fact, there’d been a good reason why they were there.

“To be honest, it was a gamble — even I thought there was only a fifty-fifty chance it’d work, but it was a resounding success.”

Sherlock looked at the figure of the girl up ahead, and John was incredulous. At that moment, the pair had just walked past the facade of St Paul’s Cathedral.

“You’re talking about Laura? You mean, that child is one of those thieves from the slums?”

“Don’t underestimate her just because she’s a child. However, judging from how nervous she’s been, I’d say she isn’t one of the thieves exactly; I get the feeling that she’s been forced to follow their orders.”

Hearing that, John thought back to the scene at the cafe.

When he asked Laura if she’d been hiding anything, she had frantically denied it. Placing that reaction in the perspective that she had actually been trying to hide how she was abetting the thieves, it did make sense.

However, John was starting to get confused by all the unexpected revelations, and he fired back doubts of his own.

“Sherlock: to start with, how did you know Laura’s from the underclass? From her appearance, one would think she’s from the middle class.”

“Oi oi, isn’t that obvious? Her fingers were strangely brownish, weren't they? That trait’s often seen in merchants who shell walnuts and sell them on the street.”

“……I see.”

Hearing the detective’s precise analysis, John nodded in admiration. He had first noticed that peculiarity of Laura’s at the cafe, but Sherlock had spotted it right at their first meeting, and seen through her guise straight away.

“Let’s say you’re right. But then, why did Laura disguise herself like that?”

“It’s simple: the thieves knew that I was fairly certain they hailed from the slums, so they wanted her to hide her status just in case. It’s not clear whether she bought those clothes herself, or the thieves stole them — but anyway, that disguise didn’t fool me,” he quipped. “And you should also know that the details — her cuffs, thumbs, nails, and shoelaces — were extremely important and provided a wealth of clues.”

“But even if she is from the underclass, isn’t it at least true that she came by to ask us to search for her dog?”

“That’s a natural question, but I’ll tell you later why that was a lie.”

Putting aside the truth behind her request for the time being, Sherlock continued to explain his reasoning.

“Getting back to the topic: right when I dangled the bait, that kid showed up. But at that point in time, she hadn’t come to take the stolen items by force. Together with Miss Hudson, we were three adults against a child — the difference in physical strength was obvious. As such, our opponents definitely had another plan up their sleeve.”

“A plan…… Do you mean the search for the dog?”

“Precisely. In all likelihood, it carried three meanings.”

Sherlock raised three fingers.

“First: a simple reconnaissance.”

Hearing that, John agreed right away.

“They had to confirm if it was really you looking after the stolen items, rather than the Yard; so Laura visited us on the pretext of making a request.”

“Correct. It looks like you’re starting to get it. Then, reason two: under the guise of having us search for her dog, she wanted to make us both leave the flat.”

“……Ah.”

John finally understood what Sherlock had meant earlier — and he shuddered.

“If we’d left the apartment with her, then only Miss Hudson — a lady — would’ve remained behind……”

“The thieves were probably banking on that opportunity to break into the flat. Although we’d still only be three people even if we stayed behind, it’d be smoother if there were only one woman in the house. Hence, their ruse to have us ‘search for her dog’ was genius. It’s a reasonable request, coming from a child; moreover, it’s not something on a level where you’d go to the police, so it only feels natural for her to approach a detective about it.”

“These thieves sure have a horrible way of thinking, huh……. But as I said before, these are all premised on the assumption that Laura’s request was a lie: they’re still just hypotheses.”

“And as I said, I have definite proof that it’s a lie,” Sherlock replied. “But I’ll tell you about it later……. In the end, the thieves weren’t able to achieve the two goals I mentioned. And that’s because I anticipated their motives, and turned down the request. As insurance in the event of this scenario, Laura’s visit also carried a third meaning…… Sorry to break it off halfway, but we’re almost there.”

Just as Sherlock was about to reveal the final answer, it seemed Laura was nearing her destination.

She had arrived at a set of disused, run-down warehouses along the bank of the Thames, near the Tower of London. [1] The girl looked all around her carefully, then headed deep into the silent industrial district.

Then, she stopped before an abandoned warehouse, and stood there in a daze. Apparently, some kind of excessive shock had made her mind go blank. And upon seeing it, John — who had yet to know the full picture — was also shaken.

Before the girl’s eyes, in the open space before the warehouse—— stood dozens of people, their dirty clothes lending them the appearances of vagrants. Among the group were several hooded figures, whose faces couldn’t be clearly distinguished.

Upon seeing Laura, the vagrants all moved toward her in unison. Sensing the gaze of the crowd on her, she shrank and took a step back.

“……U-Um, why is everyone here? I thought we weren’t supposed to gather here in large numbers, since the bobbies would get suspicious……”

John was presently concealed somewhere behind the girl. From the way she had spoken, it was apparent that the crowd of people was familiar to her. Furthermore, at the very least, she had done something that would draw the attention of the Yard.

At Laura’s question, a middle-aged man stepped forward from the group. And upon seeing his eyes, John felt a glimmer of recognition.

“That’s what I wanted to ask you. What the hell was that?”

The man’s tone was one of formidable menace, and Laura shrank further and further away.

“W-What’re you talking about……?”

At that vague reply, the man tutted in frustration.

“……Then I’ll explain it to you. In the evening, I came all the way here to hide the cash we recovered from that softhearted chap.”

The man stared at the warehouse behind him, as if glaring at it, then returned his gaze to Laura.

“Then when I went into town, I heard some brats saying that there were stray dogs making mischief near these warehouses. I got curious and came back. But for some reason, the others also gathered here one after another. And when I asked them, they all gave me the same story about dogs or burglars or something showing up nearby.”

“Stray dogs……”

With a start, Laura spun around. Then Sherlock stepped out of the shadows with a dignified air, and revealed himself before the crowd. John still didn’t fully understand what was going on; but for now, he placed his belongings on the ground, and went to stand beside Sherlock.

“Dr Watson, and Mr Holmes? ……Did you both follow me here?”

Her own mistake finally dawned upon her, and she paled. But in contrast, Sherlock smiled like a child whose mischief had succeeded.

“It’s about time you realised. It seems your horizons are rather narrow: you should pay more attention to what’s behind you next time.”

At his suggestion, all Laura could do was to groan inaudibly. Then, the man who’d been speaking to her spat out a curse.

“This brat, getting completely tricked like that — what useless scum.”

Sherlock’s tone became derisive.

“Oi oi, a good adult shouldn’t talk like that to a kid, y’know. Still, you got the gist of my trick, right? I got the Irregulars to follow some of the vagrants in the parks, and that’s how I identified this place. As for the remaining people I’d investigated, who seemed to be your accomplices — one by one, I made them overhear rumours that all established the idea that this place was under threat. Then, as planned: everyone got antsy and gathered here in one friendly bunch.”

Trembling, Laura asked him a question.

“That boy Wiggins from earlier: was that your doing, Mr Holmes……?”

“Exactly. But as for the rest of these guys, I didn’t think it’d succeed this brilliantly. You all got way too panicked at the smallest sense of danger. But I’ll give you credit for hiding the loot in such an old warehouse; it’s no wonder we couldn’t find them, even after searching the slums down to its corners.”

Sherlock gazed at the warehouse in admiration. Speechless, Laura just stood there, rooted to the spot, and the man gnashed his teeth in frustration.

Standing beside Sherlock, John listened to their conversation while watching the man with the sharp gaze closely. A doubt arose in his mind, and he observed the rest of the crowd standing petrified before the warehouse — when he gasped in surprise.

Among the group, was the old walnut-seller from Regent’s Park.

The other people he’d bought items from, and given money to in order to obtain more information about Laura’s dog — John also recognised their faces in the crowd.

As he stood dazed, Sherlock patted him on the shoulder and revealed the truth.

“Now you know the third meaning from before. In other words, it was as though they were trying to recover their stolen goods — they used sightings of the dog as bait, and worked together to cheat you of your money. It’s a sly trick; and considering the odds of success, just getting it to work the first two or three times would already be a big achievement. But since you’re more of a softy than they anticipated, it seems you gave them nearly every penny you had.”

“…………”

As he recalled, every time he had decided on their next destination, Laura had confirmed it in an excessively loud voice. He himself hadn’t noticed; but in all likelihood, Laura’s accomplices had been in the vicinity, and that’d been a way of communicating their next location so the group could get there ahead of time. The cash the man mentioned at the start probably referred to the large sum that had disappeared from John’s wallet.

At long last, John understood the whole picture. But more than indignation at having been tricked, to have completely fallen for that: he felt ashamed at his own idiocy.

The man before them was now cornered. Even so, he regained his composure and spoke.

“Hold on, Mr Detective. It seems you think we’ve committed theft, but that’s all a misunderstanding.”

Opposite Laura, who was standing with her head drooped, the man launched into an eloquent speech.

“It’s true that we’re all working together. But as for our relation to this place, it’s just a meeting spot in the event of an emergency. Even if you were to search that warehouse and find stolen goods inside, that would just be a coincidence. It’s all just a series of misfortunes: in the end, you have no proof that we’re the thieves.”

He emphasised that it was all a fluke, though his assertion was a little forced in terms of logic. In itself, there was no issue with the group assembling before this abandoned warehouse. Of course, the amount they’d cheated from John had all been freely given by his own hand — as long as he didn’t ask for his money back, it wasn’t as if a crime had been committed.

However, just as Sherlock had declared right before they’d arrived here, he had the ammunition to shoot down that clumsy argument. Languidly, he approached the girl; and without hesitation, he reached into her pocket.

“——Then, what’s this?”

Footnotes:

[1] This seems to be the St Katharine Docks, which are located right beside the Tower of London. They had their heyday in the early 19th century, and so were probably in decline by this point. (A London history blog)

Translator’s notes

Laura’s path across London

Here’s a rough map of her nearly six-kilometre journey:

A: Piccadilly Circus

B: Trafalgar Square

C: The Strand (a street)

D: Fleet Street

E: St Paul’s Cathedral

F: Tower of London

G: St Katharine Docks

[snowdragon4]

Cops and Robbers. A Bbrae AU

As much as Rachel enjoyed her job, she couldn’t help, but feel exhausted coming home at the end of a long day. Maybe it was the fact that she was on her feet all day, thank goodness for whoever invented flats. Still it was stable and fine work, a solid nine to five, giving her enough time to get home to work on her novel. The monotony of her daily routine was broken up when on her way home she noted a healthy handful of police cars driving around her neighborhood.

“Huh? I wonder if Dick could let me know what’s going on?” She of course was referring to her cop neighbor, Dick Grayson, but driving by his house, all the lights were shut off. “Maybe he and Kory are out.” She shrugged it off and parked her car before entering her home.

She moved through the doors of her modest three bedroom home as she usually did. Keys and mail on the table by her door, purse and jacket on a hook, turned on the TV for a bit of background noise and a nice cold beer in the fridge calling her name. She figured she’d make herself dinner, take a hot bath, and settle in for a night of writing.

With the news in the background she went about her nightly routine.

“—citizens of Jump city should be advised that the suspect could be armed and dangerous. For those who are just joining, please be on the lookout for Garfield Mark Logan, who escaped police custody earlier this evening—“

She took a beer from the fridge and removed the cap. “If his parents named him ‘Garfield’ they belong in prison too.” She commented dryly.

“—Garfield is wanted for the murder—“

She had gone to the counter when something had occurred to her. Going back she opened the door to the fridge and noticed something.

She was a creature of habit and structure, bordering on obsessive compulsiveness, but it made sense to keep her world in order at least. She had so much practice in fact that she noticed things out of place, even if it was just a fleeting glance. In this case there was something wrong with her beer. Was she missing one? She went shopping the other day, and only allowed herself and one a day or less, so surely she couldn’t have had more than one.

She counted a few more times, but came to the conclusion that she was, somehow, short one beer.

She took a step back when she felt something crunch beneath her heel. Lifting her foot she saw a pebble and some dirt, something she hadn’t noticed before. Didn’t she just clean the other day? Looking around she noticed more and more dirt leading from her kitchen and to the back door.

A back door that wasn’t locked.

If there was one thing she was absolutely sure about, it was that she ALWAYS locked her doors.

Her blue eyes flitted to the TV, noting the news report about an escaped convict, but surely he wouldn’t have run into a suburban neighborhood. That kind of stuff only happened in movies. Right?

She broke into a run, heading for her front door, but her hand had barely touched the knob when she felt someone wrap their arm around her waist and a hand clap over her mouth. Reacting purely on instinct, she stumped on their foot, eliciting a manly grunt of pain, and elbowed them in the ribs causing them to release her.

Momentarily free, she ran for the back door, telling herself she just had to get next door to Dick and Korys house. Nobody may have been home, but she would have felt safer in a cops home.

She weaved through the kitchen, aware that he was right behind her, but she kept her eyes on the door. She put her hands around the knob, but felt a pair of hands grab her arms and pull her back. She stumbled over something, him possibly, and fell backwards, hitting her head on the counter and collapsing onto the floor unconscious.

—:0:—

Her head was pounding as she slowly came back to consciousness, but when she tried to move her hands, they were stuck, in fact she couldn’t move any part of her body. Regardless of how much pain she was in, her eyes snapped open, finding that she was tied to a chair. Her hands had been pulled behind the chair, rope wrapping around her wrists and to the bars of the chair. Her ankles had been tied to the bottom rung of the chair and rope had been thrown over her lap, waist, and shoulders to keep her tied firmly to the chair back. Moving her head she felt one of her scarves had been stuffed in between her teeth and tied behind her head.

Saying she was in trouble was an understatement.

She wanted to panic, but she forced her rational, obsessive mind to take control. She took a few breaths through her nose to assess her situation. Looking around she was in her bedroom, the curtains drawn and the door closed. She had been tied to one of her kitchen chairs with rope that she kept in her garage that she used when she went camping to enjoy nature and solitude.

Her panic returned.

She had been unconscious, did he…?

She looked at herself, and aside from the rope she was still in the clothes she was in when she got home, white button up shirt and black skirt with flats, and nothing had been removed. Aside from the pain in her head, and the discomfort of the rope, she didn’t feel pain anywhere else.

Her rational mind returned.

So he knocked me out? Tied me up, but didn’t take advantage of me? He’s probably looting my home. But all of her valuables were in her room, were she was alone.

Still, a strange man was in her home, she was tied up and helpless. This wasn’t good.

Red and blue lights flashed outside her window, and a spark of hope lit inside her. Using her whole body, she began pushing the chair towards the window. If she could somehow get the curtain open, maybe someone could see her and possibly rescue her.

It was worth a shot, but not to be.

The door to her room opened and her chair was quickly grabbed and pulled away from the window. She grunted and growled behind her gag, struggling against the tight ropes. Whatever he was going to do, she was going to make it as hard for him as possible.

But she wasn’t expecting this.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry! Please calm down! please!”

She paused. Sorry? Please? She focused on the man, seeing that it wasn’t quite a “man” at all. He was young, twenties maybe, with disheveled blonde hair and a dirty complexion and clothing. His eyes were a piercing green that were pleading, fearful, and remorseful. Her brows narrowed, angry, but curious. What kind of home intruder was this?

He sighed in relief when she settled down. “Thank you.” He stood up and started pacing, his hands running through his blonde locks. “I am so, so, so, so, sorry about this. I didn’t mean for this to happen. Any of this. It's just—ugh!” She involuntarily flinched at his outburst. “Oh! Sorry, sorry, sorry I didn’t mean…” He continued babbling incoherently, that was beginning to grate on her nerves, but looking past him, saw that he had brought in a water bottle. For her maybe?

“Uughmph!” She grunted to get his attention, then motioned her head towards the water bottle.

“Oh! Yeah!” He grabbed it and brought it towards her. “Sorry, I’m just,” he paused, “wait, you're not gonna scream are you?”

She watched him closely, he broke into her home, attacked her, tied her up, and was now helpless and at his mercy.

Yet she wasn’t afraid.

Slowly, she shook her head no. He eyed her for a moment, but slowly came up to slip the gag from her mouth.

She moved her jaw around, sighing with relief, but didn’t scream. “Thank you.” She could see weight being lifted from his shoulders and a small, attractive smile on his lips. “Um, water?”

“Oh yes!” He brought it to her lips and allowed her a small drink. Her eyes closed at the liquid cooling her insides, helping to soothe and calm her down. She finished and he took the bottle away.

“Thank you.” She flexed against the rope. “Now can you untie me?”

The weight returned, and his smile faded into a worried stare. “Um… not yet, but if you don’t scream I’ll keep the gag out.”

Their eyes met, and still she couldn’t find any malice or maliciousness. She didn’t feel threatened, rather this felt like a necessity for him, self preservation, like a cornered animal.

Still she had to keep her guard up.

“Fair enough.”

He sighed again, becoming more relaxed, and he sat on top of her bed, a heavy silence settling between them. “So, um, you’re probably wondering what’s going on?”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m mildly curious.”

He laughed nervously. “Right. Well, um, I’m Gar, and I’m…”

“—on the run from the police?” He looked surprised, “you’re on the news. Everyone is looking for you.”

His eyes dipped with what looked like hurt. “Oh.” Her head tilted in curiosity as he leaned forward to put his head in his hands. “I’m so sorry…”

Now getting annoyed, “You’ve said that already.” She struggled against the ropes again. “Do you mind telling me what you're doing here?”

He lifted his head, wiping away a few tears. “Sor—erm, yes. Well,” he stood up, “I should start from the beginning I guess. So I was dating this girl, Terra, and I was crazy about her, but what she didn’t tell me was that another guy was obsessed with her. Some guy named Slade, I don’t know, but anyways he was stalking her, calling her, following her, all kinds of stuff.”

He slowed down, his voice tightening up. “I, uh, was at work, and when I got home…” his hands came up to his mouth, “she was…”

She couldn’t help but feel pity for him. “I’m sorry.”

He nodded, wiping his tears again. “Thanks. Anyways I called the cops and when they showed up, they arrested ME?”

Her head lifted. “What? Why?”

He shrugged. “I have no idea. They just showed up and slapped the cuffs on me! Do you have any idea what that’s like?”

She waited a beat, wondering if he was serious or just stupid. “No. I have no idea what it’s like for someone to come uninvited to my home and restrain me against my will.”

He chuckled nervously. “Heh. Sorry—I mean. Um… anyways…”

There was silence for a moment or two. “Why did you escape? Why not just go to the station and plead your case?” She asked.

“I did! I mean, I wanted to…but I don’t know.” His hands ran through his hair again. “The cop car they took me in was T-boned, and the next thing I knew I was running for my life.”

She quirked a brow as she came to the conclusion on her own. “You mean you broke into my home by chance?”

He nodded. “It was the only home I saw with the lights off at the time, I picked the lock, and snuck inside. I grabbed a beer and was gonna leave when the heat died down, but then, I heard your neighbors leave so I hid.”

“Then I got home, and the rest is history.” She finished.

“Yeah. I hid as best I could, but when I saw you see the dirt on the ground, I knew I was done.” He motioned to the ropes. “I didn’t mean to do that to you, but I didn’t know what else to do. I just panicked.”

She relaxed a bit. “I see.”

Silence again, this time a bit more uncomfortable. “So, um, what’s your name?”

He shrunk beneath her glare. “You broke into my home, knocked me out, drank my beer, and tied me up. We are not going to have small talk.”

He gulped with another nervous smile. “Cool.”

He clapped his hands on his knees. “So what now?” She asked.

He shrugged. “I’m not sure.”

She pulled against the rope again. “Well if you're open to suggestions.”

“I know, I know, I can untie you and I will, I promise. I just need to think.”

She rolled her eyes. “Well take your time, it’s not like my hands need steady blood flow or anything.” She softened her tone. “But seriously. You need to turn yourself in, if you’re innocent then an investigation will show that.”

He nodded. “I know, I know. I guess I’m just not a fan of being caged or anything.” He stood up. “Just, give me a minute.” He left her alone, giving her a chance to test the ropes again, but they were unyielding. She couldn’t help but feel impressed by his knot work.

After a few minutes of struggling she sat back and relaxed, unable to free herself she had nothing left to do but wait for him to let her go. Hopefully soon since she had lost the feeling in her hands a while ago.

Finally after what felt like ages he returned. “Okay, here’s the plan.” He untied the scarf from her neck. “I’m going to turn myself in, but there’s some things I need to do first, but here’s the bad part. I’m gonna to leave you here.”

She was actually relieved to hear this. He wasn’t dangerous, sure, but that didn’t mean she wanted to be a hostage. “But I’m not gonna untie you either. I’m gonna make a 911 call and tell them about a pretty dark haired woman tied up and get the cops to come and untie you. Sound good?”

Her face was placid as she responded, but ultimately relieved. “Do I have a choice?”

He chuckled. “I guess not. Again, I’m sorry about all this.”

He brought the scarf to her mouth to regag her. “Rachel.”

“Huh?”

“My name. It’s Rachel.”

He smiled. A wide smile that made her stomach flutter. “Rachel. Nice to meet you.”

—:0:—

The door burst open. “Police! Show me your hands!” Rachel flinched at the light shining in her eyes. “Is there anyone else in the house?” She shook her head as the officer came closer once the light was out of her eyes, she saw her neighbor, Dick Grayson remove the gag from her mouth.

“Took you long enough,” she droned, “did you stop for drive through?”

He let out a relieved chuckle, “Don’t you mean, ‘thank you for saving me’?”

“You’re right Dick, how about I give you a big hug… Oh wait.”

He moved behind her and began to undo the ropes. “Did you see who did this to you?”

“Nope.” She stated matter of factly. “They knocked me out and I woke up like this.”

[yandere-wishes]

🐚Smooth Criminal //Yandere! Gangster! Floyd Leech X Reader//🐚

My first Gangster AU! This is most likely going to end up being a series for each of the different boys! SO please tell me what you thought!

🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚

So, Annie are you ok, are you ok Annie?

the bar bristled with the loud shouts of its patrons. Each table housing at least a dozen members from the same group, all glaring at those from rival gangs. Guns sat, leaned against their master's legs, like school backs at a highschool cafeteria. maybe it was the dim, cheap lights, or the distracted rivalry stares. But by some freak miracle, no one noticed you enter the Jackson. This wasn't a place for a dame such as yourself, a pretty girl who lacked status, a weapon, and even a comrade to have their back. Just a doll-like face and a very obvious briefcase.

Even you were conscious of the fact that you stuck out like a rose in the middle of a field filled with weeds. At any moment one of these goons could turn around and grab you, slam your head on one of the wooden tables till your brains spilled out than claim the loot for themselves, no consciences faced.

Naturally, you wouldn't be here had it not been for your dear uncle Crowley, who had very recently gambled away the equivalent of a small fortune in the underground casino of the infamous Mostro Lounge. Well technically the cousin was only partly owned by the Octavinelle gang, most of the games and funds went to their brother gang of Ignihyde. But for some reason it had been one of the Octavinelle members to come after your uncle, breaking down the door to his house and threatening him with punches and verbal insults. Your "poor" uncle had promised to get him the money, it took about two loans on his house, a few hundred borrowed from his close friends and a lot of support from your own father until he was able to gather the needed amount. But that had left one tiny problem, your sweet uncle had been so shaken up from his last encounter that he had all but begged his only niece to deliver the money for him.

"It's very simple, sweetheart, you just go to the Jackson and give this briefcase to the man with teal hair and anisocoria eyes. I would never make you do something difficult dear, I'm too kind"

Yeah right "too kind"  was an exaggeration, heck nice wasn't any better. Your uncle was a useless old fool. Then again where you any better? You'd just marched into the most mobster ridden bar in all of this godforsaken city. With nothing more than a white circular dress and a briefcase with your uncle's initials engraved in it. You took a shaky breath before scanning the room, trying to find the man your uncle had described. Teal hair and anisocoria eyes, wearing the signature black and purple of the  Octavinelle gang.

A glance around confirmed that there where members from each of the Twisted Seven here. The twisted seven where the infamous gangs of New NightRaven City. Each gang was started sometime before even their current leaders where born. The original leaders had gone down as the pioneers of turning New NightRaven City into a gangsters paradise. Somehow the leadership roles had trickled down to the current seven, mostly through heritage. The history of the Twisted Seven was thought in schools all over the city more vigorously than actual world history. Up to this day, you weren't quite sure how or why the first world war had started but you could name every leader for each group in chronological order.

In the far back of the bustling room, you noticed an abnormality. One guy was sitting by himself at a four-person booth. A half-empty coke rocks glaring back at him. Your eyes widened, that was him! It had to be! Turquoise locks peaked out from under his black hat. For a split second his head turned, his eyes looking about unseeingly. That's when you noticed his eyes. One was vibrant gold, while the other borders on an olive-like green, both orbs, however, seemed to shine with a sort of mischievous glow.

