#but i needed to jot them down somewhere before i forgot them

[sevicia]

I wanted to make a cleaner summary of last week's classes and also review the classes I have this week since the material is already uploaded beforehand but I was feeling so horrible throughout the day that when I sat down I was just gonna look at the ones for tomorrow but I think I'm just gonna go to bed because I just gave my little numbers game a few tries and not even the joy of tribial elementary school-level math games is bringing my brain cells and/or full sentience back

[ilovefakemilitarymen]

Deal with the Devil

~Professor!John Price x Student!Reader (Part Two)

____________________________

Read Part One Here: x

Requests are currently open!

Word Count: ~3.6K

CW: Minors Do Not Interact, NSFW, Smut, Inappropriate Teacher/Student Relationships, Sexual Tension, Praise Kink, Name Calling (good girl, sweetheart), not really much aftercare, AFAB Reader, She/Her Pronouns, Face Fucking, Fingering.

When you finally make it to class, Price is nowhere to be seen. You were a few minutes early, hoping to be as pointed as he usually is, trying to see if there was anything else he needed for the day. A few other students file into class behind you and you take your usual place, sitting in the front row. There aren't many students that actually show up to his class anymore, most of them just take the failure on their transcript or drop the class altogether.

You’d like to think that Price had respected your determination, and that's why he had agreed to the extra credit in the first place.

You’re half-buried in your textbook when he finally walks in, coffee in hand. He offers you a simple smile, as well as the rest of the students. He always extends kindness to his students, so you don’t expect special treatment, however, it still comes.

“Sleep well?” He finally looks over to you, talking low as he sits his bag against his desk. It takes you off guard slightly. You only give him a small nod, your eyes following his face, and he moves to sit at the edge of his desk.

“Let’s get started, shall we?” The question seems to fall on deaf ears as no one replies to him, but despite that, he begins his lecture anyway.

You fall into staring at him, watching as he moves back and forth in front of the whiteboard, jotting down terms and dates. You can’t get yourself to focus on a single one with how his pants hug his thighs nicely, nearly busting out of the seams with one small misstep. You watch as he moves, eyes taking in every inch of the man. Somewhere in the depths of your mind, you had wished he would have just asked to fuck you in return for extra credit. He just exudes the kind of energy of a man that’s good in bed.

When your eyes finally move to his face, he’s watching you. He gives you a small smirk, and you can barely hide the flush at being caught. He probably knows about your not-so-little infatuation with him and the fact that he didn’t take advantage of it directly when you had asked for extra credit just made him so much more attractive to you. You try your best to focus on your notes, swearing to deny anything he says to you about the staring.

Finally, he begins to wipe away the information on the whiteboard, clearing his throat and you realize that you’ve spent well over forty-five minutes just drinking him in. You curse to yourself, another class directly down the drain, and swear to yourself that you’ll read and re-read the chapter he had gone over several times before you go to sleep tonight.

“Enjoy the rest of your day,” He finally speaks to the class, and you hang back as the others leave. The lump in your throat forms at being caught staring at him multiple times. You need to tell him about his meeting, the damn meeting.

When he finally does speak up to you, you had fully expected to be called out, but he leaves it in the air between the two of you, focusing on your agreement instead, “What does the rest of my day look like?” He finally looks over to you, dusting his hands off and leaning against the front of his desk.

You cough, trying to collect your composure and glancing at the clock, “You have a meeting in about an hour.” When you finally speak it sounds rehearsed, and you know he catches on. He’s a smart man, a very smart man. You know you look absolutely ridiculous to him right now.

“Right, I almost forgot about that one,” He nods as he keeps talking, his gaze moving to the clock, “I’m gonna need you to come with me to that…to take some notes.” His eyes move back to you to gauge your reaction. His eyes were stern and you give him a nod before looking down at your clothes.

You don’t look bad by any means, but jeans and a tee shirt is definitely not business attire, “Should I go change? This is hardly professional.” You speak, unsure of your words but he just gives you a small laugh.

“It’s nothing important, just meeting with a couple of colleagues. You look fine. I just need you there to keep me on track.” You watch him, arms crossed against his chest and you give him a small smile as you nod to him.

“I can do that.”

“I’m sure you can,” He smirks at his words before he jerks his head towards the door, signaling you to follow him and you hurriedly grab your things and make your way out.

You pick up the pace, trying to settle into a good stride right beside him. It was a nice stroll through the grounds, but the weather was poor, so many of the students could be found hiding away in their respective dorms. Some part of you was happy about that; not wanting to explain why you were with the professor.

It doesn’t take long until he shuffles you into a small conference room and all eyes are on you, and you wonder what they think of you. Teacher’s Pet. New Teacher’s Assistant. You just hope they all assume you’d signed up to be his TA. He takes a seat among his colleagues, and you have to admit, he lives up to the drill sergeant comment that the other student had made. He commands a room like no other.

You sit silently as the meeting starts, jotting down things that seem important. There’s a comment about another meeting and you write that in the margins of his planner, keeping it in the forefront of your brain, needing to put it in your own so you don’t forget to remind him about it.

It goes on without a hitch, but, with the slight smell of coffee and tobacco, Price leans in to whisper in your ear, “Jot that down,” and his hand taps on the notebook you had splayed in front of you. You try to hide the way your breath gets caught in your throat, but you know he’s way too close to ignore it. You keep your eyes on the notebook, but with all honesty, you don’t even know what to write down, all the thoughts in your head blocking out what the other men say in favor of pulling the feeling of his breath on your ear to the forefront of your mind.

You’re sure he can hear your heartbeat from here and you move your hand up to chew at your nails, trying to conceal the slight flush on your cheeks. It does no good, and you can only silently thank any god that would listen that nobody else has eyes on you.

Nobody else but him.

Your hands are shaking when you try to write down the next thing being said, and it’s honestly no use but you try anyway.

“You’re doing good,” His words are quiet as they filter into your ears, and this time, your eyes shoot over to look at him, and he, surprisingly, looks slightly proud of himself. The praise is what finally breaks you, and you know he knows it.

You pull your eyes away from him, readjusting yourself in your seat and trying your best to pretend to be okay. Pretend like his words weren’t setting you on fire in the seat and tearing you apart.

The meeting finally comes to a close and you quickly shut the notebook and planner, shoving it into your bag and Price is waiting for you at the door when you finally gather your things. There’s a wet heat between your legs and you silently curse yourself for letting him rile you up so much.

He’s doing it on purpose. You’re not for sure, but the proud look on his face says it all.

The walk back to his office is silent, too silent, and you stray slightly behind him as you try to keep his eyes off of you as much as possible.

Your mind is stuck on the feeling of his breath and the way it had fanned against your face, tickling your throat. It sticks a lump there that you can’t swallow down.

When Professor Price finally unlocks the door to his office, he finally speaks, “You seem a little quiet, is there something on your mind?” He doesn’t look at you as he speaks, only opening the door and you follow him inside.

The room is dimly lit, yellow light from the small lamp in the corner resting on the both of you.

“Yeah, but I got some good notes for you.” You feign ignorance.

You know what he’s talking about, but the embarrassment keeps the words you want to say to him from coming out. You don’t let him know that you would much rather him push you up against the wall and fuck you right there. You don’t tell him you want to feel his fingers wrap around your throat.

You don’t tell him because he probably knows.

You feel like a wild animal backed into a corner.

In the small room, just you and him, and you didn’t see that he had clicked the lock on your way in.

“You know, Ms. (l/n),” Price finally speaks again, and your hands shake at your sides, “I’m not a stupid man.” He leans against the heavy wood desk when he finally speaks again, and this is it. This is when he finally fails you. “Did I distract you?” His words are heavy when they finally leave his lips.

“Maybe,” It’s the only thing you can get to leave your lips, and you curse yourself for not being more confident. His gaze tears you down, opening you up for him to see all the attraction. The need for him evident on your features.

“How would you feel if I told you that you’re distracting to me as well,” His words are low, just between the two of you despite being the only ones in the room, “When you stare at me the way you do, can barely get through a lecture with your eyes on me.”

You stay silent, words unable to form in your throat, but he finally continues, “Won’t you be a good girl for me and get on your knees? I’ll show you how much you distract me.”

With that, the dam finally breaks.

“Yes sir,” You barely get the words out and your bag is all but thrown to the floor, resting against the wall, and your eyes stay on his face when you move, knees bending, sending a jolt through you when they finally hit the ground in front of him.

He looks so good in this lighting, and your hands shake as they reach for the front of his pants.

His own hands catch yours before they finally reach him, stilling you and you look back up to his face. There’s a slight worry etched across his features when he speaks, “You can tell me no, sweetheart,” His words take you off guard, “You say the word and you can leave and I’ll still give you the extra credit.”

Somehow, the fact that he wanted to make sure this was a mutual thing only makes you more turned on. You nod to him, trying to find your words, and they barely come out as a whisper to him, “I want to,” You speak and he nods, moving his hand away from your hands to press it against your chin. His thumb rubs sweetly at your cheek, tracing the outline of your lips as you look up at him, eyes staring wide into his.

“You’re such a good girl.” He speaks, thumb pulling your lip down and his hands and the praise almost has your mind in pieces. Your heart pounds heavily in your chest, and you swear it almost pulls a whine out of you. His other hand moves to grab your stalled hands, still resting just before the waistband of his pants before he pulls them closer to him, pressing them against the button.

Your hands finally start moving again, unbuttoning his jeans. You pull down the zipper finally, the sound of it so loud in the small room. When you dip your hands into his underwear, his thumb presses into your lips and he swears, and you open your mouth for him, letting him rest his thumb against your tongue as you finally pull his cock out of his pants.

He feels heavy in your hand, your soft skin wrapped around his length and your eyes finally dart down, taking him all in before moving back to look at his eyes. His hand pulls you in, pulling you closer to him as you stroke him a few times, finally moving to press a small kiss against the tip, and his hand moves to brush a piece of your hair behind your ear before it rests on the top of your head.

He grunts when you finally take him into your mouth, the soft, wet heat pulling him in as your eyes watch his face. “Fuck,” the curse filters into the silent room, and he runs an encouraging hand through your hair. The musky smell of him filling your nose and only pushing you further down onto him. You pull back, letting him out of your mouth with a small pop before you move your hand and try to take him all into your mouth.

“That’s it, such a good girl for me…” His words are darker now, dripping from his tongue seductively and you start bobbing your head, his hand moving to thread into your hair before he moves it to pet your face. It’s intoxicating, his encouragement, the light touches, and you can’t help but whine with him in your mouth, legs rubbing together to search for some kind of relief.

His eyes close and his hand is resting on your chin now, cupping your face as you move, a light groan pushing itself past his lips. “That feels so good, sweetheart, you’re doing so good.” His praise is the only thing in your mind, urging you forward as you attempt to take all of him into your mouth. Your hands move to rest against his hips as his hand moves to grip the hair at the back of your head. Your nose pushes into him, and you gag around him before moving back and his hips move of his own accord, thrusting lightly into your mouth.

The tip hits the back of your throat, pulling a gag out of your mouth. You’re heavily out of practice, but you can’t help the way your hands pull at him, practically begging him to thrust back into your mouth, to use it however he needs to get off. It sends a shiver down your spine, the way his eyes go dark before he thrusts into your mouth again, hand tightening on the strands of hair he’s pulled into his grip. You moan as the tip presses heavy into the back of your throat and he snaps his hips back before plunging himself back into your mouth.

“You’re doing so good,” His words fall out of his mouth like honey as his hips thrust his cock deeper into your lips, and you finally pull one of your hands from his hips to unbutton your own jeans and push your own fingers into your wet heat and he practically growls as he watches you. “That pretty mouth of yours, taking me so well.”

You hold your gags back as he uses your mouth, his pants hitting hard against your chin, but you can’t find it in yourself to care. He could tear you apart and you would just thank him for it afterwards. You moan as he continues fucking into your mouth, the vibrations running along his cock and he lets out a moan. You rub at yourself lightly, the wet sounds your mouth is making only pushing you closer to your own release. Tears prick at the corner of your eyes, but it’s so fucking good that you don’t want him to stop.

“You’re gonna swallow it all, yeah?” His voice is husky when it leaves his mouth, hips faltering in his thrusts and you try your best to give him a nod, but the heavy hand holding your hair only allows for you to barely do so.

His hips stutter as praises fall from his lips, along with a low growl and you can feel when his pleasure finally comes to a peak and he releases into your mouth.

After a few moments, his hand comes to rest on your chin again, pulling you off of him and opening your mouth so he can look at the mess he had made against your tongue. You look at him through your lashes as you close your mouth and make a show of swallowing him down, and you finally speak, your voice coming out whiny and rough from the way he had abused your mouth, “Touch me, please, touch me, sir.” You lean back against your calves, hand against the floor, making a show of touching yourself.

He’s on the floor with you in record time, sitting on his knees and you can barely move your hand before his own is slipping into your pants, rubbing at your clit before he slips two fingers into you. He watches the way your face contorts as a moan escapes your lips at the stretch. “I think you’ve earned some attention, haven’t you?”

“Yes, sir.” Your words break as they leave your mouth, a heavy moan following them out as he curls his fingers inside of you, pressing hard against the spot that feels so fucking good that it has you falling apart. His palm presses against your clit as he continues to pull out of you and push back in.

“So wet for me…” His words send a shiver down you, and you whine, your hand moving to grip his arm as the pleasure takes over your entire form. “You like that, don’t you? Love my fingers in you.”

“Fuckin’ love it,” Your words mix with his before he can even get them out of his mouth, and your brain is mush, mumbling incoherent sounds as your other arm gives out as you lay back on the floor, letting him have his way with you, fingers pushed deep in your cunt.

“You look so pretty like that, all fucked out and I haven’t even fucked you yet,” His words are low, barely there, but they push you closer to your release. It’s nearly embarrassing how he has you laid out on his office floor, rough fingers fucking into you and his palm pushing you further and further, but you don’t care, would let him do it as much as he damn well pleases, using you however he wants.

Pleas and chants fall from your lips when you finally tumble over the edge with him whispering praises of how good of a girl you are for him, and your back nearly arches off of the ground when he speaks, “That’s it, fuck,” And his other hand moves to your face, wiping your hair out of your face as he pumps his fingers into you through your release.

He finally pulls his hands out of your pants, bringing fingers up to his mouth to taste you, and it only causes you to whine as you come down from your high. His hand is heavy on your cheek, thumb rubbing sweetly before he finally stands up, fixing himself in his pants.

There’s just something about being on the floor under him, watching as he fixes himself as if nothing had happened between you as you’re thoroughly spent under him. You pull yourself up onto your elbows, using them to move back to your knees and he leans over to you, hand finding its way back to your face, caressing the skin of your cheek before he speaks, “Clean yourself up, beautiful, and get back to your studies.” His words are back to normal and your eyes roam over his face. “I’ll see you in class tomorrow.” A small smirk plays on his lips as he moves to sit at his desk, watching as you fix yourself.

There’s a slight satisfied grin on his face as he watches you and you move over to your bag to pull out a hair tie to pull your hair up, forgoing even the attempt to try and get the tangles out of it before you pull it up into a bun to try to hide the mess as much as you can. You know your lips are swollen and the light layer of sweat against your skin is starting to dry disgustingly, but his eyes on you just make you feel like you're the most beautiful thing in the world.

You get up off the floor, moving to pull your bag over your shoulder and leave, but his hand catches your wrist, pulling you over to where he sits before he presses a small kiss to your lips. You hadn’t expected the tenderness out of him but it’s welcome, and you give him a small smile before you head for the door.

You think, just for a moment, that you’re gonna milk this agreement for as much enjoyment as possible.

[lilimalia]

2 જ⁀➴ yellows for betrayal, bastard boy

TEVYAT NEWS… golden boy ayato has finally hit the peak of every celebrity's career. a scandal! boy, is the world eating it up. except, maybe this time, the reporters are right...?

WARNINGS... none!

SUMMARY… Young, dumb, and broke, Y/n L/n has scaled the makeup community from half-assed make up tutorials and explorations… Somehow, she's landed herself a position of popularity, and has yet to understand how to continue building fame. When a famous actor, Ayato Kamisato, is in need of a last-minute makeup artist, and is forced to call her up…

On the other side of town, Ayato shuts off his phone to a close. Wiping the screen with the tuft of his sleeve as he slides it smoothly into his breast pocket.

The cool air of the Little Fontaine bristles his silky hair, the binds of his clean cut suit and turtleneck strain as he steps out the car. A small huff of distain as he makes way towards the building doors. His eyes narrowing as the sight of a giddy young girl drowned in light pink hair emerges.

“Hello! Are you Mr. Ayato? Oh whoops wrong question! I knew the moment you showed up! You’re here for the 4pm interview right? Lets get started shall we? My names Charlotte! I’ll be your reporter today! I aim for only the most credible and sensational stories so please be honest as can be!” Charlotte giggles, excitingly poking at her monocle as it rises.

