#but anyways- i love kid rusty i want to put him in my pocket

[p-ogman]

"So...want a cigarette?"

[very inspired by this post]

[invisibleanonymousmonsters]

Could you please write Jason and Y/N (Father of Mine Universe) with prompts 48, 31, and maybe 30? could go either way.

Even if you choose not to write this, thanks for creating Father of Mine, it's one of my favorite fics!

Father of Mine

48. Using your body to shield them from attack.

31. Hurriedly checking for their pulse.

30. Performing CPR when they stop breathing.

Jason and Y/N were walking along the water after getting dinner.

Most of the harbors in Gotham were run by one crime lord or another. Which meant that there were very few areas on the water for civilians to enjoy – or feel safe. 

But Jason knew of a strip that was under the radar.

There were a few other couples with the same idea. And random groups of kids and teenagers hanging out and messing around.

Jason was relaxed.

That was his first mistake.

Jason had immediately clocked a random middle-aged man who was covered in sweat and was visibly trembling.

Being far too familiar with the sight, Jason assumed the guy was another unfortunate addict. 

But then he noticed the man was carrying a backpack.

Jason had all of 5 seconds to realize what was about to happen.

He shielded Y/N with his body while screaming as loud as he could, “Get down!”

Jason knew he couldn’t save everyone, and Y/N would always be his number one priority.

The next second, the bomb exploded.

The impact knocked Jason unconscious.

For how long, he had no idea.

He was disoriented from the explosion, his ears ringing from tinnitus and his vision struggling to focus from the vertigo. Yet, somehow he could still hear the beating of his heart in his eardrums. 

People were screaming in pain around him and others were crying as they looked down at their loved ones. Half the harbor was on fire from the explosion. Cement and debris was everywhere. Jason’s hair was grey from it.

He blinked and then panicked.

“Y/N!” Jason screamed when he realized she wasn’t anywhere near him.

He jumped to his feet and whipped around in every direction looking for her.

“Y/N!” He screamed even louder, his throat burning from the effort.

Then he realized when the explosion when off they had been standing next to the railing that blocked off the water. The railing that had now been blasted away and into the harbor.

Jason sprinted to the edge and looked down at the black water below.

Without hesitation, he dove into the depths.

It was almost impossible to see anything.

But just seconds later, he found Y/N unconscious and completely submerged.

Jason had never swam faster in his life.

But when they breached, Y/N didn’t gasp for air.

She was completely unconscious.

Jason’s eyes darted around, trying to find their escape.

By some miracle, there was a rusty ladder that led back up to the pier from the water.

Jason put Y/N’s body over his shoulder as he climbed the ladder, silently praying that the metal didn’t break under their combined weight.

When they reached the top, he gently laid her down and his fingers shot to the pulse point at her neck.

Nothing.

“No, no, no,” Jason mumbled. “Y/N. Come on, baby. You’re not doing this to me.”

He found his Red Hood comm in the pocket of his jacket, and put it to his hear.

“Contact Bruce,” he commanded the AI as he started performing CPR on Y/N.

“What is it?” Bruce answered with slight panic. 

Jason had never called him like this before. And therefore Bruce knew immediately something terrible happened.

“Get the fucking jet here right now,” Jason growled.

“What’s happened?” Bruce asked, but it was obvious he was moving around already to leave.

“There was an explosion. She doesn’t have a pulse and she’s not breathing,” it was all Jason was capable of giving him. “Just get the fucking jet here now!”

He didn’t have time to explain more and hung up. And he didn’t have to say Y/N’s name for Bruce know who he was talking about. There was only one woman in Jason’s life that would have him sounding so panicked and desperate.

Jason continued his CPR, fully focused now that he knew Bruce was on the way.

Still nothing.

He did another round of compressions.

Jason’s eyes started watery as his mind began to believe that Y/N wasn’t going to make it.

He wouldn’t survive.

Y/N had changed his life. She made him better, made him good, made him want to worker harder – do literally anything to become the man she deserved and to continue to be deserving of her love.

“Please,” Jason whimpered. “Please don’t leave me.”

But then Y/N’s eyes shot open and she immediately turned over and started coughing up water.

“Holy fuck,” Jason gasped in relief at the sight.

Y/N continued coughing until her throat was scratched and dry.

Jason rubbed her back, trying to comfort her without preventing her body from getting all the water out of her lungs.

After she finished, she was shaking from being freezing cold and from the shock.

Despite him also being wet, Jason put his coat over her shoulders.

“Don’t ever fucking do that to me again,” Jason begged Y/N as he pulled her into his arms. 

He kissed the crown of her head and hoped his body heat would be enough to warm her up.

“What happened?” Her voice had never been raspier and it was now quivering.

“A bomb went off. I thought I shielded you from it, but the impact must’ve thrown you into the harbor.”

“I’m OK,” she tried to tell him. But her shaking voice was unconvincing. 

Jason wasn’t letting go of her anytime soon.

It was only 5 minutes later that the batplane touched down on what remained of the pier.

Jason looked up to see Dick, Tim, and Damian jump out and immediately start helping the injured.

But Bruce, dressed in his Batman uniform, was walking straight to Jason and Y/N.

“She needs to go to a hospital,” Jason called out when Bruce was a few yards away. “Her heart stopped beating and her lungs took in too much water.”

Jason knew Bruce wouldn’t argue with taking Y/N there immediately.

Bruce was clearly relieved at seeing his daughter alive and conscious. But that didn’t mean she was in the clear. Nearly drowning still had its risks. If her heart stopped beating, she was in danger of brain damage or pneumonia.

“I’ll take her. You help the others,” Bruce ordered as he stepped forward to take Y/N from Jason’s arms.

“Like fucking hell I am,” Jason growled as he stood up with Y/N in his arms.

Bruce was about to fight him on it, but then he met Y/N’s eyes. Her skin was pale and almost had a blue tint to it. She looked so small and vulnerable in Jason’s arms. Not like the strong and grown woman that had first strutted into Wayne Manor.

“I’m not leaving her,” Jason added for good measure.

Bruce finally sighed and nodded. “Take the jet. You know where to go. I’ll meet you there.”

Before Jason could carry her away, Y/N whispered, “What about the others?” 

Her eyes tried to look around her boyfriend’s broad shoulders to see the other victims.

“B is going to help them,” Jason gently told her. He even angled his body to block her line of sight. She didn’t need to see any of it. 

“We already have ambulance and firemen on the way,” Bruce added, hoping it would convince her further not to worry herself. 

There was nothing she could do for them anyway. 

Then Bruce locked eyes with Jason. “Go. Get out of here. Take care of her.”

“Always,” Jason muttered quickly before hurrying Y/N to the jet.

————————

Y/N woke up to two low voices clearly having a serious discussion, but trying to keep their voices down.

When she opened her eyes, Y/N realized she was in a hospital room. But it wasn’t just any room. It seemed like a five-star hotel with how fancy it was. It didn’t have that sterile smell or those harsh fluorescent lights that caused headaches.

“It was a turf war,” Bruce told Jason quietly. “Carmine has jurisdiction over the harbor the two of you were at tonight. But Farrelli wanted it for himself. He forced his latest victim to bring the bomb.”

Jason crossed his arms. “So, the guy was dead either way, Farrelli just thought he’d put him to some use before he murdered him.”

Bruce nodded. “And kill five more people with him.”

“Five people died?” Y/N burst out without realizing it.

Both men’s heads whipped in her direction.

“You’re awake,” Jason sighed and immediately rushed to her side.

“What hospital am I at?” She mumbled, looking around again.

“Gotham General,” he told her as he sat on the edge of the bed to face her.

Jason gently grabbed her hand and kissed the back of it. But he had no intention of letting it go, keeping a tight hold and rubbing his thumb back and forth across her skin.

Bruce was slower to join them as he walked with his hands in his pant pockets.

“This isn’t Gotham General,” she commented with a suspicious gaze. 

Jason scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Yeah. Well, as soon as Bruce arrived, they realized that you’re Gotham royalty by blood, and brought you to a special suite.”

Then Y/N’s eyes slowly moved to her father. “Five people died from the explosion?”

She needed to know. But she also knew that both men would try to protect her from possible survivor’s guilt.

So Bruce just nodded.

“How are you feeling?” Jason asked, trying to distract her by changing the subject.

“Tired. And my throat is sore,” she admitted with a light shrug.

Then she looked up at Jason and really took him in.

There were dark shadows under his eyes – the eyes that were still a bit bloodshot. 

Had he been crying? She hadn’t registered that. 

His hair was a mess, probably from drying haphazardly after jumping into the water to save her.

“Are you OK?” She asked.

It would be right on brand for Jason to risk his life saving her, but ignore any and all injures that he’d received from the same life-threatening travesty.

“I’m fine. Always am,” Jason reassured her too quickly.

Bruce chimed in,“We were all just worried about you, Y/N.”

Both men knew her next question was going to be about the well-being of Damian, Dick, and Tim.

“Can we go home?” She asked softly.

Y/N had always hated hospitals. And once her mother got cancer, Y/N absolutely despised them. Now all she had attached to them was bad memories that constantly threatened to trigger her. 

“They just need to get a scan back, make sure everything’s good,” Jason tried to comfort her. “Once that’s good, I’ll take you home.”

He knew her distaste for hospitals and was prepared for her to want to escape at the earliest opportunity.

“Scan?” Y/N questioned.

“You didn’t have a pulse,” Bruce explained. “You have a concussion. We need to make sure there was no brain damage or any lasting side effects.”

“Right,” she mumbled, trying not to sound worried.

“You’re gonna be fine,” Jason reassured her as he cupped her cheek.

“Perhaps you should stay at the manor for a few days,” Bruce offered. “You can relax and not be bothered.”

“She can not be bothered in our apartment,” Jason interrupted, giving him side eye.

“Jason…” Y/N warned gently.

She knew the signs of Jason getting worked up. The fire in his eyes was always something Y/N could read – more than anyone else.

Bruce wasn’t offended by Jason’s little snipe. He was used to his temper. But his gaze did turn rather serious. 

“Could I talk to you outside for a moment?”

Jason was about to refuse, not wanting to leave Y/N’s side. But he knew that would just most likely lead to an argument. And Y/N didn’t need to hear or see that. She was already exhausted and recovering. The last thing she needed was to witness was her father and boyfriend going at it – especially over her.

So Jason just nodded and stormed out of the room.

The quicker they got this over with, the better.

As soon as the door closed, Jason was sizing Bruce up.

“What exactly is your next move?” Bruce questioned.

“I’m going after Farrelli,” Jason rumbled, as if it was obvious.

No one put Y/N in danger and got away with it. Jason had already come up with a plan on how to seek his revenge. 

It was going to be gruesome and dirty, but nothing less than what the bastards deserved.

Bruce clearly had expected this answer. “So do you plan on doing that while you take care of Y/N?” And he tilted his head as he challenged Jason.

“Are you really trying to stop me?”

Bruce took a step forward. “No, Jason. I’m trying to protect you from yourself. You get blinded by vengeance. And I let you get away with it. But now your actions don’t just effect you…they effect her, too.”

Jason blinked.

“Y/N needs you right now. Even though she will act like she doesn’t.” Bruce inhaled. “If you’re going to put revenge over her wellbeing, she should stay at the manor.”

This was a somewhat of a warning – an opportunity for Jason to do the right thing before he could make his mistake.

Jason’s head hung low now. “I can’t let him get away with it. She almost died, Bruce.”

“And he won’t. But we’ll take care of it,” Bruce promised.

Jason thought it about a moment, before he finally nodded slowly. “I think the manor would be good. But I won’t leave her.”

“I never said you had to,” Bruce corrected.

Jason nodded again and made his way to the door of Y/N’s room again.

“Jason?” Bruce called.

He turned around with an eyebrow quirked.

“Thank you for saving her life.”

Jason tried not to roll his eyes, but took a few steps back to Bruce. 

“You have your opinions about me and her, I’m sure. But I want to make this is clear: I’m always going to protect her. Always. What happened tonight is never going to happen again. I’d die protecting her.”

Jason didn’t wait for Bruce’s response before turning back around. 

But just as he opened Y/N’s door her heard, “I know, Jason. I’ve always known.”

—————

Jason was able to convince Y/N to stay at the manor.

And she surprisingly agreed – as long as he came with her.

Alfred spoiled her rotten with all of her favorite meals. He was constantly bring her tea or coffee. 

Damian ordered all of his pets to keep her company and cuddle with her. To the point where Jason was annoyed because there was literally no space for him.

Tim downloaded a hundred movies for her to watch. 

Dick sent flowers and chocolates. 

Even Clark stopped by when he heard what happened. 

Unbeknownst to Y/N, all the boys and Bruce were working on taking down Farrelli. 

If Jason was the man from just a few years ago, Farrelli’s corpse would already be rotting somewhere in Gotham. But he had changed. Now they had to do things the right way.

Jason stuck to Y/N’s side like glue. He hovered, watched her like a hawk, wouldn’t let her do anything on her own.

After of a few days of this, Y/N finally had enough.

“You gonna talk to me anytime soon?” She asked him in bed on their third night.

Jason broke their eye contact.

“Jason. Please?” She whispered.

Silence filled the room.

“I can’t do it.”

Her brow furrowed. “Can’t do what?”

For a split moment, she thought he was about to try and break up with her. 

“I can’t watch you get hurt again. I just…I can’t.”

She cupped his cheeks. “But I’m right here. And I’m fine, Jason.”

“When I…” He hesitated. “When I died. I knew it was coming. I saw the bomb counting down and I knew there was no escape. I accepted my fate. I knew I was going to die. And I was scared.” 

Jason shook his head and took in a deep breath, “But Y/N…that was nothing compared to what I felt when I was convinced I’d lost you. I’m never been so fucking terrified in my life.”

Y/N smothered him with her embrace. “I’m so sorry for scaring you. But I’m OK. Please just focus on that. Please.”

“I can’t lose you, Y/N.” Jason whispered into her hair. “This place was hell before I met you. And I have no fuckin’ interest in fighting it without you.”

Y/N wished she could promise Jason that she would never leave him. But she was the child of a mother who passed far too soon. She knew life and death could be so cruel, ripping the loved ones away with or without warning.

No, she didn’t die this time. But who was to say something like this wouldn’t happen again? And maybe next time, she wouldn’t be so lucky. They lived in Gotham after all.

“Fate may have other ideas…But I never plan on leaving your side, Jason. I love you too much to do anything else.”

Jason actually laughed. “I can fight fate.”

He’d done it once before.

----------------

I have a few more of these prompts for bonus material. But let me know what you think 🤗

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Fully Completely 1

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape (series), attempted violence, mutual irritation.

This is dark!Loki x reader and explicit. 18+ only.  Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Series Synopsis: There’s a new face in Birch and he’s come to haunt your door.

Sister series to Smalltown Bringdown, When the Weight Comes Down, and Little Bones

Note: I did not plan to get the first part done so soon. I will probably be setting time aside as I write this to also work on some original stuff. When it comes to that, I’d love if y’all might let me know what you think would be a better medium to release it? Kindle, Patreon, etc. I’m really not sure but if it was Patreon it would like be two series running at once with a chapter of each a month + Q&A and maybe some bonus materials? I am a noob at this shit and it wouldn’t be for a while yet.

Anyways, I’m rambling...

Thanks to everyone for their patience and feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

Chapter 1: She simply slammed the door

💀💀💀

The garage smelled like oil and snow. The cold air seeped under the closed metal door as you sat on the low stool and affixed the new headlight to the propped up Harley. It was only the start of an impractical rebuild; your brother wanted everything metal replaced with chrome. You thought it was obnoxious but the parts were paid for and you could never complain for money.

You were funded exclusively by the town’s club, your garage not far from The Asp where the members hung out and revved the engines you found yourself looking at more often than you liked. You were good at what you did though and privileged for it. You had the protection of the club without having to devote yourself truly to its bounds.

You checked the wiring and rolled away from the bike to change the station as the radio crackled. The snow kept setting the speaker to static and the noise was driving you mad. You flipped the switch to play the cassette stuck in the drawer, the old stereo beaten up and filthy. Springsteen’s gristled tones filled the shop and you wheeled back to your brother’s ride.

With the storm would no doubt come more work. Your fingerless gloves itched more than they kept you warm. Your fingertips were numb as you touched the frigid metal and the sweat of your palms made the fabric uncomfortable. You were used to it, rather tolerant as your task kept you distracted.

You were interrupted as you bent to look under the tank and get a good look at the exhaust and the rest of the beast’s entrails. You had the new pieces still wrapped and didn’t intend to do it all at once. Jerome could wait for his tacky redesign.

A loud banging came at the metal door and you glanced over in irritation. Anyone in Birch knew to come in the painted door to the left and not hit the large one. You huffed and stood with a groan, your hips sore from the low stool. 

You fixed the front of your fleece-lined denim jacket and pulled the tail of your plaid shirt from inside your jean pocket. You’d been hunched over so long you were all wrinkled. You went past the large door and into the small entryway off the left of the garage and opened it with a tinkle of the rusty old bell above.

You stuck your head out into the gales as the snow continued to fall and squinted at the man in his thin jacket. He stood beside the long luxury car as another man with wild orange hair remained in the driver’s seat and blew into his hands. They were out of place in the small town and you could tell by the way the man scowled at the door that he knew it.

“Hey,” you called to them, “there’s a place down the street. I don’t do walk-ins.”

“Oh, hello, Miss…” he let his voice trail off as he neared and you stared at him rather than provide your name. His accent, his attire, the curl of his lip, it was clear what he thought of you and the bodunk town, “actually I was referred by an acquaintance. One, James Barnes.”

“Bucky?” you furrowed your brow.

“Mm, yes, that one,” he said, “my car will need detailing. We had some difficulties on the motorway.”

“Right,” you tried not to scowl, “well, if he sent you, I guess I can help.”

You left him and the door clattered behind you. He followed a few steps after as you went to the switch and pushed it to raise the wide door of the garage. You waved in the driver of the car and he carefully pulled in beside your brother’s bike. 

He got out and you were surprised by his size, he was taller even then his companion and wider; neither could be described as short. You lowered the door as the thinner man walked along the shelves and the long table along the other side of the garage. The bigger man stood by the car and tucked his hands in his pockets.

“Not much better in here than out there,” the dark-haired man turned back to you, “you have heat in here?”

“You need a better coat,” you said as you rounded the back of the car, “and some boots.”

You glanced pointedly at his leather shoes and bent to reach under the table. You pulled out the space heater and plugged it in as you set on the wood. You cranked it up and smiled at him tritely.

“So, what’s the damage?” you asked as you looked to the other man.

“Headlight, maybe,” he said in a peculiar accent, “some scratches. We had a bit off a run-in.”

You neared and bent to examine the front of the car. You sighed as you tilted your head and clicked your tongue. It was easy enough to beat out the dents and buff out the scratches with a quick refinish. The headlight would need to be replaced and you knew they didn’t carry anything for that model in town. No one there was pretentious enough to drive it.

“If you want the headlight done before you leave town, it’ll take some time to get the replacement,” you warned.

“Oh, and how do you know I’m leaving?” he taunted coyly.

“Well, I know you’re definitely not sticking around,” you scoffed.

“Why wouldn’t I? A quaint place like this, I’m sure there is so much to explore,” he said dryly.

You had no delusions of what Birch was but it wasn’t the part of outsiders to deride the dead end. You stood straight and put your hands on your hips.

“You can go back to your castle, my lord, but you will have to wait out the storm,” you sneered. “Two days for the scratches. If you want to take it back after that and wait for the headlight to arrive, that’s fine with me.”

“Two days for the scratches? Surely you could do it before the morning,” the black-haired man insisted.

“I could but I have other work to do,” you replied, “so you can be patient and take your turn in line after all the hicks who live here.”

You went back to the table and grabbed your phone from where you tossed it earlier. You unlocked it and searched the model of his car and scrolled through the parts list. 

“You’re Bucky’s guest so I’ll send the bill to him?” you asked, “though you do look to be able to afford it yourself.”

“You can invoice him directly,” he assured, “so you’re one of them?”

“One of them?” you repeated as you focused on checking out. The damn internet kept cutting in and out.

“My brother, those men in this town, I never knew a woman--”

“I’m not a biker. My brother is in the club,” you assured him, “so that big blond dope, he’s your brother?”

“Regrettably, yes,” he slithered, “Loki Odinson,” he introduced himself as he rubbed together his hands, the leather gloves doing little to protect his fingers, “my driver is Korg, and you’ve yet to tell me with whom I am trusting my property.”

“Again, there is a shop down the street. Prices aren’t bad,” you finished up your purchase and tucked your phone in your jacket pocket.

He met your eyes as you turned to him and he looked down his nose. You kept on and brushed past him as you went back around the car and sat by your brother’s bike.

“Sorry about the boss,” the other man, Korg, intoned, “he can be a bit--”

“Don’t apologise for me,” Loki snipped, “I needn’t atone to her.”

You rolled your eyes and wheeled around the side of the bike, “if that’s everything, you two can head back out. I’ll let you know when the car’s ready.”

“We might wait for the snow to calm,” Loki suggested.

“I close in an hour, you’re not staying here all night,” you sniffed.

“Trust me, I have no special desire to spend more time with you than necessary,” he retorted, “I don’t think I’ve ever met a woman so volatile as you, dear, and I’ve only just met you. I never expected you people to have very many manners but perhaps what I did presume was too much.”

You bared your teeth but kept at your work. You would worry about kicking him out when you finished the wiring.

“To be fair, had you not spoken first, I might’ve assumed you were a man,” he added.

You paused and glanced down at the open tool box. You weren’t unused to the comments, you weren’t girly in any way but it wasn’t like you were trying to be a man. You wore what was comfortable and in your work, practicality prevailed over aesthetic. Yet, your years of ridicule as a kid made you less tolerant of the comments and those had stopped long ago because you made sure they did.

“Oh, darling, have I upset you?”

“Don’t call me that,” you said as you reached into the toolbox.

“Well, you’ve not given your name and I’d hate call you what I truly think of you--”

The wrench flew from your hand as you stood and spun to him. It barely missed his head and bounced off the wall and plunked onto the table beside the heater. His eyes rounded and the other man looked at him. There was a thick silence as you glared at him.

“If you weren’t a friend of Bucky’s, I wouldn’t’ve missed,” you hissed, “now I will kindly, before I reach for a bigger wrench, ask you to leave.”

He pushed his shoulders back and tilted his head as his lips thinned dangerously. He swallowed and beckoned the other man with two fingers. His cheek twitched as if he would grin and he nodded subtly.

“Well, darling, how amusing you are. These brutes must adore you,” he snarled, “the exterior does indeed say it all.”

You bent and reached for another tool blindly. He blinked and quickly dodged as you flung the next wrench and he followed his henchman to the entryway. Your temper was a match for many men. It kept you safe.

“Barnes did not say his mechanic was a madwoman,” Loki called back as the bell rang.

“What, are you going to tattle on me?” You stormed towards the doorway, “you precious little princess?”

“Princess?” he met you in the doorway as Korg behind him held the door open and the snow blustered in, “I know Barnes will do me no other favours, but do you think he’ll do you any?”

“Get out,” you spat and shoved him, “I don’t need men to take care of me and I have no problem in proving that.”

He bit the inside of his lip in a crooked smirk and winked before he turned away and strutted out into the snow, shielding his face from the wild winds. Korg trailed behind him and the door sprang back into the frame. You crossed your arms and glared at the peeling paint. 

You were tempted to tow his car out and let it weather the storm but you were smarter than that. If he was doing business with Bucky, you would be a fool to get in the way of it. 

💀

The snow dwindled to a lazy dusting, the ground thick and treacherous. That day, you started early and around noon, you headed across the street to the diner for your usual lunch of a club sandwich and black coffee. You didn’t have to order as all the waitresses knew what to expect. You weren’t unfriendly but your association made many standoffish.

You tapped on the lip of your mug with your thumb, fingers hooked through the handle. The sleepy town felt dead in the winter. You were used to the dullness of Birch but tolerance was hardly happiness. It was home, where you’d grown up and you had no certain desire to get out, but you wouldn’t mind a little more than what was expected.

You yawned and gulped down the last of your coffee. It was bitter and left a few grounds on your tongue. You leaned back and grabbed the monthly newsletter from between the salt and pepper shakers. You read through the fun facts which weren’t very fun or even new. They were copy and pasted out Guinness and Reader’s Digest.

You looked up as you sensed someone approach your table but it wasn’t the waitress. The man from the day before slid coolly onto the seat across from you at the booth and smirked over the table. You raised the newsletter again and folded it backwards to read about the weekly knitting circle down at the rec center that was also the library.

“Good afternoon to you too,” Loki said, “it must be fortune I ran into you, I was hoping to inquire after my car--”

“I told you, two days,” you said tersely as you continued onto your horoscope …‘a new force will bring change’... You hated this tripe. You swore, every month they just switched the blurbs under each sign and hit print.

“So be it,” he cleared his throat and you lowered the paper as he shrugged out of his jacket.

“What are you doing? I eat my lunch alone,” you said.

“Well, to be frank, I was pointed here on the promise of some famous cabbage soup,” he explained as he folded his jacket over the seat next to him, “you looked like you needed company.”

“I don’t,” you assured him.

Kimmie came over and set down your sandwich. She greeted Loki and you saw the way she eyed his tailored suit. He stuck out in the town of flannels and denim.

“Hello, sir, can I get you something to drink?” she asked.