Swallowing down a sense of foreboding deep in your soul, you gradually strolled over to the man. He didn't seem to notice you until you had rearranged into the seat before him. When his eyes met yours, his lips maneuvered into an open-mouth grin showing heaps of razor-sharp teeth. "OoO~ Who might you be little shrimp-chan?" His voice didn't seem able to hold a steady tone, vocals switching between high and low better every word, making the man appear all the more deranged. You sucked in a nervous breath. Under the table you squeezed your knees together, focusing on how the kneecaps pressured each other.

"Um..I'm (y/n), my uncle owed the Octavinelle some money and..."

"Oh so your here to pay off his debt?" He leaned in closer, tongue flickering out to run across his lips. His mismatched eyes scanned you up and down, lingering just a little too long on your chest. Quickly you made slung your arm over your over breasts, trying to muster up a glare to shoot at the audacious male. 

"N-not like that" You pulled up the briefcase, pummeling it down on the table with a noisy "thud".  "He has the money, he owned you. All ten thousand dollars." 

Around the two of you, people became to stare, all pulling out their cells, no undoubtedly to inform their superiors about the transaction going down in plain view. The gangster in front of you, slowly trailed his gaze around the room, shooting challenged to meet his eyes. "Are you sure you aren't the payment? You're pretty, could round up a bunch of customers for the Lounge~ Oh maybe we could even loan you out to customers that way it would only take seven months to repay your uncle's debt--"

It was pure impulse on your part, rage had taken over your body. Your hand moved on its own, stretching out for the halve empty coke glass, carrying your body with itself. Your fingers wrapped sufficiently tight around the cup. Tugging it towards yourself, before tilting it and spilling its liquid contents in the face of the man in front of you. It took a moment for the events to fully process in either of your heads. Angry breaths left your mouth before you stood up and marched over to the door. Shouting one last cruse at the mobster before slamming the door behind you.

Back at the booth, Floyd had finally realized what had happened. His shoulders began to vibrate uncontrollably. A sadistic bloodthirsty laugh falling from his lips. His eyes lifted to where you had been moments priory a sort of childlike greed shining inside his orbs. "Shrimp-chan~" he cooed to the empty space.

🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚

Sam pulled the yellow tape over his head, contracting his back so he could duke under it. In front of the building, he noticed a man with a red trench coat surrounded by five other police officers. The man must have been in his late 40's maybe even mid 50's. Sam let out a haughty breathy laugh. This was his new partner? The younger man jogged up to the small group. "Detective Trein I presume?" Sam was met by a harsh glare from the older man. "you're the rookie?" disapproval clear in every word. Ouch.

"You bet I am sir," Sam made a gesture akin to tilting a top hat as he bowed slightly. "Sam, reporting for duty". "What no last name?" "No Sir, just my mother given name, a nice one too I might add." Sam kept his eyes lowered but he could practically feel the way his new partner rolled his grey eyes. "Fine than Sam, follow me I trust you shouldn't find this case too hard. It's a simple kidnapping case. Nothing too elaborate for your young mind." Man, this guy really was a prick.

For as far as Sam could see this really was just an everyday kidnapping. All signs pointed towards just that. "If you would direct your attention to the window." Sam jumped from his thoughts. He quickly jogged up to where Trein was standing by a broken window. "The invader came in from here, most likely he climbed up the fire escape. Where guessing he had a knife on him or some other sharp object." Sam smiled, how had the old man gotten all that from an open window?

The second you left the bar, you had run all the way back to your apartment. The second you had gotten home you locked the doors and made a quick call to your uncle. As usual, he was "busy" doing whatever it was he did. Leaving a fast paced voicemail explaining that you had given the mobster his money and that you were home now. Leaving out the section you had caused. It was over finally the whole nightmare was over. your eyes darted to the old clock on your wall 9:15 pm late enough for dinner. Making your way to the kitchen, you forgot to notice that you had in fact left the window closest to the fire escape wide open. 

"Bang!"

The noise reverberated across the cramped apartment. Causing you to jump out of your thoughts. Anxiously you snatched a kitchen blade as you gradually strolled again into the front room. Your brain continued replaying the occasions of that night. It must be the Octavinelle, they had sought you out! All things considered, you had embarrassed one of their members. When you finally made it to the living room, you were both surprised and relieved. There weren't a hundred armed goons flooding your apartment with guns ready to shoot you on sight. Instead, it had been the man from earlier, casually standing by the window, whistling some tune that was eerie familiar. 

It took a moment before the man noticed you. His whistling stopped and was instead replaced with a shark-like smile. "HI~ little shrimp! I forgot to introduce myself earlier~ Name's Floyd what's yours darling?" Nervously you stepped back, knife clenched tightly to your chest. 

"G-Get away from me!"

"How do you know the man was armed? Heck, how do you know he was a guy?" Sam asked. Trein let out an annoyed huff. "Seriously do you know nothing? Well, I guess you are rather new to this." The grey-haired man turned to his younger partner. Sam swear for a moment he caught a glimpse of what may have been considered a "father instinct" although never having had a father, he could have been completely wrong. "When you've been in this profession as long as I have, you pick up on. There are small differences that become obvious once you've cracked your first ten cases. Notice the blood on the carpet, and realize how 40 mm away there is a smaller bloodstain, only this one has been pressured into the carpet, due to its crescent-like scape we can confidently deduce that it was made by a heel. And look closely at the carpet starts, look at how they seem to be red from the roots and middle, not just the tips. All that point to our invader having stepped in the first blood pool than having made the second engraving with the heel of his shoe as he chased the victim." Sam's eyes widen, maybe the old man wasn't just a jerk, after all, maybe he knew a thing or two.

"Is that any way to treat a guest little shrimp?~" His eyes locked with yours, freezing you in your spot like a dear in headlights. Noticing your dumbfounded form he ran forward prying the knife from your weak grip. A scream filled the air, it took you a second to realize it had come from you. When your eyes went back to your offenders face you could see how his lips were pointed downwards a deathly glare coating his eyes. 

The next moment his fingers made contact with your cheek, you swore you could hear a crescendo, your body felt heavy your head started spinning, for some reason the ground was getting closer and closer until you felt your body crash into the carpet. Your left cheek stung, as well as feeling like it was on fire. as you laid on the floor you watched as something red slipped onto the carpet. Something thick and red. "Oh, shrimpy you look so pretty when you bleed." 

Trein made his way to the kitchen, flicking a switch the moment he passed the threshold. A single light overhead flickered to life. "Kinda cramped for a kitchen ain't it?" Sam asked as he peeked over Trein shoulder. The older man ignored his partner's comment, wordlessly he pointed to the table in at the far left-hand side. Sam's red eyes followed the man's finger, Dead center there was a large kitchen knife ended in the old-looking wooden table. "Usually women are more calculating when they performed a kidnapping. Men are the ones that go ramped like wild beasts." Sam nodded his head absentmindedly. The young investigator made a mental note to never be as obvious if he ever did decide to kidnap someone.

"Oh~ that's so pretty." You had only known "Floyd" for a little over an hour, that including your rather unpleasant meaning back at the Jackson. But already you could tell just how short the man's attention span was. Slowly you shimmed your body from the ground, the mobster didn't seem to have noticed. The second your legs passed the kitchen's threshold you flicked the light, engulfing the tiny cooking space in total darkness. You made a swift sprint for the table, crunching under it. Your breath refused to leave your mouth, heart pounded with such force you were certain it would break the bones of your rib cage. In the distance, his loud footsteps could be heard. Closer and closer and closer. You didn't dare open your eyes, but you kept your ears open, trying to pick up any lose noises he might make.

1 heartbeat 

2 heartbeats

3 heartbeats

Nothing. There was no more noise to be heard, slowly your eyes cracked open, a tiny fragile breath escaped your mouth, right before a sharp noise echoed above head. Floyd's twisted head came into view that damned smirk still on his lips. Another scream, this time you knew it was coming from you. The teal haired man reached to grab the collar of your shirt, pulling you forward. You kicked and thrashed about as the gangster such laughter. Really how sick was this man? Finally, with one last kick, you freed yourself, Floyd fell backward clutching his stomach mutter some profanity you'd never heard before. Quickly you made a dash for your room. Locking the door behind you.

"And this is the last destination of our tour," Trein said as he made a sweeping gesture with his hand. Sam was almost certain he heard a hint of humor in the old man's tone. "What happened here?" The rookie asked. "Why Sam! I thought you where a detective, can't you deduce this simple problem?" Definitely humor. Sam quickly scanned the room. 'Um, he dragged her into the room, locking the door behind them. Then broke the window preparing to escape. But then a third party broke the door down, trying to save the girl. Before the third party could intervene it's likely that the man pulled her through the window and killed her behind some ally." Trein only nodded, following along with the boy's story. "Well Sam you sure have an active imagination, but it's most likely that this is what happened..."

You could hear the pounding on your door, slowly you backed away heading for your nightstand, aimlessly you tried to locate your phone. Until you remembered that you had left it on the couch. "Dang it" Your eyes scanned the room nervously trying to find something helpful, anything!

BANG

pieces of wood flew around the room, you brought your hands up to shield your face, only to have them pulled downwards. Your eyes looked upwards, instantly locking with Floyd's "Found you~" he sang. In the midst of the chaos, Floyd smashed his lips yo yours, they were unpleasant, chapped, and salty. You tried pushing him away but to no avail.   Gradually he broke the kiss, pushing his forehead to yours. Before slinging you over his shoulder and ramming full force into the window in your room. Crashing the glass and escaping into the night with you. It was at that moment that you knew that this was your doom!

"That's the more likely explanation for what happened," Trein explained as he made is way back to the front door. "Well even if it isn't it's more then convincing for a field report and a good enough explanation to give the press". A confused look twisted over Sam's face "How do you know he didn't kill her?" The black-haired boy asked. Trein just laughed and waved a wrinkled hand dismissively. "Call it a hunch" He yelled behind his shoulder.

And what a hunch! Just as the old detective predicted you were very much alive. Just now awaking and opening your (e/c) eyes to gaze into the mismatched ones of Floyd Leech's.

You’ve been hit by a smooth criminal

[jubilantwriter]

A Little Bit of Sweetness in a Bitter World

(They Got the Year Wrong, 2012 was Actually Supposed to be 2020)  (AO3)

Summary:  It’s been the end of the world, so to speak, and time is meaningless, but actions mean everything.  And every action they take must be taken towards their survival.

...So to speak.

But even when surviving in a post-apocalyptic world, they’re allowed to indulge in a little bit of sweetness, right?  David thinks so, at the very least.

Word Count: 4919

////

"You think calendars are still a hot commodity in this day and age?"  Jasper tosses over a damp, wrinkly mess of paper that looks to be the remains of a calendar.  David catches it easily and flips through the pages.  The year proudly states "2021", likely made in the last year before the natural disasters struck all at once.  Each page displays a different picture of nature, with scenes varying from mountains to the ocean to forest and even to jungles.  It's almost ironic, he thinks, these images of peace and tranquility.  

"Probably not.  I don't remember the last time I kept track of the days."   He remembers days where he would eagerly mark off each day, always happy to welcome the next with a smile.  Each date was important.  Each day was worth remembering.   Now, he's just happy to wake up and still find Jasper laying next to him.  

But those are only on the good days.

"I was thinking..."  Jasper trails off, wandering the shelves of the long abandoned store.  "You think we missed out on a bunch of holidays?"

"Probably."  David lets out a hum as he places the calendar down on an empty shelf and examines the remaining oddities left behind by scavengers.  "It's been cold for a while, so we probably missed Christmas."

"And New Years.  Davey, look!"  Jasper grabs his attention to hold up a chipped mug.  Between the spaces of the empty shelves, David can't help the chuckle that escapes him when he reads the words.  "Coffee Helps Me Poop."  The brunet sighs languidly as he looks over the mug with a look of nostalgia.  "God, I miss coffee."

"Maybe we'll find a bag of beans somewhere in one of those houses."  Though they both know his words are more of an empty comfort than ones of hope.  Still, Jasper brightens at the idea of it, and it's enough to make David smile.

"Yeah, maybe.  Oh, but I could make due with leftover grinds."

"Gross."

"Hey man, beggars can't be choosers, and we can always just give them a good wash in the river!"

"No!"  Despite his protests, David laughs anyways.  "I'm sure we can find a bag of something for you.  I think we can try that um, dandelion coffee?"

"Gross."  This time Jasper's the one pulling a face.  "That stuff's made of dandelion roots!  Fucking gnarly as hell, man."

"Beggars can't be choosers," he teases lightly.  "And anyways, dandelions are everywhere!  I'm sure we can roast some roots and make something good."

"If you make it for me, I guess I have no choice."  Jasper sighs dramatically as he puts the mug down.  With a giggle, David leaves his spot by the empty shelves and rejoins him.  Jasper leans over to kiss his cheek, lips pressing gently over now familiar scars.  A warm smile crosses his features as he cups Jasper's cheek.

"So I guess this place was no good either, huh?"

"Nah."  Jasper shrugs and leans into David's touch.  "But it's not like we're surprised."  

Which is true.  The two of them happened upon this empty town much like someone else before them.  The houses were already looted, stores emptied, and bodies either half buried or left to rot.  They'd taken care of the few that were left forgotten, placing plucked dandelions on the makeshift mounds in remembrance.  David always found it sad how there were so many bodies still left over from the disasters.  So many lives, so many stories left to rot in the open air as survivors walked over them without a second thought.

He remembers the early days, when he and Jasper had no choice but to loot the bodies as well.  It was sickening, but they had to survive.  He remembers when they walked over bodies, leaving them to rot in the open air, never daring to spare another glance in fear of getting sick.

Now they never get sick.  The sight of bodies no longer made them terrified of their own mortality, but rather, they now placed it upon themselves to treat these lost lives with more respect as they continue to tread this ground alone and alive together.  It's the least they can do.  

"Hey, man."  Jasper's soft voice breaks his thoughts, and David blinks back to the present.  "Let's say we try a few more places before bouncing, yeah?"

"...Yeah."  David pulls his hand away just to take Jasper's instead.  "Sounds like a good plan."

The two of them leave the store and walk down the strip.  Broken windows and doors hanging from a hinge are passed by with an ease they've grown accustomed to, allowing a lingering glance to see what the stores used to promise to sell.  Clothes, shoes, things that would have been useful had they stumbled upon this strip mall months in advance.  Now all that remain are empty shelves and splashes of blood that neither want to entertain wondering about.  They continue past more empty stores, still glancing inside in hopes of finding something accidentally left behind.  Instead, they stumble upon a novelty store, similar to the one that used to house calendars.  Jasper jabs his thumb at it.

"Wanna give it a shot?"

"Sure."  

They're not sure what they're looking for in a novelty store.  The knick knacks they once sold are either broken or long gone.  David lets go of Jasper's hand to continue perusing the shelves.  A few toys are scattered here and there in pieces, perhaps stepped on in a mad rush to find things of use, otherwise ignored in pursuit of other items.  There was probably someone out there who would have liked these toys.  

...And maybe, not anymore.  He leans down and picks up a dirtied plushie.  Turning it back and forth in his hands, the thought of children enters his mind, and he quietly stores it into his backpack.  They've come across a child or two in their journeys.  It was always surprising, stumbling across a kid on their lonesome.  They'd always try and offer help, but the children are always much more suspicious of them than they are of the children.

It makes sense, doesn't it?  

The children always ran away before they could do anything to help.  He would always want to chase after them but...

He shakes his head.  That would just scare them away, he knows this.  They've come across settlements where kids still live with their parents in a promised safety, only to have to watch as it goes up in flames (it always goes up in flames, fitting that it's something man made that manages to extinguish the rest of them instead of nature itself) as they either perished or ran off, never to be seen again.

He knows a kid will never accept this gift from him.  He knows it's a stupid thought.  

But.

He'll keep it.  Just in case.

He's sure the dead ones would prefer a plushie over a dandelion anyways.

"Found anything?"  He turns at Jasper's voice, a tired smile on his face.  

"Not really.  Just this stuffed toy."

"Ah."  Jasper doesn't question him, instead bending down and picking up a little car.  "Always liked these little dudes."

"I remember you collected them when they were popular."  David watches as he rolls the wheels against his palm, letting it run in the air before turning it this way and that.

"Hot Wheels will always be popular in my heart."  Jasper's smile turns lighthearted as he pockets it.  David doesn't question it.  "I saw a door to the backroom earlier.  Tried opening it, but it was locked up good."  He pauses for a moment before giving David a look.  "Real good."

David's heart jumps at the implications, as well as sinks.  There's no telling what they will find behind a locked door.  "We'll just have to be careful."

"Right."  Jasper reaches behind him and pulls out his trusty pipe.  "I'll kick it down."

"Okay."  David reaches inside his jacket to pull out his knife.  "I'll keep you covered."

Jasper simply nods as they walk towards the back room's door.  The brunet lifts his leg up and positions it right by the doorknob.  A quick nod to David is followed up with a powerful kick and a curse.  The door remains intact and unbudged with only a boot print to show Jasper’s efforts.

Of course.

"It's metal."  Jasper grumbles as he hops around on his good foot.

"You alright?"

"Yeah, don't sweat it."  With a final hop, he settles down and jostles the handle.  Locked.  "No wonder it's untouched.  No one's been able to open it.  Unless..."  Jasper turns to David with a playful smirk.

"...Unless?"

"Unless we lockpick it open."

"Jasp."  David sighs as he crosses his arms.  "For the last time, we don't know how to do that."

"C'mooon!"  He looks towards David with big, round, pleading eyes.  David turns away to avoid his stare.  "I know you know how.  You were a rebel as a kid!  You got into places no one else could!"

"But that was ages ago!"

"Maybe it's still floatin' around in there!"  Jasper creeps closer to David and nudges him.  "C'mon, please?  At least try?  For wittle ol' me?"

Only a few seconds pass before David lets out a defeated groan.  "...Fine!  But I'd need something to try and unlock it.”

"Jammin'.  What kinda stuff do you need?"

"Paperclips.  Just two."  David kneels down closer to the door to look at the lock.  There's some damage around the keyhole area, but it shouldn't be a problem for him.  "Um, I don't know if there's any stores around here that have some but-"

"Don't sweat it.  I'll go sniff some out for ya."  Jasper's gone in that instant, and that just leaves David alone with this lock and his thoughts.  What could be in there, he wonders?  Supplies?  He looks around the store with its toys and novelty items.  Maybe not.  Probably just products or cleaning supplies.

Maybe a body.

The thought dampens his mood a bit.  But if there truly is a body in there, then it wouldn't hurt for him and Jasper to take it out and lay it to rest.  Just like the other bodies they've come across.  They've been lucky thus far to never have encountered anyone familiar.

But then again...

It wasn't like they originally came from the West Coast.  Both their homes actually lie somewhere in the East, and now that they were still slowly making their way across the States, it'd only be a matter of time before they start recognizing familiar faces.  The thought of it makes his heart sink.

"Found some!"  Jasper pops right over to interrupt his thoughts, and David smiles in relief as his boyfriend kneels down besides him.  If it weren't for Jasper, who knows how many times he'd be lost to his thoughts like this?  

"Thanks."

"Anytime, doll."  He presses another kiss to David's cheek as David giggles.  "So how's this work?"

"Well..."  He takes a paperclip and straightens the whole thing out.  Once it's straight, he bends the pliable metal in half until both sides are flush against the other.  From where the paperclip is bent in half, he takes the end of it and carefully bends it at a right angle.  He then takes the loose ends of the paperclip and twists them together, keeping it whole and stable.  The little L shape he makes out of it is presented to Jasper.  "This is what I'm going to put at the bottom of the lock, right here."  He puts the L shaped paperclip at the bottom of the lock, leaving it hanging as he starts working on the next paperclip.  "This one is gonna be tricky, since it's got smaller uh, details to it."

"Maybe we can try bending it against a shelf or something?"

"Mm, something thinner."

"Hmm."  Jasper looks around before his eyes brighten as he picks up David's discarded knife.  "How's this for thinner?"

"My hero," he teases lightly, kissing Jasper's cheek in thanks.  He takes the next paperclip and only unbends it twice.  Taking the edge of his knife, he carefully bends the very end of it into a W-like shape.  He runs his finger over the shape of it, the W no longer than the tip of his finger.  "This is what I'm gonna use to try and get the lock to unlock."

"Very descriptive."  Jasper nods along as David sets to work with his improvised tools.  

He pushes the W tool in above the L as he holds the bottom tool down, and starts to wiggle the W up and down, jostling it every once in a while until he hears the familiar click.  He turns both tools at the same time successfully and turns to Jasper with a big grin.

"Still got it."

"I knew you did!"  Jasper whoops as he pulls David into a hug.  "I love you so much, my lock picking little nerd!"

"Jasp!"  David laughs as Jasper starts rubbing their cheeks together.  "You know I wasn't a nerd when I learned how to do this."

"Fine."  The brunet rolls his eyes as he hugs David tighter.  "My little bad boy."

"And I'm taller."

"My BIG bad boy."

"Thank you," he says sweetly, rubbing their noses together.  "I do like the sound of that."

"Anything for you, babe."  Jasper chuckles as they both turn their attention back to the unlocked door.  "What do you think is behind there?"

"Dunno."  He parts from Jasper a bit unwillingly to pocket the tools and pick up his knife.  "But only one way to find out, right?"

"Right."  Jasper takes out his pipe once more and holds it at the ready, his other hand on the handle as David stands prepared by his side.  "1, 2..."

Three never gets spoken out loud as Jasper slams the door open, barreling in with his pipe raised high above him.  What greets them is...

No one.

"Damn, did all that for nothing, huh?"  He puts his pipe back into its little spot as David keeps his knife out.

"Better it be nothing than someone with a working gun, dear."

"True that."  Jasper takes a gander around the room, noting the modestly sized storage room and the shelving unit that works almost as a divide.  He jabs his thumb at the other side of the unit.  "I'll take that half of the room."

"Then I'll take this half."  They nod towards each other and start their search.

It's been a while since David's seen full shelves of anything.  Or, well, more occupied shelves.  There are boxes scattered here and there, mostly of the same things that linger outside still.  He takes a few more stuffed animals, storing them in his pack for a later burial.  As he searches through another box, he blinks at his odd little discovery.  Digging out from under the rest of the merchandise, he chuckles to himself as he holds up a little gimmicky keychain.

A little heart-shaped character is holding a card that reads, "My heart belongs to you!" in cheesy cursive.  The strap looks like the usual beady sort that can easily snap off.  David digs around some more, hoping to find others.  Jasper used to love these things when they were kids, opting to spend quarters trying to get quirky little keychains of popular cartoon characters rather than something sensible, like a gumball or candy.  David quickly finds another one wrapped in plastic packaging and swiftly removes it.  This one is apple shaped, but the face and posture are exactly the same.  The words for this one read instead, "You're the apple of my eye!" in the same cheesy cursive.  He's about to search for more when he hears an excited gasp coming from Jasper.

"What did you find?"

"No-don't-come-over-here!"  Normally, words like that coming from Jasper would alarm him, but he could recognize that giddy tone anywhere.

"You sure?"

"Yes!"  

David smiles as he pockets the matching keychains.  "Alright.  Call out if you need me for anything."

"You got it, dudeski." 

David returns to searching through more boxes and finds nothing particularly useful in any of them.  There's some loose paper clips that he finds however, and he decides that taking those won't be such a bad idea.  He looks around the shelves and finds a screwdriver lying forgotten on one of the shelves.  He takes that as well, noting the shape of the head.  

Flat.

He never could find one of these back in the day.  They were surprisingly easy to misplace when he really needed one.  

More searching yields less results, although he does find something even more delightful than the matching keychains.  After a bit of fiddling, he quickly stuffs it into his pack before Jasper can even notice and takes a quick lookover his half of the room.  

All the boxes have been searched, and nothing of use was left behind.  He's tempted to peek his head over to Jasper's side, but he knows better than to spoil a surprise that Jasper has planned.  Instead, he calls out, "You finished yet?"

"Yeah, just about."  There's some grunting and thumping as Jasper puts something aside.  "Couldn't find anything useful except for some rubber bands.  And- oh!"  There's some more scuffling as Jasper makes a pleased sound.  "Holy shit, dude- come over here!"

David makes his way over and finds Jasper holding up a white box with a red plus sign on it.  Quickly, he rushes over and holds it as well.  "...No way."

"I'm gonna open it."  Jasper grins as he undoes the clasps.  "It's been a goddamn while since we came across one of these guys!" 

"In pristine condition too," David mumbles as the top pops off.  Inside are bunches of unused band-aids, gauze, alcohol wipes, little packets of various ointments, painkillers-

"Jackpot!  Literally the jackpot!"  They set the first-aid kit down gently as they go through the supplies.  "There's even some peroxide in here, holy shit-"

"These pills haven't expired yet either."   