In her excitement she gestures towards Ayato in a flurry of movements as she heads towards the golden lined glass doors of the building. Quick to grab at a notebook hanging somewhere in her clothes (where had it come from?) forcing Ayato to follow in awkward silence.

Turning around she jots down a note in her book as she asks,

“Hello? Excuse me Mr. Ayato? Could you smile for the Kamera please? I’ve just got to a get a cover photo for the columnists too!”

Before anything, he’s forced into an prim and proper smile, eyes closed in slyness as he adjusts the flaps of his suit, his cuffs links shine lightly as the flash of the camera reflects off it.

Click!

Peering over her Kamera she grins as she packs it away.

“Alright Mr. Ayato! Let’s get started! Ooh, I can’t wait to get in on this scoop!”

Before he has a say, she’s scampering off to the nearest mess hall to start. A long, drawn out breath, exhaling from his lips as he pinches his nose. Brows crinkling as he yawns.

Oh the cost of fame.

…

By the time he’s left the building, he swears the crisp air has gotten 10 degrees cooler. It’s chilly as he wraps his suit around him tighter. Cuff links silver against his white gloves.

A black tuxedo car rolls up, wheels churning to a stop. The tinted window, albeit very illegal, rolling down as ginger hair pops out.

“Ayato! How was the interview? Are you tired? Oh… Never mind! There’s warm congee at home! Ayaka fell asleep waiting for you… We better get home soon before she wakes up!”

“Oh? I shouldn’t keep her waiting then now. Right, let’s be quick with it please Thoma.”

As he steps into the passenger sheet, Thoma’s bright smile soothes the last of the late night nerves. His silly face is covered by a ghastly white mask, bangs pinned back in place by a Cinnamaroll hair clip -most likely Ayaka’s since he never could find his own-.

Looking down, he’s noticing a bundle of yellow gardenias. Curious, he plucks at the petal wilting on the edge.

“Oh… I forgot to tell you, I got those. Do you think they’ll like them? It’s been a while hasn’t it! I hope their doing alright….”

“Mm. I would hope so.” Ayato stares, the pools in his eyes plucking up the bouquet, longingly clutching them close to his chest. Grasping against them as he leans back, staring out into the city sky.

“Thoma…”

“Mm?” He replies, head tilting.

“Do you think… What I did was wrong?” He asks, almost uncertain.

There’s this look of flashing uncertainty in his eyes. Dancing off his stern expression as his bangs shelter it away from Thoma.

Thoma’s eyes don’t lift from the front of the steering wheel. His smile gone.

“What did you do?”

“You know better than to ask me to explain myself Thoma…”, a small tch leaving his chapped lips.

“I’m… Not sure sir.”

“Don’t- call me that Thoma.”

“Well, Si- Ayato… It takes more than a couple of monthly flowers to convince someone of an apology.”

“I just… Can’t seem to understand them.”

…

The car goes quiet, as Thoma pulls up into a lot. Stepping out into the cool air, pulling open Ayato’s door. Looming over the car’s roof.

He’s no longer paying attention, looking up at a the parents above.

An apartments balcony, hung with dried flowers, all uniquely yellow follows the gaze of the men.

Pale yellow, buds now wilted and shrunken, bounded by twine, hung over the wooden posts of the balcony, catching Ayato’s eye.

Passing the bouquet he was grappling on -when had he started hugging at it?- Ayato passes the flowers between the fingers of Thoma.

“An apology starts with understanding Yato’. And then it’s confrontation.”

“Hm. If only I could understand the way you think Thoma.”

“Trust me Ayato… I don’t think you’d want too”

“Life is so much harder on this side of the argument. I really can’t understand them like you do.”

“Lifes harder for everyone when you’re under fire. Think about them. About how you made them feel, and then we maybe we can talk about them on equal terms…” Thoma sighs, ruefully as he points the tip of the flowers towards Ayato. Still sitting cross-legged, legs stretched long as he leans back and stares.

“Life is harder too, if you can’t admit your in love.”

“Hmph.” Ayato glares, shaking his head in disgust as he slams the door in Thoma’s face

@lilimalia do not copy, repost (on other platforms), or plagiarize ANY of my content

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[lukin08]

Up In The Air Chapter 5

Kristanna Modern AU

Rated T

WC 2164

Summary: Tired of her nomad lifestyle, traveling nurse Anna Arendelle on a whim picks Pensacola Florida as her new town to try find a sense of home. Meanwhile, Navy Pilot Kristoff Bjorgman has accepted a dream position at the Naval station in the same town. After a chance encounter goes south, the two of them find their lives entwined, with neither of them all that happy about it!

Also Available on AO3

Previous Chapter

“I forgot to mention,” Cliff said as he jotted down a measurement.  “I stopped by Uncle Craig’s the other day.”

Kristoff looked up at his dad.  “How’s he doing?”

“Good.  The business is doing well. Your cousin coming on board has re-energized him and the business.”

“That’s good to hear.”

“Yeah.  He was asking me if you were still seeing the girl you were with last time you were at the bar.”

Kristoff froze.  He had done everything he could to block out the memory of that night a few months ago.

“Last time I was at the bar I was with Sven,” Kristoff said as uninterested as he could sound.  He kept his head down, focusing on the piece of tile he was laying.

“Craig said you were with someone after Sven left.  Something you want to tell me?”

“Nothing to tell.”  Kristoff chanced a glance at his dad and knew he wouldn’t get off that easy.  Reluctantly, he answered. “The bar was short staffed, so I leant a hand after Sven left.  There was a girl that spilt all her drinks.  I helped her with it and talked with her for a while after.  That’s it.”

Cliff went back to writing in his notebook.  “Funny.  Uncle Craig described it differently.”

“Yeah?  Tell Uncle Craig he has a bad memory.”

Cliff held up his hands when Kristoff shot him a look.  “Whoa, did I strike a nerve? I was just curious.”

“Dad, I left for El Centro right after Sven went home.  I’ve been gone for over two months.  When do you think I’d have the time to see anyone?  Assuming I’d even want to.”

“You’ve been back for two weeks.  Plenty of time.”

“Dad.  There isn’t anyone.  The end.”

“Got it.  No one.”  Cliff went to step out of the bathroom.  “I’m going to cut the rest of the tiles.  Try to get this group laid before I’m back.”

They made quick work of the rest of the bathroom floor.  Thankfully, Cliff didn’t press for more information and Kristoff pushed the memory of that night back out of his head.  Instead, he focused on being with his dad.  They hadn’t had this much time together since before Kristoff graduated from the Naval Academy and he was enjoying this.  He still wasn’t used to his parents being a ten-minute drive away.  The idea of being able to see them whenever he wanted felt strangely foreign to him.  

“I’ll do the grout when you’re away this weekend,” Cliff said as they put away the last of the supplies.   “It’s a good house.  Starting to shape up nicely.  It will be great for a family once you get all the work done.”

“Good time to sell it then.”

“You sure about that?”

“It’s just a house.  I’ll find somewhere else to live.”

“Well, hopefully you can enjoy it for a little bit before you do anything.”  

“I’ll cross that bridge when I get there.  It still needs a lot of work, and my schedule is busy, so it’s going to take a while.”

“Promise me you’ll at least take some things out of boxes.  It will be good for you to make this place feel more permanent.  Plus, its driving your mother crazy.  If you aren’t careful, one day you’re going to come home from a show and everything will be out.” 

“She wouldn’t do that?”  Kristoff looked at his dad. “Oh… yes, she really would.  Fine.  I promise.  One picture.”

Cliff patted Kristoff on the back.  “That’s the spirit.”

**********

“Lt. Cmdr. Bjorgman?”

Kristoff looked over to the entryway to his office and motioned for the volunteer coordinator for the Blue Angels to come in.

“What can I do for you today, Martinez?”

The petty officer stepped inside.  “I’ll only be a minute.  Just looking to fill in some information.  You’re from the area, right?”

“Yes.”  Kristoff drew out his answer, wondering where this was leading.

The petty officer checked his notes.  “And your father, small business owner.  Mother a teacher?”

Kristoff nodded.

“And you attended Gulf Breeze High School, correct?”

“Please don’t tell me you’re going to have me speak there.”

There was a small uptick to the corner of Martinez’s mouth.  “No promises.”

The petty officer went through a few more questions, then thanked Kristoff, got up and saluted him.  Right before walking out of the office, he mentioned he’d see Kristoff at the team brief.  The hint of a smile was back, and it was all it took.  Kristoff knew his fate was sealed. 

**********

“Bjorgman,” Boss Kesselring called out.  “I thought I told you to get a haircut.”

Kristoff bit back a groan.  He thought he a skirted by Kesselring noticing during the meeting.  “It’s regulation length, sir!”

Kesselring failed to hold back a small laugh as he shook his head.  “Humor me and go get it trimmed.”

“Right on it,” Kristoff smirked.

Kesselring tilted his head down and looked directly at Kristoff with a sternness that had earned him his captain rank.  “Today.  That’s an order.”

“Yes, sir,” Kristoff responded, setting his face to a neutral expression and sitting up as straight as he could.

“Ok, one last topic and we’ll be done for the day,” Boss Kesselring said as he picked up a stack of envelopes from the desk and held them up for the team to see.  “Your season’s outreach assignments.  It should be straight forward, but I’ll let Petty Officer Martinez discuss in more detail.”

Martinez entered the brief room as Boss Kesselring handed out the envelopes.  Kristoff opened his and sure enough, the first assignment listed was for his old high school.  He wondered what menacing joy Martinez had sticking him with that.  Luckily, it was just for the ROTC and sports program this year, not the entire school.  He skipped past the details of that brief, ignoring Martinez droning on and started scanning his other assignments.

**********

“How long are you going to be gone?” Camilla asked.  She was leaning over the nurse’s station as Anna scanned the screens on the wall that monitored all the patients’ vitals on the floor.

“The meeting is scheduled for an hour.  It’s only supposed to be introducing everyone and going over the goals for the committee.”

“I still don’t know why you want to be part of this.  Seems like a lot of time.”

Anna shrugged.  She didn’t really want to get into how this just felt right.  She wanted to do more around the hospital and community.  It was something she enjoyed but didn’t have the time to get involved when she was a traveling nurse.

“It sounds like a smart idea,” Sue chimed in.

Anna looked over at Sue.  “You really think so?”

“Of course.  The committee reports to the CEO.  There’s good visibility being on the committee when you’re looking to move up.”

“Me?”

“Yes you.  And don’t give me that face.  You’re a natural leader.”

Anna scoffed, making a note on the chart of one of the patients.  “I think you have me confused with my sister.”

“No, I’m talking about you.  I can see it.  You’re already a shift supervisor.  Head of the department makes sense for you at some point.  You’d be great in management someday too.”

“I like being a nurse.”

“Sure.  But that doesn’t mean you wouldn’t like doing that either.  Plus, selfishly, you’d be a hundred times better than anyone we have in management now.”

Anna got up from her stool at the station.  “I have half a mind to check to see if you’re delirious with a fever but thank you.”  She grabbed her notepad and a pen.  “Well, wish me luck then.  I can’t be late to my apparent first step at a promotion.”

One of the lab specialists Anna knew from being on patient interdisciplinary teams together caught up with her on the way over to the meeting.  They were also on the committee and Anna was glad to have someone she was familiar with in the group.  It also helped take her mind off Sue’s ridiculous comments.  Never mind that Anna did have ideas on how the department could improve and maybe some more thoughts on the nursing program at the hospital. But that could wait for another time because she was focused on the outreach committee and that was it.

Anna followed the lab specialist into the conference room, scanning more for open chairs around the large rectangular table than faces.  It was the clothes that caught her attention first, standing out from the scrubs, white coats and business attire.  When she looked at the face, Anna locked eyes with him, stopping in her tracks as she gasped.    

While only a split second, the shock was all over his face before he quickly set it back, looked down and pretended to write something on his notepad.  Luckily, no one else had noticed when Anna had froze.  She looked around and found a seat as far away from him as possible and scrambled over to it.  

Anna tried to keep herself busy until the meeting started, pretending to check her emails on her phone and introducing herself to the person next to her.  She gave in after a couple minutes and snuck a peek across the table, hoping she didn’t look too flustered.  Anna tried her best to set her face with a mix of disapproval, disgust and anger in case he was looking at her.  He wasn’t.  In fact, he was doing an excellent job at looking occupied, purposely not looking Anna’s way.  But the flush in his cheeks was a dead giveaway that he remembered exactly who she was.  

**********

“Which one are we talking about again?” Camilla asked.  

“The cute one,” Sue answered.

“That doesn’t help.”

“The blond.”

“Ahh, ok.  I couldn’t remember which one it was.  He was cute!”

“I know!”

“Neither one of you are helping.”  Anna was a ball of nervous energy and Sue and Camilla were not making the situation any better.  She practically ran out of the conference room when the meeting was over, taking the first set of stairs she could find to avoid having to be anywhere near Kris.  Or Kristoff as his name apparently really was.  Sue and Camilla were supposed to help her get out of this situation, but they were having entirely too much fun with the information Anna gave them.

“Wait,” Sue said.  “I thought he told you he was local.”

“He did.”

Sue chuckled.  “I guess technically he wasn’t lying.”

Camilla joined in.  “She didn’t get that far in the discussion to find out what he did.  Too busy kissing him to ask!” 

Both Camilla and Sue burst into a fit of giggles.  Anna’s head fell forward, stopping when her forehead met on the top of the station desk.  “Don’t remind me of that.  I’m glad this is amusing to you two.  Any other laughs you’d like at my expense?”

“Did he at least look good in the uniform?”

“Sue!”

“Ok, ok.  I’m sorry.  I wonder why the Navy would send a representative.  Did he say what he does?”

“No, but here.”  Anna lifted her head and found a set of papers.  “Everyone’s bios are there. “

Anna crossed her arms and chewed at her lower lip as Sue perused the paper.  

“Oh wow,” Sue said after a minute.

“That doesn’t sound good. What does it say?”

Sue cleared her throat and started to read aloud.  “Ascension welcomes Naval representative Lieutenant Commander Kristoff Bjorgman from NAS Pensacola.”

“Oooh an officer!” Camilla noted.  “Impressive.”  She nodded her head along with Sue.

Sue started again.  “Lt. Cmdr. Bjorgman has over ten years with the Navy… blah, blah, blah…will fill the position for the duration of his assignment at NAS…. blah, blah, blah…. currently serving his first year as a pilot with the Blue Angels demonstration team…. that,” Sue pointed her finger to the paper. “Is impressive.  And it explains why he’s on the committee.”

 “Explains what?”  Sue might as well have been speaking a foreign language.  Anna didn’t understand anything Sue had read.  

“He’s a Blue Angel.”

“A what?”

Camilla smacked Anna’s shoulder.  “You remember.  The blue planes!”

“I remember how loud they were.”

Sue went on to explain.  “The Blue Angels used to do a lot of PR at the hospital.  They must be looking to start that up again.  That’s good.  They are a hit with the patients.” 

“Great.  He’s a celebrity.”

Sue shook her head.  “Not him.  But the suit kind of is.”

“Oh, the suit!  I forgot about that!” Camilla exclaimed.  “Anna, was he wearing it?”

“He had on a normal plain tan uniform.  Why.”

Camilla had an evil grin on her face.  “Just wait.”

One of the monitors started beeping and all three women shot up to look at it. Anna was first to respond.  “I got this,” she said focusing on the job at hand and trying to remove any more thoughts of Kristoff Bjorgman out of her head.

[hybbart]

What's Tiny Tom's situation in this au? Like is he Jimmy's long lost kid or just another character or what?

He is one of the many children Sausage, Joel, and Lizzie have rescued. The same way the ranchers have inadvertently collected animals, their group's found children. None of the kids' bio parents are people they know, either former neighbours (in Hermes' case) or total strangers (in the rest's case).

Their group was living in a Homesense type store before this. Between the frequent zombies and not all the kids comprehending the danger, though, they ended up losing a kid. They needed to find somewhere safer out in the rurals, like how the ranchers were thinking. Possibly a community that could help them. Winter hit, though, and Hermes started getting sick, so a helpful run in with Scott later they found their way to the hospital.

(Also writing this reminded me that I wanted Bubbles in their group of survivors and forgot to jot it down, so he's also there lol. Lizzie's group is very unwieldy, which is why they didn't move sooner.)

For now, while they don't have much interaction, Tom is definitely Jimmy's favourite of the children. He thinks the others are too loud and energetic, and Joel and Grian both get annoying when Hermes in particular is there.

Tom is very obsessed with following the rules and helping out like The Sheriff, so he's a real easy kid comparatively. You just tell him The Sheriff brushes his teeth and he does it. It helps that the ranchers live on a ranch like the ones in the show in his little kid logic eyes. Plus, Tom is some type of cow-cat thing and Jimmy thinks it's adorable.