“Tea, English breakfast,” he ordered smoothly.

“Oh, sorry, we only have um, um, sorry, peppermint, earl grey, ginger lemon, and green,” she listed off as she tried to remember them all.

“Earl grey,” he sighed, “and a menu.”

“No, no menu,” you insisted, “and you can take his tea to another table.”

“And when we’re through, I’ll take the cheque,” he ignored you and snickered under his breath.

“Kimmie, can I get a to go box?” you asked as you shimmied off the seat and snatched up your coat, “I have to get back to work.” You took out your wallet and counted out the usual amount plus a tip, “thanks.”

“Of course,” she smiled awkwardly and glanced between you and Loki.

She scooped your sandwich back up and scurried away with it. You felt him watching you as you walked away and went to stand by the till as you watched Nora flit into the kitchen. She packed up your food and returned with the box. You took it and headed for the door, ignoring the arrogant out-of-towner on your way.

“Wait,” Kimmie called out your name and you turned back as she held up your keys, “you dropped these.”

You met her halfway and took them from her with a mutter. Again, he was watching you… or still watching you. She spun and promised she’d have his tea shortly.

“Hmm,” he hummed and you head to the door again, “interesting, I never would have put the name to the face.”

You pushed out into the snow and gritted your teeth. You thought of getting the work on his car out of the way quickly so he would leave you alone but your spite made you want to put it off entirely. Whatever. He’d be gone soon enough.

[thiserichann]

cookies and cream - lee jeno

reader x jeno

genre: smut, strangers to fuck buddies, humor if you squint hard enough

word count: 4k-ish

warnings: recklessness (she met with a stranger online, don’t do it kids) excessive lying, 18+ scenes that includes: oral (f receiving) face riding, soft dom!jeno?

This is merely a work of fiction and is not meant to hurt the image of Jeno and NCT. Again, don’t be as reckless as OP. This was just a fantasy of mine that I’ve been dying to get out of my system.

Holy fuck.

That's the only word that you've managed to utter when you decided to check your messages that morning.

You got bored in the middle of the class and decided to sneak a peek on your phone to pass the time. The class is recorded anyways so you can always just go back to the parts of the lessons that you've missed.

But holy fuck.

You never expected to see THAT so early in the morning.

"Miss Y/N?"

You snapped back to reality and stopped malfunctioning for a second when somebody called your name. Everyone including your professor remained quiet and all eyes are on you.

"Oh. Sir what’s the question again?"

You answered nervously as you tried to review your notes and backtrack on what he is discussing a few moments ago.

"I see that you're distracted in the middle of my class again. Mind sharing what you're occupied with?"

"Uhm. I was watching KPOP fancams, sir."

"Fancams won't get you into law school, Miss Y/N. Phones off please."

You tucked your phone back to your pocket and never picked it up again since. The professor started blabbering again but no information is being retained on your head. It stayed that way at your other classes.

You wished you were looking at some KPOP fancams earlier. You’ve watched fancams at class before and got away with it unscathed.

Oh no. It was a goddamn dick pic.

A good one, too.

It was from a guy that you met in a kink site a few days ago. You created the account out of boredom and expected nothing to come out from it. It’s all the flirting and sexting without all the unnecessary commitment

It only took you a few minutes to set up an account. For some privacy, you made a random birthdate and a random nickname, because like hell would you share your real information to these people. You also picked a racy picture of a lady that looked a bit like you and passed it off as your own.

Within minutes, your inbox is flooded with messages. Most of them, however, are from men who are old enough to be your father.

Well, you were bored, so you entertained everyone and then went on back to your boring, vanilla life. A few political history and theory books later, you went back to see which ones messaged you on the site.

And that's where you've met him.

The most gorgeous piece of meat alive.

He seems like a nice guy. He introduced himself as LJ and your age aren’t that far off from each other. LJ is the only one who actually engaged in conversation besides "want to fuck?" or "are you horny?"

As soon as you started messaging back and forth, you scrolled on his profile to see what he looks like. The only thing is, his profile looked a whole lot like those high fashion male underwear photoshoots.

It was an array topless pictures (presumably his, you just can’t be bothered to check if it is actually his). It featured his sculpted abs and biceps, cropped up all the way to his full lips. Despite not seeing his whole face, you knew very well that he’s a hunk. To say you were intrigued is an understatement.

Since then, you've been talking back and forth through Snapchat (your secret one because you're not stupid) and sent him actual pictures of yourself, completely omitting the face. You took one from your bed, your bathtub, and probably every part of your house that you felt is sexy enough to be included on the pics.

You can't tell him if it's him or the repressed sexual urges finally manifesting itself after more than a year of not getting laid, but every text to and from him made your heart race. It was something that you looked forward to every hour everyday.

Hours went by that you totally forgot leaving him on read. You climbed up to your bed to rest your back to the headboard and opened your unread messages.

You: Hey svlr. School stuff.

  He opened the chat and started typing right away.

  LJ: Oh good. I thought I did something wrong to upset you.

You: Not at all. I loved the pic by the way. It literally knocked my socks off.

LJ: Just the socks?

You: You can take the rest of it off yourself ;)

You scoffed. The flirty banter has always been there ever since you started talking but nothing really came out of it.

LJ: If only I could :(

You: I know. Covid’s a bitch.

You set your phone aside for a second to go to the bathroom. On your way, you picked up some snacks at the fridge and sat back down to your bed, only to find your phone blowing up.

LJ: If you're down maybe we could meet

LJ: It's totally fine if you don't want to

LJ: I just made it weird, didn't I?

LJ: I'm so sorry I brought it up in the first place

LJ: I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable

LJ: Hello?

LJ: I'm really sorry

You: Chill. I'm right here

You: I just went to the bathroom

LJ: Oh

You: I'd be lying if I said I don't want to meet you as well

You: Well... I wouldn't write off the idea

You: But with the Covid

LJ: Thoughts?

You: I don't think it's a great idea

The screen says Seen right at the bottom but it took him a couple more minutes before finally replying.

LJ: I understand

LJ: But in case you change your mind, I'll leave the time and place up to you

LJ: I’ll take care of the rest

LJ: Deal?

You: I'll sleep on it.

You: Speaking of sleep, I gotta go. Morning class.

LJ: Okay. I guess this is good night then

You didn't, in fact, talk to him the day after.

You'd be lying if you said that you didn't want to see him and his abs in real life. But as someone who overthinks a lot, you just can't shake off the risk.

You: Good night. Talk to you tomorrow.

What if he's not really the guy in the pics? Or he’s psycho in real life? What if he's infected the virus?

You sighed.

Why must some global pandemic ruin your sex life?

You waited until the end of the day before you finally replied to LJ. The last thing that he texted was a brief good morning from earlier in the day and nothing else. He’s actually a pretty sweet guy, totally not worth ghosting, and you actually liked talking to him as a friend that you can share your sentiments with.

With your guilt finally eating you up, you took a break from your assigned readings and sat back at your bed to rest for the day. Your fingers hovered over the keyboard for a minute, thinking of something to say to him. It took you a few tries before finally hitting the send button.

You: So, I thought about it

LJ: And?

You: I need to know I can trust you

LJ: Okay. How?

You: I don’t know. Send me a proof that you’re real. Get tested?

You: Is that fine with you?

Within a split second, he sent his reply.

He actually did it.

You couldn’t believe it but he actually did it.

LJ: Consider it done.

He got tested for physical, including the virus test, and passed with flying colors. He even sent you a vid of him inside a medical clinic.

He just sent the uncensored results this morning where you can clearly see his real name.

Lee Jeno.

LJ.

Seems legit.

Well, the uncreative nickname shouldn’t matter now because the results meant only one thing.

You’re gonna have to push through with your promise.

You got ready around noon that day. You can’t remember the last time that you actually got ready to meet someone that’s not a delivery guy or a relative passing on something to your family.

As someone who overthinks a lot, you actually got everything covered. You picked a place near a restaurant to eat. The police station is just a few blocks away just in case something happens, and right in front of a library…

“Where’re are you off to?”

You raised your backpack to show to your mother.

“I’m off to the library. I needed to get these renewed. Maybe pick up a novel or two.”

She looks at you from head to toe, eyeing that incredibly loose hoodie, faded denim jeans, some worn out sneakers that looked like it’s supposed to be thrown away years ago and a medical mask that covers about ¾ of your bare face. It’s just your usual attire whenever you go out for errands.

She just nodded and went back to watching her favorite soap opera.

“It’s nice that you’re out of your room for once. Take some cookies from the kitchen so you’ll have something to eat in case you get hungry.”

… as an alibi to get away from your strict parents.

As soon as you left the door and made sure that you’re out of sight, you found the nearest public toilet and grabbed a whole other outfit from your backpack. The hoodie is replaced by a white, ruffled see-through blouse and you ditched the jeans for a tight skirt that’s at least four inches above your knees. You tousled your hair a little bit and put on some powder and tiny hint of lipstick before putting your facemask back on again.

It’s been a while since you’ve done an elaborate scheme like this. Your skills got a little bit rusty, but they always work.

Sometimes you wonder if you’re really meant to be lawyer or a criminal instead.

You stepped out of the toilet and blended right back into society.

Now all you have to do is find wherever the hell LJ is.

Jeno sat anxiously as he waited for you right inside the café. He’s on his fourth cup of coffee but it didn’t do anything to calm his nerves down (geez I wonder why).

You: I’m almost at the café.

He’s been staring at his phone the whole time. Once he received your message, which is a pic of you in the bathroom after the outfit change, he almost choked on his drink.

This message sent him on a panic as he turned his camera on to see how he looked. He did some minor adjustments to his hair and he wiped off his eyeglasses clean with the sleeves of his hoodie (which did nothing for him by the way) and then casually sat down and played it off cool like he hasn’t been waiting for you for over an hour.

On your perspective, you walked inside the café and looked around for LJ. Fortunately, there was only guy inside the café, twiddling with his phone on his hands and as he kept on peeking through the glass windows as if he’s looking for someone.

From afar, he actually looked really cute. His appearance, a shy, nerdy dude with glasses, looked way off from the fuckboy image that you expected him to have in reference to the messages that you’ve been getting from him.

It’s always the quiet ones that are kinky. You should know, you are one.

You walked over to his table and tapped his shoulders to get his attention.

He froze for a moment before he finally managed to turn around and face you.

“You’re actually here.”

“I know. I’m just as surprised as you are.”

tap tap tap tap

The room is so quiet that the only thing you can hear is the sound of your heels tapping against the tiled floor. You can say that that is one of your observable annoying habits tapping your foot on the floor when you're a nervous wreck.

Sighing in retaliation, you removed your hoodie, fanning yourself as you tried to relax and get comfy on the hotel couch (which should be comfortable enough since you paid a shit ton of money on that room), switching the TV on to get your mind off of things. The lackluster array of shitty sitcoms didn’t distract you at all, but it instead reminded you of the reasons why you’re in that room in the first place.

Having nothing to do to pass the time, you paced back and forth in the room, finally sitting down once you realized that it looks way worse than you just tapping your foot. You folded your arms right across your chest, looking at the watch from time to time but the hands of the clock seem to be moving slower the more you stare at it.

Quarantine started almost a year ago and it's been very hard for you. Sexually. It's been almost a year since you've been touched by a man and you’re more than ready to jump on anyone’s dick at any this point,

Too bad that that dick is taking his sweet time in the bathroom.

tap tap tap tap

Your foot found its rhythm once again, only this time, you’re not nervous anymore. Your patience is wearing thin.

As if summoned by the constant tapping, the guy comes out of the bathroom, just casually drying himself while wearing nothing but the towel dangerously hanging on his waist and a boyish smile on his lips.

No biggie.

"Hey."

Suddenly, you’re not tapping anymore.

Head empty, just thoughts of a hot guy patting down a towel all over his toned body.

“I hope I didn’t make you wait for too long.”

He spoke, tossing aside the towel on his hands on the sofa, finally giving you a full view of him and all his glory.

You must admit, you’re skeptical at first. The guy that’s been sending you faceless thirst traps just days ago, telling you how he’d fuck you senseless looked a lot different from the guy who entered the hotel room just a moment ago.

He came in wearing those black oversized hoodies that did a great job in hiding his best features. His hair was a bit long for your taste, covering half of his face while the face mask hid the other.

But this man right here in front you, he’s Adonis.

You unconsciously bit your lower lip, earning a chuckle from the guy.

“I’m guessing that you’d like to start now?”

You nodded, the tension and awkwardness rendering you unable to speak.

He smiles as he takes the remote from you, turning off the television because the main show is about to start.

You started to tense up again, eyes wide as you realized that he’s now right beside you, wrapping his arms around you as soon as he sat down. He leans over, soft lips coming into contact with your exposed neck and shoulders, landing small pecks all over.

You sat there breathless as he slowly ran his fingers to the side of your thighs, tracing circles at it while giving small, reassuring kisses on your neck and shoulders. It’s as if he’s asking you for your consent, waiting for you to open up to him before he makes a move.

He got his answer when you turned around to face him, running your fingers into his cheeks before cupping his face, your lips finally touching his. He moved in the same pace as earlier, slow and calculating. You got a bit impatient once again, biting his lower lips gently to let him know that he can do more.

He grabbed you by the waist and successfully placed you on top of him. The kiss got even more sloppy as you ran your hands through nape, then into his soft locks. His hands travelled once again, finger running through legs again, stopping as soon as he reached the hem of your skirt, flipping it up to reveal the thin lace material that barely covered your core. You took that as initiative to remove the towel on his waist and grinded against his growing member, the friction and heat enough to earn a groan out of him.

He held your waist once again, firmly this time, halting your movement completely.

You broke away from the kiss, staring him in the eyes to read his face.

“Something wrong?”

“Hold tight.”

You were about to ask about what hold tight mean, but your arms cling unto him involuntarily as he lifts the both of you out of the sofa.

Jeno laid you gently in the bed, making sure not to break eye contact as he does so. He looked like he's about to eat you alive, which is enough to send flush to your cheeks.

“I would’ve loved to bend you over that sofa, but I think it’s just proper that our first time will be on the bed.”

"God. You're beautiful."

He then ran his fingers towards the thin fabric of your blouse, feeling every part of your torso like he's memorizing every detail of it. His hands then travelled in your chest, squeezing the swell of your breasts on each hand, fingers shaking as he does so. It felt like an artist admiring his delicate work of art.

He situated himself between your legs, taking a moment to admire you first before doing anything else.

He started to run his hand on your cleavage and stopped on the uppermost button of your blouse, taking his time to remove all of them and placing a kisses at the exposed skin. After all of the buttons are taken care of, you lifted your body up and slid off the fabric. Your black lacy bra finally made its appearance. You took the liberty of taking that off too, as slow and as you possibly can.

 Jeno just stared at your body in awe, breathing heavily as his eyes scanned your naked glory.

 "Gorgeous."

He said under this breath before leaning down to claim your lips once again. You're turned on by how much attention he's giving your body now. You're usually loud in bed but his gestures are making you bashful. You've never felt this beautiful before.

You can feel his hands trembling as it travels all over your body, his kisses getting even more needy. There was moans of satisfaction every time he would lick your lips. Jeno was kissing you like you were oxygen and he needed to breath.

His hands travelled south, running across your thigh and your now aching core. You're about to remove your skirt and underwear but he stopped your hands midway.

"Keep it."

He took your hands away from your skirt and placed them just above your head.

"Just sit there and relax baby. Let me treat you."

You did just like he told you and gave him full control of your body.

"Good girl."

His lips brushed your ears, whispering sweet nothings about how beautiful you are under him. His kisses then went down to your neck, using his tongue and teeth, marking everything he can get his mouth on with his saliva. Meanwhile, his hands finally touched you down there, massaging your still clothed wetness.

His middle and index finger felt your slit, moving it in swift motion in search for your clit.

"Oh my god. That's it."

You gasped as his fingers finally hit the right spot, tossing your head back as his fingers made circles at your bundle or nerves.

You opened your legs more, leaning on your arms on your back, head tossed back and eyes closed as you feel your impending orgasm.

He dipped his hand inside your underwear and collected some of your essence with his fingers. The mental picture of him licking his fingers deliciously is enough to get you off for weeks.

It didn't take long before he took your panties off and his ducked his head down. He opened your legs once again and licked one long stripe on your core, making sure to taste all of you. You sat there and watch as he hungrily takes all of you in his mouth, acting like your pussy is a full course meal and he's been starving for years.

Within moments, you've become a moaning, toe curled mess. You ran your fingers to his blonde hair, guiding him on how to move his tongue and fingers on you. At one point, he bit some of your sensitive skin, making you scream a string of curses under your breath.

"Stop stop stop."

You grab a fistful of his hair and he paused from what he was doing. You pushed him gently away from you, leaving him staring at you confusedly. The confusion didn't last long when you flipped your current position, you're now on top.

"Can I ride your face?"

At this point, you're bold and horny enough to use your words and ask him. He just nodded, sliding himself from underneath you and went back to eating you like a champ. You grabbed his hands and placed them across your chest, squeezing your breasts to send him a message. He was quick to pick up and followed suit, pinching your nipples right in between fingers while your ride his face to orgasm.

"Shit. I'm coming..."

  You writhed from above him as you come undone. Your body felt cold all over. Your eyes are ringing, feeling dizzy as you almost passed out while you bucked your hips a few more times to milk your release.

You didn’t have time to recover when you heard your phone ringing from outside. Your legs felt a little shaky and you almost tumbled and hit your head in the wall if Jeno didn’t help you get up. You  sat down on the floor, butt-ass naked as you frantically searched for your phone from under all of your stuff before you finally pressed the answer button.

“Yes mom?”

“Where have you been? Your father’s been looking for you at the library. He’s picking you up on your way home.”

You buried your head on the couch to shake off the buzzing feeling on your head. You placed a pillow on your body while you searched for your discarded clothes all over the hotel room.

“Oh yeah. I went to the café and got something to eat. Tell Dad I’ll meet him outside the library.”

“Okay sweetie. Can you pick up some groceries on your way back? I’ll text you the list.”

“Yeah mom. Bye.”

You breathe a sigh of relief as you started putting on the outfit that you wore when you left home.

“Where are you going?”

Jeno reluctantly got dressed as well, his shy demeanor came back as soon as he wore his glasses and fixed his hair.

“I got to go, Jeno. I’m sorry that I’m leaving in such a bad time…”

You went over to him and placed a sweet kiss on his lips.

“I promise to make it up to you next time, okay? I’d love to meet you again.”

You grabbed a paper bag from your backpack and handed it to him, waving as you bolted out the door.

After fixing his things, he sat down for a moment and took a quick peek inside the package that you left him.

It was a ziplock bag of full of cookies and a whole other treat.

You left him your two-piece lace lingerie.

To be continued.

[hawksugarbaby]

Todoroki x male reader- Caramel and Honey

Fluff + Au where todoroki rebelled and never became a hero 

Todoroki hummed to himself laying out the ingredients in front of him with his mixing bowl in the centre of the counter top, the mix of ingredients in organised lines from first to last except he was missing one ingredient.

It was soon to be your birthday, and todoroki being the gentleman as always was desperate to make you a cake as his local supplier. You deserved it for the kind smile you wore dropping of his orders at the back of the shop and hovering around for a few minutes to talk before disappearing into the wind again driving away in your van with (y/ln) Produce, stamped on the side of the van in big, black cursive.

He took over the shop from his mothers side of the family before she fell ill and had to go to hospital. not wanting anything to do with his disgusting father he chose to stay and manage the store of light pinks and pure whites. He heard your tires pulling up outside on the gravelly path and he opened the door for you to drop off your produce inside on the counters by the door.

"Hey Roki! How's it hanging, making anything special today?" you asked hauling a crate of freshly picked fruit for the season in and dropping it onto the steel top, wiggling under the weight and scooting forward a millimeter. "What do you consider special?" he asked bluntly helping you carry the boxes into the kitchen and put the items in their respective places.

Finally you brought in the cardboard box layered in bubble wrap filled with decorative jars of golden honey pockets of air suspended in the viscous liquid and Todoroki nodded happily in receiving everything he asked for. Sometimes you'd forget the blueberries, or the tea leaves or the bananas grown specially by your quirk. You grabbed a glass of honey flicking the lid open and dipped your finger into the glossy amber tasting it yourself.

"Something special? I would love a rustic honey cake. Just the way mum used to make it with our honey. Not the dumb store bought stuff, the stuff we make ourselves. With the bee's we lovingly care for, for a reason!" you shout but it was muffled by you sucking the honey off of your finger.

Todoroki wiped his chin and cleared his throat "you've got some... there's uh... like a little" you looked up at him and touched your chin the sticky threads of honey clinging to your hand. "Shit" you tutted and wiped it away with the heel of your hand getting that just as sticky as the rest of you. "Well this is embarrassing" you sighed and todoroki exhaled quickly, which was close enough to a laugh to make you smile. "Here" he ran a tea towel under the warm tap and wiped it over your chin and pressed it into your hand for you to clean your hands yourself.

He felt his own face light up red and grabbed a cup of blueberries in preparation for the blueberry muffins he would bake today and you blinked a few time's rebooting your brain after the short interaction making you flustered.

You wiped your hands down and neatly folded the towel over the side of the sink and shook your head clearing the busy, buzzing thoughts from your head and drew your eye's away from him focusing on the calendar hanging next to the wall. Delivery, nothing, delivery, nothing, delivery + (y/n) Birthday. You grinned and pointed to the red circle around the familiar number on the calendar and twisted your neck to watch him stir ingredients together into a pale yellow batter.

"You remember my birthday?" you quizzed and he nodded furiously beating the whisked eggs into the mixture and poured in the cup of indigo berries fresh from the bush. "Hey are you busy right now?" Todoroki asked moving on from the topic of your birthday and lifted his eyes from your strong arms he'd seen carry so many boxes of fruit, to your joy filled (e/c) orbs sparkling happily at the prospect of him. HIM. remembering your birthday.

"I can be not busy?" you raise your palms to the popcorn roof and flick out your phone calling a coworker. "Hey Bro, could you perchance come get the van from the Todoroki Bakery and deliver the rest of the products?" you ask and pushed the phone to your ear with your shoulder and mouthed 'frozen fruit' to todoroki and you quirked an eyebrow. He nodded to the bottom drawer.

"No I dropped a crate on my foot carrying the peaches into the shop and It hurts to walk on it I dunno how driving would go" you chuckle nervously and wink to todoroki who just looked back down at his muffins filling the white, paper cases not quite understanding. "No, I know it's so unlike me! But it's okay, Todoroki said he'd give me a lift home but can you just do the rest of the rounds?"

Your brother agreed and you said your bye's on the phone. "I now have the entire day off" you said proudly and leaned your elbows on the counter admiring todoroki's fluffy hair straying further from the style it was originally in while he pushed the baking tray into the oven. "Wait but I should check your foot if you hurt it" he said crouching down and pressing his cold hands against your ankle making you flinch "no I didn't really hurt my foot I just needed to get out of work" you chuckle.

"Oh okay. Will your dad believe that, aren't you supposed to be the big strong son?" Todoroki craned his neck up to look at you still resting with one knee on the floor and the other pulled up like he was going to propose. You lost yourself in your thoughts again imagining that instead of his hand on your foot he was holding out a small grey box with a gleaming band tucked into the cushion.

"Hey what the fuck is this?" your brother laughed at the scene in the kitchen and you whipped your head up to see him leaning against the door frame uncaringly. "Uhh todoroki was checking if my foot was swollen or anything. No evidence of broken bones yet! So you should just get going with the van here are my keys!!" you said hopping over like a professional actor and shoved the keys into his hand. "Mhm i'm sure that's what it was. OUTSIDE!" he shouted at you pulling you round the corner clipping your arm on the wooden pallets leaning against the wall out back scraping up inside your elbow.

"Hey what the hell, that hurt!" you shouted lightly tapping the bleeding scratched that didn't seem to want to stop bleeding. "Look I know you like that todoroki kid but you can't just skip work to spend the day with him!" your brother turned around and looked at your face, mouth agape and eye's furrowed into annoyance and he shrugged "what i'm just being hon-" "ARE YOU BLIND OR STUPID!?" you shouted back thrusting your profusely bleeding forearm in his face.

"Oh shit what! are you feeling okay?" he panicked suddenly drawing Todoroki's attention and he poked his head out the back door. Being the observant boy he was, his eyes went wide and he jogged over to where you were standing and wiped the blood away with the already honey covered tea towel but the crimson immediately started pouring out again. "He needs an ambulance" the dual haired baker tightly wrapped the tea towel around your arm which was quickly soaked in red.

You moaned in pain and annoyance feeling your head spin. "What could he have cut his arm on?" your brother asked and you held your hand out in front of his face snapping your fingers closed against your thumb shutting him up. "There's a huge fucking rusty nail... on the pallet you dragged me past you dickhead" you huffed. The ground span and swayed around you and the brightness in your vision was turned down so you could barely see the outlines of the boys surrounding you.

And then you were on the floor.

And then you were in the hospital. Staring at the white plaster ceiling at midnight with no one by your side. "Huh" you hummed and checked your phone hissing at the brightness lashing the dark hospital room.

todoroki was in the shop with a bowl and cake pan next to him. The jar of honey you scooped from open and his phone laying open waiting for your answer to his text.

You replied to the questions he asked and Todoroki's phone buzzed on the steel countertop and he perked up immediately reaching for the electronic, slowly running out of battery.