"All good things come in first-aid kits."  They carefully pack everything back up into the kit and store it in Jasper's pack.  "We can sort things out once we get back to the campsite."

"Agreed."  They both stand up and take another gander around the room.  Though the back room didn't hold much, it did hold a few things they could make use of.  Jasper flashes David a smile and holds out his hand.  

"Ready to boogie?"

David laughs as he takes Jasper's hand.  "I couldn't have phrased it better myself."  

The two of them exit the store, shielding their eyes as the sun reflects off the melting snow around them.  Jasper sighs as they look around the abandoned strip mall once more.  

"Sucks none of them had any food."

"I'm not really surprised.  But there were a couple of granola bars."  

Jasper flinches.  "Yeah, but the Nature Valley kind.  I bet those fuckers got left behind for a reason, Davey."

David flashes him an innocent grin.  "Beggars can't be choosers!"

"And soon we'll be beggars without any working teeth.  And not a dentist in sight!"

"We'll be fine.  You ate a bathtub twinkie before."

"Yeah, but at least it was soft."  They begin to walk off the path, snow crunching under their boots as they walk across the roads littered with abandoned cars.  Some look broken into, others burnt from explosions or fires that could have resulted right at the start of the panic, or perhaps even after.  A breeze brushes past them, taking a loose flyer along with it.  They cross more roads and streets, ignoring the stretch of houses that loom in the distance before them and opting for the bordering forest instead.  A familiar clearing opens up to them as they look around carefully to make sure no one else has stumbled across it.  David looks about for tracks that aren't their own in the snow.

Nothing. 

Jasper makes a noise to indicate that they're both safe, and together, they start setting up their camp.  An old tent is pitched carefully, now so thoroughly used and battered that David fears he may need to find or scavenge a replacement somewhere.  Jasper goes about gathering what branches and kindling he can.  "Hey Davey," he calls out, out of sight but still a quick jog away.  "You think I can punch this tree to pieces for firewood?"

"We've had this discussion so many times before- no.  And you've already tried doing that, remember?"  

"Bummer."  Still, David waits and hears the familiar sound of a thump and a resounding, "Ow!" before shaking his head and getting the campfire set up for Jasper.  By the time Jasper returns to the site, David's already begun going though his pack and taking out what little food they have.  He picks up a can of beans and sighs.  It would be nice if they could stumble upon some wild vegetables right about now, but alas, maybe it was still too early to hope for such miracles.  Well, they can share this can of beans for dinner tonight.  Maybe they'll have better luck finding more food tomorrow.

"Guess who bears gifts of warmth!"  For now, however, worrying over their food rations can wait.  David smiles up at his boyfriend and watches as he dumps his whole collection of wood onto the makeshift campfire.

"You do!"

"Damn straight."  Jasper plops down next to him and starts rearranging the wood to a more suitable placement, taking out their old flint and broken knife to get the fire going.  They sit in silence as the sparks catch on the driest wood that Jasper could find, and as they warm up, Jasper makes a thoughtful hum.  "Wonder what today is."

"A cold day," David answers, huddling closer to Jasper as the brunet chuckles.  Jasper wraps an arm around him and draws the ginger in close.

"Nah, I meant date wise."

"The calendar got you thinking?"  Flashes of those peaceful, serene shots of nature echo in his mind, and David wonders how many of those places are still intact.  Are still as serene as they once were before.

The woods are as quiet as they've ever been for the past months or so.  He closes his eyes, remembering the nights in which he could hear the crickets singing their songs, when there were things to worry about in the woods, when he could go to bed and hear the call of the coyotes, when there was life in all the houses, and the most he had to worry about was what he needed to prepare for dinner the next day.

"A little bit."  Jasper leans against him, no doubt lost in his own head as well.  "I was just thinking, y'know, if time is meaningless and so are dates then technically... any day can be a holiday."

"What are you saying?"  

Instead of an answer, Jasper leans over to his pack and starts digging through it.  He grins as he finds what he's looking for, and pulls out an old box of chocolates.  "Tadaaaah!"

"...How old are these?"

"Dunno, dude."  Jasper drops the chocolates on his lap before pulling out a card or three.  The first one features an old fisherman comedically fishing up a big, red heart, with the words on it reading, "You're quite the catch, Valentine!"  With a soft smile, David opens the card to find the inner message reading, "As the kids would say, you're off the hook!"  David laughs as he reads those words.  The next two cards read just as cheesy, he finds.

A card with a puppy dog with huge eyes stares at him with a message reading, "Cute puppies aren't the only things melting hearts this year..."  Opening it, he finds a message that reads, "The icebergs are melting too!  Oh, and you melt my heart as well, Valentine :)"  He can't help but sigh at that message.  Oddly on point, that one.

The last card is more beautifully crafted, with roses adorning the page and a cursive font decorating the front of it.  "Dozens of roses cannot compare to the beauty of our love."  David opens it up to find two messages written in, one typed in the same font as the cover, and one scrawled in haphazardly with what looks to be a pen that gave out more than once.  The card’s message reads: "Here's to another year with you, my dear love."

His eyes drift down to the handwritten one, a handwriting so familiar to him that he’s surprised how little he’s seen of it lately.  "Heya Davey,” it starts out, “I know these past months or so have been super wack, but I'm grateful that you've been here with me this entire time.  I don't know what the future holds for us or the world, but as long as I'm with you, I think I can bite through whatever curveballs the world throws at us.  Thanks for always being off the heezy and super fly.  With all my love, Jasper."

David wipes a tear away before turning to give Jasper a kiss.  They melt into each other, arms wrapped tight as though the fear of a breeze tearing them apart is more life-threatening than the danger they walk through every day.  Pulling apart is difficult when all David wants to do is kiss Jasper again and feel him against him.  But then, he'd never get to see those blue eyes stare at him lovingly, now would he?

"Happy Valentine's Day, Davey."  Jasper speaks softly as he gently brushes David's tears away with a smile.  "I know it ain't much but, it was all I could find in that store."

"No, Jasp, this is all- this is wonderful.  I love all of this."  David hugs the cards to his chest and laughs, before remembering his own gifts.  "Oh!  Hold on a minute."  David pulls out the two keychains and hands them to Jasper.  "They aren't much, but they were all I could find in those boxes."

"Aww, Davey!"  Jasper takes them both and holds them up against the backlight of the setting sun.  "Wouldja look at that - they're matching!"

"Yeah," he responds shyly, kicking at the earth under their feet.  "I-I figured I'd let you choose which one you like the most, and then I can take the other one, and then it's like, even if we're apart for a little bit, we'll still have something that'll keep us together, even if it's spiritually?"

Jasper turns his attention to David, a bright smile on his face as he cups David's cheek with his free hand.  "You big goof, nothing's gonna be able to keep us apart at this rate, huh?"

"You're right- oh!  Before I forget."  David giggles and digs through his bag one last time.  He pulls out a stuffed animal- or rather, a stuffed Pokemon.  To find one of these little guys hiding in the backroom, surely, an employee had meant to keep it for themselves as a gift for their own significant other.  He hopes they didn't mind that he took the cute little Pikachu and added an embellishment of his own.  With the same shyness from before, David presents the plush to Jasper, watching his eyes light up when he catches sight of the fake rose that David had haphazardly affixed to its paw with a stray rubber band he'd found lying around.

"No.  Way."  Jasper takes it from his hands and looks it over.  "...Davey!"

"I found it while we were looking for supplies."  He scratches the back of his head, no doubt the blush already forming on his cheeks is getting redder as Jasper stares at him with his big, round eyes tearing up like that.  "And I know how much you still love Pokemon to this day, so I thought maybe you'd like this too?  A-and I figured I'd make it, you know!  A little more personal with the um, with that rose I found."  Technically, he'd torn it off a different stuffed animal, but Jasper didn't need to know that.

"I love it," Jasper whispers, already cuddling it close to his chest.  "Fuck, I love you so much, Davey."  

"I love you too, Jasp."  

Jasper quickly plants another kiss on David, pulling a part just for a moment to press another, more lingering one on his lips.  By the time the two of them part again, they sit together breathless, a warmth spreading from their chest as they cuddle close together.

“Hey,” Jasper speaks softly, taking the chocolates in one hand while keeping his arm wrapped around his little stuffed toy.  “Let’s say we eat this for dinner instead?  I don’t think chocolate can go bad that quickly.”

There’s nutrition to take into account in a survival situation, David thinks.  But his fingers move anyways, tugging the plastic cling wrap off as they open the little box of delights open.  They can worry about nutrition later.  It’s not like they were looking forward to another night of beans anyways.

It’s an indulgence, but one they so rightly deserve.

For that moment, the two of them simply bask in the light of their love, happily going over their gifts and idly talking to each other over the light of the campfire.  Even if it was for a moment, for once, the woods felt alive again with the noise of the chatter.

And in that moment, it felt as though everything was alright in the world. 

[longitudinalwaveme]

A Pipe Dream

The Flash stars in: A Pipe Dream

Dramatis Personae

Wally West, the garrulous, impulsive, and friendly third Flash

Joan Garrick, Jay Garrick’s wife, who is patient, loving, and supportive of everyone

Iris Allen, Barry Allen’s wife, an inquisitive daredevil reporter

The Pied Piper, alias Hartley Rathaway, a Robin Hood-esque thief

The Top, alias Roscoe Dillon, an arrogant, elitist, and top-obsessed criminal

Weather Wizard, alias Mark Mardon, an overconfident, rather stupid robber

Heat Wave, alias Mick Rory, a dim, shockingly gentle pyromaniac

Script

Act I

(Joan and Iris are onstage)

Iris: So, how’s Jay?

Joan: He’s doing well enough, I suppose, but, to be honest, I’m a little worried about him. He keeps claiming that he’s retired from crime fighting, but every time I turn around, he’s wearing that silly hat of his and racing off to fight bank robbers or carjackers or giant, murderous, telepathic gorillas. It was one thing when he was fifty, but now he’s 99 years old, and the doctors say that his heart won’t be able to take much more of his running at super speed.

Iris: What does he say about that?

Joan: That (strikes a heroic pose) “ it will be a pleasure to die in the line of duty.”

Iris: (Laughs) That sounds just like Barry.

Joan: I know, and it’s not funny. Our husbands spend so much time saving everyone else that they never stop to worry about themselves.

Iris: I guess that’s true-but hey, that’s part of what we’re here for, to make sure our husbands take some “me time” occasionally.

Joan: In speaking of husbands, how’s Barry?

Iris: He’s not doing so well. He came down with the flu a few days ago, and I’ve been going crazy trying to keep him from leaving his bed so that he can go fight crime.

Joan: Oh, I’ve had that happen with Jay before. Once, when he had pneumonia, he heard about a shoplifting ring, and I had to call in Ted and Alan-you know them as Wildcat and the original Green Lantern-to physically restrain him so that he wouldn’t leave the house to go stop them.

Iris: Well, I haven’t had to resort to calling the Justice League to restrain Barry yet, so things could be worse.

Joan: You’re right. Things could be worse. We could be having to deal with two sick speedsters each. Or a sick Superman!

Iris: Man, that would be a nightmare. I have no idea how that Lois Lane woman does it.

Joan: Maybe Clark just doesn’t get sick. After all, he isn’t a human, so maybe our diseases don’t affect him and he’s as invulnerable to getting sick as he is to everything else.

Iris: Maybe so.

(Enter Wally)

Wally: Hi, Joan. Hi, Aunt Iris. (Sneezes) How are you?

Iris: Hi, Wally. We’re doing all right. How are you?

Wally: I’m fine, but Linda and the kids all have the flu (Sneezes) and the twins also both have strep. (Sneezes) It sure is lucky that I don’t get sick, or we’d have a real mess on our hands.

Iris: Um, Wally, are you sure you’re not sick?

Wally: Yeah, I’m sure. (Sneezes three times) I never get sick. I had perfect attendance all throughout school, and you can check my records if you don’t believe me.

Joan: Can you at least try to take it easy, Wally?

Wally: I can’t do that! Jay’s retired and Uncle Barry has the flu, and someone has to protect the city! Besides, I can’t deny my adoring fans the chance to see me because I have a few sniffles. (Sneezes) I’ll be fine!

Iris: (To Joan) Is there a single superhero in the entire world who actually rests when they get sick?

Joan: Speaking from experience, I don’t think there is.

Wally: I said that I’m fine! (Sneezes) So, do you want to get lunch? I’m starving!

Iris: Wally, it’s 8:00 in the morning!

Wally: Okay, so let’s get brunch!

Iris: But I just ate breakfast!

Wally: I don’t follow. (Sneezes) I just ate breakfast, too, and I’m already hungry again.

Joan: Wally, dear, you have to consume 980,000 calories per day just to survive, so you have to eat almost constantly. We simply don’t have the appetite or the metabolism to keep up with you.

Wally: Oh, right. I forget that fact a lot-especially (Sneezes) since my kids inherited my metabolism and have to (Sneezes) eat even more than I do.

Iris: It’s all right, Wally.

Wally: So, um, do you want to go to McDonalds with me (Sneezes) and watch me eat? With Linda and the kids all sick, I’ve been cooped up in the house for a week, and I’m going stir-crazy!

Iris: I suppose so. After all, with Barry sick, I haven’t been able to get out much, either.

Joan: I’ll go, too. After all, if you really are sick despite your claims, someone needs to keep an eye on you so that you don’t run yourself into the ground.

Wally: Great! I love you guys so much, and I can’t wait to sink my teeth into (Sneezes) 340 Big Macs! I love McDonalds food!

Iris: (Shakes head) Never change, Wally. Never change.

(Exit All)

Act II

(The Pied Piper is onstage, playing an instrument. Enter the Top)

Top: Top of the morning to you, Piper.

Piper: Oh, good, you were able to make it. Did you have any trouble getting here?

Top: No. There is not a person in this city who would dare inconvenience the Top.

Piper: What about our friends in the red pajamas?

Top: Don’t make me laugh, Piper. The old one is feeble and retired, the young one is impulsive and stupid, and the only one that poses a threat has the flu, and therefore cannot be on top of his game. They could not bother me if they tried. What of you, my friend? Are you still in tip- top shape, or has your life spun out of control?  

Piper: I’m as fit as a fiddle, Roscoe. The Flashes have no reason to hunt down a peaceable man who steals money from drug lords and self-absorbed starlets and gives it to the poor. In fact, if I could only make them realize that the real villains are the members of the 1% who enrich themselves at the expense of the poor, we would be good friends.

Top: But I heard you were homeless?

Piper: I am.

Top: How, exactly, did that come to pass?

Piper: Well, after my last heist, I was going to buy an apartment for myself, but while I was on my way to buying it, I saw a very pregnant woman with two small children crying, and when I asked her what was wrong, she told me that she was trying to escape from her abusive boyfriend but that she had no money, and so I gave her the money and told her to use it to make a good life for herself and her children, and so I was unable to buy anything.

Top: You gave all of the money away?

Piper: Of course! They needed it more than I did.

Top: You, sir, are a fool. This is the fifth time that you have given up a permanent home to help some wretch-the fifth time!

Piper: Roscoe, you of all people should understand what it is like to be an outcast. How can you criticize my desire to help others that the world has forgotten?

Top: Because I am a genius, something that decidedly does not apply to the people for whom you constantly risk your freedom and your own safety.

Piper: Roscoe, my early life was spent in scandalous luxury, luxury that my parents took at the expense of the poor who helped build their empire. It’s only fair that I go without to help them now. (Pause) So, do you know if anyone else is coming to our little meeting?

Top: No. I do not concern myself with the behavior of lesser men like them.

(Enter Heat Wave)

Heat Wave: Hi, Piper! Hi, Top! Seeing you two really warms my heart! (Hugs Piper)

Piper: Mick, I love hugs, but…I….can’t….breathe!

Heat Wave: Oh, sorry. (Releases him)

Piper: Hi, Mick. How have you been?

Heat Wave: I’m okay. I was burning up with fever a couple days ago, but I’m all better now.

Piper: I’m glad to hear that. Do you know if any of the others are coming?

Heat Wave: Captain Cold won’t be here. He’s got a bad case of the chills , and besides, he’s still in prison, and so is Mirror Master. They say hi.

Piper: And what about Glider?

Top: My love is on vacation in the Bahamas. She won’t be able to come.

Piper: Wait. I thought you said that you didn’t know if anyone else could come!

Top: Did I? Oh. My apologies.

Piper: (To Heat Wave) Do you know if Digger is coming?

Heat Wave: He won’t be coming. He broke his leg and told me that he didn’t feel like messing with crutches when I brought him chocolate and flowers.

Piper: Okay, and what about Mardon?

Heat Wave: I don’t know. Last I heard, he was feeling a little under the weather.

(Enter Weather Wizard)

Wizard: Nope, I’m as right as rain!

Piper: Hi, Mark!

Wizard: Hi, Piper! Hey, Mick.

Heat Wave: How’ve you been? I heard you were sick.

Wizard: Nope. I’ve just been taking it easy.

Top: What a surprise.

Wizard: What’s that supposed to mean?

Top: It means that you are a lazy fool who hasn’t done a day’s work in his life.

Wizard: Am not! Why, I stole an entire tractor-trailer full of sports cars in an hour once!

Top: Yes, by sitting on your couch and allowing a tornado to detach the trailer from the cab of the truck and deliver the loot to your house.

Wizard: So? You can’t fault me for conserving energy!

Top: “Conserving energy”, my foot.

Wizard: What’s the matter, Top? Are you jealous of my power?

Top: No. I simply think it is wasted on a man who uses it only to commit petty thefts.

Wizard: (Raises weather wand) Petty? (Waves wand) I’ll show you petty! (Thunderclap)

Heat Wave: Whoa there, Mark, let’s not get hasty. I don’t want you to do something in the heat of the moment that you’ll regret-like destroying this building with all of us in it!

Piper: Mick’s right, Mark. It’s too dangerous to get into a fight here.

Wizard: (Lowers weather wand) Fine. But if you expect me to take his stupid comments forever, you’re chasing rainbows, Piper.

Piper: (to Top) Roscoe, please don’t antagonize Mark. You really don’t want him to make you face the music .

Top: I am not afraid of him, Piper.

Wizard: Well, you should be, because if you don’t start respecting me, our little truce will be nothing more than the calm before the storm!

Top: Whatever you say, Mardon. Whatever you say. (Pause) Shall we get down to business?

Heat Wave: Yeah, we should. Who has a plan for our next heist?

Piper: I do, actually, so if you don’t mind, I’ll be calling the tune on this job. You see, some friends of my parents are importing some very fine jewelery, and I think that those jewels will make for a tidy sum for the poor….

Act III

(Wally, Iris, and Joan are sitting at a table)

Wally: Boy, that was delicious! (Sneezes) I don’t care what Uncle Barry says-McDonalds has the best food in the world!

Joan: It isn’t exactly the healthiest food, you know.

Wally: Yeah, I know-but with the way I burn calories (Sneezes) , it isn’t going to hurt me any!

Iris: Um, I’m not sure that’s how it works, Wally.

Wally: Well, even if it isn’t, I’m young and it tastes good, so who cares?

Joan: I do, for one.

Iris: And so do I.

Wally: Good grief! When are you two (Sneezes) going to stop treating me like a little kid?

Iris: Wally, I watched you grow up. It’s going to take awhile for me to adjust-especially when you keep acting like a crazy teenager.

Wally: I don’t act like a crazy teenager! (Sneezes) I act like a crazy adult!

Joan: Wally, there isn’t much difference between a crazy teenager and a crazy adult.

Wally: Oh, yeah? (Sneezes) Prove it!

Joan: The Trickster.

Wally: Yeah, you’ve pretty much got me there. (Sneezes) Sorry I’m so annoying.

Joan: It’s all right. You’re not annoying most of the time, dear.

Iris: Just some of the time.

Wally: I love you guys. (Sneezes) So, what should we do next?

Iris: We could go shoe shopping. I’ve been needing a new pair of heels.

Wally: No! Not shoe shopping! Linda’s taken me on enough shoe shopping trips to last a lifetime! (Sneezes)

Iris: I was only kidding, Wally.

Wally: Good. Oooh, why don’t we get ice cream?

Joan: You can get ice cream. It probably isn’t a good idea for us to get it.

Wally: Yes! (Disappears, then returns with ice cream and cake)

Joan: Where did you get the cake from?

Wally: China. (Sneezes) They make everything there these days.

Iris: (Laughs) You ran all the way to China just to get cake?

Wally: Well, I was aiming for Hungary, but I overshot.

Joan: How did you overshoot Hungry? You have a full-time residency there.

Wally: Huh? (Pauses, then laughs) Oh, I get it! That’s hilarious, Joan!  

Joan: Why thank you, Wally. I think you and your aunt are rubbing off on me.

Iris: I’m glad we decided to do this. Barry’s a dear, but when he gets sick, he can be a bit of a nightmare.

Wally: Wait, Uncle Barry can be a nightmare?

Iris: Believe it or not, yes. Now, he’s not rude or whiny, but he keeps trying to leave his bed and stop crimes instead of resting so that he can get well, and it’s very irritating to make him stay put, because he gives me these really sad puppy dog eyes when I tell him to stay at home.

Wally: Hah! I knew he (Sneezes) had a weakness besides punctuality!

Joan: All three of you have that weakness, Wally.

Wally: I do not! (His phone rings) Sorry. I need to take this. (Pulls out phone) Hello, Commissioner? The Rogues? What are they doing? Mmm-hmm. Uh-huh. All right. I’ll be there as soon as possible, Commish! (Sneezes) You’re welcome. Good-bye. (Puts away phone) Sorry, guys, I’ve gotta run! The Rogues are trying to steal some jewelry, and I need to stop them.

Iris: No problem, Wally. Go get them!

Joan: And be careful!

(Exit Wally)

Iris: You know, just once, I would like to have an outing that isn’t interrupted by criminals, the Rogues, telepathic gorillas, or aliens who want to take over the world.

Joan: I fully agree with you, Iris. (Pause) Would you like to go shoe shopping with me while he’s gone?

Iris: That sounds terrific, Joan.

Commercial Break!

Act IV

(Enter the Rogues, running)

Piper: (Yelling over his shoulder) Thank you for your generous donation to the poor, Mr. Englewood!

Top: Oh, that was terrific fun! I’m feeling on top of the world right now!

Heat Wave: You’re right, Top. There’s nothing like a nice heist with all of my bestest friends to give me those nice warm and fuzzy feelings.

Wizard: Tell me about it. I’m on cloud nine!

Top: What are you going to do with your money, Piper? I am going to buy a nice suit and some new tops for my collection.

Heat Wave: I’m going to buy some presents for all of my friends so that I can warm their hearts. I’m sure Captain Cold will love a new parka.

Top: I was not asking you, you imbecile.

Heat Wave: Oh. I’m sorry, Top.

Top: Just be sure it does not happen again.

Wizard: I’m going to buy me a new car so that I can finally get a girlfriend!

Top: That will never happen, Mark, and I was not asking you either.

Wizard: Well gee, thanks for destroying my ray of hope, Roscoe.

Top: Moron. (To Piper) Well, my friend? What are you going to do with your share of the loot?

Piper: I’m going to donate it to a charity for sick children. The cries of joy that will produce will be music to my ears.

Top: You are giving away your money again? (Pause) I do not believe you.

Piper: What’s so wrong about wanting to help people?

(Enter Wally)

Wally: Because you’re going about it all wrong, Piper.

Wizard: By the four seasons! It’s the Flash!

Top: Not to worry, Mardon. This one is a mere child. (To Wally) Spin.

Wally: Whoa! (Stumbles, but keeps his balance) You should become a ride at Disney World or something, Top, because you make me just as dizzy.

Heat Wave: It’s time for you to take the heat, Kid Flash! (Fires at Wally, who narrowly dodges)

Wally: No thanks!

Wizard: (Waves his wand) We’re too powerful for you to stop, Flash. Why don’t you take a rain check?

Wally: No way! Defeating a bunch of clowns like you will be a breeze!

Top: Perhaps. Then again, perhaps not. (Spins out of Wally’s way)

Heat Wave: This situation is too hot for you to handle, Flash! You should leave before you get hurt or something.

Wally: Get hurt by one of you? Yeah, right. (He sneezes, and Top grabs him from behind)

Top: You were saying?

Wizard: Nighty night, Flash. (Raises his wand, and Wally sneezes again, causing the wand to go flying out of his hand) My wand!

Wally: (Breaks free) Nice try, Mardon. (He handcuffs Wizard and Top to one another)

Heat Wave: Hey, nobody hurts my friends like that!

Wally: (Taps him on the shoulder) You need better friends. (Handcuffs him to a lamp)

Piper: Flash, I’m not going to fight you. I abhor violence, as a general rule, and I know as well as anyone that my musical hypnosis doesn’t work well on you. However, before you take me away, I want to ask you something. Mr. Englewood hardly needs more money, and everyone knows that his factories are some of the most hazardous in the country for his workers. Why is it so wrong that I take money from him and give it to children who are dying from preventable diseases because of lack of money? You can’t argue that he deserves it more than they do, and he’s wealthy enough that he won’t even miss the money we took from him. Can’t you at least let me give the money away before you take me to jail? Please?