[artinandwritin]

I haven't slept in a day, and in that time i thought of some questions!

1. Myriad Island is made of several different groups, including hunters. Does anybody have a relation to the former warlords? Griselda, Ragnar, or the other guy (forgot his name lol)? Any one related to Johann or Viggo too? And if they do exist, do they hold any higher status, or would they need to prove themselves before such a thing?

2. Niv escapes Myriad island for a new life. Does anyone else get out and start a new path?

And 3, if it isn't too rude to ask, do you have any art advice? I'm kinda new at it, considering I'm only getting more serious now. Any advice on drawing heads/bodies and is any one method better than the other? Or is it more of a 'what fits for you' thing?

OH better go to sleep soon if youve been awake for that long!!!!

As for the answers!!

1. Some of the myriad tribe hunters do have some connections to the warlords, yeah!! Mostly the ones who joined after the warlords' defeat. There's not a lot of connections since the Myriad Tribe is a bit more isolated, so there isn't any relation to Johann or Viggo. They probably did hear some elusive tales about the tribe and thus might be wary of sudden strangers coming to assist them.

So, nope! The hunters of the myriad tribe aren't really held in higher regard. They aren't a talkative bunch over there, so i imagine there isn't a lot of room to talk about it either. The tales Niv and the others hear abt dragons and Hiccup and Berk and Berserker Island do come from mostly hunters, tho! Even if they aren't often believed by the youth haha

The Myriad Tribe is also mostly self sufficient, which makes connections with other tribes not too needed. They really strive to live as lonesome as possible after decades of crafting their assassin society

2. Yeah!! Per generation there are at least a few kids who escape somewhere during their teens. Sometimes, the Myriad Tribe tries to locate those kids to either drag them back or take them out so their existance remains in the elusive state it has been for a long time.

In Niv's generation, only his friend Olga escapes. She returns to the island of the Bog Burglars, as this is where she originated from. She escapes a bit later than Nivvie, a few or so years, so she's seen a bit more of the tribe than him and has a deeper understanding of how they work, since she was technically a part of the "adults" seeing as she left after her education was completed. When Niv and Olga near their mid-twenties, they start making plans to try and dismantle the Myriad Tribe and save the kids stuck there. Still figuring out the details on that haha

3. As for art advice!! Definately not rude to ask!! I'm currently not in a position to give an in depth tutorial as I'm in the train to college rn, but I'll try to make one with pictures for you when i can.

Heads and bodies are a tricky thing and i must say that its really a thing of knowing guidelines and practising a lot. There's also a thing about getting a feeling for it. Every artists draws bodies differently and with different notes to keep in their mind while drawing.

Personally, i have a very loose sketch style and try to first jot down the big shapes in the body. Think the position of the head, position of the torso and how it stands on the hips. Legs are difficult, seeing as they need to balance the body out. My biggest tip is to see the body as one big thing in the sketching stage, instead of seeing it as multiple small parts. Small parts can come later, but they won't fit in right if you don't have a solid base.

And of course, don't beat yourself up if drawing bodies doesnt work right away. I've been consistently drawing since i was 13-14 and believe me, I definately haven't mastered it completely either. Just try to draw a bit consistently and in the first few years, focus on drawing what you want and what makes you happy.

Do that afterward too btw lmao

And throw in some studies! Figure drawing, either from real life or from photos is a really good tool. I'm definately not against using references, but try not to trace everything directly over. This makes it more difficult for you to understand the underlying bone and muscle structures, as you only see a 2d mass instead of the 3d one you're trying to draw. If you do need to trace a photo reference, try to add in guidelines that make you understand those underlying structures.

I'll add some pictures of a way to do that in the tutorial post i'll make when i have some time, its pretty simple and will really help you in longer terms :D

I hope this way an okay answer!! My inbox is always open if there's more info needed on anything, including art advice. Art is definately a "what fits for you" thing, but when you keep trying, you'll probably develop those skills without even noticing

Ty sm for asking!!! These were so much fun to answer!!! <333

[dramamelon]

f;akfj;aewifj;alfka;elwifu

Just thought a little deeper about an interesting connection that flows through MTMTE.

Trailbreaker activates his forcefield, doesn't stop Kaon from getting to him.

Kaon kills Trailbreaker/cutter inside the forcefield.

Tarn kills Kaon.

Megatron steals Teebs' forcefield generator.

Megatron traps Tarn and the other surviving member of the DJD inside and kills them.

Seriously interesting and worthy of exploring in fic, I think. 🤔 Can't believe it didn't really strike the sort of chills it's giving me now before this.

(I needed to jot this down/share it somewhere before I forgot.)

[girlcarnivore]

Ok Jessica hcs hand em over

oh let’s get into it

though admittedly i’d be better versed to answer this once i have a better understanding of the lovejoy family as a whole. naturally jessica would be very influenced by her parents’ presence (or lack thereof, considering the whole boarding school thing), so i’ll probably come back and edit this as i learn more about them

but as of rn i’ve definitely got a few jessica thoughts up my sleeve to share 👁 even if she could’ve just been garnering pity, she said it herself that she acts out as a cry for attention and who’s to say that she’s totally lying about that... she likes when she gets people (particularly men) to do what she wants and that’s like textbook daddy issues, sooooo... even if her parents love her dearly and are proud of her accomplishments (and it’s obvious that they do), they also seem pretty in denial of her bad behavior and that could probably be a result from them wanting to maintain a good image for the town, as well as maybe them trying to deny the fact that they probably failed as parents somewhere along the line if their daughter turned out this terribly. whether jessica acting out came before or after their “out of sight, out of mind” style of parenting we will never know.

i could see jessica herself maintaining the good girl façade well into her teens bc it’s never really failed her, except in cases like lisa outing her or her getting expelled. rebelling via emotional manipulation, vandalism, theft, etc etc, becomes a form of catharsis from lack of parental supervision & guidance as well as religious resentment — i could see the lovejoys sending jessica to christian boarding schools and her feeling especially stifled and patronized by such orderly environments. academic expulsions become more and more common, but her parents continue to send her off anyway bc they don’t want to Deal w it firsthand and they can just talk their way into getting her into nice places. they’ve got a lot on their plate as it is. i bet she’s been to a christian correctional camp at least once, but her parents referred to it as summer camp when talking about it w others to preserve their family’s reputation. i could also see her going to juvie at some point but maybe that’s just me wanting to push her bad kid persona real far fhdkfbfkfn

as she gets older i could see her pushing the envelope in terms of the trouble she causes, doing stuff that maybe even bart would find Too Far, solely bc she wants to see if she can get away with it. people are never so quick to accuse her of anything bc she’s just so good at putting on an innocent face, and that’s where she gets the most thrills from. she likes having her cake (the affection of others) and eating it too (using others for her entertainment). when consequences finally catch up to her, she’ll just go to a new place or move onto a new person and start over. let’s just hope her reputation doesn’t precede her, though it most likely has by the time she’s like 18.

as for stuff like ... hobbies and interests.... color guard (evidenced by the baton twirling) and skateboarding are definitely included in terms of her hobbies. she seems relatively athletic (we saw her playing soccer), so maybe she also takes out her aggression on the soccer field or in gymnastics. i like to think she Enjoys the vintage cute schoolgirl chic aesthetics but with a bit of edge to it, like maybe combats boots or creepers with pleated skirts and cardigans. but i also associate the “heather chandler, cher horowitz” queen bee fashion sense to her, especially as she would get older. i like the dissonance of a well-groomed hyperfeminine daughter of a reverend doing something like, idk. busting up cars for fun. idk what she’d listen to but i have been listening to the entirety of electra heart by marina a LOT lately and it’s been giving me WAY too much jessica inspiration so make of that what you will

i also can’t help but have the smallest soft spot for bart and jessica to still have weird beef/lingering feelings towards each other even as they get older. one would think that childhood shenanigans are a thing of the past and easy to get over, but it’s clear to see that neither of them have really changed and in jessica’s case, she might have gotten worse. jessica can think bart is one of her favorite victims and have a pet fondness for him even if he Did get her in trouble, and bart can always have that begrudging “first girlfriend” sentiment towards her :’)

[i-cant-sing]

Could we get some more platonic yandere Natsuo content?

Alright.

You love hanging out with Natsuo, he's just so laid back and chill. And especially since he's usually able to convince Rei to let you out of the house the most. Your mother doesn't trust Dabi not to take you some place dangerous, nor does she trust Shotou because he's likely to go wherever you want, as long as you bring him with.

But Natsuo is smart, he's always concerned about your health so Rei knows he won't take you somewhere where'd you get hurt, and he'll bring you back before the curfew.

"Natsuooo~" you whined. "Stoppp. I'm alright!" You said pushing away the stethoscope. Rei had dropped you off at his apartment half hour ago and Natsuo was double checking your vitals were all okay.

He tutted before continuing to check your breathing. "Stop whining. Gosh you were so much fun when you were a kid. Never fussed once while I labelled you with the anatomy stickers." He smiled remembering how still you used to be as he put all the sticky notes on different parts of your body to memorise human anatomy. You're the reason he passed med school.

You rolled your eyes. "Yeah yeah. But we're getting late for the movie. Now come on!" You pouted.

Finally, he nodded at you and that was your signal to get ready to leave while he jotted down your vitals in his notebook.

"Natsuooo!"

"I'm coming. Don't be impatient." He said as he slipped on his shoes and when you were about to open the door, he pulled you back and put on his scarf around your neck, tying it snugly.

"I don't need it-"

"Its cold outside." He said tying it up, smiling when he saw you scowling. He pinched your nose before opening the door. "My lady."

"The sequel was better than the first movie." You looked at him dumbfounded.

"No it was not! Besides, the sequel wouldn't exist if there wasn't an amazing first movie!" You rolled your eyes. "I'm going to the bathroom while you place our order."

"Dine in?" You nodded at him before going to bathroom. On the way in, you saw a group of boys eyeing you but you ignored it, thinking it was your imagination.

When you'd done your business, you walked outta there, eyes catching Natsuo as his turn finally came to order. But suddenly, someone caught your wrist and pulled, making you stumble back.

You looked back and saw it was one of the guys who was looking at you before. You tried to pull your jand away, but his grip tightened painfully around your wrist making you flinch.

"Hey, babe. Where you going in a rush?" He teased, an ugly smile on his face as his friends laughed behind him.

"Let go, let go right now-"

"Or else what? You gonna cry-"

Your phone ringing suddenly cut him off, and he let you go with a smirk as you picked up the phone. It was Natsuo.

"Where are you?"

"I'm just coming out-" you yelped as the disgusting bastard smacked your behind as you scrambled away, tears brimming in your eyes as his friends howled in laughter behind you.

Natsuo knew something was wrong as soon as he saw you, and judging by the prick who winked at him while his friends laughed, he had a guess they were behind it.

"What happened? What's wrong?" He asked, his tone ever so soft. You shook your head. "I just don't feel well. Can we go home?" You asked, eyes cast towards your feet so that he couldn't look at the fear or the tears in them.

He nodded, pushing you towards the exit as he asked server to pack up the food to go. He paid and the two of you made your way towards the car.

"Oh crap." You looked at him confused. "What? What happened?"

Natsuo shook his head. "I forgot to bring ketchup. Wait here, I'll go grab them." He said before leaving you in the car.

He went back inside and saw one of the guys, the same one who'd winked at him, walk towards the bathroom.

Natsuo followed him inside, and as soon as he spotted him at the urinal, Natsuo yanked him back and threw him down on the floor, a hand wrapped around his throat, choking him.

"This should teach you not to touch the things that don't belong to you." Natsuo said, his eyes crazy as he grabbed the man's right hand before snapping it an ugly angle that had the man screaming, but it only came out strangled as Natsuo choked him.

Natsuo kept at it until he heard the bones snap, and then he let go, slamming a hand across the man's mouth to muffle his screams.

"Wait- are you a leftie or rightie?"

The man was too busy screaming in agony to answer him, so Natsuo broke his other hand too, this time in an even cleaner snap. It doesn't matter what the answer would've been, Natsuo wouldn't have believed him.

Suddenly, the door to the bathroom swung open and it was the guy's friends, who looked shocked as they saw their friend screaming against Natsuo's hand.

Immediately, two of them rushed towards Natsuo and pulled him off, but before either of them could've landed a hit on him, Natsuo gave them each a knock out punch across the head and they both fell to the ground unconscious. Unconscious, but alive.

The third friend who stood at the door, suddenly whipped his hand and it turned into a sharp knife.

A dangerous quirk, but nothing for Natsuo really.

As the man charged at him with his knife like hand, Natsuo swiftly dodged it before grabbing the man by his neck, elbowed his spine and then slammed the man's head against the tiled wall repeatedly until the man was unconscious.

Natsuo looked at the men who were unconscious and one was groaning in pain, and sighed before walking towards the sink to wash his hands.

He walked back to the car and saw you happily munching on your burger. It made him smile.

"You took long." You said as you sipped your cola. He nodded. "Yeah, they were out of ketchup."

"Oh. Well, you were taking too long so I ordered us some dessert-"

"You didn't pay, right?" Natsuo asked, narrowing his eyes at you. He didn't like you spending Enji's money (or anyone's money, but especially Enji's) when you were out with him.

You rolled your eyes. "No. I used your card. I already know the pin." You giggled, sticking your tongue out.

Natsuo pinched your nose. "Good."

He didn't want to ever use Enji's money.

But he was fine using Enji's skills and training to beat the shit out of anyone who messed with you.

I know I've said that Dabi is the unhinged one, but for the love of God, never get on Natsuo's bad side. You'll regret the day you were born.

[telomeke-bbs]

BAD BUDDY RERUN SEASON – EP.1 (NOTES ON THE REWATCH)

When GMMTV announced the rerun of BBS on channel GMM25 (every Sunday starting 4 Sept 2022, 8.30PM Bangkok time) I was initially blasé – surely every superfan's already rewatched it dozens of times (if not more), and we don't need an official rerun as an excuse to rewatch. 🤷‍♂️

Yeah, so as it turns out it's as good a reason as any to tune in again, and here I am once more obsessively rewatching. And as opposed to rewatching only my favorite bits over and over again, watching it in sequence does highlight things you missed before (because now we have so much more context), or that you noticed but then forgot because it's PatPran in the very next scene coming at you with more things to think about. 💖

So with the benefit of hindsight, this post is a list of (some of) these Ep.1 items, jotted down when they zapped electrically with meaning onscreen because our minds are now able to connect the circuits with other things elsewhere in the series. 😊

At Ep.1 [1I4] 2.33 we are told Pran has a special friendship with Wai – he's pretty nonchalant about Louis being beaten up (dismissing it with "He gets himself into a fight every day" at Ep.1 [1I4] 2.30), but when he hears that it's Wai who needs defending, Pran immediately changes his mind about getting involved.

(above) The light switch suddenly flicks on in Pran's eyes at Ep.1 [1I4] 2.33

This shows that Pran and Wai have a deeper connection that pre-dates the current time in their first year at university, and helps to explain why Pran was so persistent in trying to mend fences with Wai in Ep.9. The most likely explanation is that Wai was Pran's best friend (and likely protector too – see this analysis here) when Pran was exiled to boarding school – Pran sort of confirms this at Ep.1 [3I4] 7.21 when he tells Pat: "…Wai has been my close friend since before I transferred here." (If Pran and Wai were close friends before Pran was sent away, Pat would have known about it, so Pran must be referring to boarding school here.)

When Pran leaps to Wai's defense in the fight at Ep.1 [1I4] 3.56, his flying kick lands somewhere in the general vicinity of Pat's abdomen, and Pat falls clutching his ventral area in pain.

But then we are shown Pat clutching at an area to the left of his chest instead (Ep.1 [1I4] 4.00).

Pran re-entering his life is sending shockwaves right to Pat's heart. 💖 And we see him go from grimacing at the pain of the initial impact to a moment of strange calm, as though something has changed within him, before his fighting anger returns.

Their first unblinking looks at each other (after years apart) – are filled with recognition and perhaps incredulity, but not hatred or aggression (because they were never really enemies behind the scenes).

(above) Ep.1 [1I4] 4.14: Don't I know you?

When Pran and Pat conspire to dupe Wai into apologizing at Ep.1 [4/4] 1.04 and bring about peace between their friend groups, it is not something new – they were manufacturing their rivalry as kids (we know this because in Ep.12 we are shown that as kids they would come back home and then chat using their tin can phones, meaning their childhood enmity was all for show).