Roki 💖🍰

Hey are you okay?

Fri 12:18

Do you like pistachios?

Oh also raisins, do you like raisins?

Probably not, no one likes raisins

I like raisins...

Anyway. Text me when you see this

Fri 18:35

Roki 💖🍰

I hope you wake up.

I wasn't supposed to get a delivery from you today

But I wish I was cause I like seeing you

You make my heart feel... weird.

Good weird

Sat 8:44

Still don't know if you like raisins and pistachios

Sat 12:27

Roki 💖🍰

It's your birthday tomorrow you know.

Sorry I didn't text yesterday but you were sleeping anyway

How can you catch tetanus so quickly

It's supposed to take 4 days dumbass.

You got it in like 1. You fainted because of the blood btw

Mon 13:21

Please just wake up for your birthday.

I have something special for you

But I need to know if you like pistachios and raisins

Mon 14:56

Roki 💖🍰

Happy Birthday (y/n)

Tue 00:00

You chuckled to yourself at the sweet messages todoroki sent you over the course of the days and glanced at the clock. "I wonder if he's still awake" you croaked and wiped your eyes from sleep then yawned filling your waterline with unnecessary tears.

Bumblebee 🍯

Hey Roki. I'm up

I like/don't like pistachios

And I like/don't like raisins

Sorry for worrying you. Promise I won't get anymore tetanus

I'm going back to sleep

Come visit tomorrow

today*

Sent

Tue 4:13

"You better not be awake dumbass" you mumbled and turned over on your pillow burying your face into the uncomfortable pancake for your head.

Seen

Tue 4:15

The baker smiled and finally started working on his surprise for you chopping his toppings and thinly slicing/ throwing away his toasted pistachios and crunching on a few raisins while working.

At 2pm he walked in and went to visit you with his surprise balancing carefully in your hand. He carefully tiptoed to your bedside and pushed your side slightly. You snorted and rolled over, opening your eye's to an amused todoroki settling himself into the chair next to your bed. "Something smells great" you muttered pushing your face back into the pillow and smiling. "Thank you for visiting" you muffled and todoroki chuckled nodding.

"Happy birthday" he smiled pulling the foil off of the top of your surprise. You peaked your eyes open and sat up smiling brightly. "I didn't know how your mum made it but I made my own recipe" he scratched the back of his head and moved to sit next to you on the mattress. He wrapped his arm around your shoulder and kissed your cheek lightly before you could take off the handheld slice you were slowly lifting to your mouth.

"My heart feels weird around you" he sighed and thumped his forehead against your shoulder and you snickered, taking a soft bite of the sticky, nostalgic cake in your grasp. "I know. Thank you for the little updates by the way, very sweet of you" you emphasised the sweet as a pun on the honey cake but of course, it flew over todoroki's head. "But yeah. Thank you for the cake it's delicious" you complimented and leaned your head on his. "Can I go back to sleep now?" you joked and he smiled and pressed you down by your hard chest and lay on top of you. "Just don't sleep for 4 days again" he mumbled nestling into your t'shirt.

You stared down at the parting in his hair with huge, round eye's and put your hands on his back, grasping them together in a hug-ish type thing. "Okay"

[lucifers-favorite-pen]

How The Obey Me Brothers Would Do in a “The Forest” AU

Fandom: Obey me

Pairings: None

Warnings: Swearing, idiocy, mild gore

The Forest was just released for the new Oculus headset, and Levi could NOT pass up this opportunity. However, it’s just his luck he got his hands on a cursed copy of the game, and ended up sucking the House of Lamentation into the game! Here’s how our favorite boys faired in the universe of “The Forest”

Lucifer:

Is pissed.

Bitches about it heavily

Is irritated that he has to find and wrangle a digital son now as well as his siblings. 

Would definitely help everyone else build a little shelter before nightfall, but would be grumbling about how much work he has to do at home and how far behind this would put him. 

Doesn’t let MC lift a finger and is 100% a mother hen the whole time. 

Seems inconvenienced by the whole cannibal thing, until he realizes magic doesn’t exist here and he has to use his melee fighting skills to kill them. Skills that are a little rusty...

Teams up with Beel to be the camp dads and take care of everyone

Super paranoid about the stability of the walls and the house at the beginning

Dies from eating a poisonous berry. He didn’t know he could be affected by poison in this game.

Over all, does his best to keep everyone alive, and feels really bad when someone dies. 

No longer feels bad when he learns that the worst thing that happens is you lose all your stuff and you respawn. 

A solid 7/10 job. Probably dies a few times due to someone else being an idiot, but is a pretty good survivalist when push comes to shove. 

Mammon:

Is also pissed

He was in the middle of counting the grimm from his latest modeling gig when he was sucked into the game.

Bitches and moans with/at Lucifer, but tries to build and maintain a shelter.

Who’s Timmy?

I don’t think crows exist in the game, but seagulls do and they all land on his fingers and he makes friends with them.

Is very upset when one of his brothers kills a bird for food or to simply carry around its head as a trophy. 

Sees cannibals and tries to trade with them with the grimm he has in his pockets.

Dies on sight.

Now when he sees or hears cannibals he screams and cowers behind MC 

When they go away or the screaming stops, he stands up straight and dusts off his jacket “Psh, I wasn’t afraid! I was trying to comfort you from behind! YOU were the one afraid”

After a while in the game, he gets his shit together and honestly kinda kills it. 

This is the avatar of greed, you know he is going to gather and horde so many valuable resources and then guard them with his life. 

“Mammon I’m hurt please stop hissing at me and let me have the medicine bottle”

*hiss* “You can have ONE pill and ONE pill only”

Over all, the definition of “They had us in the first half ngl”

8/10 for managing the group’s food and resource stores so well and only dying a fuck ton of times. 

Levi

...oops?

Feels quite guilty, but is also secretly pumped to immerse himself in the game.

Was extremely skilled at this game IRL and tries to explain how it works to everyone else, but they’re all so pissed and no one’s listening.

“That’s fine, who would want to listen to a yucky otaku like me anyway!” 

Magic doesn’t exist here, but that doesn’t stop Levi from yeeting himself into the ocean and turning into a giant sea monster while his brothers complete the game. 

They don’t want his help? They don’t want to know that the cannibals can’t swim and that they’ll be safer if they build a boat and live in a boathouse on the water? Fine. Then Perish <3

That goes for Timmy too, fuck that kid. 

Doesn’t want MC to suffer tho, so he’ll kill a few sharks and throw them up over the wall with his tail. (I’m assuming that if the game is released for Oculus Rift that they will get their shit together and also make sharks edible)

Is having a grand time taking over the ocean. 

Will sometimes go to shore to visit MC. Everyone is confused as to where he has been and how he is thriving. He just smiles and jumps back in the water.

10/10 strats. Never once dies. Tells everyone what they were doing wrong and how they could have had it easier when they beat the game and are back IRL out of spite.

Satan

Angy

Is throwing things in their spots while building the shelter, but is still helping

Spawns in with the book he was reading in his hand.

That book is eventually stolen from his grasp in the night and used as kindling for the fire.

Lucifer explains that if he didn’t steal his book they all would have died. 

Satan does not give a fuck

“Use the kid’s stupid fucking drawings you dipshit!”

“I can’t they’re story items!”

Goes on a rampage and kills so many deer, effectively feeding the group for a week.  

Sees the cannibals for the first time and thinks “same” 

Pretty good fighter and pretty resourceful when it comes to making armor and weapons. 

Outfits MC with the all of his prototypes and tells them to go run at a tree

“How do you feel, MC?”

“Like I ran at a tree with a deer skin on my chest”

“Interesting”

Very upset at the whole no magic thing, but will work with it.

Over all, 7/10 job. Dies a couple times from cannibals and the other monsters, but makes it to the end.

Asmo

Oh dear. 

Oh dear this sweet summer child. 

“Why are we looking for this child when he’s so ugly?”

Is distraught and so very upset this is happening to him. Cries variations of “woe is me” for the first five hours of game play

Does not help build a shelter

Does not help gather food and resources

Does not help period. Only whines. 

Sees cannibals sprinting and jumping towards the shelter and pushes Lucifer in front of him

“Take him! I’m too pretty to die!”

“HEY!”

What follows after the first three days is a slow decent into madness. 

Ends up butt ass naked for the majority of the game because the clothes he spawned in with were ripped to shreds and “No animal skin clothing in this world is good enough to adorn my perfect body”

Starts speaking to the animals and becomes friends with all of them like a Disney Princess. 

The animals come to his aid when he lets out a specific shriek that calls them to his side.

Spends his time weaving flower crowns for MC, his brothers, and his animal friends. 

Everyone knows he’s snapped when Beel brings back the dead body of a cannibal and Asmo dips his dirty little finger into an open wound and wipes the blood on his lips. 

“I just love this shade! Don’t you?” 

5/10 job. Dies multiple times from trying to befriend hostile animals, but also has an army of woodland creatures at his disposal by the end of the game.

Beel

Bro you know this mans is about to make this game his bitch

Spawns in with a cheeseburger.

Eats the cheeseburger.

“I have a son?”

“I HAVE A SON :D”

“Where is my son?”

Honestly the thought of Beel in this game is so sexy like I’m simping so hard rn 

Grab your water skins and buckle up bc it’s about to get thirsty up in here y’all

A shirt? Beel doesn’t know what those are anymore

He crafts one of those shoulder harnesses out of hide and bone and sticks a bone shiv thing on the forearm 

Don’t mess with this demon when his dinner and his family is on the line.

Is not afraid of anything except the death of his loved ones.

Cannibals? Nah, dinner.

Other monsters? Nah, dinner. 

Full shirtless lumberjack mode with Lucifer, and later Mammon, when cutting down trees in the forest. MC is drooling. 

Definitely makes a game out of how many trees they can all chop down before giving up.

Plays knuckle bones with Belphie and MC using real knuckle bones. 

Doesn’t want to share his food with the others but will if they didn’t get anything to eat that day. 

Chef Beel. That’s it that’s the post. 

10/10 job. Only dies once throwing his body over Belphie’s sleeping one to save him. 

Get’s annoyed when he finds out Belphie was fake sleeping

Very sexy. Would watch. 

Belphie

Nah dude no thanks 

Alexa play “Wake Me Up When September Ends”

Alexa play “Billie Jean”

“And the kid is not my son”

Get’s so fucking pissed when he finds out he can’t sleep without everyone else deciding to sleep too so he just lays down with his eyes closed and hopes for the best.

Doesn’t help with anything unless someone asks him to

Even then he’ll roll his eyes like brat and slowly do it

An actual sloth

No like he clings to MC and Beel like a sleepy sloth 100% of the time

He can’t find any cows and is sad so he settles for the local deer instead. 

Fake sleeps through most of the whole thing, paying monster and cannibals alike absolutely no mind. Beel will take care of it.

Freaks the fuck out when Beel dies on top of him and goes into a rage and kills everything in sight. 

Very sweet reunion when he realizes that they just respawn.

No longer pays death any mind and continues fake sleeping. 

0/10. Virtually useless. 

Masterpost

[fabulouspotatosister]

just for a day

summary: What’s a little acting between friends? If friends was even the right word.

word count: (idk yet man lol ) 3,373

request:  Hello! I just wanna say your writing is absolutely amazing! If I may, could I request an 11 x reader where the reader’s friends keep bugging them to get a boyfriend, but they say they already do and they have to ask the Doctor to be their “boyfriend” (kind of like with Clara at the beginning of Time Of The Doctor) and eventually leads to feelings being spilt? If not, that’s perfectly fine!

a/n: this got WAYYY too long and for that i am so sorry lmao. i’m writing and posting this on the same day so if there are many mistakes or it doesn’t make sense that’s on me. anyway, i hope you enjoy this fic!

gif credit: @pavel-chekovs

~

“You’re back!”

 You’d expected screaming. You’d expected yelling, and a fair dose of pterodactyl-esque screeching from the students in your advisory class, but what you weren’t expecting was crying. And lots of it. Nearly every fresh-faced elementary student was in tears, some sobbing quietly and some full-on bawling as soon as you walked through the door.

It was nice, cute even, but honestly a little disconcerting.

 “Hi, everyone,” you said, shutting the door carefully behind you. The sight of their crying faces immediately activated your Parent Mode. “Are you all okay?”

 “Perfectly fine!” Marih chirped, president of the class and therefore a little more levelheaded than the rest, which earned her a handful of disagreeing sighs. “What? Guys, you look ridiculous crying,” she continued, as she wiped her cheeks with the back of her palms and gave you a toothy grin. “We’re just happy you’re here again.”

 You smiled at her, and reached out to pat the top of her head. “That’s great and all, but it’s like you guys haven’t seen me in ages.”

 A heavy silence fell over the whole class. You saw students shift in their seats and look down at the floor, suddenly very interested in their black school shoes. Even Jaden, the class’s resident troublemaker, didn’t say a word. Marih cringed, ran a hand through her long dark hair, and smoothed the front of her checkered uniform.

 “How long have I been gone?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. Marih seemed to cringe away at the question. “I thought I was only travelling for a week!”

 “Actually,” Marih said, stretching out the word, “you’ve been gone for three months?”

Your mouth fell open. You stared at her for a moment, dumbfounded, before you dug into your pocket and fished out your phone – she was right, it had been exactly three months and a week since you’d left the school to go travelling.

 You groaned. “Oh, I’m going to kill him.”

 By travelling, you meant time travelling and by him you meant the Doctor. The madman in a box that you’d run off with. You had let him turn your life upside down in the best way possible since he dragged you into the TARDIS, with his stupidly gorgeous smile and eyes and – you were getting off topic. Now you were plotting the murder of the man that you would consider to be the most incredible thing that had ever happened to you.

 “Hey, ma’am?” came a soft voice from the front of the room. Karyll, with her tied-back hair and glasses, looked up at you from her seat. “Why are you looking like you’re going to kill someone?”

 “’Cause I am,” you said cheerily, shoving your phone back into your pocket. Oh, you were going to have words with him, and they would most definitely not be nice ones. “Have I missed anything big? Were you nice to my substitute?”

 A collective wave of disagreement swept over the class, and you couldn’t help but let a smile slip onto your face. These were your babies after all, and if you’d really been gone for three months then they were sorely missing their Second Mom.

 Maybe the tears weren’t that much of a surprise after all.

 “Okay, good morning everyone! Now, if we’re still on schedule, and I really hope we are, we should be talking about integers…”

 The late afternoon sun drifted through the curtains of your classroom, filling the room with an almost hazy glow as you sat with your best friends in a haphazard circle of desks. Your kids had all gone home already, and a little pile of flowers and chocolates sat neatly on your shelves, right beside your lesson plan folders.

 Denise leaned forward to look at them, her curly hair falling over her face. She was the elementary students’ science teacher, and was so well-organized it was almost inhuman. She would have liked the planet where everything was arranged alphabetically, you thought.

 “I’m jealous, my students never give me gifts,” she said as she leaned away. “Sis, where have you even been?”

 “Long story,” you replied, and it was. You weren’t sure if you could fit everything you’d been through – travelling through time, going to planets lightyears away, and of course all of the near-death experiences – into a story that you could tell in under an hour, and you weren’t going to try.

 “And you’ve been travelling? By yourself?” Julianne, an arts teacher, raised her eyebrows at you from behind her laptop. “God, that’s lonely. Oh – unless…” Her calm expression morphed into something truly evil in your line of work – mischievousness. “Unless you had someone with you.”

 “I mean –” Oh no, this was going to be hard to get out of. “I mean, I wasn’t alone,” you said, hoping the smile on your face was enough to mask your utter fear. You knew exactly where Julianne was going and you hated it. “I was with someone.”

 “Ooh,” Julianne said, her grin growing so sly it was sending shivers up your spine. “You’ve been gone three months, has anything happened between you and your travel buddy?”

 Heat rushed to your face. If you were a cartoon character steam would be pouring from your ears. “Why would you say something like that?”

 Julianne shrugged. “We’ve been telling you to get a boyfriend for so long. You said you’d be gone a week, and then you disappear for three months… that kinda says something, don’t you think, Denise?”

 “Definitely.” Denise grinned, and you shot her a helpless look.

 “We’re doing this because we love you,” Julianne sang. The light from her laptop was enough to make her look absolutely menacing. “So? Travel buddy? Or more than that?”

 The Doctor wasn’t just a travel buddy, and he was so much more than that – but you hadn’t found the words for what he meant to you, at least not yet. Companion was enough for you and him, but even then, there was a weight to that word. And there was definitely a weight to your partnership, but you wouldn’t call it… dating.

 Julianne simply waggled her perfectly shaped eyebrows at you. You swallowed. You and the Doctor were a long story too, and Julianne wasn’t going to be happy with “maybe” for an answer.

 The words were out of your mouth before you could stop yourself. “Fine, he’s my boyfriend!”

 I want to crawl into a hole and die was your inner monologue, and your background music was Julianne and Denise’s raucous laughter. I want to crawl into a hole and never have to face the world ever again.

 --

 Smash cut to you, standing nervously in your bedroom, gripping your phone so tightly you were sure it was going to break. Your plans of killing the Doctor for dropping you off late would have to wait. The phone rung once, twice, and you chewed your lip. If he was in the Time Vortex, any version of him could answer the phone and you couldn’t deal with that on top of everything, not today at least –

 “Hello?”

 You heaved a sigh of relief at the sound of the Doctor, your Doctor’s voice. “Help?” you squeaked out.

 “Help?” the Doctor repeated. There was a blaring noise, and then the sound of electricity crackling. Something fizzled and popped, and the Doctor shouted something that sounded like a swear. “Oh, shut it – you – sorry, sorry. You were saying?”

 “Uh, where are you right now? Are you somewhere?” you asked.

 “I’m not somewhere, I’m drifting! Right above Earth, approximately right where you are,” he said. You could hear the smile in his voice. It quelled your anxiety somewhat. “I’m doing maintenance. Agh – ow! I think I can see the roof of your house through the clouds, unless that’s someone else’s house. What color is your roof?”

 You giggled. “It’s brown. You’re in the same time as me?”

 “’Course I am,” the Doctor said. You heard the clanging sound of metal being dropped. “I never left.”

 The Doctor liked to run off on his own when you were home and have his own mini-adventures. He liked to come back and say he’d spent his time with alien royalty, or something like that. But instead he was staying put, he was waiting, for you. It made the next part so much harder.

 “I need you to be my boyfriend,” you said quickly, covering your burning face with your free hand.

 “Oh,” the Doctor said simply. Another clang.

 Oh? “Just for a day,” you coughed. “I kind of said that I had a boyfriend, and that he was my travel buddy, and now my friends kind of want to meet you. It’s my grade’s family day tomorrow, maybe you could, uh, show up?”

 “And be your boyfriend,” the Doctor said.

 You nodded, then, “And be my boyfriend. Just for the day. You never have to show up again.”

There was a beat of silence, and for a second you thought the Doctor was going to say no – he had every right to, of course, and you could just lie and say that he couldn’t show up – but the Doctor laughed, cheerful and warm. “Ding-dong! Okay! What time tomorrow? I have to study, I’m a bit rusty in places.”

 Your mouth fell open for the second time in twenty-four hours. “You’re serious?”

 “Very! Any pet name preferences?”

 You groaned loudly, and the Doctor laughed again. “Shut up!”

 “Alright, alright. Guess I’ll have to do my own research.”

 There was another moment of silence, and when the Doctor spoke again, it was much softer, much less playful. His voice almost sounded fond. “Goodnight?”

 “Goodnight, Doctor,” you said softly, and the call cut off with a series of short beeps.

 --

 Was it a surprise that you barely slept at all? You had spent the whole night with your imagination running at full capacity, your mind latching onto every single thought and concept it could come up with. You slipped in and out of sleep, lying still in bed whenever a possibility popped into your head. To say you were nervous was the understatement of the year – but what was a little acting between friends?

 If friends was the right word for it.

 You waited for the Doctor behind the school, leaning against the concrete wall and watching the TARDIS fade into this plane. Wind blew into your face as the TARDIS groaned and wheezed, eventually materializing in front of you.

 “I’m not late, am I?” the Doctor said, sticking his head out of the TARDIS doors. He grinned widely, his hair falling into his face. You grinned back at him and pushed yourself off the wall.

 “You’re early, which is a first,” you said. The Doctor frowned at you, stepped carefully out of the TARDIS, and frowned some more. “Don’t look at me like that.”

 “I think I’ve earned the right to look at you however I’d like,” the Doctor huffed, adjusting his bowtie. He’d ditched the tweed for the day, it seemed, going with a long green coat that annoyingly complimented his eyes. The frown didn’t last very long, though, because he went right back to grinning brightly at you. He held out his elbow in your direction. “Shall we?”

 “Here’s the lucky girl,” Julianne cooed as you walked into the empty canteen. All the tables were pushed aside to make space for all the games you’d be playing – in the corner of your eye, you saw the Doctor light up at the sight of all of the streamers and balloons. “And here’s the lucky boy – oh my god, Denise.”

 “What?” Denise popped up from behind a large speaker, then blanched. “Oh, now I’m double jealous.”

 The Doctor pulled away from you to lightly kiss both of Julianne’s cheeks in greeting. Julianne looked positively starstruck when he stepped back to stand beside you, quickly waving Denise over. Denise had her mouth hanging open, still clutching a microphone in her hands.

 “Hi,” you said, gesturing at the Doctor, “here’s my boyfriend.”

 The Doctor raised his hand and smiled. “Hello! I’m John Smith, lovely to meet you both. You’re my girlfriend’s girl friends, I assume?”

 “Uh –” Denise blinked owlishly. “Yeah, we are.” Then, quietly and to herself, “Holy moly.”

 You couldn’t help but grin at their flabbergasted faces. The Doctor rested his hand on the small of your back, and you leaned into his touch as if it was the most normal thing in the universe. That was enough to make Denise stumble into Julianne, who barely even reacted, as she was still staring wide-eyed at the both of you.

 “I think we caught them off guard,” you said. The Doctor chuckled and leaned down to kiss the top of your head.

 “You did when we met, sweetheart,” the Doctor said smoothly. Sweetheart echoed in your ears and bounced off the walls of your already racing mind. Your heart stuttered in your chest. That was bad.

 “Oh, are we doing charm now?” you asked. “Are you trying to be charming?”

 “I did say I would study,” the Doctor said.

 “You guys are insufferable,” Denise said, but she was beaming at you. “If you could get your hands off of your travel buddy for just a few minutes, I need help with the mics, the families are gonna be here any minute…”

 Her voice trailed off as she walked back to the speaker. You stood on your tiptoes to kiss the Doctor’s cheek, feeling his skin heat up underneath your lips. “See you later.”

 “…See you,” the Doctor echoed, and bent down to kiss your cheek too. He turned on his heel and walked towards the decorations, softly muttering, “Ooh, balloons! Love a good balloon…”

 You stared at him for longer than you should have, watching him poke and prod at the balloons lying on the tables. He put his face very close to one and smiled at his reflection in the plastic. Affection welled up in your chest, and a tiny smile slipped onto your face.

 “Look at you, you’re smiling at him,” Julianne chimed, sidling up to you and nudging your side. “That’s disgusting.”

 “Says the girl who said I needed to get a boyfriend,” you shot back.

 The Doctor went still for a little bit and turned to face you, smiled and winked, then went right back to inspecting balloons. Julianne made a strangled noise, and you made one too. So he was doing charm, and you hated to admit that it was absolutely working on you.  

 “I meant to say disgustingly adorable,” Julianne said. “You’re so lucky.”

 You gave him another glance as you walked away to help Denise with the mics – “help with the mics” was apparently code for “I’m going to tease you more about your new boyfriend”  which wasn’t helped by the fact that every so often, the Doctor would look in your direction and just smile, which was enough to make you stumble over your own words and give Denise more teasing fodder.

 The parents and their kids eventually filed into the canteen and you flipped into Teacher Mode. You stood next to your students, pinched their cheeks and then greeted all of the parents and got everyone ready for the program. (You didn’t notice how the Doctor mirrored you, standing a little far away and watching, a dumb smile on his face.)

 Julianne and Denise were the emcees for the family day, big smiles on their faces as they rounded up everyone for the games. At the mere mention of games, the Doctor was back at your side at an instant, his eyes glittering with excitement.

 “Please don’t destroy the kids,” you pleaded.

 “No promises,” he replied, and then proceeded to destroy the kids in most of the games.

 The first game had Julianne call out for whoever could bring an item of her choice to the table – the Doctor, with his coat that was surely bigger on the inside, had no trouble pulling out whatever was asked. Even when Julianne started to test the waters and ask for increasingly insane items, the Doctor just kept going. He jumped in joy like a little kid at the win, bounding up to you and pressing a kiss to your cheek. You’d just blushed and smiled, ignoring the butterflies that were multiplying in your stomach.

 The Doctor holding your hand wasn’t new. The Doctor being close to you wasn’t new. The Doctor being affectionate with you wasn’t new. But now it was all under the guise of being your boyfriend. Of course it felt different, but to your surprise and growing horror, it didn’t feel bad.

 The Doctor shouting your name snapped you out of your thoughts. He was standing on a piece of newspaper as Denise started to get music ready, waving his arms to beckon you over. His coat was gone, thrown onto a nearby table, and even without it he was dashing.

 “I need you over here!” he yelled, still jumping excitedly. His hair bounced up and down with the movement. “I need a partner!”

 You let your feet carry you to him, trying to ignore the stares pointed your way. The Doctor took your hand in his and pulled you onto the newspaper.