Wally: Piper, if I’m being honest, part of me wants to let you, but here’s the thing. I can’t let you break the law in order to help people. I’m sorry.

Piper: That’s all right. You’re just doing what you were told is right. I can’t fault you for that.

(Wally handcuffs him)

Wally: A word of advice, Piper? If you really want to help the poor, and I think you do, I think you’ll find it more rewarding if you do it on the right side of the law.

(Exit Wally)

Wizard: Well, that was a bust.

Top: For once, Mardon, we agree about something.

Heat Wave: Hey, guys, look at the bright side! At least we’re all still together.

Wizard: True. Nobody can call us fair-weather friends!

Heat Wave: And you know what’s even better? When we go back to prison, we can see Captain Cold again!

Top: I’m thrilled.

Wizard: Aww, don’t be such a downer, Top. You should learn to see the silver lining.

Top: I hate you both.

Piper: (Aside) All I wanted was to give the poor justice. Why is that a crime? The idea of people like my parents helping the poor is just a pipe dream...isn’t it?

Act V

(Iris and Joan are onstage. Enter Wally)

Wally: Hi, Iris! Hi, Joan! (Sneezes)

Joan: Oh, hi, Wally. Are you all right?

Wally: I’m okay. (Sneezes) But I think you were right about me being sick. I just took my temperature, and I’m 114 degrees. (Sneezes)

Joan: 114? How are you still alive?

Wally: Because the baseline body temperature for speedsters is 107 degrees.

Joan: Oh, that’s right.

Iris: Were you able to stop the Rogues?

Wally: Yep! (Sneezes) They’re being transported back to prison now, and all the jewelry has been returned. (Sneezes)

Iris: So, what do you want to do now, Wally?

Wally: I want to go home and sleep. (Sneezes) Running around sick won’t help anything.

Iris: Yes! A hero finally sees reason!

Wally: (Sneezes) Oh, and one more thing? Would you mind (Sneezes) donating money to the Children’s Health Foundation? I have a certain….friend who would really appreciate it.

Joan: Of course we will, Wally.

Wally: Thanks. You two are the greatest! (Sneezes)

[cheshiresense]

Oooh! Um... How about Kisuke/Yoruichi/Ichigo? Shadowrun AU (Fantasy AU if you don't know Shadowrun)

Lol I have no idea what Shadowrun is, did a quick google and it’s something like magic + cyberpunk + vaguely futuristic post-apocalyptic setting + virtual reality?? Omg it’s too complicated to write just from reading the wiki lmao, I’ll just give you a cyberpunk fantasy AU.

Edit: This got away from me a bit whoops.

1. Kisuke is your average humble toymaker in the Slums who may or may not supply the underground Robin Hood-esque rebel faction Visored with not-so-average weapons and prosthetics and various repairs and upgrades. The Visored are pretty much wanted in every kingdom in existence, partly because half of them used to be nobles themselves and were part of the minority who hated the way they treated their citizens, mostly because they keep fucking with the other nobles, but no one except said nobles actually wants them to stop because everybody who isn’t nobility pretty much hates those who are. Mostly, it’s the three neighbouring kingdoms - Seireitei, Silbern, and Las Noches - sitting cozy up in their walled off flourishing cities up high, constantly at war with each other but with plenty to eat and plenty of money to fund their large-scale chess games, and paying almost zero attention to the poor and homeless outside their walls. That doesn’t stop them from forcibly conscripting the lower class as cannon fodder or using the Slums as their personal dumping grounds or imprisoning or executing anyone they decide is breaking one law or another. Kisuke’s stayed under the radar so far, so nobody knows he’s the man even more wanted than the Visored, if only for his prodigal skills with cybertech. He’s the one who built their equipment and vehicles, who repaired Hiyori’s spine after she’d been left unable to walk from an ambush and produced a new arm for Hachi after it was cut off in a skirmish, both of which work just as well as the original parts. Most of the nobles either want to kill him or “hire” him. But a toymaker in the Slums who cobbles together tiny cats and dragons and chickens and pixies out of scrap metal for children to play with isn’t anything to look twice at.

2. Here is a secret only a handful of people know - Shihouin Yoruichi was born a cripple. She couldn’t walk, at all, and even the best prosthetics money could buy from the various cybertech companies were clunky and awkward and only allowed her to limp a certain distance. Her family, one of the great noble houses of Seireitei that specialized in seduction and assassination, hid her away out of shame, right up until a rebellious teenaged Yoruichi had had enough and snuck out one night on nothing but her wobbly fake legs and a crutch. She’d spent enough time on her own for the majority of her childhood to know just about every passageway and secret door that snaked through the length and width of Seireitei. She didn’t stop until she appeared in the Slums, and she fainted from exhaustion and hunger only a few days later, but she never looked back. Kisuke found her, took her in, and then made her legs on a whim, upgrading them every time he figured out something new and better that he could add to them. In exchange, Yoruichi used her newfound mobility to retrieve better materials for Kisuke, robbing delivery trucks en route to Seireitei’s cybertech companies or outright stealing from her own family’s weapons storage. Anything they could buy, Kisuke could reverse-engineer and make better. Ten years after she left her old life behind, her legs are a work of art, connected to her nerves to give her complete control over them but granting her superhuman speed and jumping ability, and she’d practiced enough with them over the years that her mind had no problems keeping up with both.  The prosthetics are lightweight but strong enough to withstand the swing of a blade or the impact of a bullet, and she would give a lot to see her family’s faces if they ever realize just who has been ransacking their vaults.

3. Most people carry some kind of weapon these days, but the best - for those who can afford them, or can call Kisuke a friend - can take the form of a companion when not in combat. Shinji’s is in the shape of a sphinx, all sleek lines and feline flexibility, but one that shifts into a sword in a silent whir of pulsing blue lines and polished metal at his command. Mashiro’s is a pixie, not unlike the toys commonly seen in Kisuke’s part of the Slums, except hers includes translucent wings threaded with pale green wiring. It’s perpetually perched on her shoulder, but in a fight, the pixie fuses with her hands and legs, the wings melting and sliding over her skin like liquid mercury to form gloves and boots that increase the power of her kicks and punches.

Yoruichi’s is a black cat but nobody actually knows what kind of weapon it can turn into. More often than not, Yoruichi sends it off as a spy because the thing is so realistic nobody can actually tell it’s not a real animal unless they get close enough to see the delicate wiring in its yellow eyes.

Nobody’s ever seen Kisuke’s either, weapon or otherwise, until a spy from a cybertech company snoops too closely around his shop. Then the other occupants get front-row seats to the bright red threads that extend from his hands - hands that light up with the many, many upgrades inside, a complicated maze of crimson circuits swirling beneath his flesh - and attach themselves to their target like strings on a puppet. At least he takes it out back before he literally rips the spy apart.

4. Once upon a time, before Yoruichi was even born, there were five noble houses instead of four. But the fall of the Shiba Clan is never talked about, and most don’t even remember the details anymore, only that most were put to the sword and the rest were scattered. One of the runners in Kisuke’s employ - the many who scrounge through the Slums’s trash heaps for parts Kisuke might find useful - is a boy on the cusp of twenty who looks uncannily like the last Shiba clan head before the family’s collapse. He goes by Ichigo and doesn’t seem aware of his lineage, and if he notices the way Shinji almost always makes an appearance when he comes in with his haul, and his payment always ends up including several extra portions of food and some high-grade medical supplies and even a new change of clothes now and then, he never says anything. After they find out he has two little sisters to feed, a handful of toys get bundled in as well, free of charge.

Kisuke wouldn’t know a Shiba from a Shihouin, and Yoruichi’s family never bothered teaching her all the things an heir or even just an average noble-born child would’ve needed to know, so neither of them treats Ichigo differently because of his blood or background. They do treat him differently because none of Kisuke’s runners have lasted as long as Ichigo. Sooner or later, they disappear, arrested by guards or killed in a back alley scuffle. Ichigo slinks into the shop at fifteen and still comes around every week like clockwork five years later. He always shows up with a decent haul too, and once, Yoruichi follows him, just to see where he’s getting his loot because surely most of the trash pits in the area have been picked clean over the years? There’s always more added to them, but not at the rate Ichigo is scrounging materials. So Yoruichi follows him one day when he leaves and that’s how they find out about his sisters and the makeshift hole in the wall they live in, shabby-looking on the outside but clean and cozy on the inside and insulated well from the cold. That’s also how they find out about all the enhancements Ichigo has, because Yoruichi makes the mistake of underestimating him and almost gets beheaded when he disappears and almost shivs her from behind with a hand-turned-blade, teeth bared like an animal as his eyes burn with golden circuitry.

(The Shiba Clan had been widely feared, once upon a time, for their genius in the more explosive weaponry and their talent with artificial intelligence and robotics and other biological cybertech enhancements. It was why they’d been so swiftly sentenced to death when they’d come down on the side of the poorfolk. Even one Shiba would’ve been equivalent to having a small army in one’s arsenal.)

Ichigo moved faster, jumped higher, hit harder, than anything Yoruichi had ever come up against. The crack of his heel coming down against the ground shattered rock and cement everywhere, and the only thing that saved her life that day was her dodging ability and a quickly shouted explanation for why she’d followed him in the first place. Ichigo wasn’t unreasonable, even if he wasn’t entirely human. His enhancements explained how he could move further through the Slums for loot and still put down roots in the area. It took some coaxing and several dozen more months of coming and going from the shop, but eventually, he’d also admitted that he didn’t know where his enhancements had come from, he couldn’t remember anything from before waking up the Slums with two regular human toddlers who called him brother depending on him. The only thing imprinted in his memory were the directives: 1) Take Care of Your Sisters, and 2) Survive.

But he was the most powerful thing around for miles, and Kisuke was fascinated because the work done on Ichigo was only vaguely like his own, and far more advanced than anything the nobility churned out these days. Yoruichi didn’t care as much, but she liked having a new sparring partner, not to mention Ichigo was very easy on the eyes, and a few more years on him meant Yoruichi could appreciate the sight without feeling like she was preying on a child.

Ichigo kept coming back, and eventually Kisuke managed to wheedle Ichigo into getting a checkup and upgrades, especially when he started outgrowing a few of his joint ports. Yoruichi watched the two of them make moon eyes at each other, listened to Kisuke ramble about something Ichigo told him the day before, noted the way Ichigo’s eyes sometimes strayed to Kisuke when the man wandered outside without a shirt and his pants on backwards after too many hours in his lab, and she was almost tempted to lock them in a closet together.

(She doesn’t notice the way Kisuke smiles indulgently at her when she comes home from a trip into Seireitei with an icebox of fresh strawberries from the Kuchikis infamous gardens because they’re Ichigo’s favourite, nor does she see Ichigo blink and cock his head in new understanding sometimes when he observes the way she drapes herself over Kisuke, comfortable and relaxed, but never does it with anyone else.)

In the world they live in though, trust is more important than love. Yoruichi has trusted Kisuke since she met him, and Kisuke’s trusted her since she was down two legs and still flung herself between him and a thief with a knife who thought the shop easy pickings. And the day Ichigo brings his sisters over and lets them run around out of his sight is the day they know he trusts them. It’s only natural to offer him and his little family a room of their own at the shop.

5. The day Yoruichi comes back with news of the Silbern Kingdom’s royal family and Las Noches’ royal family both being overthrown by several of their own noble families - the Ishidas and the Kurosakis, and the Coyotes, the Tu Odelschwancks, the Cifers, and the Jaegerjaquezs respectively - is the same day Shinji comes to them and tells them about the revolution movement that’s been in the works for a while now, about the remains of the Shiba Clan currently helping the Ishidas and Kurosakis take over Silbern, and about Ichigo’s own past - memory wiped for his own good because rumours of a Shiba child successfully integrated with his clan’s still experimental but groundbreaking technology had leaked, and if they’d gotten their hands on him, they would’ve turned him into their weapon. Better to hide him in the Slums, along with his two sisters who wouldn’t be of any use in a war for several more years, until they need him again, which they do now, because as soon as Silbern and Las Noches are theirs, they’ll be moving on to Seireitei post haste, and a two-pronged attack while the Gotei is still scrambling to defend themselves would hit them hardest, because for all that the kingdoms have been at war with each other for years, it had never been so direct, nor had their goals ever moved beyond poaching each other’s technologies. But for the revolution movement to succeed, they need Ichigo on their side, and it wouldn’t hurt for Kisuke and Yoruichi to join them too, technically Kisuke’s been their weapons-backer for years, and Yoruichi’s been their ear to the ground in Seireitei for just as long, and they’ll need all hands on deck. The kids can be left with Tessai.

Ichigo storms out. Yoruichi demands to know why they were never told before. And Kisuke surveys a tense-looking Shinji (who explains that it was supposed to be for their safety too - because Yoruichi was their only successful spy in Seireitei, and very, very few could match Kisuke’s genius, and it was just better to keep them out of the way) from beneath his hat before smiling blandly and promptly catching the man with a flick of his hand and five threads, unceremoniously tossing him out the window before he and Yoruichi both go to find Ichigo. It doesn’t take a genius to guess he’d returned to the hole-in-the-wall home he’d made for his sisters, and they join him after Ichigo acknowledges them with a jerk of his shoulders. They don’t speak right away, Ichigo sitting in stony silence, Yoruichi curled on one side of him still seething, Kisuke on his other, absently flexing one red-tinted hand in that way he only does when he’s contemplating murder.

They’ll help, all three of them. They don’t even need to discuss that. It’s high time for the upper-class to get their lives shaken up, the Slums are a disgrace, and if they have the chance to change that, they’ll take it, even if it means working beside people who have been using them for their own ends without giving them so much as a heads-up. Or in Ichigo’s case, will be using him since it’s pretty apparent he might not be the Gotei’s weapon but he is still very much the Shibas’ weapon, reserved for emergencies.

“Regimes come and go every day,” Kisuke remarks first, right hand fanning open, then closing, then opening again, crimson circuits shimmering along the vein lines of his palm.

“What a shame,” Yoruichi agrees with a grin that’s two-parts teeth and all-parts spite.

“…Three of us against three kingdoms that’ve just taken a beating?” Ichigo muses, but his eyes flare gold, and he’s smiling too. “Sounds like fun.”

[give-me-back-my-rhodey]

The Treasures of a Stark - AUgust Day 16

Title: The Treasures of a Stark

Author: Purple_ducky00

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Brief mention of background characters’ racism

Pairings: Sam/Bucky, Rhodey/Tony

Link: Read on AO3

Summary: Sam and Bucky are famous Youtube treasure hunters. When searching for treasure that may have part of insurance fraud, they don't expect the grandson of the accused to help out.

+++++++

“So, this time, we’re searching for the insurance fraud dump of Montgomery Stark.” Sam Wilson looks right at the camera. “Rumor is, about fifty years ago, Mr. Stark reported more than half of his heirlooms and precious jewels stolen, racking up millions in insurance money. No one ever knows because he died two months after he collected the money, but there are rumors that the man ‘stole’ the things and buried them somewhere off his property. We’re going to see if we can find it. Montgomery Stark was outlived by his son Howard Stark, who died about fifteen years go. Now, the face of the operation is his son, Tony Stark.” “But if we do find it, we’re not giving it to the insurance company because fuck them.” Bucky adds. “Also fuck Tony Stark, the asshole.” Sam motions to cut, and the camera turns off.

Anyone who watches their show knows that Bucky has a dislike for insurance companies. They have screwed him over too many times. He’s highly distrusting of any high power and is more likely to punch first and ask questions later when feeling threatened. But when it comes to doing things for the thrill or exploring anything haunted, he’s the first one to advocate for it.

 Sam, on the other hand, is a little more reasonable. He doesn’t exactly like people in power either, but he isn’t actively hating them. What he actively hates is horror, but he lets Bucky drag him into hunts for haunted treasure. He’s not sure why. Steve is. “Bucky, wasn’t Tony Stark the one who designed that awesome prosthetic?”

 “Yeah, but he’s a billionaire. Fuck him.”

 Sam shakes his head. “Ok, well, you can do that, but I’m going to research this a little more.” He gets up and doesn’t notice Bucky’s face behind him. Pulling out maps and the case files, Sam tries to figure out where the late Mr. Stark could have hidden his stash. Bucky sits at the table a few minutes later.

 “What do you want me to do?” He asks.

 Sam hands him the printed statements from everyone the police had interviewed while the case was open. “Here, read through these. See if anything looks useful.”

 Bucky gets to work, and Sam plots different coordinates into his maps. He’s not finding anything anywhere until Bucky slides over a paper that has the statement of Montgomery Stark’s housekeeper, a Madeline Foster. They first ask her if she was there the night of the robbery. She advised that no, she was not, as she starts work and 6am and leaves at 7pm each day. The robbery took place around 9pm. After clearing herself after a few more questions, they begin to interview her with the view of Montgomery Stark committing insurance fraud. She told them that she doubts he did because “Mr. Stark runs on a schedule that he hasn’t broken for the last fifty years.” Ms. Foster goes on to give the police Montgomery’s full schedule.

 “We can work with this. See where these places are. I wonder if any of these places has anywhere that he could have hidden it.” Sam grins.

 They both work on the case for a good five hours before they both call it a day. “We’ll get back to it tomorrow.” Bucky stretches. “Hey, Steve texted me, asking if I wanted to grab dinner. Wanna come?”

 “I don’t want to third-wheel if Steve wants it to be you two.” Sam isn’t sure why Bucky does this. Does he not want to be in a relationship with Steve, but he doesn’t know how to break up with him?

 Bucky’s eyes widen. “Sam, Steve and I, we’re like brothers. There is, never was, and never will be any romantic love between us. Only platonic and familial. Now, come on. I can even buy you dinner if that’s what you’re worried about.”

 “I can pay for my own.” Sam shoves him. “I’m not going to be your sugar baby.”

They meet Steve at their favorite local restaurant. He asks them about their newest project. When they tell him, he warns them, “The Starks can be pretty private. I knew Howard Stark before he died, and he was nice enough, but I didn’t really know anything about him.”

 Bucky swears. “It figures. If they hear anything about it, they’ll shut us down. Can’t stand to let us find out hidden family secrets.”

 “We’re not that big. I’m sure they won’t hear about it.” Sam tries to reassure them.

  ++++++++

Sam and Bucky try to find clues to help them figure out where Montgomery Stark might have hidden his treasure. After two weeks of no progress, they are wondering if they should just give up. They hear their secretary say something in a loud voice, and another voice answers her. “What’s going on out there?” Bucky wonders.

 “Sir, you can’t just walk back there! You need to book an appointment!” Darcy is getting closer.

 The other voice replies. “Relax. I just want to talk to them. I’m not going to hurt them. This door?” The door opens… and Tony Stark walks through.

 “Fuck.” Bucky mumbles. “Guess Steve was right.”

 Stark looks at them, then holds out his hand. “Hello, Mr. Wilson & Mr. Barnes, I presume? I’m Tony Stark, and I’m here to talk to you.”

 “Sam Wilson, sir. Nice to meet you.” Sam shakes it. “This is my colleague, Bucky Barnes.”

 “Ah, the first Stark Prosthetic. Does it meet your needs and expectations?”

 Surprised that Tony Stark would remember a name, Bucky stumbles over his words. “Y-yeah it works…. Um… pretty good, I I guess.”

 “Pretty good is not good enough. If we have time today (and you’d like), I would take a look at it for you. But that’s not why I’m here. I’m here because I heard wind that you were looking into Grampa Monty’s treasure.”

 “Do you have a problem with that?” Bucky challenges.

 Stark shakes his head. “No, I want to help you. The truth is, I fully believe that my grandfather committed insurance fraud. Which is kind of a dick move because 1.) my grandmother was so disturbed by the whole ordeal; she spent the rest of her life in bed. Not that he knew, I guess, because he died a few months after the robbery. Bad karma is my guess. Also, 2.) much of that stuff was my mother’s jewels from her family. He had no right to collect insurance on any of that, but he did. Now, I would like my mother’s belongings. I’m not sure how it works, but if I have to pay the insurance companies back, I will. If you have any clues, I will help you out in any way that I can.”

 “Are you ok with being videoed for the episode?” Sam asks. “We will have to get our lawyers to draw up a form for you to sign.”

 “Of course. I don’t want to be a bother. Take your time. Here’s my card. Please, give me a call when you can, and I will come down as soon as possible. Thank you for you time.” Stark nods and walks out the door. They can hear him thanking Darcy as he leaves.

  She comes in a few minutes later. “I’m sorry guys. He just wouldn’t take no for an answer.”

 “It’s ok Darcy. There was nothing you could do about it.” Bucky smiles at her. “Thanks for trying.”

 “I like what you do, and you guys pay me well.” She winks.

 When Darcy goes back to her desk, Bucky turns to Sam. “What do you think?”

 “I mean, he seems like he’s eager to help us.” Sam nods. “He can probably get us into different high-end things that we could not on our own. Want to call Matt and Foggy?”

 “Yes. I think they might have some good insight.”

 Sam calls their lawyers, Matt Murdock and Foggy Nelson, explaining the situation. They advise to make a strict NDA for Tony to sign. If he’s ok with it or only requests small changes (to be okayed by them), they would advise to go forward with Stark’s help. An NDA is drawn up and forwarded to Stark. He arrives the next day with it and another man in hand.

 “Everything looks good. It is signed and noted. Shall we start?” He questions.

 “Tones.” The other guy gives him a look.

 Smacking his forehead, Stark looks embarrassed. “Fuck. I forgot. Gentlemen, this is my boyfriend, Colonel James Rhodes. I call him Rhodey. Rhodey, this is Mr. Sam Wilson and Mr. Bucky Barnes.”

 “Nice to meet you,” The colonel says, shaking their hands. “Call me Rhodey.”

 “Rhodey signed the NDA as well, so you don’t have to worry about me trying to loophole something with him. We are going to do this with integrity.”

 Bucky and Sam give each other a look, both seemingly swept up in Tony Stark’s big personality. Rhodey notices and gives him a small shove. “Tones, this is their show. We’re just in the background pulling strings to help them.”

 “That’s right. Tell us where we need to be and what we need to do.”

 Sam takes control. “Thank you, gentlemen. If you want to take a seat at the table, we are just going through these papers with a fine-toothed comb to see if there’s anything we missed.”

 The cameras roll, and the four men go through the papers. Tony finds Ms. Foster’s statement, and he holds it up. “This could be huge. Let’s see… the house was robbed on a Tuesday. He probably would have stashed the loot in the next two days, wouldn’t you think?” He looks to the others for confirmation. “Ok, so his Wednesday schedule. Come down for breakfast at 6:30. Go into the office by 7. He wouldn’t have kept the stuff at the office because police did a full sweep of SI as well. Wednesday lunches were spent at La Palova. That’s a pretty exclusive restaurant with plenty of cameras. Let’s just say for now that it’s probably not there. Back to office by one, wow, he kept a really tight schedule. Old Monty left the office at 230 to golf at Emerald Isle. Tons of open land there. Be home by 730 for dinner. I mean, there’s time, but not much. Sorry, am I taking over here?”

 “No, you’re the only one who knows about this stuff, so keep going.”

 “Ok. Thursday schedule, almost the same. Gives himself an hour for lunch, but after work, he likes to drive in the canyon. He was too old for much exercise, I’d bet, but maybe he likes to watch the sunset? The sunsets there are beautiful. Also, a great place to hide not-really-stolen treasure.”

 Rhodey speaks up, “There’s also that little bend where we used to go to make out away from the house, remember? For a guy who spent his whole life driving the canyon, he should know all the ins and outs.”

 “Are you saying that we might have had sex on top of my mother’s heirlooms?” Tony shudders. “That’s creepy.”

 Bucky and Sam share that look again.  Sam shakes his head and puts his hands up. “Okayyyy… we do not need to know more. Remember, the camera is rolling. So, you think that Montgomery Stark hid the stuff in the canyon?”

 “I honestly think he hid it somewhere on the golf course. He owned shares in the course and the club, so technically, no one could ask him why he’s on any part of the land. I wonder if that got passed down.” Tony hums. “I think Monty would’ve thought that people would be suspicious of the canyon.”

 “Well, when we actually get our resources, we can split up into two bands. Mr. Stark, you can take one of us to the golf course. Rhodey, you can take the other to the canyon. There will be a lot of exploring to be done.” Bucky advises.

 Sam tacks on. “Yea, and we have more than one camera so we can film both of us at the same time.”

 By the end of the week, Sam and Bucky think they have the resources they need to scope out both places. They banter back and forth like normal throughout the week. As they’re arguing about who’s going to the golf course and who’s going to the canyon, when Tony asks, “Hey, I meant to ask you. How long have you guys been dating?”