As Pat and Pran draw closer into each other's orbits in Ep.1 however, we see them bickering in their interactions but there is more prickliness on display from Pran than Pat. At Ep.1 [4/4] 3.28 he says "Things don't end well whenever I'm close to you" which Pat takes as a reference to Pran being sent away after their collaboration on the Christmas song contest – he mentions immediately "At least, no one gets transferred somewhere else this time." Pat possibly looks at Pran's constant pushing him away as fearfulness of being sent away again. But it goes deeper than that for Pran; we have to remember that throughout all of Ep.1, Pran is in love with Pat (and has been since high school). In every scene, now that he's back in contact with Pat, Pran is battling with himself not to let the slightest hint of that love show (so it's likely he's overcompensating, and coming across as standoffish and hostile).

Except for the flying kick at Ep.1 [1I4] 3.56, all physical contact between the two (totally non-sexual, so let's not get into issues of consent) is initiated by Pat, not by Pran. For example, he initiates the fist bump both times at Ep.1 [4/4] 1.38 and Ep.1 [4/4] 4.01.

Pat covers Pran's mouth when he goes to Pran's bedroom to negotiate calming the Archi-Engine enmity at Ep.1 [3I4] 6.01, and he puts his hand on Pran's mouth too when they hide from Korn, Mo and Chang (at Ep.1 [3I4] 1.13). These are about the only times when Pat initiates non-consensual contact, but both times it's to protect Pran, not for Pat's gratification or benefit in any way.

Pran also asks to be let out of the car after being rescued (at Ep.1 [3I4] 2.04). We see Pat open to closeness with Pran, but we see Pran retreating and avoiding.

There also are hints of what Ming and Dissaya had been doing to Pat and Pran since their childhood. When Pran says of Pat "Doesn't he look like a cheater like my mom said?" at Ep.1 [1I4] 5.24 we get a sense of the kind of drumming hysteria that Dissaya must have subjected Pran to every time Ming or his family were mentioned, so much so that "Ming the Cheater" (entirely justified) had somehow become conflated with "Pat the Cheater" (at odds with the overall portrayal of Pat, mostly devoid of malevolence even if he's capable of scheming behind the scenes – in cahoots with Pran most of the time, it should be said 😊).

When Pat confirms that he'd been voted Engine Class President, Ming says at Ep.1 [1I4] 12.26:

In this, we are given a glimpse of Ming's treatment of Pat – instead of congratulations or validation, his achievement is downplayed and another target is set, suggesting that Ming was always pushing Pat to do more, no matter what he'd managed to accomplish.

The flashback scene of Pa's near-drowning is significant because it shows us the moment that broke down barriers between Pat and Pran, and drew them into closeness behind the scenes. But there is also a heartwarming nugget of information about Pat and Pa as well, and it reveals the love that binds the chaotic Jindapat siblings. When Pat and Pa race to the lake on their bikes, Little Pat says "Who gets there first doesn't have to wash the dishes" (Ep.1 [3I4] 3.45) and Little Pa replies "I'm the only one who does it every day." This makes it clear that gender roles were fixed for them early on in Ming's traditional and patriarchal household. But there's more to the scene – we see that Pa is so far behind she has to call out to Pat to slow down (at Ep.1 [3I4] 3.43). And instead of racing ahead, Pat actually slows down and lets Pa win.

Little Pat isn't hung-up on the gender role thing (or at least he didn't start out that way), but out of sight of his father he is willing to wash the dishes this one time, willing to be beaten by a girl, just to make his baby sister happy. 💖

It's also interesting to see how Pat and Pran's childhood personalities contrast with what they grow into. In later episodes, we see that grown-up Pat is quite the man-of-action, always reaching out, showing initiative and pluck all the time (e.g., helping Pran with LogTech, pleading with Ajahn Pichai to let them participate in the Freshy Song contest, taking on the role of Riam in the Archi play, etc.). Pa's near-drowning was a key turning-point that galvanized their development, but interestingly their roles at the lake are the reverse of what we see later. When Little Pran rescues Pa from drowning at Ep.1 [3I4] 4.27, he gets shoved aside and Pat forgets to thank him.

This is paralleled in the scene where Pat rescues Pran from being beaten up by Korn, Mo and Chang, and Pran storms off without thanking Pat (Ep.1 [3I4] 2.26), which also highlights the reversal of their roles after childhood.

At the lake, it was Pran acting first, but with Pat frozen into inaction. In later episodes, it’s always Pat reaching out and acting first, with Pran hesitating and second-guessing himself. Something happened along the way to change them, and for Pran at least I think it was being sent away to boarding school. After Pa’s rescue at the lake, we see Pat’s energy directed outwards (possibly it always was, and at the lake he was just too stunned to react), but with Pran’s exile Pat’s energy to the world turned darker, as though he was raging to establish a connection with something or someone outside of himself to fill an emptiness within (e.g., when Korn refers to Pat’s uncontrollable anger at Ep.1 [1I4] 1.25, and when he whacks Mo upside the back of his head at Ep.1 [2/4] 5.05). Pran on the other hand directed his energies inward and closed in upon himself, putting up barriers to the outside world.

When Pran asks Pat to take his chat ID (Ep.1 [4/4] 6.52) – and due credit to Nanon's acting here – it's ostensibly so they can coordinate and keep their fighting friend groups apart. But remembering that even at this moment Pran is deeply in love with Pat and has been since high school – it's also clearly so that Pran can have a direct, private line of communication with Pat, whom he loves so much.

Pat is none the wiser, but for Pran this is a big thing, and is confirmed by his happy little micro-expressions starting from 8.41 as their theme of togetherness Our Song sparkles joyfully in the background (only we didn't know the significance of the music during the first time around watching this).

(above) Man quietly in love

Once Pran knows he's safely alone, the contrast with his previous demeanor is striking, as he smiles to himself while Pat walks away into the distance, and the smile doesn't leave his face.

This is telling, but what we also discover about their inner selves is surprising. If you were to ask who was the happier of the two throughout the series, almost everyone would say Pat. But we don't actually see many signs of happiness on display from Pat in Ep.1. And although Pran is mostly serious in this episode, when he's alone and thinks no one is watching, he allows little secret smiles of happiness to peek out – and it's his memories of Pat that trigger this.

For example, he smiles wistfully when he looks at the beat-up wristwatch Pat returned to him (Ep.1 [2/4] 4.38).

It's not a smile of great joy. It's a smile tinged with sadness that you allow yourself when something reminds you of happier times.

And Pran smiles the broadest after getting and saving Pat's chat ID in his phone. His heart is probably leaping here.

He also smiles at the end when he looks at the watch again at Ep.1 [4/4] 9.17, before he puts it on and smiles some more at 11.34, 11.44 and 12.01.

This is Pran in private: taking whatever little happiness he can get. It's not Pat fully in his life, it's not any kind of romantic relationship, but it's Pat back in his life after years of pining. And he allows himself the quiet happiness of enjoying just that.

When he's not alone, Pran does smile, but it often has a performative/communicative aspect:

He smiles to show Pat that their ploy to dupe their friends into ending the warfare seemed to be working (Ep.1 [4/4] 2.20);

He smiles at the dining table because it is in keeping with the atmosphere of gentility (Ep.1 [1I4] 11.48);

He smiles when walking with his friends at Ep.1 [2/4] 4.50, but this seemingly cheery moment is undercut with irony – Safe is pointing at Louis/Wai while saying "Are you making a serious face? Well it's not normal" (which is Google's translation of the Thai dialogue), and you can't help thinking that the opposite might just be true for Pran;

His smile takes on a derisive tone at the childishness of Pat's chat ID (Ep.1 [4/4] 8.04) and getting Pat to add him as a friend (Ep.1 [4/4] 8.23) – this is more of him tossing barbs at Pat, but the underlying reason for his smiles was probably his happiness at re-establishing contact with Pat.

The scene at the end of Ep.1, that shows Pat and Pran walking to their student apartments is a bit of an OMG reveal, saved up as a final flourish to end the episode. It's actually out of sequence – after Pat and Pran exchange their chat IDs outside the pharmacy, we see Pat leave to seek solace in a popsicle (a sign of his kid-at-heart nature, and also his need to look outside himself for validation/comfort). The scene then cuts to Pran in his student apartment, and we see him put on the watch that Pat returned to him in childhood (that is so precious to him he kept it stashed away for more than ten years and brought it with him when he moved out of the family home).

So at the end we see Pat walking down the corridor with his popsicle (Ep.1 [4/4] 12.07), and then after he disappears into his apartment, we see PRAN walking back (as he smiles to himself once more). This looks like them returning to their apartments after their pharmacy encounter – they're wearing the same clothes.

Maybe Pat took a long time to get that popsicle? And Pran went out again and what we're seeing is his second return to the apartment the same night? This is unlikely, because Pran is not wearing the watch.

So the final scene upsets the linear sequence, and is more a flashback meant to surprise us (emphasized by the peppy music) – by some strange twist of fate, they've ended up staying across from each other (after growing up in neighboring houses – that coincidence is analyzed here). It's been set up for revelatory impact – but it was already foreshadowed by Pa at Ep.1 [2/4] 2.33 when she said "Well, well. We better talk about you. You guys have been apart for three years but brought back to meet eventually. I call this 'soulmates.'"

This is also why I think there's a sense of the Red Thread of Fate entwining Pat and Pran. It's like they were meant to be together despite all the opposition swirling around them. 💖

[Afterpost Edit: for notes on the rewatch of other episodes, see these links here: Ep.2, Ep.3, Ep.4 and Ep.5. 😊]

[thebluesideofmyworld]

A Good Guy - A Solangelo One-Shot

Summary: Will might be a lot of things. And among those things, Will would dare to say that he’s a good guy. But when it came to Nico di Angelo, would he ever be good enough, though?

Word count: 3900 words || Rating: Teenage and Up Audiences || Read on AO3

Notes:

1. Based on the song "good guys" by LANY 2. My contribution for @after-everything-pjo-zine project. Check out other fics (each fic is accompanied by great fanart so you just HAVE to check it out) in the zine here.

***

Will might be a lot of things. And among those things, Will would dare to say that he’s a good guy. And he would proudly say that it’s because his family raised him to be one. His Mama made sure that he never forgot to say please, sorry and thank you, and his grandma taught him to respect people. Even though Apollo wasn’t around to be an ideal father as Will was growing up in Tennessee, his grandpa showed him how to be a Southern gentleman.

So yeah, he might come across as a young man who with a sassy attitude. But heck, Will knew that he was a good guy. And he’s proud of that.

But here’s the thing. Here’s a thing about being a good guy. Being a good guy might sound like it’s a good thing to do. But being a good guy also sometimes meant that you’re almost as invisible as a wallflower. Because even though you’re good, there were always be better guys. And one thing that Will learned about being a good guy? Good guys never win.

***

“It’s been almost two weeks, you know,” Will said as he kept his eyes at the monthly medical report that he (pretended) to be reading.

“Two weeks since what?” Kayla asked, but didn't bother to pretend that she's actually interested.

“Since Nico went for that quest, remember? Something about Persephone’s parrot or something?” Will said, still trying to keep his eyes at the notes. Because he knew that Kayla might still see the worry in Will’s eyes. (Sometimes it’s almost scary, how his siblings knew him too well).

“Oh? Really? Has it been two weeks yet?”

“Almost,” Will said, decided to leave the detail that it’s actually has been 11 days and since Nico had left the camp early in the morning and now it was almost dinner, it’s been almost twelve freaking days since Nico left the camp for that stupid quest.

“I mean, of course, it might be nothing but well, I thought it was supposed to be a short, simple quest?” Will continued. “Usually if it’s just this small quest, it never took him this long before. Usually it would just be like, three days, five, at the most, and like, a week if he took a detour to impulsively do something unnecessary, but never this long.”

Will lifted his head and turned to look at Kayla, who didn’t seem to share the same worry as Will. Her eyes were still fixed on the glossy pictures of the magazine that she was looking at. A non-committal hum coming from her was the only sign that she was (kind of) listening.

Will tried to focus on the lines of writing in front of him, but the letters were all jumbled and he couldn’t make himself try to read anything. His mind was too busy thinking about different reasons and scenarios of why Nico wasn’t back yet from the quest.

“Do you think I should ask Chiron about it? Probably he’s heard from Nico, y’know. Like, maybe something came up and I don’t know, maybe Chiron knew or maybe even Rachel got a vision or something, or-“

“Or you could have just contacted me, Solace. Pretty sure that it doesn't hurt to try IM me”

Will stood up and spun to face the direction where the voice was coming from. He did it so fast, he got dizzy because of it. It took him two seconds before his eyes could fully focus on Nico di Angelo, who was staring at him. His face looked nonchalant, but his eyes glinted with amusement.

“Uh, hey,” Will greeted, gripping the desk as he suddenly needed to get a hold of himself. “You’re back.”

Nico gave him a single nod, brushing away some strands of hair from covering his eyes. “Yep. I just got back.” He shrugged his shoulders before continuing. “Thought I’d drop by here before I report to Chiron.”

Will tightened his grip on the desk, trying his best to hold himself from closing the distance between him and Nico just to pull Nico into his arms.

“And uh… What brings you here?”

The emotional part of him wished that he was the reason why Nico came straight to the infirmary after the quest. But the rational part of him shushed him. That damned rational part of him told him that hey, it was him who wanted to see Nico, not the other way around.

Nico kept his eyes at Will and there was something in those dark eyes that Will couldn’t really put his fingers on.

“I thought you wanted me to have a check-up every time I got back from a quest?”

Of course.

Will tried to ease the dull pain in his heart by giving Nico a small smile. “Yeah. Of course. Need to make sure that you won’t fade into the shadows again, huh?” Will let out a nervous chuckle. “I mean, I am your doctor, and a doctor only wants the best for his patients.”

This time Nico stayed silent as he nodded. Will gestured to a nearby cot with his chin.

“Now, if you could just sit down over there, please?”

Still saying nothing, Nico strode to the cot and quickly sat there. Will took a deep breath, mentally telling himself to be professional, and let it out in a long exhale. He made his way to where Nico was waiting for him.

The check-up was a regular one. And there was nothing new about how touching Nico made stupid butterflies do some stupid dancing in his stomach. He ached to ask Nico questions about what happened in the quest and why it took so long. He wanted to know whether Nico ever thought of him while he was on the quest the way Will kept on thinking about him while he was away. He wanted to listen to Nico talk to him, with that slight accent that made his voice so melodious, almost like he was singing.

But it would only scare Nico away.

So he kept his eyes at the board where he jotted down the notes about Nico’s vitals.

“So, uhm… This quest was a bit longer than usual, huh?” Will asked, almost proud of himself that his voice sounded normal.

Nico hummed as he put his jacket back on. “Yeah, we had an unexpected encounter with some empousai. Luckily, David is unexpectedly good at fighting.”

At the mention of the name, Will lifted his head up. “David? You mean the new camper? That Athena kid?”

Nico nodded. “Yeah. For someone who never held a sword before, I have to say that I’m impressed.”

A strange, nauseating heat flared inside Will’s stomach. “Really?”

“Yup. In fact, I promised to give him an extra lesson in sword-fighting tomorrow.”

That strange heat swirled even more inside Will. He stretched his lips into a lame attempt to smile at Nico.

“Oh,” Will said. “Nice.”

“In one way, he strangely reminded me of Percy, you know? The way he held his sword.” And Nico continued talking for a while about that stupid new guy. Will listened, humming every now and then just to show Nico that he’s listening.

Half of his mind wished that the harpies would find that David kid to be a nice target for their dinner. The other half of his mind scowled at him for having that kind of evil wish.

“Okay. Everything looks good. Just make sure that you drink enough water,” Will said as he wrote the date and signed his name on the bottom part of the report.

“So I can go now?”

Will nodded. “Yeah, you’re free to go now,” he answered as he walked back to his desk to put the record in the folder.

“And you’re not even offering to walk me back to my Cabin like a good Southern gentleman?”

Will spun on his heel quickly. He stared at Nico with wide eyes, thinking that he might have been hallucinating.

“What?”

Nico snorted and slid down from the cot. “Never mind. I need to report to Chiron first anyway.”

Will blinked, and it took him a full two seconds before he had his voice again.

“Nico-“

But Nico was already one step away from the door. He stopped and looked at Will over his shoulder. The left tip of his lips curled up, just slightly, forming a ghost of a smile. He gave a two-finger salute to Will.

“I’ll see you around, Solace.”

Not waiting for Will to answer him, Nico stepped away. And just like that, he’s out of sight.

Will stared at the open door. There is this hollowness inside his heart that he couldn't explain. Like he just missed a chance.

He always thought that he’s a good guy. Or at least, he’s trying to.

But would he ever be good enough, though?

***

“What are you doing here?”

Lou Ellen’s voice startled Will.

“Me? Uh…” Will scrambled to pick up the book that he just dropped and showed it to Lou, like he was trying to prove something. “I was reading!”

Lou Ellen stared at him with a glint of amusement in her eyes as she gave Will the Look. The ‘don’t-give-me-bullshit’ Look.