 “Stay close,” the Doctor said. “I’ve got this.”

 Loud, thumping music filled the air. The Doctor spun you around and you squealed in surprise, moving your feet clumsily to the music. Suddenly, it stopped, and the Doctor pulled you back onto the newspaper. It was a tight fit, and you had to press yourself against his body to even stay standing. The butterflies in your stomach went crazy at the contact, and once again you tried to ignore that, too.

 “What did I say?” the Doctor breathed, his breath tickling your ear, his smile wide and manic. “Let’s dance!”

 The paper got smaller and smaller, and the two of you got closer and closer. Sweat started to bead on your forehead, and the Doctor had rolled his sleeves up in the middle of all the chaos. In the end, it was just you and another pair of parents, tiptoeing on their own folded pieces of newspaper.

 “I’ve got an idea,” the Doctor said, his voice loud over the music. “When the music stops, jump into my arms.”

 “Seriously?!” you shouted, and the Doctor nodded enthusiastically. “You’ve got the balance of a drunk giraffe! You’ll drop me!”

 “Do you trust me?” the Doctor asked.

 There wasn’t any question. “I do!”

 “Then jump!”

 The music stopped, and in the split second where the Doctor stepped onto the now-tiny folded newspaper, you ran and leapt. For a moment, it seemed like he wouldn’t be able to catch you at all, and in your mind you could already see it – you crashing into him and sending you both tumbling to the floor.

 The Doctor’s arms shot out and caught you. Cheers erupted from everyone in the canteen, and behind you your competitors both lost their balance and fell face-first onto the floor. You wrapped your arms around the Doctor’s neck to steady yourself in his arms, feeling him shake slightly as he kept you aloft.

 “We won!” you gasped, still basking in all of the cheering. “As expected from my lovely boyfriend.”

 The words left your mouth as easily as breathing. You smiled up at the Doctor, breathless from all of the dancing. His skin shone with sweat, his hair was a mess, and his bowtie was askew, but even that was enough to make you throw all caution to the wind – still in his arms, you pulled him down and kissed him.

 Cheers erupted from everyone again, but you could care less. The room could be empty and nothing would have changed. As cliché as it sounded, all the mattered was the feeling of the Doctor’s lips against yours. Your hands found their way into his hair and he melted into your touch, pulling you closer to him.

 “You know,” the Doctor breathed as he pulled away, “I don’t want this to be just for a day.”

 “Good,” you replied. You leaned up to press a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Because I don’t either.”

[ilkkawhat]

"How long have you had this planned?" "Since the moment I fell in love with you."

(For MacDalton)

[two things: one, this is like the first time I've written them in over three months so I apologize if I'm a bit rusty and two: I just straight up invented a new music venue for the sake of plot. I hope you enjoy Nade!!!]

If there’s one thing Jack’s learned in all of his years of knowing Angus Macgyver, it’s that for certain anniversaries; be it birthdays, deathdays, randomly constituted holidays mostly created on Jack’s behalf such as Bruce Willis’ birthday or the day Die Hard premiered in theaters, it’s that Mac is very...picky when it comes to his sentiments.

He loves a good party, sure, but doesn’t necessarily enjoy birthdays—at least his own, because he still always puts forth effort for others’ to ensure they have a good time.

He believes in Santa Claus, with what he thinks is irrefutable scientific proof, but doesn't believe in the other innocent childish entities such as the Tooth Fairy or the Easter Bunny, agreeing with Jack that the Tooth Fairy is nothing more than a unwanted home invader in the form of a lying parent and the Easter Bunny is just downright made to terrify children with mall photos.

Hell, he at times even downplays the importance of Cairo Day, willing to work instead of lazing around the deck with a six pack and bags of takeout delivered by Jack himself—and while there really was an emergency this time around that left both of them bruised and battered and shaken with the sight of a gutshot Bozer, it ended up being the perfectly bided time for something he’s had planned for, well...for a long while, now.

That, and he’ll be able to kill two birds with one stone, embarking on a road trip to find a long lost father that he already knew Jack would join him on before he even said a single word, and in turn take Jack on a trip he never quite expected to have. One without any hiccups, not even an improvisation. Perfectly planned and tailored to the man he both owes his life to, and wants to devote his life to.

He asks Jack to take a pit stop on their cross-country road trip—immediately dispelling Jack’s insistence of hitting up the casinos in Vegas with teasing argument that he’d lose all of their money for food and gas no matter how many times Jack explains that he knows the “system,” but once their banter fades back into the comfortable silence, he directs Jack past the state of Nevada and into the southerner’s own home state—the Lonestar state.

“Texas? You really think Daddy Mac might be hiding in a hole in Texas?”

Mac shrugs coyly and Jack grins.

“Don’t matter anyhow, been wantin’ to take you back down here anyway. Mama’s missed having a scrawny kid to cook for,” Jack teases with a wink.

“Well good, cause we gotta swing by your casa and pick somethin’ up real quick,” Mac puts on a faithful imitation of the Texan’s accent, and Jack beams.

“Going native, huh, hoss? What do we gotta pick up?”

“Your guitar.”

“My guitar?” Jack’s eyes narrow behind the large yellow lens of his aviators and gives up trying to ask why because Mac keeps his lips sealed.

They just keep driving instead, down a long country road with the appropriate tunes to accompany this feeling; Mac’s hair flowing in the wind, Jack casually driving with one hand on the wheel and the other on Mac’s knee, a wide grin on both of their faces as they watch the sun set and the beautiful unseen stars in the sky rise out to greet them.

And a robot in the backseat, but he’s smart enough to know when to stay quiet and just enjoy the moment.

They make it to Jack’s home, an intended short visit turns into almost an entire day and while Mac is never the one to make excuses to leave, he tries to come up with as many as he can to make it to their destination on time.

Fortunately, he also got Mama Dalton and Jack’s sister in on it too, which does make it just a little easier and Mac promises that they’ll come back on the way home after nearly having to drag Jack out of the beloved ranch home.

He won’t be so grumpy once he sees what I got planned, Mac has to remind himself, because his light layer of deception does hurt him as much as it hurts Jack.

Another reason he wasn’t a fan of the “surprise” element of having a birthday. There’s an almost malicious level of teasing to making sure the birthday boy or girl doesn’t suspect a thing.

But he knows Jack, and knows he has to be suspecting something, evident by his sudden bitterness in their usually laid back banter.

“You’re just getting tired of driving is all,” Mac tries to reason with him.

“Me? I ain’t tired. You’re the one who’s tired, want me to tuck you in the back?” Jack sneers.

“How am I supposed to give you directions then?”

“I got Spanky back there—”

“Sparky.”

“Whatever. And where is it that we’re going anyway, Mac?”

“Up there,” Mac smiles when he sees the building in the distance, the GPS on his phone indicating they’re only mere minutes away.

“Wuh—No. No!” Jack gapes and Mac burst out in glee. “What are we doing at the Armadillo II?”

The Armadillo II, being a freshly renovated bar and music hall was built as an homage to the Amradillo World Headquarters, which Jack often talked about having gone to as a young kid, wishing it had lasted longer before being turned into an office building—something he often compared to the transition of childhood to adulthood itself.

“Beer and music, what else would you do?”

“Yeah, but I mean, how does this relate to…”

“It doesn’t. It’s just for you. For us,” Mac grips Jack’s hand and gently kisses him on the cheek. “Making up for Cairo Day.”

“Aw, gee, Mac,” Jack’s eyes are glistening, his teeth shining under the bright moonlight in the brightest smile. “You shouldn’t have!”

They’re greeted by a bouncer who holds up a hand to Jack’s chest as he was ready to strut his way in.

“Tickets,” the bouncer grunts.

“Ah, damn, don’t have ‘em on me, but I know the owner—” Jack starts to ramble, ready to sneak their way in but surprisingly, Mac has two ticket stubs.

“Where’d you get those?”

“From my pocket,” Mac says simply and pushes Jack into the building.

“Ladies and gentlemen, the concert will begin in fifteen minutes, please fill you drinks and take your seats!”

“Concert, what concert?” Jack shouts as he takes in the room, taking the chair closest to the door at the table that Mac directs them to.

“See that banner?” Mac nods up to the stage.

Willie Nelson.

Jack knew of course, that Willie Nelson would occasionally come out for a concert or two, usually to fundraise for his acts of activism—and even if he couldn’t attend he’d always try to send some money for the cause, but never, and he really means never in his right mind did he ever think this would happen.

“I love you, Mac,” Jack breathes, and the concert begins.

A few songs in, Willie slows down to a gentle strum on his guitar, and the lights dim to match an intimate, romantic atmosphere.

“Now, this next song is called ‘A Song for You,’ although, it is my honor to make a slight alteration to the title for one of our country’s greatest unsung heroes. A guy with a name that sounds like it’d be on the menu at Carl’s Junior came up to me on the street the other day—”

The crowd laughs at the name joke, and so does Mac but Jack’s jaw is hung open, no sound coming out which makes Mac laugh even harder because he knows it’s all coming together.

“He told me his story, their story and well, now it’s my turn to tell y’all that story too. This here is a song for you, Jack Dalton.”

“No. Fucking. Way!” Jack breathlessly gasps, his fingers shaking, his eyes watery and red. Mac puts his hand on Jack’s knee, and Jack sandwiches it with his own. It’s not until the song is over that he’s able to speak again, wiping the tears from his eyes as the crowd applauds.

“When the hell didja manage to talk to Willie Nelson?”

“On my way back from Siberia. Made a pit stop.”

“And now, it’s my greatest pleasure to welcome onto the stage, the man himself—”

“Mac…” Jack starts slapping, clawing at Mac is if to bring him back to life because this sure as hell feels like he’s died and gone to heaven—though he knows, and Mac knows, that will never happen.

Jack Dalton will never die.

And even if he did, he’d never go into that light without Mac by his side, and because of that, because they’re alive, they both feel unstoppable, almost youthfully immortal in that sense—if they were going to die, they would have kicked the bucket by now, surely.

“Come on up here, Jack!” Willie calls and Jack just cannot believe it, especially not when that same bouncer comes up behind him holding his own guitar that he had stashed away in the back of his GTO.

“How long have you been planning this?” Jack asks wildly as he rises from his seat.

“Since the moment I fell in love with you,” Mac replies, and rises with him, sending him to the stage after a good luck kiss. “Which was basically when you played Willie Nelson every day in the Sandbox.”

[anubislover]

Welcome to the Heart Pirates, Nami-ya chapter 19: Lying Hearts

“How can anyone stand to live in a city like this?” Nami grumbled as the light glinted off of yet another painfully white building. True, the setting sun had lessened the glare slightly, but after an entire afternoon of it, she was developing quite the headache, even with the sunglasses.

Law shrugged and continued walking at a leisurely pace, still unaffected. “I’m sure if you’re born somewhere like this it’s easier, but people can learn to tolerate almost anything given enough time, I suppose.”

“Do you think you’d be able to learn to tolerate bread?”

“I said almost. I’d sooner die of starvation.”

She shook her head with a chuckle but kept pace, following his lead. Instead of heading straight back to the submarine, Law had insisted on a few detours through Atifakuto—partially in case anyone had grown suspicious and decided to follow them, but also to scope out potential escape routes under the guise of sightseeing. Nami, for her part, had been exceedingly helpful in this, mapping out in her head which stairways lead where and pointing out various places to hide. If Law found her compliance suspicious, he didn’t say anything; it was in their best interest to work together, especially with some potentially valuable goods on the line, so her behavior was easily rationalized.

For her, however, there was more than artifacts or even belli at stake. This heist had to go well. She needed Law to trust her enough to open up about why he was so obsessed with Amber Lead. Perhaps if he could do that, she wouldn’t even have to sneak into his quarters to take a look at the ledgers. She could just ask and he’d let her in like a rational human being.

Of course, in order for either of their plans to succeed they needed to know where the vase was. Luckily, the rest of the Hearts hadn’t been sitting idle on the submarine. They’d been investigating every possible gallery, art collector, museum, and auction house their prize could possibly be at. The second they had a lead, they’d call on the mini Den Den Mushi.

Until then, though, Law and Nami were forced to meander about the city, planning and killing time.

“So, while we wait for some intel, what else are you going to buy me?” she asked as they wandered the fourth level. They’d passed quite a few shops, and while most had stocked dull business suits similar to the last store, Nami felt her bags were tragically light. They were in a beautiful-if-blinding city, and she was walking away with only one outfit? What a travesty.

Snorting dismissively, Law glanced down at her with a clear look of are you kidding me? on his face. “Nothing. I told you I was only getting you one outfit. I’m your captain, not your sugar daddy.”

“You know, for a man who wants this little job to go well, you’re not putting in nearly the effort you should,” she quipped, a sly smile on her lips, eyelashes fluttering prettily. “I’m supposed to look professional and put together if I’m gonna pull off being your lovely assistant. That means I need matching shoes and accessories. Maybe a cute leather purse or briefcase to really sell it.”

“If you want those so badly then buy them yourself. Or,” he smirked, halting his pace to turn around and catch her chin between his fingers, tilting her head up towards him as he stepped in close enough so she could feel his body heat, “you earn them by doing certain favors for daddy.”

Her cheeks only pinkened a little at his innuendos while she stuck out her tongue and shoved him away. Last night’s dream wasn’t quite as close to the forefront of her mind anymore, but that didn’t mean his smirk didn’t do things to her she’d rather ignore. “Pass. You should know by now that it takes more than clothes for me to play nice.”

“Mmm, I do. That’s what makes it so much fun,” he purred, gold eyes glinting in wicked amusement. One gloved hand was shoved into his pocket while his free arm slung itself casually over her shoulder as he continued stalking along the fastidiously clean road. “But since you’re currently insisting on being a strong, independent woman who doesn’t need a man to provide for her, you can instead borrow some shoes from Ikkaku, and she might still have a pair of glasses or something from the time she pretended to be a receptionist at a Naval base.”

Brown eyes widened at his statement. Not because he was suggesting that she borrow clothes or anything, but the bombshell he’d just casually dropped in light of her recent discovery.

“Was this for one of your plans?” she asked, shoulders stiffening.

He shrugged like it was no big deal, though he did give her a curious glance at the way she tensed beneath him. “Yeah. We needed someone on the inside, and they’d put out an advertisement for an attractive female in her early twenties. It’s not like Uni or Penguin could do it.”

“But…holy shit, Law, are you serious?” she hissed, dragging him over to an unoccupied part of the street behind a solitary gated tree so she could scold him in private. There weren’t too many people about, but the last thing they need was to get unwanted attention because they’d caused a scene, even if Law totally deserved to get chewed out at the top of her lungs for being such an asshole. “Ikkaku has Marine brothers who want her dead and you sent her into the lion’s den? What the fuck?!”

Caught off-guard by her anger, Law’s eyebrows shot up briefly before furrowing. “She told you about them?”

Damn. In her shock and anger on her friend’s behalf, she’d forgotten that this was a subject she wasn’t technically supposed to know. But instead of admitting guilt, she doubled down and threw on her best poker face.

“Yeah. She told me,” she lied easily. Too easily. It came as naturally as it had back in the days she’d been working under Arlong, getting close to pirates by lying through her teeth and then robbing them blind. How many crews and captains had she deceived before Luffy? Nami had honestly lost count, but once she’d joined up with the Straw Hats, lying to a supposed ally hadn’t been quite as instinctual.

But this isn’t Luffy, and Law’s keeping way more secrets than I am, she rationalized. It’s just a little white lie anyway. He’d be way more pissed at Shachi and Penguin for telling me. I’m looking after those guys.

Law’s expression hardened, and for a moment she wondered if he’d seen through her bluff. She didn’t think she’d gotten too rusty in the lying department, but Law was smart and distrusting in general, so she couldn’t quite tell. Trepidation hung heavy in the air as she waited for him to speak, mind going a mile a minute coming up with new lies and explanations to appease him. Worse came to worst, she could throw the guys under the bus, even if she didn’t really want to, but they were his best friends, so Law would doubtlessly be more forgiving towards them, right?

Thankfully, it seemed his anger came from a completely different place, as he snarled quietly through clenched teeth, “Nami-ya, I am, as you have pointed out rather frequently in the past, a control freak. Do you really think I would devise a plan that required sending my top mechanic into a Marine base if there was even a chance she could be recognized? Especially by her utter shit of a brother?”

She flinched at the vitriol in his voice. It seemed she’d touched a nerve, and unless she wanted to lose all the progress she’d worked for, she knew it was best to back down. “Sorry. You’re right.”

“I’ll accept your apology if you tell me what prompted her to tell you,” he stated, crossing his arms. “It’s not information she makes widely known, even to those who are permanent members of my crew.”

Well. At least this was easy enough to justify, and she’d be doing both Law and Ikkaku a favor, right? Sure, the guys would obviously tell him later, but being the first to warn him might earn her a few more crumbs of trust. “There was an article in the paper about Marine reinforcements coming to the Grand Line. Ushi was interviewed. He seemed pretty intent on taking down the Heart Pirates.”

Law froze, his frown deepening into a dark sneer. The tic in his jaw and the way his fists clenched reminded her of his reaction to Ikkaku having been attacked on Grimm. “That fucker will stay away from Ikkaku if he’s got any brains in him.”

“You’re pretty protective of her,” she said. Sure, he’d perhaps phrased his defense in a way that implied his priority was the plan, it was clear from the hiss in his voice that Ikkaku’s safety had been genuinely considered.

The brim of his hat hid his eyes as he stated, “I’m protective of all my crew. She’s just…it’s hard to find submarine engineers, let alone ones as skilled as her. Ikkaku’s hard to replace.”

Well that stinks to high heaven of bullshit, she thought. Sure, the Surgeon of Death had a rightly-earned cruel reputation, but he’d shown time and again his crew meant a lot to him. Stepping in close, she used her finger to lift his hat enough to see his expression unobstructed. “Is that why you let her sass you? Because if she walked you’d be dead in the water?”

The gold orbs glared down at her, though the held no heat. “Everyone on the crew is a vital component. Like gears in a well-oiled machine. You’ve gotta take care of them to make sure they don’t break.”

When Nami merely raised a disbelieving eyebrow, he sighed, body deflating slightly. “Look, Nami-ya, everyone on my crew, we’ve all got shit in our pasts. Some have overcome it. Some still carry the scars. Ikkaku…hers is one of the few that’s actively still trying to get her. So yeah, maybe I’m a bit more protective, but it’s for a damn good reason.”

Ok, now that was a fair point. “I’m surprised you haven’t just killed him.”

“Oh, I want to,” he snarled. “No brother should try to hurt their siblings. They’re supposed to look after them. The only reason Ushi-ya still draws breath is because Ikkaku begged me to spare his pathetic life.”

It suddenly dawned on Nami that, despite his criticizing Luffy for not being more bloodthirsty, Law was…surprisingly merciful in his own ways, too. He didn’t murder Ikkaku’s brother, despite having clear reason to, just because she asked. He rescued Jean Bart from a life of slavery despite not knowing him. And while she didn’t fully understand the Ope Ope no Mi’s powers, she wondered if his cuts didn’t draw blood because he didn’t want them to?

She wasn’t sure if he had a complexity addiction or if he genuinely wanted to minimize bloodshed, but once again another side of the incredibly fascinating man had been revealed.

Taking a deep breath to calm his anger, he gave Nami a sadistic smile. “Doesn’t mean I let him off the hook with a sternly-worded warning, though. Wanna know what I did to him the last time we met?”

Nami turned a bit green as she remembered Jinzo’s still-beating heart in his hands. Complex and caring towards his crew or not, he was still a twisted bastard. “Fuck no!”

Briefly he pouted at not getting to regale her with the gory details before shrugging. “Pity. It was quite the eventful evening. In fact, it was also the night of mine and Drake-ya’s first kiss.”

“How the hell are those two things connected?!”

“Well, I had to distract him somehow. He was guarding my poor mechanic like a dragon would a virtuous princess.”

Before she could demand more details, or even snort at the idea of Ikkaku being virtuous, the sound of the mini Den Den Mushi reached their ears, interrupting the conversation.

Looking around to make sure there weren’t any eavesdroppers, Law pulled out the little snail phone and clicked down on the top. “Guessing you’ve got something for me?”

“I do,” the snail answered, and Nami recognized the faint accent that indicated they were speaking to Cousteau. “Only one place that specializes in North Blue history. Jubilee & Atlas Antiques. It’s an auction house and gallery on the fifth level, a block away from the Elevate Deliverer Restoration Church.”

“Well that’s a needlessly long name,” he quipped, rolling his eyes. Mentally, Nami had to agree, though it also sounded vaguely familiar. “At least that makes it easier to find. Anything else I should know? Other landmarks, nearby guard stations, that sort of thing?”

There was a moment of hesitation before Cousteau replied, “No station, though there would probably be at least a few guards wandering around at night. It’s, uh, right by a fountain. Blessings from the White City.”

Nami’s eyes widened a little. Oh. Now she remembered. That had been the church with the huge stained-glass windows. The one in her book, by the tribute to Flevance.

“…I see.”

The little snail chewed its lip, clearly concerned. “Captain, if you want, I can do all the surveillance—”

“It’s fine,” he cut in, tone sharp before smoothing out, “I saw it earlier. In fact, I’m glad it’s so close. Nami-ya and I will check out the gallery. We’re nearby and I’d rather see it with my own eyes to get the lay of the land. Unless anyone else has a better lead, you and the others can head back to the ship.”

“Understood, sir. Anything else you need?” he asked, sounding relieved.

“Just tell Clione I might have a job for him later on, so don’t make any evening plans.”

“Aye-aye, Captain.”

The call ended, and Nami peered up at Law, expecting signs of the same darkness that had crossed his face when they’d visited the fountain earlier. Instead, his face was totally blank, staring down at the tiny snail, expressionless.

Somehow, that was far, far more unnerving.

“Law?” she asked, touching his arm hesitantly.

As if awoken from a trance he shook his head before smirking down at her. “Well, hope you don’t mind one last detour before heading back to the ship? I know it’s more stairs but look on the bright side; at this rate, the definition of your calf muscles will be a thing of beauty.”

He didn’t wait for her to respond, turning on his heels and heading towards the direction of the stairs to the next level. Frowning, she began to doubt whether or not this was all a good idea. She didn’t know exactly what his deal was, but she really felt like he was too close to this. But she had the feeling trying to talk him out of it would be an exercise in futility, and would set her back far more than any lie she might spin.

Oh well, she sighed internally, jogging to catch up, so long as he doesn’t do anything stupid. He’s sensible enough to keep a cool head, no matter what his problem is. It’ll be fine.

While it wasn’t far, it took longer than either of them would have expected to actually find Jubilee & Atlas Antiques. Mainly because it was a surprisingly nondescript building compared to the opulent churches and museums nearby. Honestly, based on the exterior, one could easily have passed it by. Like everything else the building was pristinely white, the windows boasting small arches over them and flower boxes containing white impatiens. Really, the most impressive thing about it was the marble plaque out front boasting the company’s name in gold leaf.

But the two pirates didn’t really care about the appearance; it was what was inside that counted. That, and the information board out front, which stated in bold, black letters that there would be a showing and auction of North Blue artworks at 8pm that evening.

“Why don’t you just Scan the place, grab the vase, and walk away? Seems like that would be easy compared to putting on this charade?” Nami asked, eyeing the building. It was hardly Harpin’s mansion; it would take almost no effort for Law to use his powers to steal every item of value inside it, replacing artifacts, paintings, and money with pebbles and potted plants with a mere flick of his fingers, then teleporting them away to safety.

Really, if he weren’t such an ass, Trafalgar Law would be a thief’s dream partner.

Of course, he was an ass, so he gave her a look that implied he considered her question to be phenomenally stupid. “Because there’s no guarantee that the vase is even in there—for all I know it’s being kept in a secondary location until the actual event for security or health reasons. It is a relic from a city that suffered a notorious death toll both before and after the World Government had quarantined it,” he explained lowly. “On top of that, my Room would draw too much attention, so if it’s not in there, we’ll have blown our whole cover and probably the operation.”

Though disappointed that they couldn’t just whisk it away with his powers, she conceded that he had a point. Versatile and useful as they were, the Ope Ope no Mi’s abilities did have their drawbacks. Actually infiltrating the auction house was a safer move.

Yet for a moment, she saw Law glare at the building, as if he were equally frustrated that they couldn’t just grab their prize and go. Perhaps even a great mastermind like him sometimes wished to take the direct path. “At least we can be sure it’ll be presented at this auction,” he reassured, almost as much to himself as her as his hand rested on Nami’s lower back while he escorted her away. “Makes it easier to come up with a plan and contingencies when I actually know the target. My crew did good.”

She twirled a strand of hair around her finger in thought. She supposed he was right, and the pride in his voice when he mentioned the Hearts’ contribution…well, she knew better than to argue with that. Seemed the lesson he learned on the last island was sticking. “Still too bad we don’t have blueprints like Harpin’s house, though.”

“It can’t be helped. That was a job I’d been planning for months. This is more…spontaneous. Why? Scared and looking to back out?” he asked, glancing down at her with a challenging grin.

Nami scoffed. She was a thief that specialized in robbing pirates. Sure, she was a scaredy-cat, but when treasure of some kind was at stake, there were few risks she wouldn’t take. “Not a chance. Just pointing out that we’re going in more blind than last time.”

“Maybe, but at least our prize will be out in the open and not in the home of a former Marine with tentacles. Hell, we might even get it legally.”