 Bucky chokes and Sam coughs. “We’re… not… dating.” He says and looks at Bucky.

 “Oh, just fucking? Like friends with benefits?” Tony raises an eyebrow.

 Rhodey admonishes. “Tony, language. Camera is rolling.”

 “Ah, they’ll edit it out. Listen boys, if you’re not dating or at least screwing, you should. You got some serious charisma. Kind of like my honeybear and me.” He smooches Rhodey on the cheek.

 “Well, we’re not. End of discussion.” Bucky knows his face is bright red. He really likes Sam, and he thinks Sam likes him. However, he’s too afraid to make the first move. He doesn’t want to mess up the team dynamic.

 Tony smirks. “Whatever. I think I can answer your question, though. Due to the fact that old elitist country clubs are still pretty fucking racist, it might be better if I take Bucky. Unfortunately, there will be less suspicion, and we can get through a lot faster without someone trailing us at all times. You should have seen the last time I took Rhodey somewhere like that. I refused to go back.” He shudders. “I’ll see what I can do if we have to go back a second day, but…” Tony trails off.

 Sam slings an arm around Rhodey’s shoulders. “Don’t worry. We’ll have fun exploring the canyon and talking about you white boys.”

 “If you’re sure. I’m sorry we had to make a decision that way, you know?” Tony smiles sadly.

 +++++++++

The next day, Tony takes Bucky to the Emerald Isle golf course. They talk about this and that, but Tony notices Bucky is a little withdrawn. “Hey, you ok?” He asks.

 “Yea, I’m just trying to figure out what my friend would say if he found out I was hanging out with a billionaire today.”

 “Eat the rich kind of guy?” Tony knows a few of those.

 Bucky grins. “Yea. I am, too.”

 “Well, you surely aren’t pulling any punches. Do you have any questions for me?” Tony is genuinely interested. Barnes seemed like a level-headed kind of guy. He might have some good ideas for Tony to try.

 “I do, actually. How do you feel about making a difference in the world?”

 “I am very strongly for it, but I don’t always need my name on things, contrary to popular belief. They call me a billionaire because I earn billions annually. However, I and the company pay most of our taxes without using loopholes. Other than voting and lobbying a little, I can’t convince the government to do the right thing with the money. Yes, I do have multiple houses and cars, and I even own an island, but much of my money is sunk into various charities and funds around the world. Some have my name backing them, like the September Grants, but plenty of them are given anonymously so my accountant can’t get mad at me for not taking the tax breaks. So, yes, I do want to help change the world for the better, but I don’t want it to seem like I, myself made the world better.”

 Bucky just nods. They make small talk again until Tony brings up Sam. “I think he’s a great guy. You have a great co-worker in him.”

 “Yea, and he’s the love of my life.” Bucky sighs.

 Tony turns to look at him, and Bucky warns. “Eyes on the road.”

“I will.” Tony turns back. “But you love him? Why don’t you tell him? Do you know amazing your life would be?”

 “I don’t want to mess up our already good thing. I mean, I think he likes me, but what if he doesn’t? What if we date and then break up, and we can’t do this anymore? It’s not easy to find a job with a prosthetic.”

 “You could start your own channel. People like you enough. They’ll watch you.” Tony suggests. “But if you want it to last, don’t think about what will happen if it doesn’t.”

 “I’ll think about it.” Bucky mutters.

 Tony pulls into the Emerald Isle valet parking area. “We’re here.” He hands the valet his keys and tips him. “Follow me.”

 He leads Bucky to the manager’s office where he tells the man at the desk that he just realized he inherited the shares from Howard, and he’s looking over the property to see if he should buy more shares, sell these, or stay where I’m at. Do you mind if I take my guy and look around?”

 The manager stammers and acquiesces. He gives Tony keys to a golf cart and a map of the property. They start scouting, the camera guy sitting in the back of the cart. “You know what you’re looking for more than me.” Tony tells Bucky. Let me know if you want me to pull over somewhere.”

 ++++++ “So, how long have you and Tony been together?” Sam asks as Rhodey drives him down the interstate towards the canyon.

 Rhodey shrugs. “Nineteen, twenty years? We started dating when he was nineteen. I was twenty-one.”

 “You guys seem to have what it takes. I’m happy for you.” He wishes he and Bucky could have that, but he knows that Bucky doesn’t like him that way.

 “Thanks. Yea, Tony can be a complete dumbass eighty percent of the time, but he’s a loveable one, you know?”

 Sam nods. He knows someone like that. He sighs. If Bucky’s not for him, Buck’s not for him. End of story. He’ll find someone else at some point. “So, how’s life as a colonel? That’s got to be rough on your relationship, especially before DADT was repealed.”

 “I am happy with my job. I do get more leave because I date Tony Stark, who supplies the military with hi-tech equipment that can’t be weaponized. He won’t make them weapons of any sort anymore.”

 “I don’t blame him. Weapons manufacturing is not a business I’d like to be in.” The two chat about whatever comes to mind until Rhodes pulls off the road at a bend in the canyon.

 “Ok here. There are caves just beyond this bend. Most of them have never been explored. I’ll show you the ones we have definitely been in.”

 “Oh yes, now I’ll be imagining your sexploits.” Sam groans and Rhodey chuckles. “Now, we have to think… Montgomery was an old man at this point. There’s no way he could have dug very deep.”

 Rhodey mans the camera, and Sam grabs a shovel. They head toward the caves. Cave after cave, Sam checks the ground for any areas that may have been dug up and replaced. Those he did find were too small to hold anything like the stash the late Stark would have had. Further and further back they go until Rhodey is worried about the wall stability. “We should probably stay closer to the cave openings.”

 After going through all the caves and finding nothing, Sam relaxes back against the cave wall. “Whew. Maybe Tony was right. There’s nothing here.” The wall moves a little, and he jumps out. Turning, he and Rhodey see a 10” by 10” hold in the wall. Looking inside, they see a small pile of jewels and gold bars!

Sam whips out his phone to call Bucky just as his phone starts ringing. “Hello?”

 “Sam! We found some of the treasure! It was in a secret room in a shed near the edge of the property. It was all overgrown because no one has been there for years!” Bucky sounds very excited.

 “We found the rest! It was in a secret wall in one of the caves! Are you taking it with you today? We’re going to grab this stuff.” Sam is smiling widely.

 Putting on gloves, Sam slides all the treasures into a knapsack. Once done, they walk out of the cave. Rhodey looks back at it, squinting. “Tony’s not going to be happy about this.” He grins.

“Don’t tell me.” Sam warns. “I don’t want to hear it.”

 Rhodey drops Sam off at home. “Put that in a safe or something til tomorrow.” He warns. “Hey Sam, also, I don’t want to tell you what to do, but Barnes likes you, too. He makes heart-eyes at you all day. If your fans can see it, it’s there.” Sam nods and Rhodey drives off.

 ++++++ “So, friends, that’s how we found treasure and solved a crime in the episode!” Sam grins.

 “Also, when Tony asked the question of how long we’ve been dating, we have an answer for him now.” Bucky adds in. “It has been a week ago today.” Sam and Bucky kiss in front of the camera as the screen fades to black.

 “Wow, this episode got a lot of love,” Tony comments. “I’d like to think it was all me. Also.” He turns to Rhodey. “I can’t believe we blew each other right beside my mother’s jewels. I think her ghost is attached to those things. I may have scarred her for her entire afterlife.”

 “Tell me, does ‘Bam’ or ‘Sucky’ sound better as a ship name?” Bucky speaks up. “Twitter made a poll.”

 Sam swats at Bucky’s shoulder. “Tell them Sambucky. They should learn how to name things correctly.” They share a kiss again. Sam is happy he had the courage to talk to Bucky. Spending the rest of his life with this man sounds like a good idea.

[oathweave]

A Friend from Another Life

Someone else is here. She shot up, pulling out her wingman and glancing down the stairs, getting low to the ground- small and undetectable. They know you- they knew you. A chill shot up her spine, and her hand flew to her radio, only to find it blocked out by static. Of course, she thought. Glancing out a gap though the wall, she saw nothing. She jumped at a bug which flew by, before retreating back into the building- either out of preparation or pure fear.

[based off a convseration on discord, then started at 2am last night soo lmao]

Also on AO3!

Sent on a scouting mission for Loba, she held a hand on her Wingman and an ear out for, well, herself.

“It's familiar, here.” She thought. “What's the deal?”  Her quiet question echoed in her mind, no whispers from the void answering her question, suspiciously. “Fine, be like that.” The swamps of King's Canyon were peaceful at night, all the flyers asleep and bugs chittering about. It's peaceful- yet Wraith felt anything but. She stepped up through the ruined houses, water dripping through the floorboards above and pooling below the house. She grinned as she remembered downing Elliott here, both of them away from their squads to loot. She brushed the spot where he lay before returning to the dropship, and a crackle of electricity shot through her.

Someone else is here.

She shot up, pulling out her wingman and glancing down the stairs, getting low to the ground- small and undetectable.

They know you- they knew you.

A chill shot up her spine, and her hand flew to her radio, only to find it blocked out by static. Of course , she thought. Glancing out a gap though the wall, she saw nothing. She jumped at a bug which flew by, before retreating back into the building- either out of preparation or pure fear.

She took a breathe, clutching her gun in one hand firmly and preparing to void run out if she found herself outnumbered. "Okay. Best case scenario, no one's here. Worst…" Her thoughts trailed off, not knowing the worst case. The entire IMC-Hammond army? Shadow Revenant? "Breathe, Wraith. Focus." She took a hesitant step, moving down the stairs. The woman pointed her pistol at the door, then the other. She repeated this until she gently pushed the door open and quickly phased out of instinct. A strange, metallic glint below the water caught her eye, and she returned to reality and clicked on her radio. "Hey, Loba, I found something. I'll get back to you in a sec." She said, quiet and calm, though she was painfully aware of every sound. You were close, back then. Wraith stopped, shook her head and set up the scanner Crypto had given her with. The voices did this occasionally, played with her. Of course, the fighter had grown used to the occasional tease or quip from some other her. But this… this felt cruel, if they were joking. Wraith, once more, got low to the ground and reached for a weapon, this time her Kunai, knowing she'd give herself enough time to get away if she takes one person out with it. Beep! She quickly moved over to the scanner, and she dropped the screen as soon as she saw the results. There was a titan under there. A Ronin to be specific- IMC, but clearly abandoned. She turned the scanner onto the drill setting as Crypto told her to- and she dug down deep enough for the Titan to boot itself.

"If this titan attacks me and there's not even a grenade around here, I'm fucked." Wraith though, hands both of her on weapons."Wraith, any progress?" Loba's voice pierced the silence, but Wraith clicked off her radio-link and dropped it, as she heard the Titan make the first signs of being online.

"Ro… Ronin Unit... VW-9767… online." He said, his chrome paint obviously chipped away from ages of neglect. Wraith stood silent for a moment, waiting for any movement. Upon realising that it was unable to move she stepped forwards. "VW, um," She paused again, really not knowing what to say. "How long have you been here?" "Records show I have been stationary for the last… 1,857 days. 5 years, a month and two days. I have remained in a state of standby until my pilot's return." The Titan relayed back, and Wraith sighed. "Who… who is your pilot?" She asked, and it was unlikely she'd get back someone she knew, right? "My pilot is… Senior Research Pilot Renee Blasey." They said, unleashing a storm of whispers from the void. He knew you. You were close. He's low on power. You left him here. He's not a threat. "You… knew me? I was your pilot?" She asked, hesitantly. The Titan said nothing for a moment. "After running a scan on your vocal pattern, I can confirm that you are, indeed, my pilot." The titan shifted slightly, its arm trying to move out of the ground, to no avail. Wraith muttered a 'don't move' before moving to drill out the Ronin. "If I may ask, where have you been, pilot?" Wraith said nothing in reply, not sure how to say that she woke up in an IMC mental institution, was experimented on and then broke out and joined a bloodsport commissioned by Kuben Blisk himself. That's not so easy to explain. "I've, uh, I lost my memories a while back." She said lowly, even a little guiltily. "I'm sorry, VW. If I knew…" "I understand, pilot. Please, do not feel guilty on my behalf." VW replied, matching his pilot's low tone. "While you were gone, I was in a state of low power- much like sleep- but unfortunately, I am still in need of an extra battery." "Alright." She replied, stepping back and letting VW move out of the hole. Clunkily and slowly, the Ronin pulled himself out the hole and moved all his joints as to get rid of all the dirt which clogged them up. “Do you know where to get a battery, VW?” “Scanning the environment…” He paused, his sensors analysing the local surroundings. “There are none nearby. However, there seems to be a dropship incoming shortly to the west of here.” Wraith’s eyes shot up- before dashing over to the radio unit she dropped on the floor. “-raith?! Come in, Wraith!” Loba’s voice echoed down the radio unit, clearly anxious.

“I’m here.” She cooly replied, placing the radio unit in her ear. She hears a sigh of relief and a quiet “oh mon dieu” from Natalie, who assumedly rushed over to help find her. “Did you send a dropship out?”“We did, but I’ve only just left. You okay?” Bangalore’s voice met her, sounds of a ship in the background.

“Shit.” The smaller woman cursed, panicking. Someone else was after the titan- or her. “I’ll call you back.”

“Wai-” She cut off the radio, before pocketing it and glancing back at VW. “You have enough battery in case we need to fight?” She asked her titan, who replied, “Yes, though I don’t have too long before my last battery runs out.” She nodded stepping toward him. “Your helmet is in my cockpit.” He said before opening up, allowing Wraith to swing in and see the helmet. It was dark purple and had a small yellow triangle on it. She paused, realising it was the helmet the other Wraith was wearing when she was in the IMC headquarters. “Something wrong?” She smiled slightly. “No, not at all.” She slipped it on and sat in the seat, allowing VW to autopilot. She watched the HUD appear on the screen in front of her. Three statements appeared in red before disappearing again. Protocol 1: Link to Pilot Protocol 2: Uphold the Mission Protocol 3: Protect the Pilot “When was the last time you were in a titan, pilot?” VW asked, starting to move. Each step was slow and calculated- though there was improvement until VW got into his usual stride. “I haven’t.” She replied, adjusting to the movement. “Okay, our neural link will be suboptimal for a few days, but as long as you keep that helmet on, your link to me will calibrate and improve.” She nodded, feeling the link’s slight influence on VW’s movement. The dropship could be heard nearby but Wraith felt confident in her titan’s abilities. “So, tell me, pilot, is the IMC still a thing?” “Well,” She thought for a moment, memories rushing back to here and fleeting just as quick. “It’s, uh, complicated? I don’t work for them, if that’s what you’re asking.” “I see.” The titan was quiet, for a moment Wraith was scared the titan was about to turn on her before something appeared again. Protocol 2: Uphold the Mission - Unclear..? “Wraith, report!” Bangalore ordered, her radio crackling to life. VW scanned the radio briefly, before, “I have linked your radio to your helmet, pilot.” “Holy SHIT, IS THAT A TITAN?!” Bangalore shouted, dropship looming above. “It’s a long story, Bangs. I’ll explain at Elliott’s.” She replied, seeing a dropship hovering over the Hydro Dam. “Where are you?” “Over the ARES Capacitor, why?” You’re being looked at.“Fuck. VW, cut through those trees-” She ordered, her link too weak to take full control. She looked back, and she saw that they were attracting attention. “-go, NOW!” He picked up the pace, wobbling slightly but following his orders instantly. Wraith felt a calming feeling and assumed it was VW’s response to her nerves. Picking up the pace, he neared the Capacitor, and Bangalore waved them over, surprise evident on her face.“Wraith, I hate to tell you this, but there is no fucking way that Ronin is getting on here.” Bangalore stated, and Wraith hummed in the affirmative.“Pilot, if I may suggest something?” VW asked.“Sure, go on.” “If you eject my AI core, then you may upload me into a newer titan later on.” Wraith hummed, considering it for a moment before going.“Yeah, that sounds like a plan.” She stood slightly, allowing VW to let her out before she stood in front of him, allowing him to kneel down.“And Pilot?”“Yeah?”“Thank you for finding me. I… I missed you.”Wraith smiled and placed a hand on his eye. Gently, she felt it push against her hand and she pulled it out, along with the SERE Kit. Bangalore gave a low wolf whistle as Wraith pulled off her helmet,  and took the SERE Kit from her.“Haven’t seen one’ a these for a long time. FNG’s would always try an’ steal from the titans.” The soldier said, pulling out the smart pistol briefly, and putting it back in. “So, how long were you gonna hide you were a pilot?”“I didn’t know, Bang. Apparently, I was a ‘Senior Research Pilot’, which explains a few things, I guess.” Bangalore nodded, having too much respect for Wraith to push any further. “Well, let’s get you back, and then we’ll figure out how to get you a chassis.”Wraith nodded, before taking one look at her old titan and her helmet before stepping onto the dropship.

[moxazza-blog]

A hand in play

As trading card inspector settled in Southern Dakota, you are on your way to judge the symposium in your city, there have been some judgings that you've been unable to get to, but you're feeling fresh and in with the sport. The first thing you do is rearrange your trading card folder. It's a lot of work, but you figure you can make the most out of this time by getting all the information on your cards and putting them into one place. These cards you have accumulated as of the most newish seem to fly off the trading card stock, bloomingly. Well, you get to the symposium, and are quite surprised to find that Jacob is there. "Dude, I went to your house…you're here." "Been here the whole time, man. Didn't know you'd be here though. You like what you see?" You say "Some of these were downright from the last collection, friend" "Yeah, the last collection you had was a good one." Jacob grins, and continues to think for a second. "Oh yeah! Speaking of good ones…I got another one for you!" You say "oh yeah?" Jacob stands up and extends a folder, which you take. "It's about 90% complete. You in?" Your eyes widen "Hell yeah!" This is gonna be awesome! There's about a two page spread of the new collection, which you can't help but grin at as you flip through it. The images are all in color and crystal clear. You say "hey, Jacob, I've been meaning to tell you this, but I think I might have a world record in some of my newer cards.." Jacob looks up from the folder. "Yeah? Go on." You grin with anticipation "I've got the youngest person to own a katorm!" Jacob looks at you with surprise. You say "Yeah, and if that isn't overzealous enough I've also got the.." Jacob continues to look at you, with a surprised look. "The what?" You put on your best look of seriousness. "the Tallest man to own a katorm!" Jacob says "wow, that is really amazing. do you think that anybody besides me would truly care? Or would they just think I was just being arrogant." "I wouldn't be surprised if someone else has the same record, I was only able to get to like, 3 people taller than me before they stopped measuring. You say "well, let's get on down to the central seating" You look over the map once more, and make your decision. "Jacob, come on let's go see the new cafeteria!" as the two walk on down to the cafeteria, a moment strikes you when you waddle onto an ownerless folder of some cards. You pick it up and flip through the pages, some of which have missing images, but most are still there. Suddenly, you get that chills you always get when looking at some of the rarest, most valuable cards in the world. You say "holy shit, would you take a look at what I've just found!" Jacob is as impressed as you are amazed. "That's, that's insane! How the hell did you find a set of World Record folders?" You grin widely, as Jacob slowly opens the folder. "God, I can't believe it!" As Jacob reads through the folder, you continue to flip through the cards. "These are listed at 1,000,000,000,000 Valparasio Gold Coins." "Whoa." "That's not a misprint, that's real money!" Jacob begins to flip through the folder with you. you just decided to jump on out of there, even before someone else might see you, and attack your kingsly loot. You get to the next train, with haste. The two of you ride down to the next station, Jacob slowing down to make his way through the forest of people. You say "this is a really kingsly ransom. once you've owned it for more than a couple of minutes, you'll really get to cataloging it" Jacob grins from ear to ear. "I can't wait to come back here and see how much I've grown to have." You chuckle. "Well me too." You say: "but the foremostly me, Jacob, my dear friend" Jacob puts the folder in his pocket and continues to make his way through the crowd. "Well, we should get on down to the next station before it starts getting dark. You shrug your shoulders as the two of you make your way down to the next stop. Soon, the two of you are on the platform for the last stop on the line. A single light burns there, illuminating the shapes of the few people on the platform. "Well, this is it. our stop." Jacob says. "Yeah. I should get off here." You say "do note, not to take any of the come upping to another trading carder" Jacob seems a bit worried. "But why, why would I need to do that!" You raise an eyebrow, and lean in a little closer. You say: "because you want to" You lean in a little closer. "Because this is a really rare folder, and I've become the one to take it." Jacob looks down, shuffling his feet a bit. "Well.. okay." You nod your head slowly, as if to say 'thank you.' Then, you nod again. Soon enough, you were both at Jacob's place. You hopped out of the carriage, and waved it down the road. As you walk with Jacob towards his house, you find yourself twisting the folder in your hands. Looking it over, and over again. Truly the most happenstance day that you've had, and in equal parts most frightening and exciting. A rare feeling of happiness washes over you. "So, uhm…." Jacob begins, a bit nervously. "Do you mind if I ask what your plan is?" Well, I am immediately going to take some of the higher esteemed cards and exchange them for money. One by one, as I set footing into truly owning this collection. I plan to use it as my primary source of money, as I'm sure it will be for years to come. You show no signs of stress, as Jacob continues to speak. Then, you get to work. You begin selling the most prized cards slowly, making sure to always keep at least one of each batch. Then one by one the tale was told next to the several month inning, you were spending lavishly, and had more money than ever did you did have. You loosened up a bit at this. Then, you finally got around to selling your own collection. After a few weeks, you had made enough money to pay off your father's debt, and go off to further pursue your dreams of becoming a trader. On along, there was a symposium that came and left, but you were up to the right next one after that. Jacob in compliance. You stopped for a break at one of the rest stops along the way, and Jacob begins to do some sell in his left hand. "So.. ?" He looks up at you, smiling. You say "good trading day? Man, let me tell you, I've been having it flushed" Jacob laughs, raising his hand. "Nah, man. It's been alright. Some good, but some bad too. You'll see in a while." Backing a nack you were on to seeing the second presentation, and it turned out you were the second to present. You got up there and began to tell the crowd about the folder, exchanging glances with Jacob who gave you the 'get to work' glance at the right time. Sparing no expanse at relaying whatever it was about each card, but limiting yourself fully in accordance with having found this set at that time. It was a success, and the crowd loved it, giving you a loud round of applause when you were done. Next up it was Jacob's turn to get up and tell the crowd about his findings, and you couldn't help but feel a bit of anxiety as people listened with bated breath to what he had to say. He went up beaming, like you had done before you. "The files, a set of trading cards that have been around for more than a century, and we have found them!" He paused, looking around at the crowd. You say "Oh god, what has he done now!" "We have found the copy of the first bend set!" You heard someone in the crowd exclaim, and you saw Jacob jump a little. "Yeah!" You say "This was down to the nitty gritty what with this ole storymanship." Jacob looks at you briefly, before continuing. "We have found the first collection of trading cards, with the first bend set on them!" He's exclaiming it fully now, in direct inaccordance with what you have explained. "We have found the very first set of trading cards made for the sole purpose to be used as a part of a pack of playing cards!" You say "Oh no he has gone on and done it! Shit, we better get out hastily." Jacob nods. You say "This was Jacob fully explaining about the dastardly event we were meant to keep secret" Jacob pauses for a second, before smiling at you. "Told you it was all going to work out." You smile back, relieved that your friends confidence in you and his decision had paid off for him. Or so it was most to see…. "And now, I got something special for you guys." Jacob announces. You get the impression he's talking about more than just this find. "What is it?" You ask, as Jacob stands up. "You'll see in a minute." With that cryptic answer, Jacob makes his way off the stage, and towards the back of the room. "What's going on?" Someone asks. "Hush!" The man behind the desk says, looking around before standing up and walking towards the exit. The room is silent, as you begin to wonder what the hell Jacob has managed to find. You see a man walk onto the stage, and you frown, knowing who it is. "Hello." He says, looking out at the audience. There's an awkward silence, which you try to break. "Um, Harvey Kielling is here?" You say. "Yes, and correct you if you can." He smiles. Once more, this was down to the nitty gritty. Was he really the owner of the cards? It can't be. But then, he's been everywhere the cards have, and that includes London. He owns a store that specializes in them, and he has written books on the subject, at least two of which you've read. He will not ask for them back, as so it figures. You sigh in relief and say "Righto! That about does it, as you call for Jacob to leave." "Right!" You say, standing up. "I'll do the talking, you call for Harvey and tell him that we're leaving." Jacob nods nervously. "Right, I'll go get him." You nod, as Jacob quickly leaves the stage, and heads down the isle. You watch him go, before turning to look at the crowd of people watching you. They all seem to be enjoying themselves, but this does nothing but make you feel self-conscious. You look at the man who runs the museum, he's taking notes on a little pad, oblivious to what everyone else there is thinking. He spots you looking at him, and winks before returning to writing. You say "Say, is Jacob even going to amount to this plea." Jacob foots strongly toward Harvey, this was down to the lively wire. Once he had asked him for the cards, you had a decision to make: Help him, or let him take the fall and lie about how he came to have the cards. You had thought it through. Since you were up to it, these first ever set of trading cards were printed in at least a duplicate, so it'd take some guts to explain away. Jacob had a reputation for getting caught doing stuff by his parents, and this was no exception. He would lie, and claim he had found the cards, along with claiming you had stolen them. Well, he did. and as much bad luck as that was, it wasn't going to stop you. Jacob looked up at Harvey, who looked down at him, then back at you. "Harvey?" He says in a quavering tone. Harvey looked like he was going to go postal, but then gave a little smile. "Jacob, you scared me there." He chuckles. "Jacob, you snuck out of the house and came all this way here I caught you red handed with my cards. I think it's only natural to assume I'll press charges. But, since I am a nice guy, I'm going to let you give them back to me. Not right now though, I think you know what that means. Without me hearing a word, the two had their bargain up, to quote. You weren't exactly sure what was going to happen, Harvey had a very intimidating stare, but Jacob had no fear. Soon as Jacob came down around, he found it very explanatory to confess, but he rather held his pose. "Well" you said, "let's get on out while we still can." You take your leave of the museum, with Jacob hobbling along behind you, and soon as you were out in the open, you snapped him back. Snapped back the camarader. "How long till we get home?" You ask. Jacob thinks for a second at his answer. "Oh, about a hour and a half." Half an hour too right, and we were up to my station of the neighborhood. Now, who would have guessed it, besides Jacob, that Harvey Kielling was there in turn to accomplish setting down the feat of having his cards returned. Many of them you had sold already. But, in a little while you made it home, as the sun was beginning to lower. Then you gangplanked into him. Harvey Kielling in all his right. You say "So, is this going to come down to a fight, or a lawyer mess, both of which you would sorely lose?" You're a teenage delinquent that recently broke into the house of the rich kid, and you've stolen some really nice things… You make that your point right there. "Look," you say, "You make it sound like I don't have a choice." "You don't. But you sure do have a choice of how you're gonna do it." Hmm… Jacob looks at you. "You think you can handle him?" You think for a second. "Well… " You say "Yes." You nod your head. "Okay then, let's do it." Jacob nods slowly, but his smile returns and he grins. "Well then, let's go!" As you thunderbluss the old man, right there on the street corner, nothing had felt this right since bestowing most of the collection on Ebay. You had tackled the old man to the ground, and were in the process of snapping his neck when a voice from behind had stopped you. "What are you doing? Get off!" Jacob said. You spit on Harvey and get on up to your apartment. Like a nimble navigator unsurely getting back to his cocoon.. You were to return home. Harvey was not a trouble for the next week or two. He had then hired a cracker team of private eyes to find you. You never stayed at this place again, and whenever possible, you would stay out of the city or go someplace you have never been before. Ransoming were there to find you three days after you ran your first and only foreclosure operation. It was a one hit wonder. Harvey had gotten everything you had stolen back… And then some… In a dilated money pack, that was. You reminisce of that time at your friend's place. The night is still as black as the heart of the spider. Jacob finds that he has a chuckle or two to spare… You say "That there was the ransom. And I would've gotten to keep this sudden influx of new money, had you just not gone off and telling everybody back there at the colloquium. Which, I am in fact, not going to stick you with." "What?" Harvey says, looking at you. "I don't understand…" "Yeah you do," Jacob smiles. You say "Says it. No wonder" "Oh… Really?" You find yourself laughing out loud, and have to put your hands over your mouth to contain them. "What's so funny?" "That." You chuckle. You say "That, this whole thing. Saved by an Ebay bid. It's comic." Jacob shakes his head and mutters to himself, "So, it seems." That your friend finds himself a bit more at ease in this encounter says it all. Done was it.