“What, am I not allowed to read in peace?” Will said, a bit defensively.

“Hey, it’s cool dude,” Lou said. “In fact, it was nice to see you somewhere else aside from the infirmary,” she added.

Will relaxed a bit, going back to lean his back on the tree.

“I can see why you choose this spot. It’s much quieter than the infirmary on your busy days,” Lou said.

Will hummed.  His eyes flickered to the far left, to the clearing a few yards away, just for a split second before he opened his book.

“And the view from here is also… decent.”

Lou Ellen’s tone made Will quickly look up again at the daughter of Hecate. She’s now grinning at him, like she just figured something out.

“How long have you been spying on those two?” Lou asked, gesturing with her chin to two demigods in the clearing who seemed to just finished sparring.

Will gaped at her. He blinked and quickly shook his head. “What? No! I’ve told you, I was reading here!”

But Lou Ellen didn’t seem to care about Will’s reaction as she waved at the demigods in the clearing.

“Hey, Nico! David!”

Will’s eyes widened in horror this time as he turned his head around, only to see that Nico and the new Athena kid walked towards them.

“Lou!” he hissed in annoyance.

Lou Ellen just gave him a teasing smirk. “What?”

Will groaned and quickly stood up, his book abandoned on the grass as he unconsciously ran a hand over his wild locks.

“Hey,” Nico greeted. “What’s up?”

Nothing’s up aside from his heartbeat, Will would like to answer. But of course, he kept it to himself as he tried his best to school his face into a relaxed, nonchalant, I’m-just-chilling-here expression.

“Nothing much,” Lou Ellen shrugged her shoulders. “You two are sparring together here? Why? Is the arena too mainstream for you?”

The new Athena kid gave a half-smile as he brushed off some hair from covering his eyes. “It was my request, actually,” he said. “I just want to have a...” he waved his right in a vague circular motion, like trying to find the exact word to say. “A more… realistic view when fighting a monster?”

That didn’t really make sense to Will. But it seemed to be an acceptable reason for Lou Ellen as she nodded at him.

“And has Nico been a good teacher for you?” Lou Ellen asked.

Will didn’t miss the way Lou gave him a quick glance.

David’s half-smile turned into a full one. “He is!” He turned his head to Nico and smiled at him, like he was pleased at Nico. “Thanks for teaching me, Nico. You are very good at sword-fighting.”

Nico returned David’s smile with one of his small smiles. A smile that could have filled Will’s chest with warm air. But since he’s not at the receiving end of that smile, it turned Will’s chest into lead instead.

“Anytime. It was a pleasure.”

“You will teach me more, yes? And ah… We also need to talk more. About football.”

This was the first time for Will to really listen to David talking, and he couldn’t help but notice how David’s voice had quite an accent. Especially when he pronounced football, the way he stretched some syllables.

Nico’s face lit up. “Yeah! We should! I know that Cecil played football! Right?” His eyes darted from Will to Lou Ellen, like asking for confirmation.

“Cecil? He does. I can take you to talk to him. Come on,” Lou Ellen quickly pulled the sleeve of David’s shirt and led him away from the other two demigods.

Will watched the backs of Lou Ellen and David who were walking away from them. He could feel nervousness starting to creep in on him as their voices slowly faded away, as he realized that he’s now alone with Nico.

Not that he hated to be with Nico. It’s just… this wasn’t his plan. He wasn’t prepared. And Will hated it when things didn’t go as he planned. He hated it when he was unprepared.

“David played football,” Nico said just when David and Lou Ellen disappeared from their sight.

Will angled his neck to look at Nico. “And when you said football, did you mean soccer?”

“I mean football,” Nico answered, turning on his heels a little so now he was facing Will. “The real football.”

Will snorted and slid down to sit on the grass. “They’re the same,” he said, leaning his back on the tree.

Nico followed Will, sitting on the grass. “It will always be football for me,” he said. There was a melancholic tone lacing his voice. And it made Will wonder, maybe it’s something that Nico used to play. In the streets in Venice, when he was just a kid who had no idea that Greek gods and goddesses were real.

“We, David and I, we were talking about playing here. I mean, it would be great, you know? David said he played midfield. I’m usually,” Nico paused, but quickly continued. “I mean, I used to play as a striker. If we can connect well, that would be really cool.”

Will closed his eyes while his stomach churned with a strange, unpleasant feeling. So, not only was this David kid good in sword-fighting, he’s good in soccer too?

“Do you play too? I mean, you can be the goal keeper. I guess you would be great. I mean, you’re tall and it would be a great asset for a goalkeeper.”

Will huffed. Stuck between the goalposts while watching Nico and David scoring goals? Yeah. No, thank you.

“We’ll see about that,” Will said, still with his eyes closed.

For a while, none of them said anything. Will opened his eyes when he heard Nico sighed. He turned his head, watching Nico stand up. Nico brushed his pants, and gave Will a small smile.

“I’ll see you around, Solace.”

Will wondered why that smile looked a bit strained, but returned it anyway. “Yeah. I’ll see you around.”

He watched as Nico walked away.

Someone would be a good guy for Nico, he thought. And even though Will was a good guy, maybe he just wasn’t good enough. So of course, someone would be a good guy for Nico. Someone else. Not Will.

***

Will didn’t even know why he was here, standing awkwardly near the table where the food and drinks were.

Oh, yes. Because Cecil and Lou Ellen practically dragged him here, to this stupid Halloween party organized by the Aphrodite Cabin.

It’s not that Will disliked Halloween. And it wasn’t like he hated Halloween parties either. What he didn’t like, was seeing Nico talking with David at the other corner of the room. Just looking at the sight made a strange, nauseating fire flame inside of him.

“Pining over di Angelo again?” Lou Ellen nudged him on his shoulder.

“Yeah. How long are you going to act like this Will? Playing it cool while we all know how you wish you’re the one talking to di Angelo instead of David?” Cecil joined Lou Ellen in interrogating Will.

Will only rolled his eyes. “I don’t know what you guys are talking about,” he mumbled, and took another sip of Coke from his cup. He tried to watch the campers who were dancing in the middle of the floor. Some kids from the Hermes cabin somehow got a hold of speakers. And of course, with a little help from the Hephaestus kids, the party had a cool sound system that was now playing pop music.

Lou Ellen sighed. Will stole another glance at where Nico was standing. David was leaning a little to whisper something at Nico. The proximity between those two made it a little bit harder for Will to breathe. He wondered what it was that David was telling Nico. But then Nico turned his head to Will. And no matter how cliché it might sound, Will’s heart skipped a beat when their eyes met. Will quickly looked down to the floor.

Next to him, Lou Ellen clicked her tongue.

“You know what? I can’t take this anymore. It’s been MONTHS. This has got to end tonight,” she said. Ignoring Will’s protest, she grabbed Will’s wrist and pulled him along with her, walking towards Nico and David.

A few seconds later, Will was standing with a flustered face in front of Nico and David.

“Hey, Nico, David! You guys enjoying the party?”

David gave that half-smile again. “Ah, yes. The party is nice.” He angled his neck just a bit so now he was looking right at Will. The half-smile subtly transformed into a knowing smirk. “And you? You… You are the healer, yes? Will?”

Will forced himself to smile politely at David. “Yeah. That’s me.”

David gave a single nod. “Nico talked a lot about you. A lot of good things.”

Will blinked. His eyes darted to Nico, but the raven-haired boy looked away from him. Still, his cheeks were a dark shade of red.

“Is that Cecil over there? I think I want to talk to him,” David suddenly said as he pointed at Cecil with his chin. “Lou Ellen? Come with me?”

Lou Ellen grinned as she nodded and made a 90-degree turn on her heels. “Yeah, come on, David. Let's leave these two idiots.”

And just like that, they left Will again, standing awkwardly less than two feet away from Nico.

“Uh… I didn’t expect to see you here,” Will said.

Nico turned his head at Will, an eyebrow slightly raised up. “Oh? I thought you were the one saying that I need to work on my social skill.”

Will gave Nico a small smile. “Yeah. So. Good to see you here, then. I mean, for your social skills and all.”

Nico stared at Will. And there was just something behind those dark eyes. Something that Will couldn’t put into words. Something that made him unable to look away.

“Aren’t you going to ask me to dance, Solace?”

The question got Will off-guard. Of all the questions in the world, it’s probably the most unexpected one.

“Huh?”

Nico held his eyes at Will’s for another second, but then he looked away. “Never mind,” he said, half-mumbling. His cheeks blushed again into dark cherry color.

“But… do you want to, though?”

Nico’s head turned back to Will. “Want to do what?”

“Dance? Do you…want to?”

Nico bit his lower lip and he looked down for a second. When he looked up back at Will, his charcoal eyes were soft.

“Depends.”

“On what?”

“On who’s asking me to.”

Will’s heart started to jump around in his chest.

“What if it’s me asking you?”

The eyes that were staring back at him were now smiling.

“Then I guess, it depends on the song, then.”

Will’s heart was probably doing some crazy somersaults right now, but his lips curled up without him even thinking about it.

“Well, it’s my favorite song that they’re playing right now. I hope it suits you?” he asked, carefully offering his hand.

Nico’s smile was as soft as the look in his eyes. And the moment their fingertips touched, Will’s heart soared high and suddenly his chest was filled with warm, light air.

As Will led Nico to the floor, he thought about how long he has been wanting to do this, to hold Nico’s hand in his.

They swayed along with the music. Nico’s left hand felt perfect in his right hand. Will’s left hand rested on Nico’s hip and Will couldn’t care less about the other people dancing around them.

“Your dancing is better than your singing,” Nico said, a playful smile on his lips.

Will chuckled. “My grandma said a real Southern gentleman must know how to dance. And I remember my Mama dancing with me when I was a kid.”

“Your Mam raised you well, I have to say.”

Will hummed. “I’m a good mama’s boy, I can promise you that.”

“I can see that, Will. Everyone can see that.”

“See what?”

“That you’re a good guy.”

This time Will held his eyes at Nico. “I try to be,” he said. “But… Would I ever be good enough for you?”

Nico huffed. “And you said I was the dense one.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean…” Nico stopped, but his feet kept on moving. He sighed. “Gods, do I really have to spell it out to you?” He asked, sounding exasperated as he looked away from Will.

Hope bloomed inside of Will and he grinned and oh, how he wanted to shout and laugh. He took his hand off Nico’s hip so he could gently cup Nico’s cheek, guiding him to face him back.

“Do you mean you like me?” Will asked.

“Well, do you like me?”

Will chuckled and he could feel a stupid smile creeping in. “Why do you even have to ask?”

Nico shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know. Because you’re nice to me but you’re also nice to everyone? Because you don’t seem to care even if I talk about someone else? Because you…” Nico stopped again and shook his head. “I don’t know. Maybe because I just…don’t know?”

Will squeezed Nico’s hand just a bit tighter. “I was just… I was just afraid that I’m not good enough for you.”

Nico rolled his eyes. But his lips twitched, like he tried to hold back a smile.

“You’re a good guy, Will. You’re a good guy to everyone. But sometimes I hope that you can be my good guy.”

It’s like a thousand birds were singing inside of Will now as he felt like he was floating in this bubble of happiness.

“Then I’ll be yours, Death Boy.”

Will wrapped his arms around Nico, and pulled him into his embrace.

“I’ll be your good guy, then. I’ll be your everything.”

Nico pulled himself a little away from Will. He looked up at Will and the light in his eyes was like the most beautiful star in a dark night.

“Everything?”

“Everything. Anything you need.”

***

Additional Author's Notes: Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed it :). Reblogs, replies or any other feedbacks are much appreciated. Also please don't forget to check out the zine!!!

[justcourttee]

The Ice Queen

So, @long-lost-peace was messaging me and they came up with this brilliant idea that Marinette leaves Paris and transfers to the school that Felix attends. When the class visits one day, they’re shocked to see the Marinette they once knew is gone, and in her place is an Ice Queen. 

This is Felinette and my best attempt at doing their amazing idea justice.

Marinette had no idea how she had gotten there.

Well, that was a lie. In all honesty, it had happened so fast. The minute she told her parents that she was applying for the design program in a London school, they were more than happy to help her pack weeks before she even received her acceptance letter. They knew she needed a break from the school and what better way than throwing herself into something she loved?

The train ride was only two hours and sixteen minutes.

Her parents helped her set up her new room in the campus suites and exchanged tearful goodbyes before she found herself alone soon enough. She took it upon herself to explore the new city, snapping pictures and jotting down all of her quick bursts of inspiration that came from the beauty of the sights. When she had returned, she found a small brunette rummaging through her closet as if it were her own.

“Uhm, I’m sorry, but can I help you with something?”

The girl didn’t even bother responding as she pulled out a top, holding it against herself for a moment before shaking her head, placing it back in the closet. Marinette looked down at her purse where Tikki’s head was peeking out in curiosity, their head cocked to side much like how Marinette looked.

“Well, uhm, I’m Marinette Dupain-Cheng and I am assuming you’re my roommate?”

The girl finally looked up from her rummaging, offering Marinette a half cocked smile.

“Ah, you’ve finally arrived. You’re the new fashion major right? Do you think you could help me pick out an outfit that would impress even the most stone hearted person?”

Marinette opened her mouth but shut it just as quickly as the girl pulled out yet another one of her tops.

“Is that a no fashion major?”

Marinette shook her head, trying to regain her voice.

“I’m sorry but could you stop going through my clothes?”

The girl shrugged before stepping backwards, taking a seat on the edge of Marinette’s bed. “My name’s Kayla, guess I kind of forgot that. Anyways, I need your help, new girl. Felix is coming to the party tonight and he’ll never notice me if I keep dressing in the same drab. I need something new and exciting, can you manage that?”

“Kayla! I thought we were going to greet her together!”

Marinette spun around to face the girl that stood in her doorway pouting. Her head was swimming as two girl’s bickered about her arrival, completely oblivious to the shade of pale she had turned.

“-you are just so rude! I mean going through her clothes without her permission? A woman’s closest is an extension of their soul and, hey, Marinette, are you alright?”

Marinette’s eyes came back into focus as she loosened the tight grip she had on her purse. She managed a small nod, before lowering herself into the chair by her desk.

“Okay good, omg, where are my manners? I’m Delilah! And I’m sure you’ve already met Kayla, I’m so sorry in advance, my friend has no personal boundaries and refuses to learn them.”

Kayla simply shrugged from her spot on Marinette’s bed, her eyes still scanning her closet as if willing the perfect piece to fall into her lap.

“It’s nice to meet you both, I’m sorry it’s just, it’s my first day here and-”

“And that’s perfectly okay! You take all the time you need to get ready for the party tonight and if you need any help at all, Kayla and I are right down the hall! Let’s meet in the living room at 7 so that we can all go together kk? Great!”

Without another word, Delilah gathered Kayla’s arm pulling the girl out the door before she could protest, slamming it shut behind them. Marinette waited a moment to be sure no one was going to pop back in before she opened her purse, allowing Tikki to fly out.

“Oh my, they were very lively huh?”

Marinette simply shook her head, a tired smile gracing her face.

“Tikki, I think I need a sympathy nap for Delilah. I mean, she talks so fast and in such an upbeat manner, I don’t know how she can keep that up for hours on end.”

The kwami chuckled, their eyes scanning over Marinette’s room.

“Wow Mari, this room is huge! You can totally keep up like three projects just in that corner alone!”

“I know Tikki! This school takes their majors very seriously. If I remember right, Delilah is a gymnastics major and Kayla is a business one. I wonder how their rooms look.”

“Well, why don’t you go find out?”

Marinette shook her head as she stood, taking the few steps before collapsing face first on her bed.

“Nap first. If I’m going to some party tonight, I need this time to recharge.”

Tikki rolled their eyes at Marinette, opening their mouth to sass the young girl, but closing it instead upon seeing their chosen one already knocked out.

“Sweet dreams Marinette.” . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Delilah wasn’t joking.

She was already standing in the living room at 6:50, her foot tapping away as she waited for her roommates to join her. She practically had a heart attack when Kayla was one minute late, dragging both girls by their hands down the stairs in full lecture mode.

“-and we’re gonna miss him arriving! You know he always is so over the top!”

Marinette had no idea who this ‘him’ was, but it was beyond obvious that both girls were crushing hard. She tried to remember the name Kayla slipped earlier, but her brain refused to provide it to her. She simply listened intently to their many stories, biding her time until she could meet the mysterious him.

“Ah, we’re here. Quick, ladies, how does my hair look? You know Felix is a perfectionist, he can’t have his future wife with one strand of hair out of place.”

Kayla muffled her laughter with her hand as she helped Delilah brush a few strands behind her ear.

“You know Delilah, he can only be your future husband if he chooses you over me right?”