“Law,” she started, brow furrowing. She wasn’t scared, but she did have a reasonable concern, especially with how intent he seemed on this one item. “What are we going to do if we don’t win the vase?”

The pair stopped by the Flevance fountain, Law taking a long moment to stare solemnly at the beautiful white angels. Without a word he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small coin, pressing it to his lips before flipping it into the water.

When he turned back to her, his gold eyes were as hard as the statues’ and twice as cold.

“Simple; we take it from whoever did.”

XXX

Hidden in a small cove on an unpopulated section of Atifakuto’s coast, the sight of the Polar Tang’s sunny yellow hull was a welcome relief after a whole day of the city’s stark white walls. Law seemed to agree as his tense posture relaxed into a comfortable slouch, even giving a few of the guys a small grin when they called out to them. To Nami, of course, the submarine was still far from the Sunny and thus would never be home, but she couldn’t help but smile at Law’s reaction. The Dark Doctor really did have some softness deep down.

Of course, that didn’t last long, as the moment they were within the safety of the cargo bay he was once more all business. “Dinner is in an hour. Rest up, brush up on your notes, do whatever you need to prepare for the auction tonight; I’ve got a few more dominoes to put in place,” Law stated. He’d been silent for most of the walk back, though Nami attributed that to him mentally filing through all the information they now had and formulating his plan. Much as she missed and loved Luffy, having a captain who didn’t just go rushing in like an idiot was a nice change of pace.

That didn’t mean she appreciated his tone, though. “Say please,” she quipped, hip jutting out. She might have decided to be more compliant for the sake of gaining his trust, but that didn’t mean she was going to let him boss her around.

Besides, if she were too accommodating, he’d probably grow suspicious and then she’d be right back at square one.

He scowled but apparently decided it would be a waste of time to argue. They were on a tight schedule, after all, so her attitude would have to be tolerated. For now. “Please,” he grumbled before marching off, beckoning Clione to follow him. The biologist glanced between the two, bewildered, but smartly said nothing before chasing after his captain.

Flashing a self-satisfied grin at Law’s retreating back, Nami practically skipped to her quarters. Even though they weren’t as prepared as she’d like, so far, things were going well. Perhaps they couldn’t just use Law’s powers to swipe the vase, but by obtaining it through legal means, they wouldn’t have the authorities after them, which would be nice. Besides, it wasn’t her money that would be spent at the auction.

Her research of the North Blue had taught her a few things, including just how valuable things from Flevance were. After all, things made from the white ore had been in high-demand during the city’s heyday; now that it was in ruins, any remaining artifacts would surely triple in price. And, admittedly, if that fountain had been anything to go by, the vase could very well be extremely beautiful. Something any art collector or historian might want for themselves.

Once more, she wondered why the hell Law wanted it. He collected coins, not art, so she doubted it would be something he wanted just for the heck of it. What was his obsession with Flevance—

That train of thought was derailed when Nami walked into her room. She blinked then rubbed her eyes, certain her vision was still messed up from the sun, because Ikkaku was still sitting at her desk, working on some little device, practically in the same position as that morning. Really, the only difference was the lack of towel around her head, though her curly hair was a tangled bird’s nest.

“Have you even moved today?” Nami exclaimed loudly, flabbergasted.

The mechanic jumped a few inches out of her chair, a pen cartwheeling through the air before falling back onto the surface of the desk with a clatter. Apparently since she’d had the room to herself, she hadn’t felt the need to put the earplugs back in, leaving her vulnerable to Nami’s loud voice. “Damn, girl, you scared me,” Ikkaku said with a breathy laugh. She glanced around, noticing the time on the clock and the fact that her hair had dried completely. “Guess I was in the zone.”

“You haven’t been working all day, have you?” Nami asked, plopping her shopping bag on her bed. “At least tell me you had lunch.”

“Sounding an awful lot like Law there,” she teased, pushing away from her desk to stretch. There was an audible pop from her back, and her dark eyes closed in relief. “Like me, too. The boys and I are always bugging a certain workaholic captain to eat something and not subsist solely on coffee and aspirin. But to answer your question, yes, I did have lunch.” She pointed at an empty plate that had been shoved into the far corner of the desk, a few grains of rice stuck to the surface. “Bepo brought me some onigiri.”

“Good. If you didn’t, I’d be dragging you into the galley and force-feeding you a sandwich, then charging you a cooking and inconvenience fee.”

Snorting, Ikkaku cracked her knuckles and rolled her shoulders, further releasing the tension sitting hunched over in one spot for hours had built up. “Dinner’s soon enough; even if I hadn’t eaten, I could have waited. And good luck making a sandwich with no bread on board.” Despite her dismissal tone, though, she gave a wry grin. “But thanks for caring, I guess, even if it does come with a price tag.”

“What are friends for?” Nami shrugged with a smile that was a little forced. It was such an alien feeling, this sudden awkwardness. Since first arriving on the Tang, she and Ikkaku had gotten on like a house on fire. It was almost inevitable, being the two women on the ship surrounded by men dealing with that insanity together. Hell, even if that hadn’t been the case, Ikkaku had practically sacrificed herself for her back at the club on Grimm. A companion like that was more than she’d even dared to dream of before she’d met Luffy.

Was it really right for Nami to act like she didn’t know about her brother? Should she just tell her that the guys told her about Ushi? Really, what was the point of keeping it a secret? It wasn’t that Nami thought she’d slip up and spill the beans—lying was her specialty, after all—but Ikkaku wasn’t some mark or stranger. She was her friend.

Hell, even if they were on opposite crews, she’d even dare to call her nakama.

The issue resolved itself, however, when the other woman’s expression turned a little melancholy. Ikkaku sighed as she rested her cheek on her fist, her other hand idly playing with the pen. “Heh. Funny, I used to ask myself that question a lot when I was younger. I didn’t really have friends back on my home island. I lived with my Gramps in a lighthouse, so besides the occasional trip to town, it was a pretty isolated life.”

“What about your brothers?” Nami asked, masking her interest by taking her purchases out of the bag so they wouldn’t wrinkle before the auction. A swell of relief surged through her. If Ikkaku talked about Ushi herself, the whole charade of pretending not to know about him wouldn’t even be necessary! She just had to carefully press for the right crumbs of information, maybe even offer up a couple tidbits about her own life in exchange. No big deal. Tit for tat, right? “Nojiko was my best friend growing up. Hell, probably my only friend until Luffy came along.”

A dark look crossed Ikkaku’s face. “Yeah, well, Nojiko on her worst day was probably a way better sibling than all of them combined.”

“I don’t think you’ve talked about them much. I basically just know that they exist and said you wouldn’t really make it as an engineer because you’re a girl.”

A long sigh escaped her lips. “That’s…the nice version. Didn’t want to unload my shitty childhood on you, especially since yours sounded worse. I mean, my island was never taken over by pirates, and I didn’t work for the guy who murdered my mom.”

Well, that was certainly true, but then again, people with healthy, normal childhoods seldom became pirates. Or at least, those that did rarely lasted long on such cutthroat seas. Nami should have realized there was more to the mechanic’s past than some run-of-the-mill misogyny. “Maybe, but I don’t mind. We’ve all gone through some rough shit, right? We wouldn’t be in this line of work otherwise.”

“True. I just…I guess I just like to pretend he doesn’t exist most of the time.”

“He?” she asked as if she didn’t already know.

Ikkaku’s calloused hand dropped the pen to instead clench into a tight fist, and there was a haunted look in her dark eyes as she stared off into space. “Ushi. He’s the oldest. I can’t remember a time when I wasn’t afraid of him. Spent our childhood making our other brothers use me as a punching bag. When he wasn’t doing that, he gave me almost hourly reminders that I was a burden on the family, that no one really loved me, that I’d never amount to anything.” There was a hitch in her breath and a pause, and Nami noticed her close her eyes tightly for a moment. As if she were fighting back tears. It was a look she’d never expected to see on the tough, vibrant woman’s face. “Then, when I was seven, he tried to kill me.”

“What?!” Nami exclaimed, dropping her blazer to the floor in shock.

“Yeah. Joras had a huge fucking forest, and he led me into it to look for mushrooms or some shit. Can’t remember. Next thing I know, he’s shoved me into a pit, and by the time I’d climbed out, he was long gone and it was night. I think…I think it was supposed to be my grave, ‘cause it was really fucking deep. Or at least it seemed that way. Maybe I’m misremembering.”

Somehow, Nami doubted that. Sure, memories could get warped with age and fear, but some details remained solid for the rest of a person’s life. “But, you got out, right? And I’m sure your parents must have been worried sick!” She could almost picture it. A young Ikkaku, sticks and leaves caught in her messy curls, knees and elbows scraped, face covered in dirt and tears, frightened but once more able to smile when she was finally found, her mother and father scooping her into their arms, scolding her for worrying them but just so relieved she was safe…

At least, that’s what Bellemere or Mister Genzo would have done if Nami had gone missing.

From the bitter laugh that escaped her throat, Ikkaku hadn’t been so fortunate. “I spent three days wandering around those fucking woods, scared and cold and wondering if I was gonna die out there. My parents didn’t even notice I was gone.” After a long moment of silence, her fist unclenched and some of the tension eased out of her shoulders. “Gramps found me, though. When I didn’t come home after two days and a storm rolled in, my brothers Nausagi and Fukuro ran two miles to the lighthouse to tell him what Ushi had done. Maybe they realized he’d gone too far. Or they were scared I’d come back as a vengeful zombie. Either way, Gramps rescued me and demanded custody. Mama and Pops were glad to hand me over. One less mouth to feed, and I wouldn’t be causing their Future Marine Hero any more trouble.”

“That’s…that’s horrible.” And yet Nami could tell she was getting the abridged version of the story. “Tell me your grandfather was a better guardian.”

Despite the childhood trauma she’d just confessed to, Ikkaku merely shrugged, a small grin tugging at the corner of her lips. “Yeah. He was. Gramps was crazy, but he loved me and taught me how to fight. Told me to never lose my smile, ‘cause that’s my best protection against a world that’ll try to break me.”

“Bellemere said something similar to me and Nojiko. ‘Whatever happens, never lose your ability to laugh. If you can survive, happy times, lots of ‘em, will come your way’.”

“Smart lady.” She tried to casually run her fingers through her hair, only to find them caught in the tangled knots. She let out a light chuckle at her predicament and added, “I think she and Gramps would have gotten along pretty well. Well, assuming she liked salty former smugglers who had the gumption to threaten Law with a shot gun. Not that he didn’t deserve it a little.”

Nami had to smile at that, and she could only imagine what he’d said that had nearly gotten him shot. It was definitely something snarky, a shit-eating grin on his face while he provoked a protective grandfather just because he could.

Noticing Ikkaku’s hair situation, she abandoned her suit to instead pick up a wide-toothed comb. “Well, I’m not sure about Bellmere, but I’d certainly love to meet him.”

“Of course you would.” Leaning back in the chair, she allowed Nami to carefully put her thick curls to rights. “How was shopping? Boss show you the blinding sights of the city?”

“It was…enlightening,” she said cautiously. There was still so much to sort out, and every time she thought she had an answer to one of her questions, four more popped up in its place.

Grabbing the pen she’d been playing with earlier, Ikkaku handed it to her over her shoulder. “Here; I made you something, since I doubt you’ll be able to bring your Clima-Tact with you. Kinda why I was so focused—I wanted it to be ready by tonight.”

Curious, Nami inspected the item. It was a plain black ballpoint pen maybe a bit longer than her hand. There was an almost unnoticeable jolly roger engraved into the middle, and she ran her thumb over it idly. “You spent the whole afternoon making me a pen? I could have just as easily brought my stylus.”

“Oh, but a stylus is only good for writing. This is so much more useful. ‘The pen is mightier than the sword’, right? Click the top.”

She did so, and instead of an ink-filled nub, a small syringe, similar to an epi-pen, popped out. Her eyes widened in realization as Ikkaku explained, “Inside’s a powerful tranquilizer. Should knock any fool out in minutes if injected into the bloodstream. Takes longer if it’s ingested. It’s non-lethal to humans, so it should be safe to use on anyone you’re looking to knock out. Assuming they aren’t really Fishmen in disguise.”

“Why? Does it react differently for them?”

She grimaced. “Yeah. Severe allergic reaction. Anaphylactic shock typically. So, unless you want that on your conscience, humans only.”

Tucking the pen away for later, Nami nodded in understanding and went back to combing her hair. “Gotcha. Doubt it’ll be a problem, though. Jean Bart said this place is pretty humans-only.”

“Doesn’t mean it’s impossible for someone to have that kind of bloodline. If it’s diluted through a few generations, a lot of the time you can hide it and pass for human.”

“Hmmm, hadn’t thought of that.”

There was a moment where Nami could tell she was mulling something over. Even faced away from her, Ikkaku wasn’t hard to read, and it was only a matter of time before she voiced whatever question was on her mind.

While she waited, the ginger took the time to appreciate the texture of Ikkaku’s hair, combing out each curl individually so it wouldn’t frizz. The thick, black locks were coarser than her own, yet surprisingly soft despite her hard life at sea. Hair maintenance was extremely difficult living on the ocean, the salt and fluctuating weather of the Grand Line wreaking havoc on Nami’s much finer strands. And while Ikkaku was far more feminine than one would expect upon first meeting her, in the time they’d roomed together, she didn’t seem to put much more extensive care into her shiny locks than some leave-in conditioner.

Guess she’s just got some good genetics, Nami thought appreciatively. Either that or she’s hiding some amazing shampoo formula, and damn if she is I’ll never forgive her!

When Ikkaku at last broke her silence, the hesitation in her voice was palpable. “Hey, it was a Fishman who held you prisoner all those years, right? You ever…blame all Fishmen for what he did?”

It was an unexpected question, but a fair one, Nami supposed. Arlong had committed a crime so heinous she knew she’d never forgive him, and she knew there were plenty of people, especially ones who spent years abused by such a monster, who would project that hatred onto an entire race. But why even ask?

“I…not really. I mean, I can’t say I never lumped them all together in my head, since Arlong and his crew were my only baseline for Fishmen for a long time.” She bit her lip, thinking. “But that was when I was a kid. My view of things was a lot more black-and-white, mostly because I was bitter at my situation. As I got older, and the more I thought about it, the more I realized that it was stupid to think all Fishmen were like him. He was the one who hurt me, so he’s the only one who should get my hate.”

“So, you don’t hate them all?”

She shook her head. “Nah. Hell, I was even able to forgive a member of his crew. I’m sure you heard about how Luffy punched a Celestial Dragon?”

Ikkaku craned her neck up to look at her, dark eyes widening in shocked understanding. “Yeah? You saying the Fishman he defended—”

“One of Arlong’s crew. Hatchi. Like all of them, he hurt me too, but it was on his captain’s orders, and he clearly regretted it.” Well, it had been a bit more complex than that. Hell, when they’d first encountered him again, she’d nearly gone back on her promise to Camie to rescue him. Even if he hadn’t abused her like the others, he’d still been complacent in it. Still destroyed villagers homes, held her hostage, attacked the Navy ships that tried to come to the rescue. He hadn’t been blameless in the least. She would have had every right to demand that he be left to be killed or enslaved. That it was karma come to bite him in the ass.

Yet what had swayed her, apart from Camie’s determination to save him, was her own friends’ reactions to seeing him again. Those who knew her past had immediately been ready to turn the ship around and leave Hatchi to his fate. Of course she’d expected Sanji to be her knight in shining armor and want nothing to do with someone who had abused a lady, even by proxy. Zoro and Usopp had been a bit more surprising, though perhaps it shouldn’t have been. They knew what she’d been put through. Had fought and bled for her. Despite their sometimes heated disagreements, Nami knew she could count on them to always have her back.

The one who shocked her the most was Luffy. He might have flip-flopped between reason and his stomach, but the fact was, her loving, forgiving captain had actually held a grudge on her behalf. Hatchi and Arlong hadn’t done anything to him personally, but his nakama had suffered, and that wasn’t something he’d easily set aside. That genuine show of solidarity and loyalty to her had melted what ice had still been around her heart, which allowed her to truly forgive the octopus Fishman.

Yes, Hatchi had hurt her, but her hatred was solely reserved for Arlong, not his underlings who genuinely felt remorse.

“I’m not a saint or anything but hating Hatchi…it seemed pointless. He wasn’t the one who killed my mother. And blaming all Fishmen for the actions of one seemed pretty shitty. Doesn’t mean I wouldn’t kill Arlong if I had the chance, though.”

Nami could practically feel the tension drain from Ikkaku’s shoulders, and she couldn’t hide her smile before she looked away. “That’s good to know. That asshole deserves it, from what you’ve told me. He and my brother should meet, then get sacrificed to some kind of horrible sea monster. Plenty of hungry Sea Kings out there to feed.”

“Couldn’t happen to a nicer pair of guys,” Nami giggled as she ran the comb through the last strand of hair. “Though, that might be cruel to the Sea King. Poor thing deserves a better meal than shit like them.”

“True. We’ll just have to think of something else then. We can ask Law; he’s always got great suggestions.”

A shudder ran down her spine, though she had to admit, it wasn’t as horrified as she’d like. She justified it with the fact that Arlong was scum who deserved whatever painful death the likes of Law might propose. So did Ushi, from the sounds of things. Though, Law had said Ikkaku had begged him not to kill her brother. Why? Did she still care about Ushi due to their familial ties? Or was there something else?

Maybe she just doesn’t want her brother’s death on her conscience, Nami thought, putting the comb away and proceeding to raid the closet for shoes. I just hope that doesn’t come back to bite her someday.

XXX

Dinner on the Tang was certainly livelier and noisier than breakfast. Mainly because the crew didn’t have to walk on eggshells while waiting for Law to get his caffeine hit. Most of the time about a dozen different conversations could be heard, utensils clattered against plates, insults were tossed about, and laughter filled the air. But at the moment, the whole galley was silent save for Nami, who was telling the Heart Pirates—save for a few who’d been sent out on last-minute errands—all about her crew’s wild adventure on Skypiea.

“…so, after Luffy beat the crap out of him, Enel flew off to the moon in his gold airship, and we escaped the island with the help of an octopus balloon, our ship loaded with treasure!”

There was a pregnant pause as the Hearts stared at her in a mix of awe and disbelief. She’d had their undivided attention ever since Law announced that the Straw Hats had found Noland’s lost city of gold, all but demanding she tell the tale and not skimp on the details.

Naturally, those details made the story even more bizarre, practically unbelievable, but she gave them what they asked for, so they couldn’t complain. Even Law’s jaw had dropped once or twice in incredulity. Mostly at the part where Luffy’d been eaten by a giant snake and thus been hidden from Enel’s senses.

Finally, a few of the crew managed to find their voices.

“An orangutan nearly wrecked your ship with singing?” Shachi asked, face utterly baffled.

Penguin grabbed his hat and smacked him over the head with it. “That’s what you’re stuck on? That’s from way back in the beginning of the story!”

The ginger punched him in the shoulder in retaliation, which quickly devolved into a childish slap fight. “Well it’s weird, ok?”

“Weirder than Straw Hat punching Kami or the knock-up stream business or the ship that flew to the moon?”

“Yeah! You ever met an orangutan that could sing?!”

“No, but that’s not the point!”

“You met Monte Blac Cricket?” Ermine interrupted, eyes so wide the whites could be seen even under the rim of their hat, though their mouth quickly split into a smile. “Holy shit, I’d wondered what had happened to him!”

“Wasn’t he your friend or something?” Seiuchi asked through a mouth full of rice.

They shook their head, looking a little wistful, a faint blush rising to their cheeks. “Just a neighbor. The people of Lvneel were dicks to his family and anyone who associated with them didn’t get treated much better. But I always thought there had to be some truth to Noland’s story.”

“Because a city of gold is so fantastical it’s gotta be real?” Nami asked, amused. She’d half-expected everyone to laugh at her like the people on Jaya when she’d asked about Sky Island—she’d even glossed over that part, finding no reason to recap such a blow to her pride. Yet instead, they’d been respectful, even entranced by her tale. It seemed to help that she’d been able to fill in a few blanks with what she remembered from Noland’s ledger, thus adding credibility to the man himself instead of just imagining the lying fool the king’s slander had reduced him to.

Usopp would probably love these guys, she thought fondly. Not that they’d likely believe his fantastical lies, but they’d probably at least let him spin his yarns to his heart’s content.

“Because you don’t tell a king about a city of gold unless you’ve got something to show for it,” Uni interjected wisely, ladling some more curry onto her plate. He paused to smile at her with his eyes, the bottom half of his face still distinctly covered by his bandana despite it being dinnertime. This close, Nami couldn’t help but try to subtly look for signs of scarring, and in fact could spot a line of slightly-paler skin peeking out just over the edge. “That, and history’s rarely all that accurate. Full of lies and twisted to suit a certain narrative.”

“That’s the World Government way. I’m sure we’ll see plenty of it tonight,” Law stated, leaning back in his chair as he munched on some onigiri. The bulge in his cheek might have been comical, but the glint in his eye was humorless. “Can’t wait to hear the dumbass assumptions people make about us Northerners.”

Murmurs of agreement echoed throughout the room, though an angry tic formed on Nami’s forehead.

“Are you saying the stuff you had me study is going to be a load of crap?” she demanded, pointing her finger accusingly. Of course she knew history was skewed at best, but she’d spent days cramming! Had weird sexual dreams about him because of it!

Yes she was blaming the book for that and no one could stop her.

He shrugged and took another bite of rice, unbothered by her irritation. “It’s the information you’ll need to be able to regurgitate if anyone asks you about the North.”

“Yeah,” Penguin chimed in, nodding sagely. He and Shachi had finally been pulled apart by Jean Bart and had resumed eating like nothing had happened. “These people aren’t interested in the truth. They just want to feel superior to the ‘uneducated masses’.”

“Buncha pretentious pricks,” Shachi sniggered, balancing a spoon on his upper lip. “Bet they’d have a fucking fit if they found out El Dorodo’s not only real, but in the fucking sky!”

“I mean, can’t say I’d blame them,” Jude grumbled, playing a bit with his food like a grumpy child. “I figured we’d be the ones to find it, but this whole time we’ve been sailing around in a submarine for nothing!”

“You got something to say about my ship?” Ikkaku snapped, glaring at her crewmate. Behind her, Crozier, Cousteau, and Ermine made slashing motions across their throats, silently reminding him that disparaging the Polar Tang in any way in front of its chief engineer was a sure death sentence.

Before he could say anything, Uni thwapped him on the forehead with the spoon, apparently taking just as much offense. “How can you say it’s been for nothing—we’ve found tons of cool shit down here! May not have been El Dorado, but there have been some amazing sunken cities. And fish! We’ve discovered more aquatic animals than any other ocean explorer,” he pointed out excitedly, Cousteau nodding in agreement. “I mean, we’ve seen deep-sea fish not recorded in any book! Extracted hallucinogenic venom from puffer fish! Taken samples of bioluminescent plankton! We’ve seen octopi punch fish!”

“You ever figure out why they do that?” Shachi asked, cocking his head.

“Best I can figure? Spite.”

As weird as this little tangent was, Nami found herself giggling a bit at how excited Uni was. She didn’t know him too well, given how he was one of the quieter, more reserved members of the crew, but it was endearing to see him so animated and giddy as he discussed marine life.

“Plus, it’s cool to study navigational currents and everything, and underwater topography. The maps I can make from that kind of intel are really good,” Bepo added, twiddling his claws a bit beside her.

“Right! And if that’s still not enough to convince you, who needs a city of gold when you can get your hands on more sunken treasure than most pirates see in their lifetimes?” Uni asked, puffing out his chest.

She couldn’t help it—Nami’s eyes lit up with belli signs at the thought of how many sunken ships the submarine probably came across, all that gold theirs for the taking. Most treasure was basically lost once it hit the bottom of the ocean, but the Hearts’ ship and diving equipment turned the ocean floor into their personal piggy bank.

It seemed Jude had the same thought. “You’re right, you’re right,” he conceded, rubbing the back of his neck. “Sorry, it’s a great ship, and we’ve definitely found more than a city’s worth of loot—and yes the fish are cool Uni put the spoon away—but it’s still annoying to find out that we’ve been searching the wrong place this whole time.”

“Eh, happens to every pirate crew,” Jean Bart said, sipping his drink. “You find a treasure map only to discover the gold’s already dug up. Same with legends of lost cities. The fact that the Straw Hats actually found El Dorado and came away with a profit just means they’ve got the Devil’s luck on their side.”

“Or the favor of some god. Probably not that Enel guy, though,” Shachi said with a smirk. “And hopefully nothing from Joras, either.”

There was a murmur of agreement among the crew at that, though Ikkaku looked more uncomfortable than amused. Nami wasn’t the only one to catch that, though, as Uni reproachfully smacked the side of his head with the spoon.

“Dude. Don’t joke about the eldritch horror gods, yeah?”

“Sorry,” the ginger said, blushing slightly as he wiped away the curry splattered across his face.

“Eldritch horror gods?” Nami asked, recoiling at the thought. What the fuck?! Joras sounded vaguely familiar and given the context she guessed it had to be someplace in the North Blue, but she sure as hell didn’t recall reading anything about that! Was this something related to Northern culture, or were the guys just fucking with her?

“Nothing to worry your pretty little head over, Nami-ya,” Law stated with a smirk, though she didn’t miss the glare he sent Shachi’s way. “We’ve been sailing under the ocean for over five years and I’ve yet to see a sleeping god who can turn you mad with terror.”