[tjkiahgb]

Episode Recap: 3.16, “One Girl’s Trash”

I love when this show deals with serious topics. Just lays out a minefield and dares me to make jokes around it. Guns? Fine! Homophobia? Sure! Racial stereotyping? Let’s do it!

I mean, no, wait, it looks like I’m saying “let’s do racial stereotyping.” Please don’t do that! It’s bad! I’m saying let’s make jokes about the episode which contains... oh forget it, I’m just going to start the recap. Nobody quote me out of context, okay?!

Anyway, remember how the gang was criminals last episode? Well, the justice system works and it works fast.

Andi, Buffy, Cyrus, and Jonah, as part of their community service for garbage theft, pick up trash in a ditch.

Well, they pick up about one in every five pieces of trash. The rest of it they just kind of leave behind.

Cyrus’s allergies are killing him. Buffy’s foot is killing her. Jonah’s miserable. Everyone’s having a bad time.

Well, everyone except Andi, who’s treating this trip through a trash-filled ditch like a trip to the crafts store.

What kind of madman just tosses a pile of paper towel tubes in a ditch? You’d have to have been saving up paper towel tubes. For a while, too, because there’s seven of them, and it takes me like at least a month to go through that many paper towels.

So you go through a roll of paper towels and go, okay, I’m going to hold onto the tube for some reason. A month passes and you go through another roll. Another month, another roll. Seasons pass. You keep stacking up the tubes. They’re piling up in your kitchen. One day, seven-plus months into your project, you look at the tubes and decide, you know what, I’m going to take my tubes for a walk today. So you put on, I don’t know, I assume a full three-piece suit and top hat, and you’re walking down the street, cradling your stack of paper towel tubes and suddenly, you see it. A ditch. A ditch full of trash. You look at the trash. You look at your tubes. Your beautiful tubes. The tubes you’ve dedicated the last half-year of your life to collecting and then you decide, this is it. This is what I’ve been saving them for. I finally know their purpose. And then you full body huck them into the ditch and walk away.

What I’m saying is, if I’m Andi, I’d leave those tubes alone, because the lunatic who did this is still out there, and they might come back for them.

Andi stops and asks if it’s okay for them to keep all this garbage.

Sure would’ve saved them all a lot of trouble if anyone bothered to ask this last week, but at least we know their rehabilitation is working. They’re using their brains now and thinking through their actions, and that’s how you prevent repeat offenders.

They all head to The Spoon after putting in three hours of hard time. Andi brings her bag of trash and sits it at the table.

Why not? It worked for Trash Can Buffy.

If I ran The Spoon, I’d stop this right here and right now. First they brought in a trash can. Now they’re bringing in literal bags of trash. You don’t put an end to this and next thing you know they’ll be dumping their garbage from home on the floor. These kids are going to single-handedly knock your health code rating down to a C.

Jonah excuses himself to go talk to Amber. He tells her he won some tickets from a radio show to a Go Kart track.

Which is a weird contest. Don’t most radio shows give away like, VIP passes to concerts?

“You’re tuned in to 95.4. Other stations may get you backstage to meet Beyonce, but we’re the only station in town that’ll get you day passes to Racer’s Edge! Limit two rides. But if you ask the food vendor real nice and tell him that Beardo and the Hound Dog sent ya, he might give you a free pretzel! His name is Greg. He’s a cool dude. Aw aw awwwooooo! *a series of wacky stock sound effects* *someone saying 95.4 four different ways*”

Amber is thrilled anyway. She’s excited to be getting anything from Jonah.

Amber quickly recovers by saying she “would love to” and is saved from getting any follow up questions only by the grace of having said that to Jonah, who has no interest in such things.

Jonah returns to the table, where he learns Buffy is hangry. Now, I’m not up to date on all the new young folk slang, but I do believe that’s when you feel a bit like an airplane hangar. “I’m feeling very large building with an extensive floor area, typically for housing aircraft right about now.”

Amber comes over and slaps the check down on the table. Andi’s like, we haven’t ordered. Amber says it’s a preliminary estimate. Andi’s like, that doesn’t make sense but Amber plays it cool.

JUST READ THE PAPER AND DON’T TELL YOUR FRIENDS WHAT IT SAYS AND COME OVER AND TALK TO ME. I mean, let me get you all some bread to start.

Andi reads the secret note. It says to meet Amber in the back. Now. Andi excuses herself to go talk to Amber.

Watch my bag, she says, like someone’s going to make off with the loot. A thieving opportunist who sees a chance to add to their collection of worthless junk makes a daring dash, snatches the bag off the chair, and flees the restaurant in a bold heist. Gone in seconds.

Or maybe she’s just worried someone from The Spoon is going to do their job and throw the bag in the dumpster where it belongs.

Andi makes her way to the back and talks to Amber. Amber tells Andi she told Jonah she loves him. To which Andi is like...

...but in an empathetic way.

Andi’s like, you said those words? Amber says unintentionally but Jonah still smiled anyway.

Andi says that’s just what he does. That he’s the only known person with resting happy face. That his demeanor is almost always one of joy. And not just any joy. The sort of vacant joy where you try to look behind the eyes to figure out what he’s thinking but there’s nothing really going on back there. He’s happy just to be alive, and doesn’t want to, or perhaps can’t, think about it much more deeply than that.

Amber’s like, whether that’s true or not, he didn’t recoil in horror when I said it, so that’s a victory in my book. And looking to build off that victory, Amber asks Andi what would happen if she said she loved him for real.

Amber wants to know how it could be a bad thing to say you love someone. I mean, one answer might be if you’ve been in a middle school relationship with that person for only like, a couple weeks, and they’re notoriously weird about commitment and you don’t want to freak them the heck out.

Amber is undeterred. She decides she’s going to do it and she thanks Andi for encouraging her to go for it.

At Bex’s, Bex washes dishes. Bowie comes in and realizes she’s not wearing her engagement ring. Bex took it off while doing the dishes so it wouldn’t fall in the drain. This makes Bowie wonder, should they even still be wearing engagement rings when they aren’t engaged? Bex is like, they’re love rings and Bowie agrees to keep them.

At school, Andi’s class has been gathered in a circle of learning for an assignment from their teacher. They’ve each been given a slip of paper with a classmate’s name on it and have to describe their classmate without saying their name or using what they look like.

Andi volunteers to go first. Her classmate is from Philadelphia.

This kid figures out she’s talking about him.

This is a bad assignment.

I mean, even not going into what comes next, it’s a bad assignment. The teacher is doing this to prove the students are more than how they look on the outside, but by making the other kids pretend to be each other, you’re making them hit the most basic things they know about the other person.

Harris is going to go home tonight and think about how all one of his classmates had to do to pretend to be him was go, “Look at me, I’m a nerd from Philadelphia!” He’s going to be lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, thinking, I knew it. I knew I mentioned I had a twitch channel to people too many times! C’mon, Harris! Get your head in the game. Better burn my Phillies t-shirt first thing in the morning.

So what did we learn? If you look at Harris, you might think: nerd, but once you really get to know him, he’s actually quite into graphic novels. Checkmate.

And let’s be honest, this is like the best the assignment was going to go. The worst the assignment could go?

Well, popular girl Kristina takes her turn. She’s like, oh, I don’t really know this girl. Um, there was the party she threw one time. That was cool.

Struggling to come up with a second thing, Kristina decides to dive head first into racism.

She says the person is probably good with computers.

Kristina, no!

Harris immediately steps in to throw himself under the bus as well.

Harris, no!

Andi’s like, no, that’s not me, but the teacher checks the slip of paper she gave Kristina and it is, in fact, Andi Mack.

I can’t believe how much Kristina just went for it. If I don’t know a thing about Andi and I’m sitting there, looking at her and pretending to be her, I fail the assignment before I jump to stereotypes.

“I like red sweaters and pants with holes at the knees?”

And if the teacher’s like, “Don’t use physical stuff,” then I go right to generic.

“I like certain types of weather, and hanging out with my friends and/or loved ones, and I don’t like car accidents or famine.”

And if I’m still being pressed to continue after that, I fake passing out. Or just keep going like, “And I... and I, um... and I-eee...” like I was thinking of something else but I’d try to make “And I” sound more and more like Andi and hope someone bails me out. I am the most popular girl in middle school, after all. People like me. They want to help me in the hopes that I’ll pay them attention. Perhaps let some of my popularity rub off on them so they may know what it feels like. God, to have such power. What I would’ve done with such power.

Anyway, point is, you had so many options, Kristina!

Later at Andi Shack, Andi tells Buffy and Cyrus about what happened. She says Kristina just thought, Andi’s Asian, so here’s a list of Asian girl things.

Andi says Ms. Frankel used it as a teachable moment about stereotypes, which, let’s be honest, is what she wanted all along. What was the point of the lesson if not to pivot to that discussion?

Andi’s upset people don’t see her as more than that. Cyrus, on his third straight episode now of questionable takes following “Bex and Bowie are manipulating you by saying your feelings are valid,” and “We should consider Mint Chip’s side of this argument as a business,” says that maybe Kristina thought she was complimenting Andi.

Okay, in fairness, that’s true. Kristina isn’t a malicious racist, she’s just a big ol’ dum dum.

Andi feels disappointed that while these kids have known her for years, they’ve never really known her. She decides to do something about it.

That night, Bex returns to the apartment to the smell of Bowie baking a four cheese lasagna.

I feel like I’m intruding on these two in this scene. I should go.

Andi’s not going to be there that night, so it’s just a romantic dinner for them.

First though, Bowie wants to know what they should do with Celia’s snow globe gift. He suggests putting it in a couple of places in the living room. Some are too visible, some too invisible.

Bowie’s like, maybe we can stow this shame globe away in Andi’s room?

The oven dings and the lasagna bails them out from having too much more of this awkward conversation.

Cyrus stops by Andi Shack that night with a box of stuff to help with Andi’s project, whatever it is. Andi still doesn’t know yet. She’s in the gathering stage.

Cyrus gives her the prison jumpsuit.

And the social experiment wristbands.

And the wig he wore at the party.

Oh, would you look at that, a very minor trip down memory lane and it’s already poking me in the heart. It’s all downhill from here, folks.

The next day at Racer’s Edge, Jonah and Amber do some racing.

Amber beats Jonah badly. She laps him. Which is sort of what you’d expect from her. She has that kind of aggressively-fast-driver energy. You know she’s going to wear out the horn once she starts driving real cars, and her car will absolutely have one of those overly antagonistic bumper stickers that says something like, “Drive FASTER or get out of MY WAY!”

Jonah tells Amber she’s so fun to hang out with. She sees this as her opportunity. She tells him she loves him, but is drowned out by passing karts. She tries again.

Jonah’s like, what? You want to race again? Okay! And off they go, leaving a lot of food on the table.

I hope they come back for that.

Later, Amber tells Andi what happened.

Andi says it’s maybe for the best Jonah didn’t hear her say love. Once you let the love thing out of its cage, there’s no putting it back in. Amber doesn’t want to mess up this relationship. She gets what Andi’s saying.

Andi walks down main street and spots Jonah inside Red Rooster. She heads inside and asks him for a frisbee.

Andi asks if he wants to go to The Spoon to hang out, but he doesn’t want to in case Amber’s there. Andi asks why he’s avoiding her.

Jonah tells her he heard Amber say love, but just pretended he didn’t, which I absolutely love. It’s the long con! Dude’s been oblivious for 14+ years, permanent smile on his face. Everyone knows this about him. So when the time came to deal with something he didn’t want to, what did he do? He kept the dumb smile on his face and played oblivious! And no one suspected a thing! It’s brilliant! He doesn’t realize how much in life he can get away with like this.

He’s worried though that he’s used up his “I didn’t hear you” excuse, so what’s he going to do next time?

Jonah thinks sooner or later though, he’s going to have to respond.

I honestly think Jonah can play this out as long as he wants. He just has to keep up the distractions. I lived with a family for three years by convincing them I was their cousin, and every time they asked me how specifically I was related to them, I’d say I had to go to the bathroom or needed a nap and then I’d disappear for two days. It worked like a soft reset. When I’d finally return, they’d have other questions for me, but not about my identity. Jonah can keep this up with Amber, he just has to commit.

Andi’s like, just because Amber said love, doesn’t mean you have to. Jonah’s like, hell yeah I don’t.

Honestly, good for him. Better than lying about your feelings just to appease her temporarily.

Jonah wants to know why it can’t just be fun instead of love. Andi says that for some people, it’s the same. Jonah’s like, well, if that’s what it’s going to be, I’m going to have to break up with her.

At Celia’s, Bex and Bowie run into each other. Bowie’s doing plant stuff. Bex is getting her wedding dress to return it. Bowie’s kinda surprised to hear that, but then he’s like, yeah, yeah, guess that makes sense, it’s just too bad I never got to see it.

Bex agrees to show it to him. Bowie turns to put something down and when he turns back...

Bowie loves the dress, and what’s more, he wanted to see Bex in the dress, and he wanted Andi to wear the dress when she gets married, and now none of this is going to happen because the wedding is off.

Bex wants to know why he didn’t say something before. Bowie thought he made it clear through his actions that he really wanted to marry her. Bex said he told her it was okay when she said they shouldn’t get married. He says it is okay because it’s what she wanted and he wants her to be happy. She wants him to be happy, too. He is happy, he just didn’t realize what seeing the dress was going to do.

Bowie excuses himself. Bex is left to think about some things.

At school, Andi has laid out her project.

Several questions.

1. Where did she construct this whole thing? Did she make this in Andi Shack? There’s no room! Did she make it in the backyard and move it to school?

2. Where did she get these giant panes of glass? They look expensive. And whether she moved the entire thing to the school from home, or brought all this stuff to school and assembled it there, this all looks incredibly heavy. Did she hire people to help her because I can’t imagine her doing this all by herself.

3. Did she get permission to put this in the middle of school? I would think so (hope so), but I just want to check to make sure someone knew this was happening ahead of time. Because, otherwise, a huge, mysterious object showing up in the middle of school with “DO YOU SEE ME NOW?” written on it multiple times feels vaguely threatening.

Kinda supervillain-ish.

And if I saw those paper towel rolls in the pile of stuff, I’d really start to panic. I’d think Paper Towel Tube Man was leaving the school a message.

Final question.

4. Why are Buffy and Cyrus dressed like they’re background dancers in a ‘90s R&B music video?

They look like they’re trying out for the school’s stage production of an old episode of Saved by the Bell.

I guess it’s fitting. Andi fashioned a bunch of garbage into an art project, and Cyrus and Buffy fashioned several different articles of clothing into new tops.

I’m just sad about how many neon predatory cats had to die to make Buffy’s, though I appreciate Cyrus making use of old wallpaper for his shirt instead of discarding it.

Anyway, they’re slightly confused about what they’re looking at. Andi tells them they have to see it from a different angle. She leads them upstairs.

They look down and see the project. They’re amazed.

No, it’s an Andi self-portrait.

This girl in the red is hands-on-chest amazed even though she has no idea what she’s looking at.

Well, either that, or she’s in tremendous fear about what this pile of garbage left in the middle of school means.

Andi’s teacher congratulates her on her project. So do Cyrus and Buffy.

And with just four episodes left to go, she might just be right.

[spooky-scary-imagines]

heyo! could you write something for michael / billy / stu / and any other slasher you think would be good - about their s/o who has a really bad stutter (and who possibly might be bullied or something of the nature) your work is really good and ahh!! i needed to see a stuttering mess in a work to make me happy about my own stutter

((Totally! I hope these lil drabbles help cheer you up some! And remember, never feel bad about your voice. It’s not the way you talk that matters, it’s the words and the feelings behind them. I’d write for all of them if I could but I decided to add Bubba, Norman, and Chop-Top for this one cause two of them have a stutter (though Chop-Top’s ain’t as strong and Norman’s is more due to anxiety and therefore written different) and the other is just always v good. They’re also some of my favorites so I’ll always love writing them lol. Btw I tried my best to write a stutter accurately but, like always, I want to make sure I didn’t write anything offensive or inaccurate so let me know if there’s anything along those lines. Also, this is long af so I added a read-more.

Various slashers s/o with a stutter:

Michael:

“M-M-Michael d-d-don’t do this,” you pleaded. He stared at you emotionless, as he plunged the knife back in.

“P-P-please! You-You pr-promised!” He ignored you and pulled the knife in and out of the now-mutilated flesh.

”Y-Y-You sa-said you would w-w-wait! It’s n-n-n-not e-even  H-Halloween!” He reached in and pulled out a mass of slimy guts and pulp, then gestured to you to take it. You held out your hand and took his offering, mildly disgusted.

You went to a kitchen drawer and pulled out a gallon Ziploc bag, dumping the handful inside. “H-Here. We-we’ll j-j-j-just save s-some and I’ll m-make something w-w-w-with it l-later.” Michael set the knife off to the side and lifted up his current “project” as if presenting it for your approval. You rolled your eyes, but smiled anyway.

“Yes, i-it’s a b-b-b-b-beautiful J-Jack O’Lantern, M-Michael. B-B-But it’s gon-gonna r-rot if we p-p-put it out n-now!” But even as you say it you know you might as well break out the tea candles.

Billy:

Once the bell rang, you nearly ran out of the classroom to your locker. You glowered as you replaced the books from your previous class with the ones for your next. You slammed the door shut to see your boyfriend standing behind it, a wicked, yet charming smirk on his face.

“Boo.” You just rolled your eyes.

“N-Not in the m-m-mood.”

His brow furrowed at that, usually you were more happy to see him. “What’s up babe?” his eyes looked around defensively at your fellow classmates wandering the halls, “Some punks giving you shit again?”

“N-No…” you sighed, “The t-teacher c-c-c-called on me in c-c-class today to r-r-read. Asshole kn-knows I d-d-don’t w-wanna t-talk in front of ev-everyone.”

Billy scowled at that, “What a fucking prick. Want me to teach him something?”

You hesitated for a moment, he was a jerk, but no. “D-D-Don’t w-worry ab-b-bout it B-Billy…He’s-he’s j-j-just doing hi-his job…”

“Hey,” Billy gripped you reassuringly by the shoulders, getting you to look him in the eyes, “Never let nothings like that make you think less of yourself baby. You’re amazing just the way you are.”

You almost felt yourself well up at his thoughtful words. Sometimes he shocked you with how sweet he could be. You nodded, and leaned into hug him.

He returned the embrace, and you felt him lean down to whisper into your ear, “You wanna just ditch and watch movies at my place?” A very tempting offer you may just take him up on.

Stu:

“H-H-Hello? Wh-Who’s this?”

“Do you like scary movies?”

“Ha Ha, very f-f-funny. Wh-Who’s th-th-th-this? F-for real.”

“I’m the scary killer outside your window…”

“Oh s-s-sure. I b-bet,” sarcasm and annoyance dripping from your words, “Quit b-being a creep R-R-Randy.”

“It’s not Randy. That your boyfriend?”

At that comment, you started to get an idea of who your mysterious caller was, but decided to play along. “N-Nah, b-b-but I d-do h-have one.”

“Oh yeah,” the voice giggled, “And what’s he like? Bet he wouldn’t like you talkin’ to lil ole me.”

“P-p-probably n-not, b-b-but he’s not h-here. And you h-h-haven’t h-hung up.”

There was a pause on the other end, then a huff. “You never answered my first question.”

“Oh? Th-that th-thing ab-b-bout s-scary movies? Yeah, I l-l-like ‘em”

“What’s your favorite scary movie?”

You hesitate for a second, while it would be fun to keep this going, you feel like upping the ante a bit. “I d-d-don’t know. H-How ab-b-bout you c-come up h-here and w-w-watch o-one w-with me?”

“What about your boyfriend?”

“C-C-Come on M-Mister K-K-Killer, h-he c-can join. I th-th-think you kn-know w-where t-to find h-him.”

You heard a shuffling on the other end and then the call abruptly ended. You sat in silence for a moment, curious about what would happen next. A familiar rapping sound came from outside your window. You pulled back the curtain, revealing your boyfriend standing there with his signature goofy grin plastered across his face. Through the glass you hear the voice you’d missed, “Wanna let me in?”

Bubba:

The Sawyer home was unusually quiet right now. With Drayton out at the gas station and his other brother doing god-knows-what, just you Bubba and Grandpa were left at the house. With Bubba working downstairs, you had been left to your own devices. Though you didn’t mind some alone time, it was odd that you hadn’t really seem hide-nor-hair of your beau lately. Though that seemed like it would be changing pretty soon, as you heard the large metal door to the kitchen slam. You turned to see Bubba coming towards you, happily clutching something in his hands.

“W-W-What’ve you g-got there B-Bubba?” He excitedly shoved the object, which you know could tell was a book, into your hands. “Where the Sidewalk Ends” the cover read, with a drawing of two children looking over what looked like the edge of a cliff. You flipped through it, and it appeared to be a collection of poems cute illustrations to go with them. You turned back at your love, who was watching you eagerly, seemingly trying to figure out your reaction.