The girl’s face morphed into one of mock hurt as she placed her hand dramatically over her chest. Marinette couldn’t focus on their interaction though. Instead her head was somewhere else.

They couldn’t mean Felix Graham de Vanily right? She wasn’t that unlucky to transfer out of one school that housed Lila into another that housed Felix right?

“Omg, there he is!” Delilah’s squeal broke her thoughts as Marinette turned slowly to where both girl’s gazes sat. Instantly, she felt her heart stop.

“Hi Felix! Have you met Marinette yet? She’s my new roommate!”

Marinette’s face reddened as she tried to back step and hid behind Kayla, but both girl’s were insistent on showing her off. She saw Felix’s eyes narrow in on her, only confirming what she already knew.

“Marinette right? Would you care for a dance?”

It was her turn to narrow her eyes. What did he have planned? Felix was no gentleman offering the new girl a good time, no, he was a lying and deceitful scoundrel who couldn’t be trusted and-

“She would love to!” She felt Delilah’s hands on her back, pushing her into him. Her panicked eyes shot back to where the two girls stood giving her thumbs up. If only they knew.

Felix led her to the middle of the floor, his hand resting at the base of her back as they gently swayed to the music.

“Dupain-Cheng, tell me, do you desire my cousin so much that you had to move to London in hopes of the distance making him long for you? It’s quite the elaborate plan.”

“Excuse me? Exactly how pathetic do you think I am?”

“Do you want me to honestly answer that question?”

Marinette cut her eyes to the boy’s smug face, every fiber in her begging her to smack that look off.

“Besides, I don’t even like Adrien any more. He chose what was more important to him and in the end, that wasn’t me.”

Felix cocked his head to the side as if seeing the girl in a new light.

“So you’re done with your sorry crush on my cousin?”

“Isn’t that what I just said?”

Felix’s smirk grew with every passing moment and honestly? It was starting to freak her out.

“Can you please wipe that stupid look off of your face?”

He didn’t respond. Instead, he spun her out, drawing her in so that her back was pressed against his chest. His ear dropped down to her ear as her breath hitched in her throat.

“Let me tell you a little secret Marinette. You care too much. Try caring less, it would be a much more fitting look.”

As the song came to an end, Felix released her hand, offering her a mock bow before slipping into the crowd, leaving a flustered Marinette replaying his words on repeat in her head.

It would be a much more fitting look.

She wanted to pull her hair out in frustration. This was only her first night and he was already under her skin. In that moment, Marinette made up her mind. She would avoid speaking to Felix Graham de Vanily for the rest of her time here in London, even if it was the last thing she did. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Unfortunately, her vow didn’t even last one day.

Her roommates swooned over that first night, insisting that she was coming to every hangout as the newest contender for Felix’s affection. She tried to brush it off, tell them she wasn’t interested, but it was useless.

“You two had so much passion when you were dancing, the looks on both your faces, ah, beautiful. Even you can’t deny that he’s pretty!”

Delilah’s words set her fate in stone as she began seeing Felix regularly from lunch dates to movie nights to days out on the town. Their friend group welcomed Marinette with open arms, ready to drag her off at every chance.

When it came to their outings, she almost could attempt to ignore Felix’s smirks and sly comments all thrown in her direction. Her new friends helped her outgrow her fears and insecurities, Felix helped her become better at ignoring and dishing out insults. By the end of her first year in London, Marinette felt better about herself then she had in years.

At least until her teacher pulled her aside delivering the worst news she could’ve possibly imagined.

“Marinette! Your old class from Paris is coming to visit next week and we were wondering if you could translate for them. They’ll be touring our institute before continuing on with the tour of the city and to my knowledge, you are our only student who speaks fluently in both French and English.”

Marinette’s head was shaking before the teacher could even finish her sentence.

She didn’t want to see them again, she had finally gotten to the point in her life where all the damage they had done was gone. It was like a terrible dream, a relapse into her old self. She couldn’t do it, she-

A gentle hand settled on her shoulder bringing her back down from her near panic attack. Sheepishly, she peeked up to where Felix stood, his face unreadable.

“Mrs. James, I would like to translate as well. My cousin is in that class and taught me French quite some time ago. Between the two of us, Marinette and I can take on this assignment.”

Marinette felt her heart skip a beat as she focused in on where his hand still sat perched on her shoulder. What was that feeling of warmth slowly coursing it’s way through her body? No, absolutely not, it couldn’t be.

She watched as the teacher walked away leaving the two of them in an abandoned hallway, a silence filling the space. Slowly, Felix withdrew his hand before shoving it into his pocket, taking off in his usual brisk pace.

Marinette stood dumb founded in her spot, unsure whether to follow when his voice snapped her to attention.

“Come on Dupain-Cheng, we haven’t got all day.”

She shook off her nerves before practically jogging to catch up to the blonde. Falling in line with his pace, she kept her eyes straight forward, even when she felt his fingers interlock with hers. She swallowed hard, willing her heart to stop somersaulting through her body.

“We’re going to face them together okay? We’re going to show them the ice queen that you have grown to be.”

Marinette couldn’t trust herself to speak, instead choosing to nod in agreement.

“Good, after all, this new you is a much more fitting look.” . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . A week came and went and Marinette found herself in front of the school building swallowing her nerves and steadying her face.

Taking Felix’s advice, she ditched her usual pigtails and outfit for a much edgier look complete with a high ponytail and more make up than she cared for. At first, she wanted to argue saying a new look could do nothing for her, but as Kayla finished placing the scarlet red on her lips, Marinette couldn’t stop staring at herself in the mirror.

The girl looking back was beautiful, confident, and most importantly cold. A befitting look for her new title as Ice Queen.

When the double decker pulled to a stop in front of the school, Marinette’s nerves began to swallow her. She wanted to ditch her position, trust that Felix could handle them and hide in her suite until she was sure they were gone. But a certain hand on her shoulder calmed her every frayed nerve as she straightened her posture, willing her face to remain as unexpressive as possible.

As the first of them began to unload, Felix leaned in, his breath tickling her ear.

“After this, they won’t forget you Marinette.”

He straightened back up, his small smile fading back into his own expressionless gaze.

Alya was the first to recognize her, her face contorting into a look of horror as she shook Nino’s shoulder, pointing him in Marinette’s direction. Slowly but surely, the word spread through the class the Marinette was here, waves of emotion crashing down.

Her old friend began to make her way toward where Marinette stood, but Madame Bustier reigned her back in, allowing the guide to welcome the class through Felix’s translation. Marinette scanned the crowd looking for one face in particular but alas she was nowhere to be found.

Adrien was though. Front and center, his mouth agape as he stared at Marinette’s new look. Through the day, Marinette could’ve sworn she counted over a dozen flies that he caught, but that didn’t stop from his hanging jaw.

It was easy work, translating. She would speak as nonchalantly as she could, never making eye contact and always looking as bored as she could. The waves of agitation spilling from Alya almost made her break character several times, but she kept reminding herself that her and Felix could laugh later, now was for taking a stand.

“Alright everyone, take an hour of free time but please, meet back in front of the school at 3:00 on the dot.”

This was the time Marinette had dreaded. It was easy to fake her new persona when there was nobody to face directly, but this was a different story.

As she thought, Alya, Nino, and Adrien made a beeline for her the minute Madame Bustier had dismissed them. Marinette turned around as if she couldn’t see them, hoping she could outwalk them, but instead she came face to face with a familiar chest.

“A queen doesn’t run Dupain-Cheng. They take a stand and fight. Now turn around, chin up, and let them have it.”

Marinette let out a slow breath before she turned back, straightening her posture and narrowing her eyes. Alya collided with her first, crushing her in a hug that Marinette didn’t bother to return.

“Girl we are so sorry, Adrien finally fessed up to us that Lila was lying a month ago and we all tried to reach out to apologize but it said your phone was disconnected-”

“That’s because it was. What makes you think I would want to hear from you now?”

Alya’s mouth blubbered like a fish out of water as she tried to gather her words together.

“Because dudette! We’re friends! And we needed you to know that we’re sorry and that you can come back to school!”

Marinette examined her nails lazily, slightly shaking her head.

“Oh Nino, we haven’t been friends for a while. In fact, I’m only here today because I was asked to translate.”

It was Nino’s turn to gape as he and Alya shared confused looks.

“Marinette, have you spending time with Felix? You know he’s not the best influence, look at how cold he’s made you.”

Adrien attempted to grab her hand, but Marinette pulled it just out of his distance. She felt the fury building up inside of her wanting to explode. She felt an arm fall over her shoulders, lightly pulling her into their side. She risked a small look up at Felix’s face that remained expressionless as he casually pushed Adrien back.

“Marinette! Don’t tell me you’re dating my cousin! I mean, he’s not even your type! I-”

He paused at the sight of Marinette’s playful smile. His eyes widened as she reached up, her hand gently grasping Felix’s jaw, pulling his lips down into hers. The kiss was short, but she swore she felt her head spinning. She was almost positive she would have fainted if he wasn’t already supporting her with his arm.

“But, Marinette, you’re my- we’re uhm-, you and me are friends! You can date your friends’ cousin!”

Marinette felt a smirk pull at her lips at the sight of her former friend’s distress.

“Watch me.”

She turned, ready to walk away, Felix’s arm still round her shoulder, but something stopped her in her tracks. Turning her head back slightly, she managed to make eye contact with the trio, their faces the perfect mixture of regret and confusion.

“Just to clarify. Felix didn’t make me cold, you all did when you turned your backs on me when I needed you the most. A frozen heart doesn’t happen overnight” she paused, her eyes meeting Felix’s, a warmth spreading through her at the sight of pride shining, all for her. “But it can be thawed in one.”

And without another look, Marinette took off, relishing in the feeling of being at her boyfriend’s side.

“Well done Dupain-Cheng, I would be kidding myself if I didn’t admit that I prefer this version of you than the stumbling girl I met years ago.”

Marinette let out a small laugh as she stood on her tiptoes, placing a quick peck to Felix’s now red face.

“I prefer this me too, and lucky for the both of us, the Ice Queen is here to stay.”

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[thetriggeredhappy]

(I love all of your writings) one of Scout's voice lines literally broke my heart. The one in the Birthday mode which said that no one came to his birthday :"((( the fact that he called everyone his best friends make it sadder. Can you write about that a little bit. I know that you have written about his birthday before but can you do one more pleaseeeeeee

birthday boy time

(warnings for alcohol mention, mention of violence, and injury)

-

“Happy birthday, lad,” Demo greeted, clapping him on the shoulder as he passed by. Scout lit up, calling back a greeting in return.

Call him a sap, but he hadn’t quite given up on having fun birthdays yet. He’d heard it a hundred times from most of the rest of the team, that you stop focusing so much on your birthday when you get older, but not this guy. Scout was determined to actually have a nice birthday.

That being said, he knew by then, after those first few years working with the team, that they had a bit of a history of not necessarily being 100% on board with doing a whole thing purely because someone was a year older, and he mostly settled for bugging some of the team into going out for drinks or ordering a bunch of pizza and playing board games, stuff like that. A hundred times more low-key than what he’d do if they were in Boston, but hey, he took what he could get, and it usually ruled anyways.

To be honest, he didn’t even really have plans that year. He’d said as much when he was asked earlier that week. It was the middle of the week, not all that close to the weekend, so going out with everyone was pretty much off the table, as was getting drunk considering they all had work the day after. He was gonna head into town and get himself a gift, that was most of his plan, maybe hang out with everyone later on too. He’d been saving his money for a while, a just-in-case fund that he’d been working on for a few years, a luxury he didn’t have growing up, and didn’t tend to spend much money on himself outside of snack food and Bonk and sometimes comic books or little things like that. It would be nice to get himself something he really liked. That alone was plenty of excitement. Not an adrenaline kind, just a regular, nice sort of thing.

Overall, he was honestly just thrilled that apparently everyone actually remembered this year, greeted all morning by similar casual “hey, happy birthday”s, including a particularly excited one from Pyro, who hugged him and spun him in a few circles outright. He had plenty of time next year to do some really sick birthday stuff, but overall, he was just gonna chill out, treat himself for once, and relax.

-

“Alright everyone,” the Engineer said grimly, half an hour previously, casting a look around the room. “Here’s the plan.”

The team minus their fastest member were all gathered around the debriefing table, and this time, rather than Miss Pauling with official orders or Soldier with the latest new strategy, it was the Engineer standing up front holding a piece of chalk.

“We’ve been over this, Toymaker, twice weekly all month,” Demo drawled, rolling his eye.

“I know that, but this is important,” he stressed.

“It is true,” Heavy rumbled, nodding solemnly. “This is big deal.”

“We can’t afford to let this one get mucked up considering our history,” the Engineer said firmly. “Every year it’s somethin’. This year we aren’t taking any chances, especially after that catastrophe last year.”

A groan from the team as they collectively remembered. A nod from the Engineer.

“We’re lucky Firebug was the one to ask why Scout was in the kitchen combing the cabinets and not one of us, otherwise he would’ve found out for sure. If he knew we all forgot his birthday, it would crush him,” he said emphatically. The team looked embarrassed as a whole, while Pyro looked particularly mortified. “And we can’t just buy the damn kid a few pizzas and hand him alcohol like that was the plan again this year.”

“Fortunately for all of you, I’ve been so generous as to look into a few things,” Spy piped in, pausing to take a drag from his cigarette.

“As if you won’t take any excuse to snoop,” Sniper mumbled, and was glared at.

“I resent that remark,” Spy scoffed. “Regardless. I happen to know that we’re in luck, and that Scout is planning to go into town for a short period of time this afternoon. For what purpose, I’m not sure. But it should mean we have plenty of time to set everything up.”

“I trust you all have gifts ready?” Medic asked, and received a general murmur of agreement, and made a check on the paper he had attached to a clipboard. “Ja, ja, that is good. Herr Demoman, Pyro, you are done with your baking?”

“Cake is baked, iced, and decorated,” Demo nodded, Pyro giving a thumbs up of agreement.

“Soldier, how are decorations?”

“Acquired and prepared for deployment!” Soldier barked, holding up a hand in salute.

“Doc, Heavy, you two were meant to run interference,” the Engineer said, and the two nodded. “With that not a worry, how about you help with the cooking and decorating?”

“Heavy can do this,” Heavy agreed, and Medic nodded as well, jotting down a few notes on his clipboard.

“And the snake was gonna help with anything that went wrong, and Sniper, you were gonna help with headed into town for anything we needed last minute,” the Engineer said, and received nods from the two of them.

“Do we need anything so far?” Sniper asked.

“No, we’re fine for now. And I’ve got my own setup handled,” the Engineer said, and nodded a few times to himself. “Alright. Sounds like we’re golden.”

“Ja, very good. Herr Spy, would you keep an eye on Scout and let the rest of us know when we can begin getting ready?” Medic asked.

“Obviously,” Spy said.

“Alright. Now go on, get, he’ll be wondering why we’re all running late, act natural,” the Engineer said, shooing them all from the conference room.

-

Later that day after battle was over, Spy dispersed news not long later that Scout had gotten changed into civvie clothes and gone into town on his bike, and they all leapt into action. Within half an hour, the decorations were ready, streamers and balloons in every direction, the table unfolded from their storage (only used when they needed to seat the entire team, which wasn’t often) and was set up with the cake, ready to have candles lit, the presents were stacked neatly, the Engineer had set up the new sound system he’d been working on (put into crunch time to have ready for the occasion), everything was set up and perfect. The only thing they still needed was Scout.

They settled in to wait, knowing town was a good twenty minutes away, thirty if he was headed to the better one. By the time he found everyone, Spy said that it had been about ten minutes, and they took around thirty to set everything up, meaning that Scout would probably be at least another ten minutes, maybe as much as half an hour. Spy would keep his eyes open and warn them when he came back, but in the meantime, they could relax while they waited.

In the meantime, Soldier and Demo attempted a few ‘finishing touches’ (putting party hats on his more docile raccoons and setting out some firecrackers and sparklers, respectively), and some of the other members of the team sat to play cards for a bit. Pyro, easily the most antsy, burned their way through the box of matches that sat waiting next to the cake one by one and started idly playing with their lighter when they ran out, occasionally lighting some of the extra candles.

Half an hour came and went. Forty minutes. Fifty. An hour.

They asked Spy if he had any word yet. The answer was no, and the visual of a few cigarette butts littered around Spy’s feet and a scowl.

The Engineer played a few song requests on the sound system. Soldier switched around party hats on the raccoons to better suit their personalities. Demo lit a sparkler and let it burn out. They switched card games.

At the two hour mark, the concern was starting to build in all of them. Maybe Scout went even further than any of them had expected. He hadn’t told any of them to wait up for him, to be fair. But he always told them outright if he wouldn’t be back for supper, and he hadn’t said anything, and should’ve been back by then. It was getting well into sundown.