“No, just an underwater ruin or two that talks about him,” Ikkaku muttered, picking at her food.

Underwater ruins with tales of sleeping gods? Sounds like something Robin would be interested in, Nami thought, nervous sweat running down her neck. Not that she’d be able to blame her. Sure, the archeologist was macabre as hell, but Nami could appreciate her thirst for knowledge, creepy or not. Who knew what history and cultures had been lost to the seas? Maybe there were even Poneglyphs down at the bottom of the ocean!

Damn. Robin and Law would probably get along great. She wasn’t sure if she was frightened or comforted by this thought.

Uni seemed to notice her unease and patted her shoulder. “We’ve seen some strange stuff down there, but nothing more dangerous than Sea Kings. Which, I mean, aren’t exactly friendly guppies, but they’ll leave us be. The Tang’s Seastone coating and electrical defenses ensure that.”

Though she still found the whole concept horrifying, she was appreciated how hard Uni was trying to keep the peace and not make things needlessly frightening for her. The whole crew had a morbid sense of humor, but while she’d mostly adapted, she still found this whole conversation creepy. It made her feel a little guilty for wanting to pry into his business. Yeah, it was annoying to know the crew was hiding stuff from her, but Uni deserved a little privacy, right?

“Yeah, and if there were anything more, Uni’s fish buddies would warn us ahead of time!” Malamute added.

“Fish buddies?” Nami asked, eyebrows lifting to her hairline in surprise. So much for respecting his privacy. “Wait, can you talk to fish?”

The man in question stiffened beside her. “I, uh, I can understand fish a little,” he said, looking nervous. His large hands twisted the napkin in his lap, and he refused to look at her. “It’s a Haki thing.”

“Haki can do that?” she asked, surprised.

“Observation Haki can do a lot of things, and Uni’s the best at it on the ship,” Law cut in harshly, glare brokering no argument. “It’s a skill that’s saved our asses plenty of times.”

Nami blanched at his defensive tone. “Hey, I’ll take your word for it, but you don’t have to act like I insulted his mother or something.”

“It’s ok, Law,” Uni said, shrugging a bit, though his face seemed to sink a little further into his bandana. “I know she didn’t mean anything by it. It’s a fair question, and it is a weird talent.”

“It’s not weird. It’s fucking useful as hell and I won’t hear anyone belittling my crew.”

“I’d never belittle him—” Nami snapped, starting to stand up to give Law a piece of her mind before Bepo’s heavy paws fell on her shoulders, gently but firmly keeping her seated.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized softly. “Law doesn’t mean you. It’s just…the last person outside the crew that found out, he was extremely cruel about it. Beat Uni to a pulp and even threatened to sell him as a freak show attraction before Captain found them.”

“Oh my god,” she replied, anger cooling quickly as she covered her mouth in horror, imagining Uni bruised and bloody on the ground at the hands of some bastard. Well, that would sure as hell explain why Law had taken such offense. If such a thing had happened to Chopper because he could speak to animals, she’d likely be just as pissed. From the scowls on the rest of the Hearts’ faces, the whole crew felt similar. Her gaze flicked to the fuming captain. “I’m guessing he ended up on your operating table?”

“I wish,” he growled, gold eyes glinting in fury as he crossed his arms. “Marines showed up before I could cut out his heart. Must have been his lucky day, but luck won’t be enough to save him if I ever run into Hyena-ya again.”

“Hyena?” she asked, the name not ringing any bells.

“Bellamy the Hyena,” Bepo explained, snout wrinkling in distaste. “He’s also from the North.”

Oh. My. God, Nami thought, wondering if the world was really so small. “You said Bellamy, right? Blonde hair? Spring powers? Asshole with a stupid grin?”

Law cocked an eyebrow in mild surprise. “Seems you’ve encountered him before.”

She ground her teeth as she remembered the way he’d mocked Luffy’s dreams in the bar. “Yeah. On Jaya. His crew laughed at me for asking about Sky Island and his first mate tried to buy me. Later he stole Cricket’s gold, so Luffy went after him. I didn’t see the fight but given what an ass that guy was…yeah, Luffy wiped that stupid smile off his face.”

Once more the room fell silent, but quickly broke out into thunderous applause.

“Hah! I would have paid good money to see that!” Ikkaku laughed, spirits lifted.

“If he hurt Cricket, I’m glad he got the beating he deserved,” Ermine said with a grin.

Uni smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling happily. “When you see Straw Hat again, shake his hand for me! That guy’s a dick.”

Even Law was put in a better mood, though there was still a malicious edge to his smirk. “Good on Mugiwara-ya. Still wouldn’t mind doing some permanent damage to the fucker myself, though. Bad enough he insulted my crew, but that bastard should pick his idols more carefully.”

Nami’s brow furrowed at that. His idols? The hell did that mean?

She didn’t have time to vocalizing that question, though. Sweat ran down her neck when said smirk then took a more lecherous edge as he rested his chin on his fist, eyes glinting with mischief. “But Sarquiss-ya tried to buy you? I might have prioritize kicking his ass, then. I’m the only one who gets to be your sugar daddy.”

“Oh shut up! You didn’t even buy me new shoes!”

“You got her a suit but no shoes? For shame, Boss,” Ikkaku giggled, getting up to help Seiuchi and Jude clear the tables. “I thought you were supposed to be a ladies’ man.”

“I’m a cruel bastard who doesn’t do something for nothing. She can borrow yours.”

Sauntering over, she playfully poked him in the forehead. “Says who?”

Law snorted and childishly poked her right back. “Me. Your captain. The guy who pays your salary.”

“You pay me to keep the submarine running and sass you when you’re being an idiot.”

“I don’t pay you for that.”

“Mmmm, you’re right; that’s a service I provide for free.”

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say those two were siblings,” Nami chuckled under her breath.

“Right? When I was first recruited I was convinced they were secretly related,” Uni agreed.

Bepo gave them both a smile and said quietly, “I think it’s good for them. Especially Law. I think he secretly likes having a little sister again.”

Brown eyes widened at that little tidbit. Law had a sister? What happened to her? Bepo had stated the past tense, so there was either some kind of falling out or…

…oh no, she thought, turning to watch Law continue to bicker good-naturedly with Ikkaku, his expression annoyed but the glimmer in his eyes belying that he was enjoying himself. Another piece of the puzzle that was the Surgeon of Death had fallen into her lap, but it wasn’t a particularly happy one. Sure, people died or were killed all the time, but Nami couldn’t imagine what she’d be like if she’d lost Nojiko. And depending on how young they’d been or how she’d died, that could really fuck with a guy.

“Nami-ya.”

Her attention was yanked from her musing as Law called her name. He was on his feet, plate clean and smirk dangerous as he regarded her. Nami wondered whether this would be the last time she’d see him in a genuinely good mood for the rest of the evening. “It’s seven o’clock. Time to get ready to watch history be defiled by pretentious morons. And for your obnoxious thunder god’s sake, make sure you’re wearing shoes you can actually run in.”

( @ninhaoma-ya, @awesomi, @vannahfanfics)

[blueprint-han]

a musical encounter.

pairing: music major senior!han x music major junior!reader

genre: university (?? idk) au; fluff.

⇥ warnings: very terribly™ written by a person who has a -8.9 knowledge in music, also the singing parts are not very well described and this may seem incomplete because i’m trying to force teach myself to write short, but oh well 🤧 I wanna write a longer fic based on this in the future hhhhhhhh. me after writing this fic: wow i really clowned myself at “short fic” didn’t I 🤡 also not proofread so be mindful of errors and google autocorrect <//3

word count: 1.7 K 🤡

⇥ disclaimer: this writing does not aim to represent the activities of the real Han Jisung, nor does it represent JYPE in any form. Events are pure fiction. ♡

type: blurb drabble 😭 (why can I never write sh0rt hmph >:( )

network tag: @stayverse @districtninewriters @inkidz + @sunoo-luvs

part of: the url drabble game; requested by @missinghan :’’) (requests for this are closed now!)

!!; song y/n is imagined to sing here is ‘Freedom 90, the Pitch Perfect Version (of course, with pre added acappella). You may find the song here, if you wanna listen to it. hhhhhh this is based on my rusty research about music equipment (which may be wrong) so if this is not what it’s supposed to mean please go easy on me. 😂

↯ note: hhhhh okay so this one has no direct mention or relation to your url but I rather picked it up from your url ~vibes~ (since the only idea that was dropping into my head was making han go missing ufhurg) so I hope you don’t mind ! Hope you like it uwu 💓 Happy reading. <3 Again this will not compare to your writing queen, but I tried. 😔 ⇥ dawn.☀️

“Gosh, this is a music recording, not a date — what’s there to be scared about?” Your friend chided, setting up the mic and the filter as you panicked behind the glass. “You’re a music major! Isn’t this supposed to be what you do?”

“You’re saying that like you aren’t one, and you totally didn’t freak out two days ago, Sana.”

Sana huffed, shaking her head before moving to connect all the wires in place. “Yeah. but…” Her voice came out low when she crouched down to fix all the wires. “The nerves shake off eventually. You’ve nothing to worry. Did you hydrate?”

“I’ve been sipping on this water bottle for the past half an hour!” You sighed, walking inside the booth to stand next to your friend. “And what do you mean ‘shake off’ — you mean that time you ‘accidentally’ broke the headphones when you wear putting them on?” A bite of your lip to stifle your laugh, and Sana’s mouth dropped open in disbelief.

“Wow, you’re gonna-” She slapped your arm after getting up. “-bring that up even though we had an agreement that we’re gonna keep it a secret?”

“Okay, ouch that hurts!” You chortled. “There’s no one here though, I still kept my promise.”

“Yeah right, in a rented schoolroom studio, with cameras everywhere.”

“They still wouldn’t be able to hear me, right?” You pointed out, bursting into a fit of giggles, nervousness be damned when Sana pouted in defeat.

“Fine, now help me set this up. Come onnnnn…” Your friend shook your arm violently to kick you out of your laughter. You shook your head, crouching over again to fix the wires while your friend set up all the equipment outside the booth.

“All set?”

“Yeah…” You took a deep breath fixing your dress up a bit before reaching your hand out, fitting the headphones snug over your ears. Your eyes caught on something black lying on the tables, and you pointed it out.

“Whose headphones are those?” You pointed out, and Sana looked to the direction. “Eh,” she brushed it off. “Probably the person who’d received this room to record before, they’ll take care of it.” You tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear, nodding. “Now come on, let’s start. We have to submit this tomorrow and I have a movie date, so it can’t get later than this.”

“Alright,” You chimed, clearing your throat once, twice before inhaling deeply. You were surely nervous before, but somehow singing always helped you disconnect from your surroundings, it was your escape — one of the main reason you’d chosen music technology in a heartbeat when you found out it was an option for your major.

“Ready? And, go.”

Sana hit a button, causing soft music to play through the headphones, a melody she’d carefully crafted over nights of 3 am coffee and many, many texts to you — most of them saying “I wanna sleeeepppppp waaaaa”. You’d obviously heard it before but you realised why it took her so long (nearly a week), because it was near perfection.

“Heaven knows I was just a young boy~”

The song went pretty smoothly on the most part, with Sana stopping you in between verses and and going over parts she wanted you to repeat, which you gladly complied. She was the senior, of course.

When it cam down to the last verse, about half an hour had passed — and you felt pretty good about it. your vocals were shining pretty well and blended with the music perfectly, which put you at ease.

“Okay, let’s finish this.” Sana said, focused on changing up the settings, before giving you a countdown, hitting play. You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath as you waited for the beat drop to end, leading to your high note. That again. went pretty well, along with the rest of the song, finishing it up with an exhale.

When you removed the headphones and got out of the booth — you met the eyes of someone you did not expect to see standing there.

“O-Oh, hello Han-ssi.” You bowed down in gratitude, overly surprised of his presence.

Han was, just like Sana, your senior. He was one of the best students in your academy — of course, scoring the highest grade in all of his tests. Many would say otherwise because of his tsundere nature, but you could tell that he had a burning passion for music under those eyes. You’d listened to his tracks in various events your university hosted — and safe to say you were in love with his music. He had a way of making his tracks sound so… real? And natural — the kind that you wouldn’t get bored of no matter how many times you heard it.

Han bowed back and mumbled a silent “hello~” back to you before extending hia hand past you to grab the headphones placed on the table. Ohhh, so that’s why they were familiar. You’d noticed them hanging around his neck multiple times on campus.

Once he’d chatted with Sana and you for a bit (more Sana than you) and bowed before he left, you grabbed Sana’s arm before pulling her towards yourself.

“How long was he here for?” You whispered, a pout on your face.

“Umm, I think throughout the last verse?” Sana shrugged.

“What?” Your shoulders slumped. “Didn’t he come to pick up his headphones?”

“Are you seriously getting flustered right now?” Your friend narrowed her eyes playfully, making a teasing noise as she pushed at your shoulder.

“Ah,” You rolled your eyes. “Stop being so teasing, I’m just a little shy of anyone else hearing my singing.” You flapped your hand to brush her statement away — before she could say something or point it out how evidently flustered you’d grown of the fact that your role model — the Han Jisung — had listened to your music.

“Well, you’re a music major, kid. Get used to it.”

And with that, Sana bid her goodbye to you, helping you wrap up the place before hopping down the stairs, earphones plugged into her ears as she hummed a tune all the way.

You silently stood in front of the elevator, playing with the hem of your sleeves as you waited for it to arrive. Curse at your studios for being on the last floor of the building, waiting for the elevator seemed like an eternity.

You also didn’t notice the random person that stood beside you. it was getting late anyways, the sun was almost close to setting by the time you were done, so it was only obvious that the remaining students would go home.

“So, you sing?” A very familiar sounding voice echoed in your ears, and you flipped your head to the side, once again meeting the eyes of someone you didn’t expect to meet right now.

And of course, if was Han Jisung.

Now that you weren’t freaking out (but you were close to), you could focus on him a little more properly, and you immediately noticed the headphones hanging around his neck, again. He had a large black hoodie on, his hands were shoved into his pockets and his hair was neatly combed and parted. If you had to describe him in three words, it’d be “messy but clean”.

“Oh, h-hello again.” You bowed.

“Hi!” He reciprocated your actions, looking at you. “My question?”

“W-what?” Your eyes widened as you fiddled with the edge of your shirt.

“You sing?”

“I-” You started. “I do, I’ve loved singing since I was six.”

“Oh.” Jisung nodded, letting his words trail of for a second. “You sing really well. I listened to that last part of the song — really well done.”

Tensing up, a smile tugged at your lips. “R-really?”

“Yeah,” Jisung chuckled. “You have a pretty voice, Y/N. And that’s a genuine compliment.”

“O-oh.” You felt yourself grow bashful of his presence all of a sudden, your cheeks feeling hot as the heat spread to your cheeks. “Thank you.” You mumbled, diverting your gaze from your eyes as you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “That’s so sweet of you to say.”

“I mean it.” The boy said, frowning. at the sight in front of him — your eyes drifting from place to place and the way you shifted from one foot to other — you seemed to be uncomfortable, but in reality you just didn’t know how to respond. “You okay?”

“A-ah, I am, it’s just.” Moving your hands around, you tried to put your thoughts into words, only to fail miserably, before you sighed and collected yourself. “I just really like your music a lot, and I…” You trailed off, rubbing at your shoulder. “Kinda look up to you, so hearing you say that, it just means a lot to me. Thank you”

The boy standing beside you beamed like sunshine at your response, gently poking at your shoulder as he eyes you mischievously.

“You look up to me, huh?” He giggled when you stumbled over your words, bringing a hand to rake through his hair. “You’re adorable, I’ll tell you that too.”

“Oh my god stop, do you want me to combust?” You laughed, the nervousness laced throughout your statement.

“Okay fine,” Jisung nodded, attaching his headphones to the audio jack of his phone, rummaging through his playlist. “You wanna come to my studio once?”

“What?” Your head snapped in his direction, eyes widening as you took in what he said, excitement filling your veins? Han Jisung’s studio? Seeing him make music in front of your eyes? Is this a fucking dream?

“I mean, only if you want to, of course. I was just asking because you seemed like you’d like to see my music making process. You don’t have to say yes though.”

“Oh gosh, no, I’d love to!” You yelped, stopping him in his tracks. He smiled gently, nodding at you as he scratched his chin in thought.

“So, tomorrow morning is fine?” He looked at you with almost, almost pleading eyes, and you felt like your heart melted into a puddle on the spot. He was cute.

You smiled, shyly nodding as you quickly went through your schedule in your head. “I can work with that.”

“See you tomorrow morning then.” The elevator chimed, the doors sliding open as the both of you got in, giggling at each other.

You couldn’t wait for tomorrow morning, that was for sure.

*silently puts on clown hat and leaves*

↯ note: 🕯️ ignore me this is just a small prayer that tumblr doesn’t make me battle the tags yet again 🕯️ may the tumblr gods be in my favor atleast this once ;-; 🕯️ ⇥ dawn.☀️

[litwitlady]

to make the desert bloom

The first time Michael pawns off a few feet of stolen copper wire he makes $68. He’s been totally swindled - the wire easily worth more than double that. But it’s enough to pay the remainder on his cell phone bill so he’s thrilled with the transaction.

A few months later Michael risks stealing a small spool of wire. He’s wised up about the wire’s worth, but still accepts a criminally low cash offer. But alongside the cash, he’s also negotiated a broken power drill. He has it fixed within the hour and that’s how his tool collection starts. 

Word gets around about the kid who practically gives away copper for nothing more than a few crumpled bills and some rusty old tools. Michael happily accepts broken wrenches, bent screwdrivers, and even a table saw with the cord cut off. He makes enough money to put gas in his truck and keep food on his table. And collects enough tools to supplement his income with various side-gigs.

By his twenty-first birthday, he’s even got $400 saved in his new bank account. His crime completely victimless, as far as he’s concerned. Old Man Sanders never once showing any interest in the piles of copper in the makeshift garage shed. What Sanders doesn’t miss can’t hurt him. And what Sanders doesn’t miss has saved Michael’s life on more than one occasion.

No one but his customers are aware of his scheme. A conman playing easily into the hands of lesser grifters. Until the day he overspends on one of Isobel’s birthday gifts.

She opens the newspaper wrapped box and immediately shoves the gift back into Michael’s chest. ‘You’re stealing now?’

He frowns down at the handwoven scarf. Realizes his mistake. And sighs. Because yes, he’s stealing now.

‘It’s not a big deal, Iz. Just some copper wire no one’s going to miss.’ He tries to give the scarf back to her, but she folds her arms across her chest and levels him with her deadliest glare.

‘Return the scarf, Michael. Give the money back to whoever you stole the wire from.’ Her face softens and she reaches out for his knee. ‘If you need money, I have more than I know what to do with. And we’re family.’

He kisses her cheek, shrugging off her offer. ‘I’ll be okay.’ 

She settles against him, interlocking their elbows and leaning her head on his shoulder. ‘You know I love you, right?’

‘I know. Me too.’ And it’s the truth. But he’ll never take her money.

That’s the last time he steals anything from Sanders for a long time. Until Alex Manes comes barrelling back into his life after his longest absence yet. 

They crash back together like always. Shacking up in his trailer for hours at a time, rediscovering each other’s bodies. And Michael allows himself to believe that they will finally make it happen this time. But then Isobel arrives with a bag of bagels and wakes him from his dream.

Once he’s able to shoo her away, he watches Alex practically fall out of the airstream in his haste to get away. Michael holds up the bag of bagels, but Alex shrugs him off and climbs into his Explorer. The engine whines - needing a new timing belt - as he flees from the junkyard.

Michael eats all six bagels and then steals the largest spool of copper he can find. It’s almost like he wants Alex to catch him. You’re wasting your life, Guerin on a constant loop inside his head.

And maybe he is. Wasting his life. On a boy he’ll never be good enough for.

That night at the drive-in he plays out the final act of their charade. Stupid alien movie and grease-soaked food, hands brushing accidentally as they both grab for a new beer with the anticipation of sex heavy between them.

A dance with Jesse Manes. 

A trade with Renly Thomas.

He makes the most he’s ever made that night. Almost twice what the copper is worth. But he ends the evening in red regardless.

Eventually, he confesses the whole scheme to Sanders. Promising to pay him back. Sanders turns down the offer, but Michael starts saving the money anyway. It’s what he imagines his mother would expect of him. 

He starts taking classes at Roswell Tech. He stops drinking. 

One night, a recently single Alex sits on the stool next to him at the Pony. Leans his elbow on the bartop and turns to Michael. ‘I need a favor.’

Michael drops his hat onto the bartop and snorts. Raises his glass of water to his lips but doesn’t drink. ‘A favor?’

Alex scratches at a divot in the chipped wood bar. Avoiding Michael’s gaze. ‘I need a few feet of copper wire.’

He’s convinced he’s heard him wrong. ‘What?’

‘Three feet. Three feet of copper wire. Heard you were the guy to talk to.’ His lips quirk up at the corner. And Michael suspects he’s being played.

‘Fuck off, Alex.’ There’s no bite in his words, just a sad sort of ruefulness. He slides off his seat and drops his hat back on his head. ‘You can afford to buy your own copper.’

He stalks out of the bar, too sober to stay and argue with an ex who will always be more than an ex. 

The sky is dark and near moonless. Broken glass splinters beneath his boots. A couple arguing loudly distracts him as he walks out to his truck parked near the highway. Unaware that he’s being followed.

When he finally looks up, he stops dead in his tracks. A large dark object sits in the bed of his truck. And it definitely wasn’t there when he’d last climbed out of the Chevy. 

He squints, trying to make out what the object could be without getting any closer. But it’s no use. A voice from behind startles him.

‘Won’t work without the wire.’ 

Alex.

Michael sighs and turns to him. ‘What won’t work?’

‘The sign I made.’ He motions to the back of Michael’s truck. ‘Electrical connections aren’t complete yet. Guess you’ll have to take it home and fix that.’ He hands Michael a brand new reel of copper wire. ‘Let me know how it goes.’

Michael gives him the dirtiest side-eye. But Alex only laughs and turns away. Michael ignores whatever the sign is and slides behind the steering wheel. Riding back to the junkyard in silence.

He sits inside his trailer for a long time. Doing his best to ignore what’s still in his truck. It only works for an hour before he’s back outside and threading the wire through the back of the oak sign. Completing all the electrical connections and yawning through several dramatic sighs.

Once the wiring is finished, he plugs the cord into his power pack and watches as a soft neon glow lights up the night. He stays behind the sign. Protecting himself from whatever it says.

At some point, Isobel arrives. Walks slowly towards him, purples and blues lighting up her face - brow deeply furrowed. ‘Um, Michael? Is there something you want to tell me?’ She motions to the sign and his fear increases tenfold.

He shakes his head, hops up onto the worktable behind him, and carelessly swings his legs back and forth. Trying for nonchalance. ‘Nope. Just fixing Alex’s sign.’

Her mouth falls agape and her eyes go wide. ‘Alex made this?’

Michael nods. 

‘How the fuck are you this calm?’ She’s frantically waving her arms in a decidedly un-Isobel like fashion.

‘Don’t care what it says.’ He’s nervous though. Slips off the table and grabs the leftover copper. It’s probably more than what he stole in the first place. Tosses it onto Sanders’ stack. Suddenly very suspicious about Alex’s intentions.

‘Michael. Come here, right now.’ Her arms are crossed. Death glare back in place. But then she dissolves into high-pitched giggles and he’s never felt a fear so great in all his life.

He bites the bullet and goes to stand beside her. The first thing he notices is how pretty the lights are - pastel neons with a haunting glow. Very reminiscent of the alien tech on his console. 

The words take a minute to form in his mind. He struggles with them. Blinks rapidly several times. Shakes his head and tries again. But each time he lands on the same phrase.

MARRY ME.

‘It’s a joke right? Gotta be.’ Michael swallows hard and stares at the words until they grow fuzzy, losing all meaning. ‘We’re not even dating, Iz.’

Isobel wraps her arm around him and hugs him close. ‘I think you’ve been dating since you were seventeen. Maybe not in the conventional sense - but dating all the same.’ She sighs at the romance of it all. ‘And now he wants more than that.’ She pinches his ribs. 

‘Ow! What was that for?’

‘I can already hear you trying to find some reason to reject him. I will not let you ruin this for me, Michael. Do you understand me? I have a wedding to plan.’ She pulls out her phone and starts flipping through her calendar. ‘Spring or fall?’

Michael rolls his eyes and turns at the sound of tires on gravel. Isobel squeals when she recognizes Alex’s Explorer. Michael’s heart starts to race.

Alex climbs out slowly. Eyeing the sign over Michael’s shoulder. ‘I couldn’t sleep.’ As if that’s all the explanation required. ‘Phone was too quiet.’

Isobel flies into Alex’s arms, nearly knocking him over. But his eyes never leave Michael’s.

‘Give him some space, Isobel.’ She pulls away and looks back and forth between the two of them. Smiling so wide it’s contagious. ‘I’ll call you in the morning.’ She kisses both of them on the cheek and leaves them to their fate.

She stays up all night preparing mood boards.

Back at the junkyard, Alex shoves his hands into his pockets. Feeling naked under Michael’s intense gaze. He waits anxiously for Michael to say something - to say anything.

‘I guess I just don’t understand. Where did this suddenly come from?’ Michael leans against an old junker, watching Alex fidget.