“It s-seems like a v-very n-nice b-b-book H-Honey. Th-th-thank you.”  His brow seemed to furrow underneath his mask and he poked the book more insistently. You cocked your head in confusion, “I’m af-f-fraid I d-don’t get w-what your s-s-saying.” He opened the book and a warbling hum came from him as he pointed from the words to you.

“You w-w-want m-me to r-r-read it? Out l-loud?” He squealed happily and nodded. “ Are y-you s-s-sure? B-B-But W-what ab-bout th-the way I t-talk?” He nodded again and pulled you into his lap on the couch. He hugged you tightly around the waist, resting his head on your shoulder as he looked down at the book. You laughed softly about his enthusiasm, “Alr-right…I-Invitation…If y-you are a dreamer c-c-come in. If y-you are a dreamer, a w-wisher, a liar. C-Come in….

Chop-Top:

The whole Sawyer house was very much relieved today. It had been awhile since anyone had driven by and food was running kinda low, making everyone a bit on edge and touchy. Luckily, a whole van of people stopped by last night and were quickly dispatched, meaning everyone would get to eat. Your boyfriend’s brothers were currently preparing and cooking the meat, while your boyfriend looted and organized the belongings of the now-cattle.

“Y/N! C-Come in here and take a look at this!” your boyfriend hollered from the other side of the house. This was somewhat ominous as you never could tell what he was going to show you when he got excited like this. His tone of voice when showing you a neat bug was the same when he was propping up and goofing off with a corpse. You walked in and he was standing in the middle of the room, surrounded by a mess of objects scattered around him. On him was the ugliest shirt you had ever seen. It looked like bowling alley carpet had a love child with a kid’s drawing of what a Hawaiian shirt was supposed to look like. It physically hurt your eyes a bit to look at it. “Check out th-these digs babe!” he crowed.

“W-Wow…th-that s-sure is…c-c-copacetic.”

“I know r-right!” He turned back to admire himself in the dirty wall mirror, “T-Totally far-r out!

You hid a grin behind your hand, “You’re one sh-shagad-d-delic c-cat.”

He whipped back around to face you, beaming ear to ear, “Awww sh-shucks,” he wadded his way through the mess over to you, throwing his boney arms around you waist. “You’re pretty b-bitchin’ your-yourself,” he crooned, pressing a sloppy and slightly gross kiss on your cheek. Maybe you could get used to the shirt…

Norman Bates:

There was a record playing in the main lobby of the motel when your returned from tidying one of the cabins. As you stepped in farther, you could make out your sweetheart’s voice singing along softly. Curiosity drew you closer and you watched from the doorway as he folded laundry. His voice was as sweet and smooth as honey and the melody seemed to drip into you, wrapping around and warming your heart.

“It takes a lot of sunshine…To make a s-summer day…But just a little love…Can go a long, long way…”

You wolf-whistled, and he whipped around to face you, dropping the shirt he was holding. “Oh dear, I, um, well, you, w-weren’t supposed, to, er, see t-that.”

You moved towards him, picking up the shirt from the floor and returning it to him. “Y-You s-s-sing b-beautifully you kn-know.”

His eyes flicked back to meet your’s, “R-Really, I, well, I just never, s-sing in front of anyone…”

You smiled, looking up at him with faux innocence, “H-How does th-this one g-g-go again? So i-i-i-incid-dentally…”

He gulped, “Um, Treat love g-gently…”

“W-When it c-c-comes in view…”

“It-It could even, even happen to…”

You both joined in for the last line, “S-someone l-l-like you…”

As the song played on in the background you realized how close the two of you had gotten. You both blushed and turned away slightly, but neither of you could hide the blush or grins painted across your faces.

[quirkydahlias]

Could I have a thingy (wether it's hc or fic that's up to you :)) with a quirkless s/o, for Aizawa, where two people break into their house and have her at gun point, but Aizawa arrives in time to save the day. How would Aizawa react and what would he do to comfort his s/o? I hope this helps to give you an idea! Pretty please and thank you! ~ ❤

I’m writing a fic because I need something to fill my masterpost and tag list with ; o ; ! Hope that’s alright with you! I needed to flex a bit on coherent writing anyway~. Oof, I just noticed that I made this a fem!reader. I hope that’s okay ;;; _ ;;;)

Work In Progress ( Aizawa Shouta x Fem!Reader)

Aizawa always preferred to work at night.

Granted, he was an underground hero and had a day job as a teacher, what choice did the pro have? But even Aizawa had to admit, there were perks to working exclusively at night.

For one, it was easier to sneak up on villains when you could hide in the cover of darkness and shadow. And with his fighting style, stealth was the most ideal way of going about his patrol.

Secondly, things are awfully quieter at night, even in a city as large as Musutafu. There were less noisy people on the streets and fewer cars on the road. The most ideal time for Aizawa to get some time to himself.

And finally, there were fewer bystanders.

Aizawa Shouta has never been good with people. Saving them, certainly. But comforting panicking masses? Keeping key witnesses from bawling their eyes out?

It was an area he needed to work on. That was certain.

However, he could have never realized just how necessary that skill would become tonight as he finished his rounds and began the trek home.

It was around 2 in the morning, so he probably needed to be a bit more discreet when coming home if she was asleep. But even if the pro hero did wake her, it wasn’t anything new. After all, he made no moves to hide his habits from (F/N) when the two of them first moved in together. In fact, after a long dinner and a few drinks, Aizawa had gotten up and went to get ready for bed…only for (F/N)to find him asleep in the bathtub.

But that is neither here nor there.

Hanging off the side of their shared apartment complex, Aizawa was far too lazy to use the front door and opted to slide in through the balcony.

Before he slid the door aside, he paused.

The lights were on.

Not one light, but many, as evident by the bright glow against the curtain.

Instantly, the pro hero was extremely suspicious as (F/N) weren’t the type to waste energy so frivolously. Besides, he had warned (F/N) to keep the lights low at night as it made their shared home more inconspicuous.

If he moved through the balcony and into the living room, his shadow would be a huge giveaway.

So it was the bedroom window for him.

Pulling himself back up onto the rooftop, Shouta used the clothesline to swing up to the bedroom window and slide it open.

Good. (F/N) left it unlocked, just like he asked her to.

It was nice and dark inside the room, a stark contrast to the rest of the house. Already, Aizawa could pick up on a mix of voices coming from the living room and light whimpering.

It was the right move to enter through the bedroom.

He had to move quickly, but not rashly either.

Thankfully, the door was slightly ajar, making it easy for the pro hero to peek and see what was going on.

(F/N) was wrapped up in duct tape, her voice muffled by the tape covering her mouth as one of (F/N)’s assailants held his hand against your hand, the palm of his hand serving as a gun of some kind, from what Aizawa could tell.

He was speaking to someone, no-two people, who were rummaging in the corner of the room. Were they armed? Possibly. Looting? Most definitely.

Just some robbers. Typical.

It wasn’t as if they’d find anything, considering how barren and plain Aizawa prefers to keep his house. He claims that it’s more efficient to have less clutter, but everyone also knows that he’s far too tired to bother dusting shelves or wiping down tables. But we digress.

He needed to see them, all at the same time. Sliding out from the shadows, he clung to the side of the hall before making his way towards his girlfriend.

If he couldn’t see them, he needed to reach her first. And with (F/N) in his sights, that was something he could do.

Aizawa stiffened as the three robbers went silent, but relaxed when one cursed at how barren the living room was.

Aizawa reeled back, like a cat ready to pounce on his prey.

(F/N)’s eyes moved wildly, from the robber that was raiding the adjoining kitchen to the one that was digging through her bag. Then, bright red eyes caught her attention… as well as the attention of her captor.

But it was far too late.

Springing forward, Aizawa slammed into the robber who hovered above (F/N), wrapping his capture scarf around the criminal before throwing him against the one that was digging through her possessions. The force of this throw sending the two criminals tumbling before thumping against the wall, all wrapped up.

Two down, one to go.

Lifting her, as if she were a mere child, Aizawa moved her from her spot against the wall and down on the floor behind the couch where she had some cover from the last criminal and whatever their quirk was.

Aizawa glared down the criminal who raced into the living room, gun in hand.

There were only two options here. Either their quirk had something to do with metal or firearms, similar to Snipes. Or this robber was quirkless.

Not that it mattered too much to Shouta, who threw his scarf, wrapping it around the robber’s weapon before disarming him in one move. And before the robber could cry out in alarm or react, Aizawa was already on them, kneeing them in the gut before slamming their head against the island counter, pulling their arm back so far that it looked like it was on the verge of ripping.

“You chose the wrong apartment,” Aizawa tsked, clearly irritated as he reached into his back pocket and cuffed this robber, before wrapping up the criminal in his capture scarf and dragging the wannabe criminal along by the scruff of their neck. With casual flair, as if he was throwing out the garbage, Aizawa hung the three robbers off the edge of the balcony, watching them struggle in their restraints before he texted Mic for pickup.

The blond still had to be working at this hour, considering how late his show runs.

Turning back to (F/N), Aizawa softened, seeing how frightened she was. Her body was a leaf in the wind, tears staining her cheeks as she shut her eyes tight as if that would make everything disappear.

“Hey, this might hurt a little,” Shouta warned as he kneeled down next to her, carefully removing the duct tape before using a pocket knife that he kept in his utility belt to slice through the rest of the duct tape. Considering how much time it would have taken to bind her up like this, Aizawa figured she was held captive was a long time. 

Far too long.

Giving her some awkward pets on the head, as if his girlfriend was a cat, Aizawa frowned, “I’m sorry, I should have finished my work sooner.”

“N-No,” She murmured, voice soft in fear of sounding too shaky should she raise her voice.

She was trying to be brave. He could see that as (F/N) wiped her tears and tried to stand, although her movements were clumsy. Evidently, she was still in a state of shock.

“Let’s go into the bedroom, it’s less open,” Shouta suggested as he placed a stern hand on the small of her back, letting her lean on him for some support as he coaxed his girlfriend in bed.

But even when surrounded by blankets and the cat-themed pillows Aizawa had gotten for her, Shouta could tell that she was still in dire need of comfort.

“Shit,” he cursed quietly, turning to leave the room for a moment, “I’m bad at this…”

Immediately, the moment he turned caused an instinctive reaction, (F/N) lurching forward to grab his hand.

An awkward silence befell the two of them as the two locked eyes.

“Please, Shouta,” (F/N) whispered, averting her gaze, “Stay with me…”

Aizawa cracked a small smile, loosening his girlfriend’s vice grip on him with a small tug, “I’ll be right back, I’m not leaving the house.” 

And before she could protest any further, Aizawa was already down the hall and into the living room.

Jeez. It was an absolute mess. The table was overturned, what little shelving was removed as books and binders scattered the floor.

Grading was going to be hell tomorrow. But right now, Aizawa was on a mission. He needed to find something to help comfort his girlfriend.

They didn’t have a cat, since their apartment was strict against animals. So cute creatures were out of the list. He wasn’t like Mic, who could crack jokes all day long and get any one of the people he saved to laugh. Music could help, but Mic had ensured that Aizawa’s phone was filled with a bunch of Mic’s greatest works and episodes. Shouta wouldn’t wish to subjugate anyone to hours of listening to his closest friend rant on and on. Even on his worse enemy.

He didn’t have video games and nothing interesting was on at 2 in the morning. Perhaps food? Food was comforting, right?

Aizawa was almost certain that ‘comfort food’ was a thing. Even if he didn’t care to partake in it.

Entering the kitchen, Aizawa noted that all the cabinets were open, one door loose as it seemed to have been pried open. But Aizawa didn’t necessarily mind the damage, he was supposed to replace the finicky cabinet door anyway. 

Reaching for the top cabinet, Shouta seized as many snacks as he could, all the while muttering the names of the ones that (F/N) was fond of.

What else soothed people? Tea? Coffee? Caffeine was probably a terrible idea at a time like this…maybe some milk?

So without wanting to spend too much time away from her, Aizawa returned to the room with arms filled with snacks and a glass of milk in one hand.

“Um,” (F/N) started, eyes widening at the haul that Aizawa brought back, “That’s a lot.”

“I wasn’t certain what you wanted, there isn’t much to carry anyway,” Aizawa replied, placing the glass down on the bedside table before plopping the goodies next to (F/N) and sliding in next to her.

Deciding to eat a bit of her anxiety away, (F/N) nibbled on some cookies while Aizawa rested next to her, his presence alone a huge comfort after being ripped away from a hostage situation so quickly.

“You know,” she began, leaning back to hide in his arms, Aizawa opening one eye to look down and meet her gaze, his attention peaked, “You’re not the best at comforting people.”

A lie, but one that Aizawa decided to humor as he pressed his lips against (F/N)’s forehead. Not kissing her, but just applying the lightest amount of pressure.

“Eh, It’s a work in progress,” The pro hero shrugged, shooting her one of his signature grins, which just made (F/N) laugh as she huddled closer to the pro hero.

[almighty-pontheon]

The Almighty Pontheon Chapter 5- Catoton Counter

Having since recovered from whatever was ailing her last night, Veeden was doing her part in the tribe. She wasn't all that strong, not really. So her help mostly came in the form of appropriate plotting for new tents, showing youngsters how to tan hides and make blankets to help them survive the cold nights, among other things. The sound of Vee's army marching their way back caught her attention and she bounded up to the soldiers, wanting to see their faces alight with their victory. Instead of that, though, Veeden was greeted with an unusually downcast army. "...Oh?" The Priestess went to Vee, who was always the last to return from these outings. "What happened, Great Vee?"

"Hm..." The Almighty looked back to the army, who began to settle down near the fires lit to celebrate their victory. "I suppose some of their moral is being damaged by the Catotons... We won, but I guess some of their words really cut deep."

"They kept saying such awful things!" Ton whined. "First they set up an ambush in the grass, and then they made fun of us so we would chase their Yaritons into another ambush right after that one!" ""Come get us" They said." Chin sulked. ""Spineless Patapons" they called us." "Hey Vee! What's this for?" Vee looked to the wagons full of loot and spotted Kan searching through it and retrieving a curved stick with a string attached to it. Unable to figure out how to attack with it, he picked it up and held the object in every angle he could think to hold it in. "Oh, that? It's a bow." Vee answered the Patapon's question. "Do you want to try it out? There's a rotting fence over there you can use as target practice! Maybe you were a Yumipon born as a Yaripon, who knows?" "...Hmm..." Still holding it by the string, Kan walked off to said fence as Vee turned back to her exhausted army. At least he was happy! "Come on now, let's not be deterred by their words!" The Almighty declared, briefly holding onto Hatapon's flag as he settled down on the ground. "You're all wonderful, brave Patapons, and I should know! I'm your Almighty, after all! Not to mention that I created all of your souls, and I don't recall putting in an ounce of cowardice in you! Why would I do such a thing, huh?" She looked to the tired group, slightly happy to see them getting some life back into those eyes of theirs. "Right, we have a really big day tomorrow, guys! So eat up, everyone! Stew's coming in a few minutes." Vee left them to whatever kind of conversation they wanted to have as she left to see Mater. Hatapon, however, decided to tag along. "You always say that when we are about to go do something dangerous." He prodded. "What are we doing tomorrow, Great Vee?" "Simple!" She chimed. "We are destroying the Catoton fort at Dodon Basin!" "What-" Hatapon felt his hear practically stop beating! "Great Vee, are you sure we can do that!? That's a Catoton fort, a-and at Dodon Basin no less! You know what lurks in Dodon Basin, right!?" "Yep! And I know we can do it, huh?" Her undying optimism should have been encouraging to any standard Patapon, all too eager to hear their Almighty Patapon's praise. Hatapon was unlike his peers in that he was more grounded in reality, and far more prone to pessimism and doubt. He certainly didn't lose his hope in Almighty Vee, oh no... He was simply afraid of losing. "Mighty Vee-" He spoke up. "I know you mean well, but how do you plan to take on the Catotons? We have an army, but it's tiny compared to theirs. How- Woah." While Hatapon had been talking her ears off, Vee had been busy with the boys at the Mater Tree, creating a sizable pile of Caps for them to bury at her base. "That's simple." She replied. "We've gotten so many materials from all the hunting and Catoton-beatings we've been doing, not to mention all the Kaching! So if we're gonna win, we have to make a bigger army, right?" "That's... Right." He stammered, watching as the shovel-pons buried each Cap, one by one. Mater's branches lit up each time, spitting out a new Patapon in the end. Some were regular units, but a few were decent Rarepons. And yet, they were all either Yaripons or Tatepons. Vee now had a handful of spear users and three shield bearers in her army. Hata could see a flaw forming. They had plenty of muscle, sure, but what of support? What would gradually chip away at the enemy and back their brawn up? Could they really win anything with this army? At this point, Vee had already skipped off to go instruct her new crew on tomorrow's plans, but Hatapon remained. The worry that something would go wrong was eating him up inside. Really, he just wanted Vee to use some true divine intervention and simply warp them to Earthend, skip the Catotons and the other monsters completely! He never wanted to have to see the tribe he had grown proud of torn apart again... "... No.... I.... Have to trust in the Great Vee." Hatapon murmured to himself, slowly clenching his fists. "I have... I have to believe in her too, just as she believes in us!" "Mmh, yeah." One of the shovel-pons piped. "You do that, Hata-sir. But why don't you get some sleep now?" "Hm. Loopy guy, huh?" "Yeah, very loopy." Yes, he heard them murmur among themselves. No, he did not particularly care. ~~~ "Nya Ha Ha! You've reached the end of the line!" A Catoton standing on top of a finely constructed wall of brick and wood towered above the Patapons. Spear in hand, he tossed it to the approaching army. "Go for the tower!" Yolky told her new Tatepon comrade. Ton, Chin, and Kan instructed their new recruits to give the wall the full force of their spears as the Patapon's weapons rained upon the wall. After two or three hits, the wooden skeleton of the thing was exposed, and the Catoton on top of it looked quite shocked. "Y-you're joking! Stop this!" He hissed. "Archers! Sic em!" They could not see it from where they stood. A wooden watch tower that housed three Catotons with wooden bows had gotten orders to open fire, and the Patapons soon found themselves at the mercy of the arrows. "Keep going! Come on!" Kan snarled. Getting sniped from above hurt, and it just didn't seem all that fair to begin with! But press they did, and the wall eventually fell to the Patapons, taking the Catoton perched on top with it. His sacrifice wasn't in vain, however. It certainly gave their backup time to prepare. Now at least two Tatetons were holding up the front, three Yaritons lobbed spears at them, and three more of those archers continued to pester them with their arrows of pain! "Come on, PON PON PATA PON!" Hatapon sang, hoping to bolster their forces. "Don't give in! The battle's not won yet! Keep going!"Soldiering on, the enemy forces gradually found themselves cut down by the Patapons. Some even began to break rank, screaming "Revenge!" before charging, only to find themselves slain by Yolky. The tower, however, was one well-constructed fortress to behold. Even though the archer's arrows weren't reaching them anymore, getting this thing out of their way would still be a challenge! And as the wood cracked and creaked under the intense strain the Patapons were putting on it, as the yowls of the falling Yumitons were heard in the distance, someone hiding in the grasses considered himself rather impressed with the skill of the Patapons... "Forward March-" "Hey! That's the way!" Vee's army came to a screeching halt as a familiar scene unfolded right before them. A decorated Patapon with an impressive weapon stepped out into the open. Vee and Hatapon looked rather happy to see him, while the youngsters in the army saw themselves getting rather confused by the new arrival. "I am Don the Yumipon!" He introduced himself. "I can provide you with backup! Now, onward ho!" ~~~ Earlier... ~~~ As the fires that lit up the Patapon's feasting began to die down, Kan stumbled out of the dark, dragging along the bow Vee had given to him. Finding his Almighty and friends, he looked awfully displeased. "Oh! Welcome back Kan." Vee greeted. "So, did you like the bow?" "Um... I think I'll stick to me spear from now on." He huffed. "I don't think the bow is all that you hyped it up to be, Great Vee... I really think I could have done better damage with my bare hands." "Whaaaat?" Vee squeaked, taking back the bow from Kan. "I don't know, maybe you need a master to show you how." "Great Vee, you can use a bow?" Chin gawked. "I can, sorta. It's not my weapon of choice, but I know how to use it...." Taking aim at a rotting fence, Vee knocked an arrow into the bowstring and fired at her target. The arrow made a satisfying Shunk! as it buried itself into the wood. "Hahah! Bullseye!" Kan stared at the scene in confusion... ".... What was that stick thing that came flying out of the bow just now...?" "... H-huh?" The Almighty blinked. "K-Kan.... That was the arrow." "Is that right...? how did you make the bow shoot the arrow, though?" "Kan.... H-how did you... Use the.... On the.... Oh Kan...." He really, truly didn't understand Vee's befuddlement at the time.

[acrobaticcatfeline]

Rebuilding a Broken Mind, an Orphan Sanders fic

Word Count: 6484

TW: swearing, only a little bit, death mention, murder mention, doctors? patton is a veterinarian, idk if doctors is a trigger but you know better safe than sorry, i wrote thomas as bi and married to a chick but hes dead so like? also patton is pan and likes a chick. patton gets overwhelmed and cries a lot.

Notes: This is my orphan au and i cherish it they’re all such goods.

Pairings: uh none really, thomas and valerie, patton is crushing on my OC.

Summary: “Oh! Um, hi! My name is Patton Sanders, nice to meet you! Um, I’m 20, a veterinarian, and well, I’m an orphan.” Patton lost his parents when he was 15 and had to raise himself and his three younger brothers on his own. hes 20 now, and hes got a job and hes starting to get his life together. Of course with reminders of his parents constantly surrounding him, it makes it hard to really move on.

Oh! Um, hi! My name is Patton Sanders, nice to meet you! Um, I’m 20, a veterinarian, and well, I’m an orphan. I have three little brothers named Virgil, Logan, and Roman! They are so super awesome! Virgil is the sporty guy at his high school, he’s 17 and the captain of like, all of the schools’ sport teams! Logan is my little genius! He’s only 14, but he’s a whole two years ahead and in high school with Virge! Roman is my theatre kiddo, he’s in every arts program at his school and knows how to play just about every instrument at only 9!!! Now, as for me, I’m nothing special, I just try really really hard, so my brothers are safe. I triple timed high school and college so that by the time I turned 18 I had my degree in veterinary medicine. Logan claims I pulled an Aaron Burr by doing this, which I don’t fully understand, but I assume it’s a cool thing. I only did what I had to though, we were already orphaned by the time I started high school, which meant we had no money for college. My high school said that it would pay all my college expenses if I followed the guidelines set, and so I super dashed through school. I managed to ace just about all my classes with some help from my friends and siblings. But that isn’t what this is about. I’m not the focus in this story, I’m just the narrator and eyes. This is a story about 4 kids forced to grow up far too fast. This is a story of the children of the most amazing people. Because when it comes down to it, we’re broken minds, struggling to put ourselves back together.

               Now, to start, we have to explain what happened first. Our parents, Thomas and Val Sanders were out at a college play that a friend of theirs was a part of. Unfortunately, they never made it out alive. One of the people attending the play started a shoot-out with about 5 others helping him. Nearly the whole auditorium was killed. Including them.

We had no living next of kin, so a family friend took us in for a short while before dropping us all off at the orphanage. I will never forget that day. I remember them letting us grab our important things from our old house. I remember crying while holding all my siblings close. I remember having to be dragged out of my home. I remember the looks of pure pity from the orphanage staff. I remember them trying to separate me from my brothers. I remember almost punching them. I remember the name of the staff member who was the only one to understand and let us stay together, his name was Terrance. I remember hugging him before we were ushered off. I remember the confusion from Roman when we told him we weren’t going home. I remember Virgil carrying him around telling him that this was home now, with faux excitement and a plastic smile. I remember Roman thinking mom and dad were still coming back, and none of us having the heart to tell him otherwise. I remember Logan not speaking at all for the next month. But most of all, I remember the broken parts that got littered everywhere we went.

I was 15. Roman was only 4. We were broken beyond repair. At least, I thought we were. I thought for sure that we were going to go straight from the orphanage to the homeless shelter. But I did it. I managed to do something, and it changed our lives forever.

The day before I turned 18, I went through with my plan. I have friends named Joan and Talyn who already had a house due to Talyn’s parents having money to spare. They let us stay with them for as long as we needed. We brought all of our things over and we explained the rules of this new situation. My bros were quick to follow instruction. The next day we officially moved out of the horrible child prison we were owned by. I was already well into my job as a vet tech and was able to fully become a veterinarian the next month due to my boss seeing that I was at least twice as competent as the resident vets. And so, it began.

It was bittersweet when we got our own place, as Joan and Talyn had grown to adore my little brothers in the short year we lived there. But I had finally earned enough money to rent a house, plus the orphanage contacted me, telling me about a very large inheritance we apparently had, which was somehow enough to buy said house. We ended up moving in and used the money I earned for beds and a couch.