“I am preparing to declare Scout as officially AWOL,” Soldier mumbled somewhere near the two/and-a-half hour mark, just a bit angrily, adjusting the party hat on Corporal Munch where it was crooked. Demo patted him on the shoulder to console him.

“He’ll get here when he gets here,” he assured, going back to fiddling with a party popper.

“Don’t waste those,” the Engineer warned. “And no queens, Go Fish.”

A groan from Medic. Demo shrugged. “We have some extra. Here, just to liven her up.”

He tugged the string on the popper, setting it off and sending a short shower of confetti onto Soldier, and that was where it all went wrong.

Corporal Munch, startled, made a little yelp-like noise and quickly clawed up Soldier’s chest, startled and attempting to escape. Soldier tried to grab on harder, but that just made the raccoon even more alarmed, and it rushed to clamor faster, digging claws in hard. Heads turned in time to see Soldier losing his grip and the animal rushing away towards the nearest enclosed, dim space, which just so happened to be the table Pyro was sitting at with the cake.

Pyro leapt up from their seat, battle instincts kicking in for a moment, and the movement startled the Corporal, who veered suddenly and crashed directly into one of the chairs, toppling it and the one directly next to it and making the entire table jerk.

Pyro, panicked, quickly grabbed the cake stand before it could fall over, dropping their lighter and the candle in their hand. The two things landed on the tablecloth, and by the time Pyro realized their mistake, they’d already lit the thin paper tablecloth on fire.

Shouting around the room as teammates attempted to leap into action, Pyro trying to save the cake from the fire first and foremost, Soldier attempting to catch the Corporal, who was only becoming more freaked out over time. Heavy moved to snatch up some of the other flammable items off of the table, but misjudged where Pyro was moving, and Pyro collided with him, the cake tumbling from the stand and directly across the both of them. The Corporal, entirely confused on the commotion, attempted to claw into the space under the cards table, making Medic yelp as his legs were torn into, Sniper rushing to try and catch the animal as well. Demo, having found the fire extinguisher, realized he was a bit late as he tried to put out the table, most of the tablecloth gone and the fire having spread across the streamers, and he tried to put out what he could, and it was only with the Engineer’s cry of dismay that he remembered, oh, right, those streamers were on top of that shiny new sound system, weren’t they. With a final puff, the ‘Happy Birthday’ sign went up in flames and was gone, and the team was left there in the wreckage.

Spy rounded the corner into the room, eyebrows furrowed from the commotion he’d heard. When he saw the smoking, foamy, cake-y remains, all he could do was sigh, kneading at the bridge of his nose. “Something new every year, is it?” he drawled.

-

It took them the better part of forty minutes to clean up the mess, and even then, the room had a weird smell to it. By the end of everything, all they had was one of the undecorated practice cakes Pyro had baked, some party hats, and some poppers. And by the time they were done cleaning up, Scout still hadn’t returned.

“At least he doesn’t have to see what a damn mess we made of things,” the Engineer sighed, and that seemed to be the consensus.

It was much later that Spy finally let them know that he’d seen the headlights of a motorcycle coming up the road, and the team just sighed, too tired to work up much energy. Some of them at least planned to call out a ‘happy birthday’ at him, but all they could do was stare when he walked into the room.

“Hey, guys,” Scout croaked, attempting a smile through a bruised lip.

“What the hell happened to you?” Sniper demanded, taking in the sight.

Scout was busted up in a number of different ways. What looked like a former bloody nose and a swollen lip seemed to be the worst of it, an amount of blood all down Scout’s front, staining what looked like one of his nicer civvie shirts beyond repair. There was also a dampness to his shirt and hair and a stain that implied he’d been splashed with something, practically drenched by the look of it, and he carried himself just slightly off-balance and held a bag in the arm not cradled to his abdomen.

Despite that, he managed a laugh, a lopsided grin. “Man, what the hell didn’t happen to me is more like it,” he said, shrugging. “Had a weird one.”

“Are you alright?” Medic demanded, already standing up, from his chair, and Scout shrugged again.

“Just bruises and all, it’s not an emergency or whatever, but I’d appreciate a heal or somethin’,” he admitted, and Medic left the room, hurrying towards the infirmary. “Forreal, though, what a fuckin’ night.”

“What’s on your shirt?” Spy asked, entirely deadpan, looking vaguely disgusted.

“Uh, I think it’s a margarita?” Scout said, glancing down at it and picking at his shirt vaguely. “I, uh, I should start from the top. Okay, so I went into town, right? I was just gonna buy some stuff real quick, and I got, uh… I got a little lost.”

“A little? Scooter, you’ve been gone all day!” the Engineer admonished.

“Yeah, yeah, I know, I know. There was construction on the usual road, I think they’re fixin’ a bridge or somethin’. Anyways, I got pretty far off track, but I got to town eventually. Just took a while. Anyways, I do my shopping, but because I was all rattled from havin’ to take a hundred detours I totally forget that there’s this one guy at the store that hates my guts, and I’ve gotta split pretty fast before he knocks some teeth out, y’know?”

“Do we want to know why he hates you?” Demo asked, a bit of humor in his tone.

“Nope,” Scout said simply, grinning right back. “So, yeah, but on my way into town I saw at the bar they have some kinda thing goin’ on, right, some kinda weird drink special. So I figure, hey, I’ll walk in, get the new drink, then I’ll leave, y’know? I don’t wanna have to drive home after dark and drunk. So I order, and as soon as I order some guy who’s been at the bar too long already starts tryin’ to pick a fight with me, right? And it’s a whole thing, and I finally get my drink but now there’s a whole thing, and I kinda make this offhanded comment at this gal nearby, y’know, tryin’ to make sure he knows we’re in a public place, all ‘hey, you’re really gonna embarrass yourself by pick in’ fights right in front of this real pretty girl?’, right?”

“Oh no,” Sniper sighed, already seeing where this was going.

“Well, yeah, bad luck, turns out that’s his girlfriend, and he shoves me into some guy, and I get a whole drink all over me, and mine is all over some third gut, and this whole brawl breaks out—anyways, busted lip and no drink and I’m probably not allowed in that bar anymore, but whatever, I finally start headed home.”

“Right,” Spy said, suspicious.

“And, uh, I never wanna drive at night because there’s all these animals out here, right? And the roads are shitty. And I’m headed back, and it’s dark as dicks, and I think I see this rock and I try and go around it, but then the rock moves back in my way because it’s a lizard or whatever and I hit the breaks and swerve straight into a pothole and just barely manage to keep on my bike, but I donk myself on the handlebars and totally throw my leg out of wack and all that. And, uh, and now I’m here.”

“Christ alive,” the Engineer marvelled.

“Bad day to have,” Heavy said, also stunned.

“Hey, it’ll be a funny story to tell later,” Scout shrugged, still grinning. “Got those new shoes at least, though.”

He pulled a shoebox out of the paper bag, and the box was dented into some kind of new parallelogram, barely resembling its past shape. Scout, meanwhile, was still smiling.

Silence in the room. “Well. While it is unlikely you need any more excitement today,” Spy trailed hesitantly. Pyro, understanding the cue, leapt up and hurried off into the kitchen, coming back with the cake.

“Woah, seriously?” Scout asked, eyes lighting up. “You made me a cake? Mumbles, you’re the best!”

“We, uh… we had more planned, but, some things went a little wrong,” the Engineer admitted, and trailed off as well as he looked at Scout.

“Not that we get to complain,” Demo laughed, seeming to come to the same realization as the Engineer.

“Are you joking? This rules!” Scout said, and lit up further when Medic returned with his Medigun, shaking off his injuries within a few moments. “Hey, thanks guys, seriously, no idea what I did to get such cool teammates. You guys are awesome, I mean it.”

“Dunno how we got a bloke like you, either,” Sniper shrugged, voice quiet compared to the rest of them. “Not many people can laugh after a day like yours and still have the energy to be pleased with anyone.”

“Aw, hey, I mean… y’know, it’s nothing,” Scout shrugged sheepishly, glancing away for a second. “Hey, you guys are playin’ cards? Deal me in! Oh yeah, hold on, we need plates and stuff for cake—“

He dropped his bag near the door and hurried into the kitchen. The room was quiet behind him. Demo held up a party popper, glancing around the room. The Engineer took it from him, shaking his head.

[nicknellie]

@fireflyingaway requested: willex + waffle house pretty plz

So I did have to do “extensive research” on Waffle House because I don’t have one near me and have never been to one, and that led me to find an incredibly good dessert place literally a ten minute drive from me so thank you for that lmfao. But anyway, I had a lot of fun writing this, I went with getting together (kind of) fluff because that’s my jam, so I really hope you enjoy it!

Smooth Like Syrup

Somewhere along the way, Waffle House had become Alex’s favourite restaurant. He wondered if it was the childhood memories it brought back, weekend brunches spent there with his grandparents who cared for him and loved him far more than his parents ever had. It could have just been the fact that he loved waffles, and with a name like ‘Waffle House’ they couldn’t really put a foot wrong when it came to serving him. Maybe it was just the familiarity of it all – Alex had always found comfort in routine, after all. Whatever the reason he loved it there so much, Alex went to Waffle House at least once a week, more if he had the time. And it was absolutely nothing to do with the adorable new waiter who had started working there for the summer.

If anything, he was ruining it all.

Because he’d been going to the same Waffle House every week for as long as he could remember, Alex was pretty friendly with most of the staff. A few of them had been working there as long as he’d been a customer, so they were on first-name terms and always took a moment or two to catch up with each other once Alex had ordered his food (which never took long because he always ordered the same thing and they all knew that by now). Seeing the same people working there and having the same generic chitchat with them each week worked perfectly for Alex. It was normal, routine, familiar, a social situation he knew how to navigate.

Then they’d gone and hired Willie. It shouldn’t have been a problem, but it was. A problem for Alex at the very least. Not only did it disrupt his routine and catch him unawares the first time he’d walked into the restaurant to see a new waiter, but the waiter had to look like that. Willie was all dazzling smiles and sharp cheekbones and luscious long hair and it was, quite simply, unfair. Alex came to Waffle House to eat, not get flustered over some ridiculously good-looking boy.

For a few weeks, Alex had taken the admittedly immature approach to just avoid Waffle House altogether. Out of sight, out of mind. The only reason it hadn’t lasted long was because he missed the waffles, and he couldn’t find anything to fill that extra hour and a half of his Saturday. So after not visiting for two weeks, Alex returned to Waffle House and resumed his routine, still flustered by stupidly attractive Willie, but most definitely working on a way to stop it being a problem.

His next plan of action had been simply trying to avoid Willie which was foiled the moment he sat down in his usual booth one Saturday afternoon. He had been hoping that his usual server would spot him and come over for a chat, but as luck would have it, Willie got to his table first.

“Welcome to Waffle House,” he had said, beaming down at Alex, who tried to act as if the sudden appearance hadn’t scared the life out of him. He wasn’t sure how well he pulled it off, but Willie had made no comment. “My name is Willie, I’ll be your server today. What can I get you started with?”

Two things had thrown Alex then. Firstly, it had been the first time he’d heard Willie’s name. It was strange to be able to put a name to the face of an angel and he was certain he would never have guessed ‘Willie’ if he’d been given a million tries. Secondly, the fact that Willie didn’t automatically know his order bewildered him. He was so used to the waiters coming over, confirming he wanted the usual, and slipping into easy conversation. This was new and unexpected, and if there was anything Alex hated it was new and unexpected things.

As such, his mind went blank and he completely forgot what he usually ordered. A plain waffle and a diet coke shouldn’t have been easy to forget, it wasn’t anything fancy, and yet Alex made it work.

“Um,” he’d said dumbly, looking up at Willie’s expectant face with his mouth bobbing open and closed like a mildly distressed fish. He could feel his cheeks heating in a blush and looked away as Willie raised a concerned eyebrow.

“Do you need a minute to decide?” Willie had asked sceptically.

Alex had shaken his head vigorously, aware that probably made him look as frantically flustered as he felt and was trying to hide, which only made him more flustered. He took several shallow but slow breaths before forcing words out of his mouth because that was how conversations worked and he refused to lose the ability to speak over this boy.

“No, no, I know what I want,” he had said eventually. “Just a plain waffle and a diet coke, thank you.”

“Is that everything?” Willie had asked, jotting the order down on his notepad.

Not trusting himself to speak any more than that, Alex just nodded. Willie had shot him a bright smile and disappeared off to get his order prepared. The moment he was certain Willie couldn’t see him anymore, Alex’s head flopped onto the table and he let out a long, exhausted, frustrated groan. He felt like an utter mess.

For the rest of that visit, he’d kept it together by simply not talking to Willie unless it was absolutely necessary. Had he been a more confident person he might have found a better way to handle it, but Alex had been cursed with social awkwardness from the moment he’d been old enough to socialise and it wasn’t suddenly going to fix itself just do he didn’t make a fool of himself in front of Willie.

As time went on, things got simultaneously worse and better between Alex and Willie, enough that Alex both dreaded and looked forward to his weekly Waffle House trips. For one thing, he and Willie had got to know each other a bit better – Willie could anticipate Alex’s order now, Alex could just about talk without tripping over his words or saying something slightly embarrassing (which always felt to Alex like something utterly mortifying and worth overthinking because his brain hated him), and if both of them were in the right state of mind they could manage a very brief chat.

But on the flip side, Alex hated Waffle House now and it was Willie who had ruined it for him. Not for any sane reason like being a bad waiter (because he was actually a very good waiter, which Alex thought had something to do with the fact that he always wore Heelys so he could glide across the restaurant which was much faster than walking). No, Willie had ruined Waffle House for Alex because now he couldn’t go in there and see Willie without getting butterflies in his stomach and a giddy grin on his face.

Now that he knew Willie better, it wasn’t just his beautiful brown eyes and gorgeous smile that Alex liked about him. He was talkative, he was funny, he was sweet. He was extremely considerate – when Alex came in one day, Willie met him at the door, walked him to his usual table, told him they’d run out of diet coke and that he had just popped to the store and bought some just for Alex, knowing he would order it. And he laughed at Alex’s terrible attempts at humour, he drizzled the syrup onto Alex’s waffles in the shape of smiley faces, he made sure Alex’s usual booth was always free of people for when he came in. Everything about Willie made Alex’s heart beat too fast and his breath catch and it was starting to make going to Waffle House a very stressful experience.

So Willie was the reason that Alex loved going there and was also desperate to find somewhere else.

But Alex, despite his many worries about life, wasn’t the kind of person to give up on something just because someone else made it difficult. Sure, that rule had usually applied to very different situations, and he actually liked Willie so it wasn’t as if seeing him was a bad thing, but it helped Alex to remember that he’d always powered through things like this and that was what kept him going to the restaurant.

One day, he arrived to Waffle House later than normal. He had come straight from band practise which had gone on longer than normal because they’d spent the first forty-five minutes arguing about the dangers of fiddling with electrical equipment in the rain and decided to make up that time at the end. As such, Alex arrived almost twenty minutes after he normally would have left.

He didn’t spot Willie immediately as he came in and couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed. Nowadays, Willie nearly always greeted him at the door, knowing exactly what time he arrived. He supposed Willie had long ago given up waiting for him to get there – he had a job to get on with, after all. Alex tried not to feel too sad about it as he made his way over to his usual booth; Willie was a waiter, not a friend, not anything else, and Alex shouldn’t have expected him to wait forever or be there whenever he wanted.

But when Alex came to his usual seat, he was surprised to see someone already sat there. Even more so when he noticed that person was Willie.

Willie looked up as he approached, expression changing from bored to delighted in a second flat. The grin on his face was more than enough to snap Alex out of his sudden bad mood, lifting his spirits and bringing a smile to his face in an instant.

“Alex!” Willie greeted. “You’re here! I thought something had happened to you, man, you had me worried.”

Alex laughed and sat down opposite him, trying to keep his eyes wandering so he didn’t end up just staring at Willie. “Nah, I’m alright. Band practice ran over, is all.”

“I’m glad it’s nothing serious,” Willie said with a small smile. “But if it happens again can you text me to let me know you’ll be late? Just so I know I don’t need to worry about you and I can still keep your table free.”

“Sure, but I don’t have your number,” Alex said, ignoring the persistent fluttering of his heart and the alarms blaring in his head. It seemed as if his mind had pressed its panic button at something Willie had said but Alex was too distracted to figure out what.

“That’s easily fixed,” Willie replied. He dug his phone out of his back pocket and slid it across the table to Alex. “If you put your number in there I’ll text you so you can save mine.”

Heart hammering, cheeks hot, and smile so wide it hurt, Alex nodded and entered his contact information into Willie’s phone. He tried to act nonchalant as he slid it back across the table afterwards, but in his flustered state his aim was off – he pushed too hard and it fell over the edge of the table, right into Willie’s lap. That was one of those slightly embarrassing moments that Alex’s subconscious would likely rub mockingly in his face for days to come and he couldn’t help but wince at the thought.