‘Honestly?’ He looks up at the stars and then back down to Michael. ‘I’ve been sort of miserable lately. And one day I looked at my reflection in the mirror and asked myself why.’ He shrugs his shoulders and laughs softly. ‘Got dressed and went to the hardware store.’ 

Michael studies the perfectly formed tube lights. ‘Quite the talent you got there. And completely new to me.’

Alex grins, his anxiety easing a bit. ‘I had help.’

‘And this isn’t a joke?’ 

‘Not a joke. Not remotely a joke.’ He takes several steps towards Michael. Stopping an arm’s length away. ‘I don’t mean tomorrow. Or next month. Hell, maybe not even next year. But one day. When we’re both ready. That’s what I want.’

Michael nods and pushes off the junker. Now only half an arm’s length away. He looks back at the sign. ‘I’m ready whenever you are.’ Drags his eyes slowly back to Alex.

They smile at each other, still able to blush after all these years. And regardless of who moves first, they both land in one another’s arms. Haloed by the sign’s luminescent proposal.

[wildriot]

Steter Week Day 5

It’s midday Saturday when Scott calls and begs Stiles for a favor.  Stiles, two days into his pre-heat, is fully prepared to deny him, but those puppy eyes are lethal, even through a phone, and he ends up agreeing to swap patrol shifts with Scott.  So he changes his clothes and heads out and is pleased when Peter joins him five minutes is.

It’s stupid, really, and irrational, but of all the alphas and betas in the pack, Peter is the one that gets his proverbial hackles up the least.  Maybe because, unlike the rest, Peter doesn’t use his dynamic as an excuse to act like an asshole – instead relying on his own personal charm to earn the title.

Stiles thinks at some point, a tally of all the shifts he’s spent with Peter running through his mind, that this might not be so bad.

Forty minutes later, they’re running for their lives.

“Fucking hunters,” Stiles growls, slogging his way through the mud.  “Always ruining everything.”

He’s out of breath, legs and lungs protesting the flat out sprint of the last who even knows how long.  The adrenaline’s starting to fade, the tepid beginning’s of exhausting slowly rearing it’s head and, to be perfectly honest, he really doesn’t think he can go much further.

Ahead of him, leading the way and dragging him along, Peter snorts.  “You have awfully low standards.”

Because focusing on Peter is better than thinking about what awaits them if they stop moving, Stiles takes offense.  “Excuse you,” he says, grip tightening on Peter’s hand as something – probably a tree root (they are in the Preserve, after all) – snags his ankle and nearly takes him down.  “I will have you know that my standards are reasonable.  Very reasonable.  So reasonable, in fact, that they spend their time reasoning with everyone else’s stupidly high expectations.”

“Is that right?”

“Yes!”

Peter just hums and Stiles silently flips him off.  In his head, obviously, he’s way too tired to do it for real.  

But Peter must sense his intentions anyway – all that werewolf-ism...ish? – and glances over his shoulder.  His eyes are glowing, too-bright in the darkness, and momentarily leaves Stiles blinking away white spots in his vision, and yet he still catches the tightening of Peter’s mouth, the way he seems to look past Stiles, deeper into the spaces they’ve left behind.

“Can you hear anything?” Stiles asks, trying to ignore the way his heart starts to bleed ice through his veins, sticky and cold.  He doesn’t think Peter can, over the rain and the noises they’re making, and Peter shakes his head.

“No,” he says.  

“But…?”

“But we have no idea what that thing was.  We can’t stop.”

Which is true.  Very true.  Hunters were one thing, but some sort of Lovecraftian hell-spawn was another thing entirely.  Just those few seconds in it’s presence, when it had entered the clearing where Stiles and Peter had been ambushed by a group of hunters, before it turned it’s attention to them and given them the chance to run, had been terrifying.  Stiles couldn’t even describe it.  The monsters they’d faced, human and not so much, had always scared him, but it had been the sort of fear that he could push aside and largely ignore until the problem was dealt with.

This, whatever it’d been?  It’d been fucking primal.

And he never wanted to feel that again.

So he shuts up, digs deep for the extra reserves he totally doesn’t have, and picks up the pace.  He doesn’t drop Peter’s hand.  He tries not to think about how, if Peter hadn’t been so quick to grab him, and Stiles had been left alone to race through the wet gloom of the Preserve, he’d most likely be dead right now.

They run for what could be another ten minutes, could be another hour. Stiles has no way of telling, phone dead and waterlogged in his pocket and he’s struggling.  The wet clothes are weighing him down, feet slipping across the forest floor more than before, and it’s only getting darker.

He’ll be damned if he says anything, though.  He cops enough shit from the pack as it is, being human and omega and thinking that he has what it takes to keep up with werewolves and alphas, because they’re jerks like that and he’s just stubborn enough to deny them the pleasure of being right even if it kills him.

Humans can do incredible things when their lives depend on it.  He saw that youtube video about that women that stopped a car from hitting her kid, yes he did, and he swears to god that if she could do it then so can he--

“Just a little further,” Peter says.

“Thank fucking Christ,” Stiles gasps.

Forget it.  He’s done.  Absolutely done, no energy left, no sir-ee.

Another handful of minutes and then they break through the treeline, staggering out into long grass and open skies.  The rain falls harder here, with no trees to act as a measly cover, which is just perfect, because it means Stiles can go longer than a couple of seconds without blinking the water out of his eyes and wishing his  hair was still short, if only so that it didn’t stick to his face like cold seaweed.  

Then Peter’s tugging him close, almost angling him so that Stiles is tucked into his side, and Stiles looks up, probably to ask him a flat why – they’re both soaked, the gesture is useless – when he sees what else is in the clearing, and instead ends up asking, “What?”

“We should be safe here,” Peter says, and starts forward, like he’s expecting Stiles to be okay camping out in some old house that looks, even in the dark, like it should’ve been torn down years ago for health violations.

Which, fine.  He wouldn’t be wrong – Stiles has always been freakishly adaptable to most things, and running for their lives during a freak storm is definitely a Thing – but, and Stiles is just putting this out there, really?

“With our luck?” He half snorts, half splutters.  “Doubt it.”

“So young,” Peter mutters, shaking his head.  “So cynical.”

“So old,” Stiles parrots, delighting in the way Peter tenses – so predictably – then relaxes.  “Such an asshole.”

Peter barks a laugh that’s drowned out by a sudden deluge.  

By unspoken agreement they both leg it across the remaining bit of what was likely once the front lawn and huddle underneath the overhang.

Stiles hugs his arms around himself while Peter fiddles with the lock. Kicks the toe of his shoe against the ground, bites his lip.

He must zone out, he thinks, because he jumps when the door swings open with a rusty shriek and Peter doesn’t look amused, only concerned, and doesn’t say anything smarmy before ushering Stiles inside.

“It’s safe,” Peter insists again, like he wants Stiles to believe him, and Stiles kind of wonders what his scent must be broadcasting, to get that tone in Peter’s voice.  “I promise.”

So Stiles looks over his shoulder at Peter strangely, a sort of ‘what gives?’ and sets off down the hallway.

The house is clearly old-fashioned.  All narrow and tight instead of the open and spacious.  It’s too dark to make out any detail, the little bit of diluted moonlight painted across the floor through the broken windows glinting dully off what Stiles assumes are bits of glass, maybe some metal fixings.

Peter is a steady presence at his back, a hand on his back.  The alpha is tense, strung tight like he’s on high alert and that’s making Stiles stress out even more, which is not fun and he kind of wants to tell Peter to chill out, only… This is Beacon Hills.  It’s the middle of the night.  Some creepy monster thingy is haunting the Preserve, and they’ve just spent the evening running for their lives.

In a town like this, you relax and you’re dead.  

In fact, a part of Stiles is actually, stupidly, rather pleased with the attention Peter’s giving him.  He feels like a priority, something important and it’s been so long since he felt like that…he just knows that’s the omega in him speaking, and firmly tells himself to knock it off.

“What is this place, anyway?” Stiles asks., figuring that, having nearly a decade and a half on him, Peter probably knows.  He doesn’t mean to be quiet, rarely ever is, yet something about this house reminds him of the Juniper Mausoleum he had to pass every time he went to visit his mom’s grave.

Peter is silent for long enough that Stiles labels it as hesitation, and opens his mouth to pester, when Peter finally talks.

“It’s my grandparent’s house.”

Stiles actually has to repeat the words back to himself before it sinks in.

“Wait what?”

Peter huffs a sigh.  “Of all the things – yes Stiles.  My grandparents lived here.  Happy?”

“No. I’m wet and I’m cold – what the hell happened to this place?”

“…”

“Peter?”

“They died.”

Well, Stiles considered, wincing.  Didn’t that just make him feel like a dick.

“Was it…?”  He isn’t sure what he want’s to ask.  Was it the fire? Hunters?  What?

And it’s like Peter reads his mind.  As the man maneuvers them up a flight of waterlogged stairs and into a room that Stiles is happy to see has all it’s window intact, Peter talks.

“It wasn’t the fire,” he begins.  “Though my father, Talia and I were never completely convinced that Hunter’s weren’t involved. They died when I was twelve.  Car accident, head on collision with a truck.”  He pauses, falling silent, and Stiles stands still as Peter drops his hand and moves away, heading towards what Stiles thinks might be an armchair.  “When they died… there are wards up around the clearing, still are.  When they died, this place, the house, the garden, everything, vanished.  Like it had never been here.  We spent years looking.  We could never find it.”

He watches Peter run his hands over the fabric and imagines the man must be trying to finds hints of familiar scents, doubts he’ll find anything after so long.

Stiles is lost for words.  They’re friends now – inasmuch as they wind up beside each other at pack meetings, and have a joint order at an Italian place that Stiles loves but can’t afford regularly and eats whenever he joins Peter for research at his apartment  – and Stiles has seen him with all manner of expressions and yet, this is maybe the most human Peter has ever been.

So he says, “I’m sorry,” and Peter waves his hand.

“It was a long time ago,” Peter says, voice light in a way that Stiles knows means the total opposite.  Peter pauses, then adds, “My mother was with them, in the car.”

“Jesus,” Stiles mutters before he can stop himself.  “You don’t have to, like, talk about it, or anything, not if you don’t want to.”

“Don’t you want to hear my story, Stiles?”

There’s an edge to his words, somethings Stiles can’t place, which makes him tip up his chin, makes him bristle like he’s been insulted. “Only if you want to tell it,” he says.

And maybe it was the right thing to say, because Peter seems to relax, shoulders no longer hunching forward, and he let’s out a quiet sound that might’ve been a laugh under different circumstances. “What’s a little more tragedy between us, right?”

Stiles snorts, and eases into the room, dropping his worry like yesterday’s laundry by the door.  There’s still a part of him that’s tense, keyed into every sound, every creak, but he’s not alone; he’s got Peter and, honestly?  That’s kind of reassuring.

“I wouldn’t call us tragic.”

“Then what would you call us?”

Stiles shrugs, and blinks and wonders at how everything is full of color, suddenly.  “Misplaced, I guess.”  

The colors makes his eyes hurt.  His head starts throbbing and he misses whatever Peter says when his blood starts rushing loudly through his ears and his fingertips go numb.

It reminds him of coming down from a sugar high as a child.

“Peter,” he says, or thinks he says, thinks he hears himself say, but he’s shaking so hard now he might not have said anything at all.  

And then Peter is right there, filling his vision.  He’s so close Stiles can feel his breath against his cheek but he’s blurry around the edges.  Sort of wobbly.

He swallows, focuses on not throwing up, whines, maybe, and lists forward.  “I don’t feel so good.”

“No,” Peter says.  “I imagine you don’t.  You’ve never Dropped before, have you.”

It’s not a question.  Stiles treats it as one, anyway.  “Almost once,” he says, and grabs onto Peter’s jacket because that is the only thing not spinning right now

He thinks of a funeral and the wreak of alcohol and the smell of a furious alpha.

Thinks of cold tiles and ambulance sirens and the fuzziness of medication. Thinks of being too young to understand what was happening.

“Oh god,” he groans, doesn’t fully register Peter grabbing him and holding him when he starts to sink down, legs folding beneath him. “Is that what this?  This can’t be happening.”

“It’s not ideal,” Peter agrees.  The world lurches, sways, making Stiles bury his face in Peter’s jacket, and the next time he resurfaces, it’s to find Peter has taken a seat in the armchair, and arranged Stiles so that he’s curled up his lap, feet free of his shoes, cold toes tucked between Peter’s thigh and the cushions, back pressed against the armrest.

“Just try and relax, sweetheart.”

And something just… slumps, inside him, goes warm and soft.

“That’s easy for you to say.”

Peter hums and Stiles kind of likes how it echoes through his own body, but then Peter is moving, jostling him around, and Stiles latches on, suddenly unbelievably terrified that he’s about to be displaced.

But Peter’s only awkwardly shrugging out of his jacket, which makes a certain amount of sense, being soaked through and all, and deftly flicking open the buttons of his shirt, baring his chest.

Stiles doesn’t even get the chance to appreciate the view before Peter is doing the same to him, shoving off his hoodie, sliding up his t-shirt.  The chill is immediate but Peter must’ve found a blanket somewhere and now covers him with it.

Stiles is certain he knows what Peter’s doing, positive he’s read about it, at least, and yet his brain isn’t making sense.  His throat is hot, bonding glands feeling swollen and puffy and his limbs basically useless.

“C’mere, sweetheart,” Peter says into his ear and Stiles huffs a whine and falls forward into the alpha’s warmth, into his strong grip.

He shoves his nose into alpha’s neck and inhales rapidly.  It’s maple syrup and warm blankets, sun-warmed soil with the bitter undertone of expensive coffee and something Stiles can’t name but craves anyway.

He probably isn’t under for longer than an hour.  Time passes and his mind… drifts, overcome by instinct and the overwhelming need to feel safe.

It feels like falling asleep, almost, stuck in that in-between where nothing feels real.

Wakefulness returns slowly, seeping in at the edges.  He is conscious of Peter’s hands running up his back, of his own hands curled into Peter’s chest.  The hint purr building in his chest tickles his throat and makes him blush, knowing how intimate that sort of reaction is, how intimate their position is; an unmated omega alone with an unmated alpha.  

His dad would lose his mind if he ever heard of this, which he was never going to if Stiles had anything to do with it.

Aside from their position though, Stiles feels… good.  Not better, still a little unsteady, but it isn’t as bad as before.

His fingers don’t feel like little ice-blocks, for one.  And he’s no longer shaking like some preteen that accidentally wondered into the horror showing in a cinema, which is wonderful, truly wonderful.  

Of course, there is the small matter – very small, certainly not a big deal at all – that he just Dropped for Peter.

Psycho Peter, whom the rest of the pack can’t stand and don’t trust.

Crazy Uncle Peter that pokes and needles until he’s got Derek looking ready to start throwing him through walls again, and drives everybody else insane.

Peter, who…

“Back with me, sweetheart?”

Peter who does things like that.  Calls him sweetheart and touches him like he’s something precious, something cared for, instead of a nuisance that’s too loud or too blunt or just too much.

Peter, who’s never mocked him for his dynamic, or put him down for instincts he can’t help.  Who always buys him his favorite coffee and orders in Italian food for him and never minds when Stiles just happens to fall asleep on his couch during a research binge because the house is empty and he’s so goddamn tired of being alone.

Peter, whom Stiles is just realizing he might be a little bit in love with, while sitting in his lap.

Talk about inopportune moments.

“… this is so embarrassing,” he mutters, feeling stiff and awkward.

Movement, then Peter’s fingers are tangling through his hair and tugging gently, sending a pleasant shiver down his spine.

Peter is quiet for awhile.

“It doesn’t have to be,” he says at last, quietly, like if he says it any louder, the meaning won’t be the same, will transform from something that makes Stiles’s heart stutter and race into something shallow and flippant.

Stiles swallows.  “You – you.  I, uh.”  He was not equipped to handle this kind of conversation.  “I am not equipped to handle this kind of conversation.”

“And what conversation would that be?”

Multitudes of snark appeared on the tip of his tongue, but he bites it back.  Breaths. Tries to get his thoughts in order.

“...you know very well what kind,” he settles on saying.

Peter doesn’t say anything in response to that.  He just sighs, turns his head so his nose is in Stiles’s hair, and somehow pulls Stiles closer.

It’s nice.  It’s so nice.  It’s the kind of nice that should be illegal and after the shitty night he’s had, Stiles is weak for it.

An illicit thrill runs through him when he thinks of what this would be like if Peter was his mate rather than just an alpha that his omega was sweet on… thinks of a soft bed and pillows that smell of both of them… thinks of purring, something he’s never done in front of anybody else before, ever.

“You are very young,” Peter says, sounding pained.

Stiles worries his bottom lip.  “I’m eighteen in two weeks,” he whispers, voice hitching.  He clears his throat, adds, “Besides. After everything that’s happened, am I really still that young? Are any of us?”

“The pack will never accept it.  Derek won’t accept it.”

“So? It’s none of their business.  I can do what I want.  Just because they don’t personally agree with what I do, doesn’t mean their opinion suddenly matters.”

“And Scott?”

“Scott,” Stiles starts, so sure of what he was going to say only to falter, because… because what if Scott didn’t understand?  Derek and the pack were one thing.  Stiles felt semi-responsible for them, mostly because he’d helped save all of their lives at some point, and that meant something, you know?  But Scott was his brother, they’d grown up together, and Scott still looked at Peter like he was never going to be anything but a spree-killing monster.

He made a helpless sound, frustrated and confused.

Peter soothed him, humming unintelligibly into his hair.  

“Let’s not talk about this now.  You’re e--”

“If you say I’m emotional, I swear to god I will hurt you.”

“-exhausted. Don’t lie to yourself, you’re running on fumes right now, and I am not a good enough man to let you regret anything else you might say tonight.”

“Fine.”

“Okay.”

“Just because you’re being reasonable.”

“Thank you, sweetheart.  Now, why don’t you try and get some sleep?  The wards won’t let anything through.”

“...why’d it let us through, then?”

“They were once keyed to Hales.  You were with me.”

“So… what would’ve happened if I hadn’t been with you?”

“Likely something suitably horrible.”

“Wow, great.”

****

They don’t ever really talk about it.  The next day, when the storm’s passed and everything is yellow-wet and sweet, Peter steers them through the Preserve, back to town.  They come out two streets over from Stiles’s house.

After… nothing really changes.  They spend time together, do things together.  Nobody notices.  Or, if they do, they don’t say anything.  The Sheriff isn’t home enough to notice how often his son is out, and when he is home, Stiles is careful to not make it so blatantly obvious that he’s spending at least three nights a week in a bed that isn’t his. It’s not like he’s trying to hide anything, exactly.  Just, he knows his dad, okay?  Knows exactly how much he would freak out if he knew what was going on and… well, sue him but he likes what he has now, and he doesn’t want to ruin it.

Outside of that, being with Peter and researching and hanging out with the pack, Stiles graduates, and seriously thinks about what he wants to do with the rest of his life, which leads to him hunting down a mage that’s willing to be his mentor in return for free labor and a research assistant and moving halfway across the country.

Peter is with him every step of the way and officially begins courting him on his twentieth birthday.

By his twenty second, they’re mated and back in Beacon Hills and Stiles is incandescently happy with the way his life is going and Peter is leading him through the Preserve after making him promise to keep his eyes closed.

Stiles does, reluctantly.

It’s spring, the day warm and the woods seemingly come to life with bird song and the quick scamper of small animals across the ground.

Peter’s hand is a familiar weight in his, fingers laced together in a way that should be awkward but isn’t and Stiles is busy cursing how no amount of training will ever make him the kind of graceful that means he isn’t always tripping over himself and--

Peter slows them to a stop, and Stiles has the sense that they’ve come to a clearing, sunlight warm on his face.

The air is filled with the subtle scent of flowers and fresh grass and there’s a sort of hush that’s fallen over the place, like even the birds have gone quiet in anticipation.

Peter steps up behind him, presses against his back, arms going around his waist.  Stiles relaxes against him, not bothering to hide his smile, or the way his scent goes mellow-sweet.

“Open your eyes, sweetheart,” Peter tells him, and Stiles does.

His breath catches.  

“Oh my god,” he says, staring.  He can’t help it.  He’s thought of the house often, wondered what it looked like in the daylight.  In the months after, he’d even thought of asking Peter to take him out again, show him around, but Peter had never mentioned it, not once, and Stiles had figured that it was one of those things that had too many bad memories to outweigh the good but…

“Peter,” he says.  “You…”

“I bought it,” Peter responds.  “Fixed it up.”  Then, while Stiles is still staring and speechless because the house is beautiful and equal parts Peter’s taste in architecture and Stiles’s taste in color, Peter shifts so he can press a kiss to the bondmark on his neck and says, “Consider this my mating gift to you.”

And Stiles breathes in, trying, and probably failing to contain his excitement, and says, “It’s perfect.”

And you know what?  It kind of really is.

[arcanadotcom]

𝕄𝕒𝕚𝕟 𝟞 𝕒𝕤 𝔻𝕣𝕚𝕧𝕖𝕣𝕤

⊱ ────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────── ⊰

(Hi everyone! I came up with these when me and my sister went out for a quick little drive after feeling sick of staying home 😘✌🏻 my driving skills got rusty. smh!)

(This is my first time writing so i’m sorry if they’re all over the place!)

⊱ ────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────── ⊰

☆ Asra

owns an old used car from the 90’s that makes you feel nostalgic

it kinda reeks of weed sometimes...

has random shit laying around the back including a blanket because he totally takes naps in the car between his classes

he’s a pretty slow driver (goes 23mph slower than the rest of traffic)

but as soon as he sees a yellow light he FLOORS IT

this lil shit never uses his blinkers...smh!

giggles when people cuss him out. he don’t give a fuck!

will always give you the aux cord because he vibes with whatever. any tunes you like, he likes too 🥰

often misses freeway exits because he’s too busy chatting with you (“wha..? oh haha...anyways!”)

he easily gets distracted with anything really, so you have to remind him to keep his eyes on the road all the time (it’s cute at first...but after a while it’s just annoying)

always offers to pick you up but never asks for gas money (pretends to forget but he just doesn’t care because it’s you and he care you <3)

overall he’s a cautious driver, he just has very erratic speed patterns and takes really shitty turns

★ Julian

has had the same old black car for about 8 years (hates that it’s a stick shift, but he got over it already)

he’s actually quite a responsible driver. doesn’t break transit rules

never got his license though, but it doesn’t really matter (u gotta do what u gotta do)

he never arrives on time, always late (super apologetic about it)

loses parking tickets and misplaces his keys all. the damn. time. so you usually end up carrying them instead

makes a HUGE fuss over your safety. please wear your seatbelt or else he will go bonkers

but at the same time will not hesitate to be your designated getaway driver (if you need to gtfo of somewhere, he will get you the fuck out of there)

he actually has to use glasses because his vision sucks and can’t read road signs. he looks so cute

his car doesn’t have an aux cord outlet, so he has a bunch of cassettes of different kinds of music ( 70’s rock, jazz, some obscure russian band, etc ) lying around. he can’t drive without music!

has a bit of road rage; if he’s with you he’ll mutter curses under his breath trying to keep composure

but when alone he will absolutely yell at people, but his way of doing it is somewhat.....endearing?

will occasionally bump into things, but has never caused any serious damage

has never been pulled over and only gets tickets due to expired parking meters in downtown (somehow manages to talk his way out of them all the time)

he’s had enough experience around the city so he talks to you about places no one really knows about

he will literally take you a random phone booth that is actually the entrance to a secret undergroung café that looks like a place where academics would hang out and conspire new literary movements

☆ Nadia

doesn’t drive, she has a chauffeur

but if she did, she would own one of those beautiful, modern, pearly off-white cars.

it’s perfectly clean, well kept and smells great

no food or drinks allowed inside. periodt

you’d probably be afraid of ruining the seat when you first get in. she assures you everything is okay

totally drives around wearing a pair of gloves, headscarf, and gorgeous sunglasses to protect herself from the sun. also because she’s so classy <3

she excels at everything in driving

flawless breaking and parking, but thinks that going around looking for a spot is a waste of time so she’d rather just pay extra for valet parking

her only flaw is that she gets super impatient with how long it takes for a red light to turn green

and she almost never stops for pedestrians

would usually call you to see if you’d like to go shopping with her or just accompany her for some errands (pls go with her she adores having you around 🥺)

doesn’t have a problem with giving you rides, but she’s always busy with a tight schedule, so rides from her are very rare

probably feels bad about it so she’ll send you an uber black instead

★ Muriel

hates going out because it means he has to drive ://

he just wants to get from point A to point B without any issues really

you’ll notice that his car always has a layer of dirt on it since he never really uses it (he doesn’t bother to give it a little wipe before hoping in)

would probably own a normal, practical car that gets the job done and doesn’t need much maintenance. nothing too fancy

.......but i really want to see him with a jeep so i’ll make him own a jeep ☺️

highkey anxious and hyperaware of his surrounding drivers

he looks too tense and grips the wheel hard....tell him to relax pls

if someone tries to pass him, he will absolutely give them a Look through the rear mirror

not one to listen to music (will sometimes turn on the radio but slams it off eventually because it’s annoying)

used to be terribly afraid of highways

mumbles and grumbles about how dangerous and stupid it is to carelessly swerve lanes just to go fast and look cool

☆ Portia

drives all the time so she’s definitely the most experienced on the road

owns a cute convertible beetle that she takes care of and loves very much ❤️ (has so many cute ass bumper stickers)

will not hesitate to change the tires on her own if needed

music is always loud and top is down most of the time

she’s got anything you might need in her glove box (hand cream? tissues? sanitizer? pocket knife? she has it yes ma’am)

when she’s by herself, laws simply do not exist

lowkey a threat to society. get her off

she goes so fucking fast like she zooms💨 down the road (mainly because she’s always on a hurry)

basically breaks whatever law she wants but once she spots a cop, citizen of the year

ohh but if you and/or anyone else is with her, it’s a whole different story

she drives carefully and slows down, would hate to put your safety at risk (same as julian)

road trips with her are THE BEST. going on drives with her always feel like a scene from a coming of age film 💕✨🧚‍♀️

★ Lucio

not necessarily an irresponsible driver, he’s just reckless and obnoxious

owns a restored, fancy vintage car that’s either red or white (his license plate is personalized, bedazzled and borderline opulent). genuinely proud of it

revs the engine just to piss people off

is always willing and able to be there for you if you need him

when he’s there to pick you up, he will absolutely make a scene for you to notice him. simply giving you a call is out of the equation!

the backseats are full of white hair...you know he brings his adored babies everywhere he goes

blasts music at an ASTRONOMICAL VOLUME and he just sits there like 🤪✌🏻🎶🕺🏼

but believe it or not, his music taste is actually really good....it slaps. so it’s okay

likes to drive fast (“oh you want to see some speed? i’ll show you some real speed”)

cannot stand traffic and slow drivers make him go batshit crazy

honks at everyone for everything but gets offended if they honk back >:(

you’ll still see him at the red light despite him doing 84 lane changes

tells you he LOVES the attention he gets because of the car, but then feels super self conscious if people stare too much or too long......although he will never admit it

this guy loves to gossip with you and likes to make fun of random pedestrians... you gotta admit he makes you snicker quite a bit. who am i kidding he’s funny as fuck of course you’re gonna laugh

doesn’t slow down for speed bumps, will blow quick kisses at the little fake cameras on top of the traffic lights, and has definitely scratched the lower sides of his car on curves more than once (*frantic wheel stirring* “not my fault not my fault!!”)

this man’s biggest struggle is parking. he cannot park for shit (secretly embarrassed about it)

it takes FOREVER for him to parallel park. might as well snooze while he’s at it

genuinely tries his best, going as far as to do the “arm behind the seat to look back” move (he wants to impress you dammit!!), but gets frustrated and gives up

so most of the time he ends up taking two spots despite trying so hard not to

gets tickets all the time (“now they’re ganging up against me! and for what?? what the fuck did i do!!”)

cannot comprehend street signs (“lucio you will get a $650 fine” “darling wdym?? it costs $650 to park here”)

going on a drive with him can be stressful and a bit crazy, but it’s always entertaining and you get the best stories to tell

[kristinee]

New Girl (Pt.1)

Pairing: JJ Maybank x Reader

Warnings: Swearing, Mention of Death

Word Count: 1.2K

Summary: You just moved to the Outerbanks this summer because of your dad’s business, you weren’t all that excited until you met a boy who would make this transition a whole lot easier.