Over the next year we bought more furniture and accessories as we saw fit. At the present moment, my room is bright blue with animal posters and pop culture references sprawled about randomly. Logan and Roman’s room is split in half. One side is meticulous with dark blue and black walls and a few nerdy posters, mostly of doctor who and Sherlock Holmes. The other however, was messy as all get out, had musical posters everywhere and usually had the mess all the way up to the metaphorical line. Logan never complained unless Roman’s things crossed it. Now Virgil confused me. I was planning on him sharing a room with me, but he refused, claiming that I needed privacy and rest since I was working full time and he wasn’t. All he wanted was a couch, some bedding, music, and some makeup. Because I’m a stubborn mule, whenever he lets me buy him things, I buy him the most bestest makeup and all his favorite albums, as well as some of the best headphones sold. He gets mad at me, but he deserves the world and more.

Okay, now we’re in the present! So, I might as well start the actual story now. Ok well then. Its Friday morning, today the big game at the high school is happening, which means Virgil has to leave early for practice. By early, I mean about the time that I leave for work which is 6 am.

I get up and make food like I normally do, only doubled because Lo and Virge usually sleep for another half an hour. Ro always gets up with me because I’m his ride to school. Virgil has a motorcycle that he drives himself and Logan to school on. I start up some friendly conversation as we eat, Virgil still groggy from sleep.

“are you ready for the game today? Isn’t it against the school rivals? I hope you guys beat them again, but I’m sure you will with such a good captain!!!” I wink at him as he chuckles.

“yeah, we’ve got this, if anything, I’ve got this, and that’s really the point. Yeah, it’s our rivals, the panthers, today. Not that they’ve ever been a challenge. We’ve swept the floor with them for countless years. And thanks for the poorly concealed compliment. Do we have anymore coffee?” he rambles off answers to my questions.

“yeah, but I don’t get paid til tomorrow and there’s only a cup worth left. Proceed at your own risk.” As soon as I say it, Logan zooms to the coffee and brews it for himself, cackling maniacally (giggling cutely).

“HAHAH!!! You will never get a drop of the saccharine nectar!!! Tis mine, forever and always!” he brushes his hair back with his hand and smiles at us. Roman beams and stands up in a fighting stance.

“thou shalt not loot this poor pauper of his deserved libation!!! Come at me thy villainous fiend!” and quickly the two start playing mock sword fighting. Me and Virgil laugh as Logan gets vanquished and the cup of coffee gets given to V. Logan ends up stealing some still, to my amusement.

We end up splitting up as the kiddos go to school and I head to work. I walk in, put on my coat, and then the place blows up. There is a half dead dog on my table and another 2 that are at least stable waiting. I’m apparently the only actual vet that showed up today. Great. Today’s gonna be fun.

 I’m not gonna go into what happened at work, because honestly, not much happened. It was an average day at work, but now is time for the interesting part!!! So, the big game at the high school is happening today right? Well, let me talk about it!

So, I go and pick up Roman from school and head over to the high school while asking Ro about his day. He learned a healthy amount of animal and plant biology, so I talk about some of the things he didn’t understand and made a few biology puns which were received quite well luckily! When we get to the school, I call Logan to figure out where he had stationed himself. We meet up and find a nice spot on the bleachers. Not long after, the teams came out and started playing. Virgil is easy to spot, not to mention the announcers are constantly shouting about him as he keeps running the ball the furthest of either team. The game is pretty average for the most part, up until the very end. Virge takes the win but not a second after, he gets tackled full force to the ground. I stand up and look over the crowd as I see him up again, shoving the other guy away. The guy gets up close to his face and I think Virgil is going to punch him-oh god please don’t punch him. The guy gets dragged away by the referee and Virgil has a bunch of teammates coming to check on him and I feel much less on edge. I shouldn’t though. As soon as I think it’s done the announcers go quiet and the stands go crazy as Virgil uppercuts the guy and then knees him in the stomach.

“what just happened there?! Kyle, why did Sanders just risk his high school career like that?!”

“Fitton insulted sanders’ younger brother.” Oh. Oh no. Oh HELL NO! Logan stands up and looks in the direction of the guy and visibly shudders. Oh, he’s lucky that V got to him first. Oh, I might be going to jail guys! The rest of this story might be told from prison!

“Logan, do you know that guy?” I ask calmly. He looks at me before turning away.

“um, yeah. He uh, he’s an ex of mine…” I tense up. He’s never told me about him having been in a relationship! He tells me everything! Ugh, that’s not important right now…

“is he a freshman? I haven’t seen him on the team before.” Lo nods.

“yeah, we met at the local library. I didn’t tell you cuz I didn’t think you’d want me to date someone and um, never mind… Anyways, we broke up cuz he was trying to pressure me into doing um, bad things.” I twitch. Oh, I might kill him. I shake my head and take Roman’s hand and start walking down towards the team to pick up Virgil. We get down there and I check up on Virgil, checking for medical issues; he very well could have gotten another concussion. I get distracted when Virgil hisses at something behind me.

“oh, calm down parselhead. I wasn’t even coming over here for you” I hear in a low drawl behind me. “how’s it hanging bookie?”

“first off, I’ve told you what that actually means and that that nickname bothers me, please cease this instant, and second, I’m doing fine how are you Loki?” I hear Logan say calmly.  I tense slightly and turn around with an angry look on my face.

“Logan you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to. I know for certain I wouldn’t if I were you.” Logan looks at me but shakes his head.

“I can converse with an ex and still be civil about it Pat. It’s no problem.” he smiles softly at me, but I can’t help the anger that swells in my chest seeing the huge smirk that this guy is wearing.

“yeah Patton we can be civil here, no need for this hostility. Anyways, I’m doing fantastic Logan! Thank you for asking! I even have a new boyfriend, one who doesn’t try to keep me a secret.” His voice is contradictory to his words.

“it was two years ago, and I was twelve and still in an orphanage, I didn’t need my older brother worrying about me anymore than he already did. Plus, I barely understood my emotions, how do you think I would deal with my brothers’?” Logan crosses his arms and looks up at him accusingly.

“I dunno, I sorta thought you were enjoying the relationship, but you just ended it for no reason, citing your brother as too intimidating to cross, and neither of them look that scary to me.” He says and I look over to Logan in confusion. He walks closer to him and starts talking again, harsher than before.

“you and I both know that wasn’t what happened. You got pissed off that I didn’t want to go smoke and bang you arrogant prick. Also, I’d watch what you say about my brothers if I were you.” He just smirks while he backs away.

“okay then, I see I’m no longer wanted here. See you round bookie.” He walks away, and Logan shakes his head and face palms.

“every fricking time… I try to be civil but he always… ugh never mind it doesn’t matter. V are you okay? I don’t know what Loki said, but I can almost guarantee it was a lie. Also, he has a ridiculously hard skull, don’t ask how I know that, are you bleeding? Concussed?” Logan looks up at Virgil with a worried smile.

“yeah, I’m sure it was a lie, didn’t make it any less enraging. And no, I’m not bleeding or concussed. You dated him? How?! He’s such a prick!!!” Logan laughs.

“I don’t know, he was interesting. He told good stories and listened to me when I needed to vent. He’s also an incredibly good pillow. Really, he was just, the person I needed at the time, I guess.” He shrugs. Virgil is still watching him leave with an angry glare fixed on his face. I decide to change the topic.

“hey guys, you want pizza for dinner tonight? Food for champions!” the other three smile and cheer. V changes out and we head home, and I hand make three pizzas from scratch the way that we usually like it. Dad loved pizza and he said my pizza was the best, so I usually make it for celebrations or as a pick-me-up. It seems like its serving as both tonight. While its baking I make a couple of announcements.

“okay, so I’m going shopping tomorrow morning, but when I’m done with that, I thought we’d go visit Joan and Talyn? They have some presents for you all.” All three of them look up from what they were doing with wide eyes and smiles.

“YEEEEESSS!!! JOAN AND TALYN ARE SUPER AWESOMAZINGSAUCE YAAAAAAYYY!!!” Roman screams. I giggle as Roman jumps around and hugs me. Logan laughs along with me as he pulls Roman away.

“calm down Ro, Pat is cooking, you can’t be that close to the hot oven. I’m excited too, yes Ro.” Virgil looks at me questioningly.

“why do they always get us gifts? It seems like every time we see them, they have stacks of presents for us.” I shrug.

“well, I sort of introduced my lifelong friends to my 7, 12, and 15-year-old brothers who were sort of helpless at the time. They like me, but they adore you guys. Some kind of cool grandparent syndrome I guess.” Virgil laughs loudly at this as the pizzas beep. I pull them out to cool and tell some more puns to pass the time. The evening goes on without a hitch, we play a round of word association games as we eat our pizza. I pack up the leftovers in lunch bags for the 4 of us and then clean up the kitchen. As I finish with that, Roman shouts for me to tell him a story.

I tell a story of a brave prince who has to protect his kingdom from a fierce dragon witch. The dragon witch had stolen away the princes soon to be bride. The prince fought through many trials to save his fiancé, however he was beaten to it by another beautiful princess who had won the maidens heart instead. The prince was of course fair, as the princess had fairly bested him, and so he went on a mission to love himself before he went around looking for a fitting bride-or groom, again. Roman sleepily cheers and snuggles into a black cat plush V gave him.

The most difficult to get to sleep is Logan, who just wants to read all night. He changes to a different book just as I walk over to his desk. “Lo, you need to go to bed. You want to be well rested for tomorrow kiddo. You can read your book tomorrow, I promise the ending won’t change, and it won’t leave without you.” He yawns, he has had a long day.

“if I go to sleep will you sing for me? Please?” he looks at me with puppy dog eyes.

“of course, Lo. Bookmark your page and go get ready for bed and I’ll sing for you.” He smiles and rushes off to get ready. He’s back in a few minutes.

“can you sing dads old lullaby? If not its ok but-” I cut him off.

“of course, I can Lo.”

“somewhere there’s someone who wants you to be

How they want you to be, their opinion

They’ll paint you the colors that they wanna see

And to them, its Monet,

But to you, it’s a gray, silhouette

So, pick up a pencil, a stencil, a crayon,

The picture is not finished yet

You can let someone else tell you your story,

You can let someone else tell you what’s true

Or you can set yourself free,

Climb the tallest highest tree,

Or maybe sit back and take in the view,

You can let yourself, let yourself do

Anything.”

By the time I finish the chorus, Logan is sound asleep, snoring softly and cuddling an owl plush. I get up, tuck him in, turn off the lights, then head into the living room. Virgil is laying on the couch with his headphones on full blast. I grab his sleep meds and a cup of water and hand them over to him.

“hey, you shouldn’t listen to your music that loud, it could damage your hearing. You don’t have to listen to me, but I just wanted to let you know. I worry about you guys, you know?” he smiles and takes the meds. He turns down the volume on his headphones and nods.

“sorry Pat, I didn’t realize they were that loud. And, we worry about you too. You do way more for us than you have to. Anyways, thanks for the meds and sleep well okay? Don’t stay up all night again.” I giggle and nod before giving him a quick hug and going to my room.

I do a few pieces of paperwork that I wasn’t able to do before the end of my shift and send a quick text to my vet tech Elenora, checking in on her, as she’s been off on vacation and she’s supposed to be getting back tomorrow, and she has some things she needs to pick up at the office. She’s also absolutely amazing and sweet and beautiful and I love talking to her so so much. But that’s beside the point. After I get all of that done, I check the time, realizing that its now 11:45 and I should have been in bed an hour ago. I quickly fall asleep soon after luckily.

The next day is super-duper hectic so like, hold onto your horses, this is gonna be a wild ride! Okay okay, so I get up at 8 and go shopping, blah blah, tons of coffee because my boys and I have a problem. I unload everything by 10 which is when the kiddos are waking up. Virgil apologizes for not waking up to help but I wave him off as I start to make a small lunch because three meals a day, but Joan and Talyn are probably going to take us out for lunch knowing them, so I don’t want us to lose our appetite, that’d be rude! Anyways I set out the 4 plates and eat mine before going to take a quick shower. By the time I shower and change, all three of them are conversing around the table. I smile fondly because, hey, I helped raise these fantastic kiddos! LOOK AT MY BROTHERS!!! Okay, I’m good now. I walk up to the table and they all smile happily at me before going back to their debate.

“listen, if you have straight caffeine you die, therefore this stuff is totally deadly and like, we’re slowly killing ourselves by drinking it.” Virgil says, being devil’s advocate per usual.

“well yes but that’s like chlorine and sodium!!! They are both deadly elements on their own, but together give us salt! Not to mention that even too much water can kill a human! And! Another point, coffee is a natural occurrence just like water!!! In reasonable quantities, coffee is perfectly safe!!!” Logan rants passionately making me glad that I invested some money into speech and debate for him. Roman grins.

“but if water, coffee, and salt could kill us, does that mean that the world is trying to kill all life on it?!? are we living on a death rock?!? LOGAN IS THE WORLD GONNA KILL US?!?!” his grin slowly gets sadder and more scared as he continues. Logan flinches slightly.

“I mean, technically humans have been killing the earth for years so I wouldn’t put it out of the question that that is the reason that everything on earth is potentially deadly to humans. That would make sense… gosh darn it why do you always send me into steadily collapsing bouts of existentialism?” Logan shakes his head likely jumping into one of his existential crises.

“do I want to know the opening remarks?” I ask and they all shake their heads no. I grab a mug and make myself some creamer with a hint of coffee. Heheh!!! Caramel coffee is very good, but caramel mint coffee is even better! Roman runs off to get changed right as Logan goes to take a quick shower. V asks to change in my room which I am totally ok with because of course!!!

Oh! I should say what we’re wearing shouldn’t I? okay okay, so I wear my favorite pair of khakis, which are quite worn from wear. I wear a pun-ny shirt about dogs, and a tan cardigan with black white and purple plaid shirt underneath. I also have some nice black boots. When Roman comes out, he’s dressed in a red theatre shirt, white jeans, and a white fluffy coat, with his favorite white fluff boots. Logan comes out with his talk nerdy to me tee, black ripped skinny jeans, a black fluffy jacket, black boots, and a snap back. Virgil ends up wearing his nirvana shirt, black ripped skinny jeans, leather jacket, and black converse.

Logan sneaks up behind Roman and puts one of his Disney caps on him. Roman gasps because Lo never shares his hats. He tries to give it back but Lo tells him not to. “I got that one just for you Ro, keep it.” I think RoRo almost cries as he dashes into a cute embrace with Lo. Logan giggles as he sees his baby brother smile. It really is the best feeling ever when you can be the cause of a smile.

Soon after the scene of pure wholesomeness, we head on our way to Joan and Talyn’s house. We are greeted by happy faces and a stack of gifts. This is normal I guess, like V mentioned, they always have piles of gifts for us.

“hiya!!! Glad you could make it! We decided to make a big meal instead of going out, I hope you guys don’t mind?” Talyn grins sheepishly. “and we also invited a couple more people. Sorry we didn’t tell you it was a surprise!”

“a surprise? Who’s here?” I ask, looking around them both to see. There are more gifts than usual. And they’re gift wrapped. Oh gosh what did I forget? Wait… what month is it? oops. I might’ve said that out loud.

“its January Pat.” Joan states simply with a growing grin. Oh god, it’s my birthday soon isn’t it.

“happy early birthday Patton-cake!” Talyn yells happily. Yup. Oh, I’m an idiot. I facepalm.

“I’m glad Joan called me on Monday, otherwise I wouldn’t have gotten your presents from us and brought them over!” V smirks as we walk in. of course they were all plotting against me, I should have known! As I walk in, I see Leo, Jamahl, Dominic, Dahlia, Kenny, Derionna, Rafaela, calypso, and oh god, how did they get Elenora?!? I don’t think I’ve ever even talked about her to them!!! Not to mention that she must be horribly jetlagged!

“oh my god no way!!! I love you guys so much aaaa!!! How do you even know Elie?!?” I say as I go around giving hugs to my friends from back in high school that I’ve missed so much.

“dude, Els is in a bunch of my classes. She never shuts up about work, so it was easy to find out that you guys knew each other. Not to mention her constant fawning over ‘doctor sanders’” Elie punches Joan in the arm.

“listen here bean boozled, are you gonna keep outing me or are we gonna start this party? I estimate the time between now and when I fall unconscious from exhaustion and jetlag is t minus 4 hours.” She states matter of factly. God, I love her, I’m so far gone.

Joan and Talyn attack me with a hat while I’m fantasizing, and they laugh mischievously as they drag me over to the table.  Joan’s saying something in one ear and Talyn’s saying something else in my other and I’m confused as heck, but all my friends surround me as well as my baby brothers and start singing at me. I don’t even comprehend what they’re saying because my brain can’t remember the last time I had a surprise party, and its actively making me remember my 14th when my dad and mom threw me a giant birthday bash and it was all day long and we fell asleep in a pile on the couch and before I can stop it all the voices start freaking out and I touch my face and I finally notice that I’m crying, and gosh I just ruined it of course gosh darn it they all went out of their way to make this and now I’m just sad and crying. I feel a thud and finally pay enough attention to see Roman hugging me tightly and apologizing. I pat his head and smile at him before kneeling down and reassuring him.

“Ro Hun, it’s not your fault I’m crying, I just remember mom and dad that’s all. I was caught up in my head but I’m fine. I promise ro. Do you wanna help me blow out the candles?” Roman smiles widely and nods. I pick him up and we blow out the candles together. The others all smile and cheer. Joan stands next to me with a smirk. Oh gosh they’re going to have me do something dangerous and I’m gonna agree because its going to be fun and d a n g e r o u s.

“you realize we are stealing you tomorrow to go barhopping right? Els even offered to dd for us! I mean of course, she’s sorta still underage for a few more months, but yeah, you, me, Talyn, and els are going to have birthday bash part two and its going to sick as Fu-” I cover their mouth before they can finish their swear.

“my baby brothers are here!!! No swearing!!! It’ll hurt their poor innocent ears!!!” I see Virgil and Logan give me a skeptical look before I gesture at Roman and I see their eyes widen in realization, before they nod furiously in agreement. Roman obliviously drags Logan off to play with the bubbles that Joan had gotten to keep the little ones occupied. I uncover their mouth and shoot them a look before giving it up for a smile as I hug them.

“thank you for this Joan, it’s kind of you. You didn’t have to really, haven’t even seen you guys in a few months!”

“that’s exactly why we did it. We don’t need a reason to give the littles gifts, and if we have a reason to give you gifts you won’t turn them down. You never have been one for spontaneous presents, but you know what, I love ya man, and you deserve to get shit on your birthday you oaf. I always felt bad that you wouldn’t let me help you and the kids when we were still in high school. God its been so long now, we’re old pat! You know my mom always tells me that they’d be so proud of you whenever I tell her what you’ve been doing. She actually wanted me to give you something, its wrapped in the pile of gifts.” They winked and nodded over to the living room where far too many gifts in my opinion, were sitting. The rest of my friends were there too, keeping themselves entertained one way or another, and I saw that Logan and Roman were running around outside chasing bubbles.

I go over to the stack and feel immediately intimidated. I hear the door open and Roman and Logan come inside. They sit behind me and I grab the first present that I can reach. The wrapping is purple plaid and Virgil’s name is scrawled on the tag. I open it up and look at my brother with a mocking look as I pull out a pale blue lab coat with dog face emojis.

“oh my gosh you dork I love it!!!” I pull it on quickly, seeing how it fits and beam at him.

“I’m glad. You’ve got another one somewhere from me” ugh of course that’s how there’s so many gifts.

I grab the next one with the same wrapping and rip it open only to see a new surgical kit, which I had been desperately needing to get but had been avoiding. They’re ridiculously expensive and I haven’t had the money to spare. I don’t know how vee could have managed to get that much money, and I don’t understand why he would spend it on me. I feel tears welling up in my eyes for the second time today, and launch myself at Virgil, picking him up and twirling him around. I see Elenora look at the tools out of the corner of my eyes.

“holy crap how did you afford these? This set is worth almost a thousand!” Virgil gives a feeble look as I set him down.

“I’ve been saving up for a few months, no big, you had mentioned you needed a new set a while ago, and I know you wouldn’t let anyone give you one. You can’t give this one back otherwise it’d be wasted so ha I win.” He ends with a smirk, and I punch him in the arm for calling me out on my OCD about work.

I grab my next gift which is a deep red with a matching bow. I peel off the paper and see a Pooh bear onesie and I smile down at it before laying back to smile at Roman who is giggling loudly.

“Lo helped me find it!!! I know you love Pooh, so I thought you’d like it!!!”

“he had tried to get you a size that fit him at first it was really quite adorable. We got him a Tigger one to match but we told him he had to keep it hidden until you got yours.”

I reached out for a hug and instead Roman kissed my nose then pushed me back into a sitting position. I huffed dramatically before grabbing my next gift, from Logan. I rip open the striped paper and see a book called animal madness, about animal mental health, and I feel my smile widen. There’s another book, by Jackson galaxy called total cat mojo and I might have squealed a little bit?

“LOGAN, I LOVE THIS THANK YOU SO MUCH OH MY GOSH OH GEEZ THESE WILL BE SOOOOO HELPFUL!!!!!!” Logan smiles and chuckles softly.

“I had imagined so, you have said that a couple of your patients have had mental issues more than physical and you’ve seen them more often due to their owners not knowing how to treat them, I hope the books hold deeper insight than google.”

I give him a big hug, and then grab the next presents, opening one after another all very sweet but also rather irrelevant gifts including coffee, cooking ware, and fandom stuff. I eventually get to Elenora’s gift though, which I was slightly scared about opening if I’m being honest? It could be anything, what would she get me? I open the rose gold box that holds a few different items. The first I notice is a necklace with a four pawprints on them, each a different color, red, navy, cyan, and purple, and each with me and my brothers’ names. I smile softly at it as I put it on. The next thing in the box is a new stethoscope that matched my light blue theme at work. After that is a build a bear Alolan Vulpix plush with an absolutely adorable cloak and a spare outfit. I squeeze it and it sounds so cute??? I’m so glad I share my obsession with Pokémon with her it makes work that much more enjoyable. The next thing I pull out is a dual sapphire and ruby pop head set and I let out a laugh at it, she knows me so well, I had mentioned I loved their characters and that they reminded me of my mom and dad once offhandedly, and yet she’s gotten me ruby and sapphire things three times now. I pull out a gift card to pizza shop I adore, and the last item in the box is a card that says read later, so I throw a glance her way as I put the card in the pile.

I thank her, and give her a hug, before turning my attention to the last present remaining, the present from Joan’s mom, who was basically my second mom growing up. I pull apart the wrapping hesitantly, and I almost let out a choked sob at what is in the package. It’s a letter from my parents. I cover my mouth as I grab the letter and read it.

“dear Patton, we hope this letter reaches you in good health, and that we are still in contact when you reach 21.” I make some odd strangled noise and my eyes start filling with tears. “no matter how our relationship is, we have a present for you. Patton cake, we know you’re only a year old now, but when you get this, we want you to know that no matter what we love you so so much and we want you to be happy no matter what. So, if you’ll forgive us if we’ve hurt you, we want you to have this glass and drink. Your mom made that glass right after you were born. She believes that the essential gift for a 21-year-old was a wine glass and a nice red wine. This wine is the same one I had on my 21st with my father and I saw it fitting to share it with you. I love you so so much son, and I hope you know that you’re in my heart wherever I am. The same goes for your mother. You know me and how paranoid I am, so this will probably be given to you by my best friend who I don’t doubt will grow close to you. In case anything happens, not that it will.” I don’t think I can breathe anymore oh my god this is from my dad- “but anyways ill stop rambling” no dad please keep talking don’t go please! “happy birthday Patton, you make me and your mom so proud. I love you so much” I wheeze and double over, I can’t breathe my dad, it was almost like he was there again, my dad was there and I-

I open the wrap on the glass, the crystal glass has an imprint that has the words “you’re capable of anything” and me and my parents’ names inscribed in it. Etched in, not just printed, its won’t fade, it will always be there. I look up at the roof to stop my tears, and to hopefully tell my mom and dad I love them if there is an afterlife. I wish I could see them one more time and be able to say goodbye. I can’t, but god it hurts so bad, I miss them so much its not fair they should have been able to come home they should be here they should have been here to see Roman and Logan and Virgil grow up it’s not FAIR GOD DAMN IT!!! I need to calm down, its in the past its over I can’t change it I can just keep going. I take a few deep breaths and wipe my eyes. I set down the glass and look at Joan.

“Joan, I need you to thank your mom for me, I-I owe her so much for this I can’t even properly explain just how much this means to me. If she ever needs anything let me know, I will do anything to help.” Joan nods and smiles at me softly.

I breathe a few more deep breaths before standing up.

“now, that’s enough of that. There’s cake and games!!!”