A/N: I haven’t really written much fanfic, I used to write a little but not so much anymore. I’m a little rusty but I promise I can do better. I am however planning on making this a multi-part series, I really hope you guys enjoy it and lmk what you’d like to see later on as it progresses. 

It was your first full day out in the Outerbanks and you wouldn’t say you were too excited to have moved down here. You had a life settled back home but you wanted to go along with what was best for your dad. You lost your mom a few years ago and it was tough on both of you, especially him. A few months ago he was given an amazing offer to transfer his boating business here and it made him happy. You loved life but maybe a fresh start was what you needed. It couldn’t be that bad right? Fresh water, warm weather, maybe some cute guys. You tried to be optimistic but it was difficult not knowing the town yet.

From what you had heard from the locals, you lived on The Cut, a place for the more working-class type people which was the counterpart to the Figure Eight, where the rich lived. It wasn’t quite the dynamic separation you were used to but you would figure it out as you explored. 

“Hey dad, is it alright if I take one of the boats out on the water for a bit?” You asked already scooting towards the rack on the wall. “You know we haven’t been here very long. Wouldn’t it be better if we went together?”

He questioned what you were plotting but honestly, you just needed a breather for the time being. “I just wanted some alone time is all. I promise I’ll be back before dark.” He hesitantly let you go. You hurried out the door, excited to just get to know the area but leaving your phone on the counter. He yelled something before you left but you were far gone. You started up the boat and got going so you could cover some ground while the light was still out. In all honesty, maybe this change wouldn’t be so bad after all. It was just you and the open water, nothing could come between you and that liberating feeling….except the fact that the boat was running low on gas. “Fuck”. You quickly reached out to grab your phone to be met with an empty pocket. “How could I be so stupid?”, you sat frustrated with your face in your palms. It took a minute of cool down but you figured you’d see a boat sometime being you weren’t that far away from “The Cut”. Your eyes scanned the clear horizon until you saw a small boat in the distance. As soon as you knew, you raced to the back steering wheel and frantically honked the horn. Once the boat stopped you stood on the bench and began to wave your arms, hoping to god they’d see you so you’d get home before your dad got too worried. “Hey!, over here!” You kept yelling as they sped up towards your boat. It was some group of kids your age, as they approached you could see the group more clearly but one person caught your eye in particular. He was a cute blonde boy with the most beautiful blue eyes, you didn’t know his name but intended to find out. “Hey guys, my name’s Y/N, nice to meet you” you put your hand out to shake theirs but instead got a high five from the blondie.

“ Don’t mind him, I’m John B”, the long-haired brunette boy spoke up. “And this is Pope, Kiara, my girlfriend Sarah, and high five guy over here is JJ.” He paused looking at the unfamiliar boat “Are you new? I’ve never seen you around before.” He asked, you were guessing he was a local on this side of the island. “Yeah, I just got here yesterday actually. I live down the bay with my dad’s boating business which is kind of ironic seeing that I broke down because I ran out of gas.” they laughed at the quick little story which helped ease the awkwardness slightly.

 “Oh we were going down there anyway.  Get on our boat here and just let me just get the rig so we can tow you back.” It was a good feeling knowing they were so warm and welcoming even though you were the new girl here. You hesitantly hopped on their boat (With JJ’s help) and sat down near the girls quietly. It was an awkward boat ride until Sarah spoke up with an idea. “ Y/N, I was thinking, since you’re new here and all you could hang out with us tomorrow at John B’s house.” she definitely seemed to be the nicest one here next to John B.

“C’mon, you’re inviting some new girl to hang out with us?” JJ spoke up. It seemed like he was teasing but you couldn’t really read him like that yet. You thought about it but maybe it wasn’t the best idea since your dad might be kind of wary of his daughter going out with a group of random teenagers. You were going to answer when Kiara snapped at JJ

 “Oh shut it JJ, I saw you staring at her ass when you were “helping” her on the boat”, she emphasized her point with verrrry dramatic air quotes. Pope laughed at what she said which was your first impression from him. You just met but you already had these girls backing you up. Maybe it’d be good for you to jump into a new experience, you weren’t exactly the most outgoing, adventurous girl where you came from. It took a few more silent minutes until your boat was towed to the dock. You gathered your things when you saw your dad waiting. “What happened to the boat, who are these kids?” he quickly questioned while mostly eyeing the boys that stood near you. “Dad it’s okay. I just met them out in the water, they live down the way. This is Pope, Kiara, John B,his girlfriend Sarah and AJ.” (You had to get back at JJ for the teasing earlier). This time JJ properly shook hands, with your dad this time “ Correction. JJ by the way. Good evening sir, it seems your boat ran out of gas while Y/N was out. Might have to teach your daughter a little better on how boats operate.” His sarcasm jumped out again. Your eyes went wide hoping your dad would just laugh off a comment like that. “You know, might just have to.” He laughed at what JJ said and you were relieved, he was the kind to have some type of comeback and you were lucky he didn’t.

They waved as you and your dad said goodbye and were cleaning up outside “You seem to be pretty perky.” your dad commented as you walked inside. It’d been a while since he’d seen you so happy “Yeah, they were super nice and everything and-” you were hesitant to finish what you were saying because it was likely he’d say no but you went for it. “And they wanted to know if I could hang out with them tomorrow, to show me around the town, maybe even give us some places to sail out to.” You weren’t looking at him but you could tell he wasn’t too thrilled with the idea. He wasn’t really the one to let you go out with strangers but seeing you happy meant a lot to him. Even if he moved for business, it was also because your old lives held so many bad memories. It was about time to make good ones. “You can go, just don’t forget your phone this time so I can call you.”

Part 2 should be written tomorrow or Saturday, I hope you guys like where this is going so far!

[wtf-yoongi]

“Let me play you what I have.”

pairing | yoongi x reader

summary | yoongi asks for your help with a song

genre/warnings | you’re both musicians (even though you don’t work in the music industry) so musician fluff i guess?

words | 1,648

note | i’m not even kidding at this point i think i’m in love with yoongi and i’ve never been more serious in the entirety of my life

“Mine was never this glamorous,” you joke as you stare into the high ceilings of the ground floor of the building. “This place is gigantic.”

“Well, it is fancy and over the top,” Yoongi agrees and shrugs as if he’s 100% indifferent to it all. “But this is just to impress visitors.”

You look around, trying to take in as much as you can while you follow Yoongi to the elevator area. Everything seems to be made of either glass or marble – well, the best glass and marble money can buy. The attention to detail is remarkable and you can’t help but agree with Yoongi: this is a little bit over the top.

“I thought you had seen this the last time you were here.” He looks at you now, taking turns between staring at your face and your hands. You can’t do it here where the walls are made of glass even if he’s wearing a cap and a mask, but you know his fingers are twitching.

“Not really,” you correct him and shake your head lightly. “First time I was here was before the tour. You gave me a ride and we took the elevator straight from the garage.”

“Oh…” Yoongi nods. He remembers now. “I should have showed you the place that day, sorry. We were in a rush.”

There’s a soft sound, signaling one of the elevators has finally arrived. Yoongi impatiently taps his right foot on the ground like he just wants the doors to open faster. You know he’s a little apprehensive from the moment he calls you to come around earlier, but you didn’t think you’d find him like this. 

You just want to calm him down somehow.

As soon as you’re safe inside the elevator with the doors closed, you extend your hand to him and his fingers stop fidgeting immediately to take yours. “You didn’t have to come greet me downstairs,” you comment casually, but there’s gratitude in your eyes.

“I know, I wanted to,” he says, taking his mask off and putting it in his pocket with his free hand. “And I needed to get out of the studio a little bit.”

“Something wrong?”

“Just a song that won’t come together, the usual,” he mocks and smiles to the ground. “This one is going to be stubborn, I just know it. I’ve been playing with this idea for days now and I don’t think I have a full verse yet.”

Yoongi’s voice is tired and passionate at the same time. Even if he’s complaining about it, you know he likes this sort of struggle to accomplish something he’s happy and satisfied with – the reward may be as grand as the effort. He’s always hoping for that. Artists are always hoping for that, you know it all too well.

“I was actually hoping you’d help me, if you don’t mind.”

He brings it up quietly and casually, but when you turn your face to him he’s not looking directly at you, deciding to keep his stare into the ground. He isn’t exactly comfortable with that idea and doesn’t know if it’ll work, but he’s happy to try.

You’ve talked about doing something together, working on lyrics or melodies or whatever came to mind, but never put much thought into it. Like that old group of friends who keep on saying you should meet sometime, but never actually do. You’re not mad if it never happens, somethings aren’t supposed to happen anyway.

Yoongi finally raises his head after he doesn’t hear it from you for a while, eyes expecting a positive reply so he doesn’t have to pretend that never happened somehow. Inside his mind, he’s already thinking about ways he can make it less awkward.

“That’s why you asked me to come?” You ask in a curious tone. 

“Well, yeah,” Yoongi laughs lightly and presses his left hand to the back of his neck, scratching it a bit in a nervous habit. “It’s ok if you don’t want to, though. It’d be good to just hang around and do nothing as well, I’m just waiting for some papers I have to sign and we can go somewhere if you want. It’s probably good to give the song some time as well, since…”

“We can try something, yeah,” you interrupt before he runs out of air. “I’m a little rusty, though, I don’t really know if I’ll be able to help with anything.”

“Nah, don’t worry about it.” Yoongi shakes his head and his hand follows. “I want you to listen and give me your opinion, that’s already enough for me. And I highly doubt it.”

You don’t have time to question him what the last part is about. As if on queue, you arrive on the 21st floor and it’s really not as fancy as the lobby, just like you remember, but you can see someone was still thoughtful enough to add fresh flowers to the vase in the corner. The people in charge of running the building are not sleeping on the job.

Yoongi is silently dragging you around the corridors and you can see the directions on the wall, but not for long enough to make any sense of them. A dozen more steps and you both stop in front of a door, Yoongi quickly tapping the keyboard on the right. There’s a beep before it opens.

He reaches inside to turn on the lights, but ultimately lets you in first. The room looks just like the last time, simple and straightforward in furniture and color, but not in music equipment. You can see he upgraded the digital piano to one that looked more like a real one, but still plugged to the wall. Maybe it makes him feel better knowing it’s a little similar to the real deal?

“New piano?”

“Yeah,” he assents, closing the door behind him. “These keys feel a little better, you know?”

Yes, you know. You can always tell when the keys just feel better under your fingertips. Playing becomes easier, practicing technique feels less like a pain. You nod.

“Let me play you what I have.”

You sit on the couch in one corner while Yoongi sits on his own chair, moving his magic mouse to light up the screen in front of him. You can see there are many layers on top of one another, but definitely not as many as you would expect coming from him. 

You’ve seen him working from home well past midnight, shirt half dressed with headphones on, keeping quiet so he doesn’t notice you behind him. Making music is intricate, but Yoongi likes it even worse, adding one thing on top of the other, filter after filter, until it feels like it’s too much and he can finally recognize what is standing out in a bad way. Then he mutes and saves the ones he likes for another time.

He makes some quick adjustments before pressing the spacebar, turning slightly so he can see your reaction. The beat you hear is nothing out of the ordinary – it’s a 4/4 time signature major key song, exactly how most happy pop ones go.

However, in true Yoongi style, there’s something else to it. The bass line tricks your head into some sort of rhythm and, despite having the poppiest of beats, you can hear an acoustic guitar streaming in the very background, almost unnoticeable. More bars pass and you can now hear a piano playing some sort of arpeggio – simple, but effective. It grows into what you feel is a chorus and then Yoongi is hitting the spacebar again.

“That’s all I have,” he confesses and shrugs, looking at you from under his eyelashes and trying to figure out your puzzled expression.

“It’s good, I like it,” you start and he’s soon looking at you incredulously, waiting for the real response. “Yeah, it needs work, but you made it sound like you had nothing.”

You’re both chuckling softly now and Yoongi lets his body fall into the chair completely, covering his face with his hands.

“Tell me what I have to do!” He begs with a muffled voice. “I hate this song already.”

All of a sudden, you feel like you should have done this earlier. His busy schedule kind of gets in the way all the time, but not really all the time. You wish any of you had enough courage to bring this up earlier, to stop being that group of friends that say things with no real weight to them. 

Musicians are sometimes overprotective of their work or scared to stick their noses into somebody else’s, but Yoongi falls into his normal self too fast – too comfortable, no sign of nervousness anymore. He’s not scared to show you his unfinished and imperfect work. It feels like you’ve been doing this for ages.

“I told you I’m a bit rusty, I…”

“Oh, don’t say that,” he interrupts with a smile, letting his hands show his face again. “You’re a classically trained pianist, 15-plus years of music classes under your belt, three years of being a trainee with top marks in songwriting. You can’t say you’re rusty when I hear you playing my piano at home. You’re not. At all,” he emphasizes as you continue to laugh at his reaction.

“Yeah, but I have almost zero experience in music production. And I also gave up being an idol so…” You try to argue, but he’s not having any of it.

“I bet you my new piano you have at least 13 ideas for this, I just feel like you do.”

There’s a smirk on his face now you can’t resist.

“Where are the lyrics you wrote for this?” You ask and Yoongi soon hands you a notepad with many lines scribbled on the first page. “Can you hand me that pen?”

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[tloujm]

Part XV: How About Now?

Author’s Notes: Nothing to see here but Joel slowly breaking out his dad jeans and interacting with the fic’s newest character. I hope y’all enjoy this one. It’s a little bit longer than the last two and its a build up to some major fluffy plot development.

Genre: Fluff with a couple drops of angst

Summary: Joel tries to bond with the new girl. He convinces you to go camping with him. The two of you take the relationship to the next level.

Ship: Joel x Reader

Joel’s boots crunched against the wet gravel as he found himself walking toward the daycare center. He knew that you’d be there. This week had been so busy for the two of you, that you’d barely gotten time to see each other. He acknowledged what the feeling was that pulled at his heart strings; he missed you. 

With the intention of pulling you away from your duties, if only for a moment, Joel walked inside and glanced around the play room for you. His eyes fell on something familiar, but it was not you. It was his jacket that he recognized, still wrapped around the shoulders of the new little girl who arrived in Jackson not so long ago. It was as if she had never taken it off. Joel noticed that she was sitting by herself at a table. As he walked closer, he found that she was drawing. His heavy footsteps alerted her, causing her to drop the pencil in her hand and look up at him. With a low grunt, he crouched down until he was eye level with her. 

She shrugged off the jacket and handed it to him. “No, you can keep it, kiddo. I have another.” He waved it away before she placed it on her lap like a blanket. “Let’s see what you’re drawing here. Oh, well now I believe this one is called a Velociraptor. Yep, I learned this from a little known movie that came out back in…’93 I wanna say. Some feisty creatures. They may have been small compared to the rest, but you wouldn’t wanna get on the wrong side of those fellas.” Joel said, filling up the air of the one sided conversation. “You ever seen a dinosaur in real life? S’pose you haven’t. That’s wayyyy before your time.” He attempted to make her laugh. “Technically, I’ve seen them, their bones at least. I used to go to science museums all the time before the outbreak. You’ve probably never been to one, have you?” He genuinely waited for an answer, to which she barely shook her head. “I know of one not too far from here. Maybe me and (Y/N) will take you one day if you’re up to it.” Joel got back up slowly and stretched his legs until his knees popped. He tipped his imaginary cowboy hat as a farewell and continued his search for you. 

Joel eventually found you in the backyard taking down laundry from the line. “Hi, darlin’.”

You put the clip back on the line and threw yourself into his arms. “Hey! I missed you.” Hearing you say that melted his heart.

“Missed you too. You know, I was thinking we should go campin’.”

“That’s random.” You laughed off his suggestion.

“Why? I reckon we can go hiking, fish, cozy up next to a fire, lay under the stars.”

“I don’t even know how to fish.”

“I’ll teach you.” He rubs the back of his neck. “I might be a bit rusty. I mean I haven’t gone fishing since I was a kid, but I’ll get back into the swing of things. But those other things, I know you like.”

“I mean I do, but we can do that here in Jackson.” You countered.

“Yeah, but it’ll be something different.”

“I don’t know, Joel. Ever since we settled here, we haven’t gone beyond the gates unless we had to.”

“C’mon now, don’t tell me you forgot about your birthday. The aquarium, remember?”

You glare at him knowingly. “How can I ever forget. But in my defense, I didn’t know we were going to leave the walls of Jackson. All you said was that it was a surprise and that was it. I just don’t want to run into any hunters or people from a hostile settlement.”

“I thought I was the worrisome one in this relationship.” Joel joked. “Listen, this ain’t our first rodeo. We’ve survived a lot out there and not for nothin’. People or clickers, we’re good at staying alive and even better at it when we’re together.” He placed his hands on your shoulders and rubbed them up and down your arms. “I promise we won’t go far. We’ll pick a patch of land along a recently cleared route. I trust you. You trust me?” You nodded. “Good! We’ll have fun! This is excitin’.”

“You know, I’ve never gone camping before.” You spoke up.

“Really? Not even an RV or cabin?”

You shook your head. “You know I love nature just as much as you, but I’m really just a city girl. I was used to seeing animals on tv or behind a barrier at the zoo. The wildest animal I’d ever seen before the outbreak was a raccoon. Maybe the occasional deer. The closest to hiking I ever did before was at a nature preserve park. It may all be outside, but damn, the actual woods are a whole other story.” He let out a light laugh. “Before the outbreak, I bought all my meat from the store and had a tendency to kill every plant I owned.”

“Well now look at ya, a natural country girl.”

You laughed. “I never chose this life. This life chose me.”

“It chose a lot of folks, but it suits you.”

“You don’t gotta butter me up anymore, I already agreed to go camping with you.” You said while giving him a sly smile.

“I mean it, it does.”

“Why do you wanna go camping anyway? I can see a hike for the afternoon, but everyday out there since the outbreak has felt like one big camping trip.”

“That wasn’t campin’. The difference is that campin’ is fun, you’ll see.” He tried to convince you.

“You still haven’t answered my question.” You said. He looked at you blankly. “Why though! We’ve been in Jackson for years now and you’ve never suggested it before.”

He shrugged. “Now just seems like a good time. Jackson’s in a good place. They won’t miss us for a day or two. Besides, we have some downtime coming up and I feel like I haven’t really gotten to spend time with you in awhile. I just want it to be you and me again for a minute.” He blushed at the last part.

You smiled at his defensive romantic side. “Kind of like a romantic weekend getaway?” You playfully wiggled your eyebrows.

He deepened the tone of his voice. “That’s exactly what it’s gonna be.”

“When should we go?”

“How’s the day after tomorrow sound?” He suggested.

“Sounds perfect.” You replied. The idea of camping was growing on you. The clothes line was now empty and the basket was full of folded linen. Joel followed you as you walked back inside to put them up. 

“Now, onto other business.” He began.

You looked back in confusion. “What else is there?”

“I don’t know if you recall, but I remember a certain someone promising another certain someone that she’d move in with that…certain some...the original someone…wait um...” Joel began stammering over his thoughts. “It’s you. That certain someone was you who promised that if I made you breakfast in bed, you’d live with me again; no more of this back and forth. And if you recall again, I did in fact make you that breakfast.”

“Pancakes and freshly squeezed orange juice? How could a girl forget? They were delicious by the way.”

“For bonus points, I do remember being right as well when I said there wasn’t gonna be any bloaters in that manor.” Joel added on. “So what do you say?” He asked, trying to hide his eagerness.

“Suppose you were right about that, so yeah sure.” You said.

He looked at you for a moment before looking down at his feet. “Don’t make it sound like you’re doing it because you lost a bet or somethin’. If you’re not ready, I have no intention of forcing you, but,” He lets out a sigh. “I guess I don’t understand why you wouldn't want to.”

“Joel, I didn’t mean to say it like that. I love you, you know that.”

“Sounds like a ‘but’ is coming on.”

“It’s just new to me is all. I know we’ve lived together once, but I’ve never had a serious relationship with anyone before you and I sure as hell never lived with a romantic partner before you. The outbreak happened right after I graduated college. I only ever lived with my parents and a couple of roommates. I know it sounds stupid, but I’ve never had my own place before where it was just me doing whatever I wanted, however I wanted, wherever I wanted. I love spending time with you, believe me I do, but there’s something about having your own space, you know. I hate the way in which I got here, me having my own place, but I’ve grown to like it. Does that make me selfish?” You genuinely asked.

He let out a deep sigh. “No, it doesn’t. But, you know It’d be your house too. It won’t be you moving into my house; it’d be you coming back to our house. If you’re comfortable here, I can move in with you or we can find a whole new house altogether.”

“I don’t know, Joel.” You replied.

“Just think about it alright, darlin?” He requested. He stuck his hands in his back pockets and paced the floor around the linen closet. The air fell silent, but he wasn’t done pleading his case. He just had to find the words. “You may account your life experiences, or lack thereof, to being young, but you probably never thought about the fact that I’ve never lived by myself before the outbreak either. I was a teen dad. I went from living with my dad and brother to living with my daughter and her mother. After she left us, it was just me and Sarah all the way up until that day. After me and Tommy fell out, I was on my own for the first time. I...uh...It wasn’t easy; none of it.” He shook his head before looking at you with tired, pleading eyes. “I’m tired of being alone, (Y/N).” He sniffled and then you saw the corner of his mouth twitch up. “I know I’m not much to look at in the morning, but I want nothing more than to wake up next to you everyday. That’s where I stand, (Y/N), but if that’s not where you are, that’s ok ‘cause you’re the only one I’d wait for. I just want you to want this too.”

“Joel, I never...I” You tried to begin. He was right, you never thought about the fact that he always had someone. When you first met him, you grew to know him as a withdrawn, independent man. “I want to wake up next to you too, but not just that. I want to spend the middle of my day and end of my day with you too in our house.” You stood on your tiptoes and rubbed the pad of your thumb against his wrinkles. 

He closed his eyes at your touch. “I need you to mean that.”

“I do.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too!” You smiled up at him.

“How much longer do you have here?” Joel inquired.

“I just have to finish folding the laundry.”

“Meet me at your place when you’re done. I’ll go and find some boxes.”

“Wait, what?”

“What better time than now? The rest of my day is clear and we still have a few more hours of daylight. What do you think, darlin’?” You playfully rolled your eyes at his eagerness, but seriously couldn’t think of a reason not to start today.