“Thanks, man,” Willie said, beaming. “It’s just for peace of mind, you know. I really like you and when you didn’t show up earlier I just… well, I wondered where you were.”

Willie wasn’t meeting his eye all of a sudden. In fact, he apparently found the table top very interesting because he was staring at it like it held the secrets of the universe. Alex knew the signs well enough to guess how Willie was feeling then – nervous. But what did Willie ever have to be nervous about?

“Hey,” Alex said gently, lowering his voice in an attempt to calm Willie’s nerves. He leant over the table a little though so that he could still be heard. “I’m here, aren’t I? Nothing bad actually happened. You don’t need to worry about me, Willie. I promise.”

A small, bittersweet smile fluttered across Willie’s face. “Yeah. You’re here.”

The short silence then felt charged, electric, fierce. Why, Alex had no idea.

But Willie broke it, his usual bright smile back on his face as he said, “I hope you don’t mind me eating with you, by the way. I’m on my lunch break and I’d kept this table empty for you anyway so I thought I might as well sit here.”

“Oh, no, it’s fine by me,” Alex insisted. It was a half-truth. Was he happy to have longer to chat with Willie than normal, eat together as if they were friends rather than just a waiter and a customer? Yes. But did this feel too much like a date for Alex’s anxiety to handle, even though it was very clearly not a date? Also yes. He half wanted to ask Willie to sit somewhere else, but that would have been unthinkably rude, so he settled for trying not to be awkward.

Not long later, another server came and brought their food out. For a moment Alex thought it was weird because nobody had even come to take his order, then he remembered that everyone who worked at Waffle House knew what he got so it would have just wasted time if they’d asked. The two of them ate in silence for a while, Willie enjoying his break and Alex enjoying the first food he’d eaten all day.

Their conversation started up again when they were about halfway into their meals. Willie asked about Alex’s band practise, how things were going, what they had lined up. Alex was more than happy to talk about Julie and the Phantoms for hours on end and the way Willie engaged with his waffling on so enthusiastically only fuelled that fire. But in return, Alex made sure to ask how Willie was, how he was getting on preparing to start college, whether he’d had enough free time to skate lately.

It was weird, he thought, that this was their first proper conversation and yet they already knew so much about each other’s lives that it flowed as easily as it would have if Alex had been talking to one of his closest friends. Perhaps he and Willie were closer than he had realised.

He only stayed until Willie’s break ended, which was painfully short. They said their goodbyes, Alex jokingly promised he’d be on time next time, Willie laughed that beautiful laugh of his as he took their plates away, and Alex left the restaurant. He couldn’t shake the odd feeling in his mind, still wondering what had panicked him at the start of their conversation.

It hit him as he was crossing a road, stopping him dead in his tracks and causing an irritated driver to beep his horn at him: Willie had been worried about him.

It felt so much more personal than it should have. If Willie worried, it meant he cared, and if Willie cared then it could have meant any number of things. It could have meant that when he looked at Alex he felt the same featherlight giddiness that Alex did when he saw Willie. It could have meant that Willie spent his days wishing Alex was more than just a regular customer. It could have meant that when Willie asked for his phone number he was actually asking for more than that.

Alex had no idea what inspired him to do it, what unusual burst of courage gave him the ability to go through with it, but a moment later he had whipped his phone out and opened Willie’s contact. There was only one message between them, the one Willie had sent so Alex could save his information, but Alex quickly typed out another and hit send before he had time to regret it.

I know you said I only needed to text you if I was going to be late, but I figured I could text you about other stuff too. Like the fact I’m free next Friday if you want to hang out.

Something like that ordinarily would have stressed him out but he didn’t have the time for that because Willie’s response was almost immediate.

Sure! I hear Waffle House is pretty great, how about we go there?

Alex laughed at how dorky and cute Willie was even over text and replied quickly with: It’s a date.

Willie replied with three emojis – a smiley face, a heart, and a waffle. Even just from that, Alex knew Willie had understood him and that next Friday they would be going on an actual date together. He didn’t care whether it was actually at Waffle House or they tried somewhere completely new; as long as he was with Willie, nothing else mattered.

[glimmerglanger]

ok wild prompt ignore if u feel loke it but i just read "is that a knife in your thigh or you just happy to see me?" and immediately thought of Obi-Wan (bc i am always thinking abt him lets be real)

DJFKSLDFJ Did I have a jolt of inspiration for this in the middle of a work project? Yes. Did I take a break to jot it all down before I forgot? Also yes!

Anyway! This is a little pre-obikin fic. Set during the Clone Wars. Mentions of injuries (someone got stabbed in the leg, after all) and a rescue attempt that went very wrong. Sillier than it sounds, I think.

~~~~~

“Is that a knife in your thigh,” Obi-Wan slurred, as Anakin bent over him, swearing under his breath, “or are you just happy to see me?”

Anakin stopped for a moment, gaping down at Obi-Wan, who flashed him a wide grin, apparently unrepentant. Anakin decided to blame the comment on whatever the kriff the Separatists had dosed Obi-Wan with before Anakin managed to find him.

“It’s a knife,” Anakin told him, biting the words out and putting both hands on Obi-Wan’s head, because it was the only way to make him stay still. Anakin checked his eyes. His pupils were blown, no sign of blue around the edges of his eyes. He frowned, ignoring the pain radiating out of his leg. “You put it there, remember?”

“Oh, yes,” Obi-Wan said, expression abruptly going serious. He was still tugging on Anakin’s arms, uncoordinated. Anakin had a feeling Obi-Wan had been aiming for his gut, not his thigh. “Sorry about that.”

“I know you didn’t mean it,” Anakin told him, though that wasn’t….quite true. Obi-Wan had obviously meant to stab someone. Probably whoever had done this to him. Anakin wasn’t entirely sure what this was, only that Obi-Wan was...obviously not himself. And that he was hurt. “Can you stand?”

“Do I have to?” Obi-Wan asked. He was tugging Anakin’s collar to one side. Anakin resisted the urge to roll his eyes, using the Force to push aside the throbbing pain in his leg. He’d seen Obi-Wan get like this a few times, usually after he was given pain killers.

They affected him...oddly.

“Yes,” Anakin said, trying to lift Obi-Wan’s hands away from his clothes. “I can’t carry you. You stabbed me in the leg.”

“We could take the knife out,” Obi-Wan suggested, and Anakin just barely managed to catch his wrist as he reached down.

“We’re not going to do that,” Anakin told him, though there was an immediate temptation to the idea. It was instinct to want to pull out the thing that caused so much pain. But it would be a terrible idea in their situation.

Currently, the knife was the only thing keeping his blood inside his body. It wasn’t doing a great job, but removing it would make things much worse. He was pretty sure Obi-Wan had nicked something important. 

Obi-Wan pouted up at him. Anakin ignored the expression, looking him over and trying to get a better idea of how he was hurt. It was, at least, easy to assess his condition. The Separatists must have had him in bacta, based on how sticky he felt and the fact that he was barely wearing anything.

Anakin had no idea why they’d thrown Obi-Wan in this little cell. Or how he’d gotten a knife. He had a lot of questions that could be answered later. “Alright,” he said, shaking his head. The agony from his leg was making it hard to think. “You’re getting up, come on.”

“Sir, yes, sir,” Obi-Wan rasped, husky, and Anakin rolled his eyes. He focused on getting himself up, first, hissing as he tried to put any weight on his leg. Not only was he not going to be able to carry Obi-Wan out of here, it was feeling more and more likely that Obi-Wan was going to need to carry him. 

As far as rescues went, this wasn’t one he wanted recorded.

“Oh,” Obi-Wan said, as Anakin braced one hand on the wall, trying to stop his head from spinning. Kriffing blood loss. Kriffing Obi-Wan, stabbing him in the leg while Anakin was trying to rescue him, it was-- “You’re bleeding.”

“I am,” Anakin said, reaching a hand down. “Take my hand, you need to get up.”

Obi-Wan stared at him for another long moment and then stretched out his arm, wobbly. It took him two tries to grab Anakin’s hand, but then he managed to pull himself up. He swayed forward, into Anakin, who groaned in misery, biting his tongue and trying to avoid blacking out.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan said, face mashed up against his shoulder. “Is a that a knife in your leg, or--”

“It’s a knife,” Anakin told him, ragged, “just like it was the first time you asked.” The room was spinning around. He thought he might be ill.

Obi-Wan patted at his sides and then asked, voice cracking, “You’re not happy to see me?”

Anakin was going to single-handedly tear apart every Separatist involved in whatever had been going on here. He swore breathlessly. “Of course I’m happy to see you,” he said, ignoring the way his leg was starting to feel very, very cold.

“Doesn’t seem like it,” Obi-Wan said, voice still quivering.

Anakin was also going to strangle whoever had developed whatever drug it was they’d given to Obi-Wan. Later. He swallowed, struggling for focus. “I’m so happy,” he said, through gritted teeth. “But I need your help to get out of here, right now.” 

Obi-Wan lifted his head at that, which was a mistake, because then he swayed to the side and almost went down. Anakin cursed, gripping him to keep him upright. “Kriff,” he said, hoping no one was around to see, “alright, you’re going to have to walk. And - and help me.”

“Ah,” Obi-Wan said, nodding jerkily. “Because of the knife.”

“Because of the knife,” Anakin agreed, and swallowed a shout when Obi-Wan immediately straightened, taking most of his own weight. He only swayed alarmingly for a moment before he reached out and grabbed Anakin, dragging an arm over his shoulder.

“Obi-Wan,” Anakin managed to pant out, as Obi-Wan took a swaying step towards the door, dragging him along. Obi-Wan made an agreeable, humming sound. “Next time I come to rescue you, maybe don’t stab me.”

“I’ll kiss it better,” Obi-Wan said, starting a jagged path down the hall, utterly unable to walk in a straight line. 

Anakin stared forward, his leg a dull throb and his vision starting to get a little blurry. He wasn’t sure he’d heard properly. His pulse was pounding very loudly in his ears. He asked, hearing a slur in his voice, “What?”

“Your thigh,” Obi-Wan said, readjusting his grip, taking a little more of Anakin’s weight. “Where the knife is. I’ll kiss it. It’ll be fine.”

Anakin considered that. It took a while to work all the way through the statements. He said, finally, “I don’t think that’ll help.”

Obi-Wan was quiet for a little while. They’d almost reached the end of the hall. There was a door there. And, with any luck, the ship Anakin had taken to come and rescue Obi-Wan was still out there. “Oh,” Obi-Wan said, finally, “I could kiss something else.”

“That sounds better,” Anakin told him, distantly aware that neither one of them should have been talking. But he didn’t have the energy to control his tongue. He felt...tired. And heavy. His body weighed as much as a small moon. He had no idea how Obi-Wan was dragging him along. “Why not my mouth?” he suggested, as the world wobbled around him. 

“Mm,” Obi-Wan hummed, nodding. “Alright, I’d like that,” he said, and Anakin laughed, just a little.

“Wait until I’m awake,” he advised, because if Obi-Wan really was going to kiss him, after all of this time, he’d like to be conscious for it. The world spun around again, as Obi-Wan shouldered his way through the door, over all the droid bodies Anakin had left behind on his way into the compound.

The sun beat down on his face. The ship was still waiting, ramp down. Anakin exhaled, relief carving away the last of his energy, and heard Obi-Wan make a concerned sound from somewhere far away.

[15-dogs]

new hire |n.s.|

pairing: newt scamander x apothecary!reader

summary: you’re hired as the new apothecary at newt’s favorite establishment, and he finds himself attending the store more often to buy more and more ridiculous, unneeded items (all the fluff!! coffeeshop (technically apothecary) au, pining)

warnings: none

guide: (Y/N) = your name, italics = writing

word count: 3.9K

a/n: this is my take on a coffeeshop au!! i feel like newt would be more subject to visiting apothecaries than coffeeshops so i used all the basics of a coffeeshop au and changed it to an apothecary!! i hope you like it :)

Newt was positive that his Dittany was somewhere. He shook every drawer upside down, went upstairs to check his bedroom, back downstairs to turn every stone for the second time, then back upstairs to recheck his belongings before he admitted that he was out of it. 

He huffed, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet as he debated whether or not to pick up Dittany then. He ultimately decided that he didn’t want to risk getting into an accident where it was crucial to have on hand and come up empty so he threw on his vest and coat, making his way towards the apothecary store down the street. It was a small place disguised as a pharmacy on the outskirts of Diagon Alley. The building wouldn’t appear to muggles as it truly was, allowing for wizards to slip in and out unnoticed.

“Oliphant & Bailey’s Medicinal Supply” was painted onto a metal sign that swung outside the store, the metal sign bracket whining every time the wind would pass. Newt smiled at the familiar words before entering, being greeted with the smell of fresh herbs that were drying out on racks by the door. 

His eyes scanned the jars along the shelves, finding the Dittany hidden off to the side from everything else. He let out a content sigh as he attempted to snatch it off the shelf but it didn’t budge. Newt looked around the store with confusion and finally realized just how crowded the place was.

“Mr. Scamander!” a woman called out. Newt whipped around, finding Vancity Oliphant with a trail of boxes floating behind her, her dress robes pressed to perfection. “We haven’t seen you around here in quite some time. Where have you been?”

“Busy, mostly.” Newt shrugged, fiddling with his hands.

Vancity began to twist her wand, various potions flying onto the shelves. “Well, one thing’s for certain: we missed you. We’ve been getting an increase in business recently--” Vancity turned towards Newt, leaning in close “--the whole nonsense that that man, Lockhart, has spun has everyone panicked. He told them that if they don’t turn to holistic medicine, then there would be a greater chance that they would be attacked by a troll. Ridiculous, sure, but business has been outstanding! We even had to get a new hire!”

Newt gave her a placating nod, hoping that the conversation would be over soon. “Right, that’s fantastic-”

“Isn’t it?” Vancity rounded the counter and beckoned Newt to follow her, passing the people in the line who seemed to have been waiting for quite some time. “Anyway, how can I help you, Mr. Scamander?”

Newt nearly sighed with relief at the question finally being asked. “I tried to pick some Dittany up off the shelf, but it wouldn’t budge-”

“About that,” Vancity let out a low breath, dipping her head with disappointment. “With the uptick in sales, we’ve had an uptick in accidents. People were knocking our things off the shelves and it just took too much time to clean up and rebrew and whatnot. So we fixed everything down. Only employees can pick things off the shelf.” Vancity snatched a slip of paper, quill, and inkwell off the counter and slid them towards Newt. “We started to provide customers with these sheets so they can fill out what they need and we pick it up for them.”

Newt, knowing that the sooner it would all be over the better, simply nodded and began to fill out the form. Vancity chuckled before taking the form in her hands.

“One vial of Dittany coming right up, Mr. Scamander.” And just like that, she disappeared into the back room.

Newt glanced around the store and wondered if there was anything else he needed before he left. He spotted a few herbs off in the corner that might be of use but, as his gaze caught on the already irritated line, he decided it was in his best interest to pick them up another time.

“Mr.-...Sarmander?” a voice called out.

Newt whipped around, taken by surprise by the new face. Your face. He felt a strange sensation in his chest when he looked at you, like a sense of warmth had flooded through him. You raised an eyebrow at him, wondering why he had been staring at you for so long.

“Are you Mr. Sarmander?” you repeated, shaking the bottle of Dittany in your hand.

“Scamander,” he corrected as he approached you.

Your cheeks heated up at the mistake. “My apologies, Mr. Scamander. I just read what was off the paper but apparently I wasn’t looking closely enough.”

“I have truly terrible handwriting.” That was a lie. Newt didn’t know where it came from. “Thank you.”

“Have a lovely afternoon, Mr. Scamander!”

He would have one now.

•••

Newt was having some trouble making progress on his novel in the next few days. He had barely drafted a page of anything because he was too focused on the interaction that the two of you had only 4 days prior.

He knew you were kind. He could see it in your eyes. Even if he only spoke to you for just a moment, he knew it was true. And you had a lovely smile. One that was so lovely you must’ve flashed it at everyone and left them thinking about it as much as Newt was.

Newt shook his head, breaking himself from the trance he was in to look at his blank page. Writer’s block was not faring well with him. So he stood up and threw his jacket on, realizing he could do with the fresh air. As he was leaving his house, he stopped short in the doorway, snatching some money from his kitchen table. He might as well grab some more herbs while he was out.

No more than 15 minutes later Newt was entering Oliphant & Bailey’s. The store was empty for once, but he figured it would be for a Monday morning. Newt made his way to the counter, rocking back and forth as he awaited an attendant. To his dismay, Rita Bailey revealed herself from the back room.

“Mr. Scamander!” she cried. Rita leaned over the counter, furiously shaking his hands in hers. “How have you been?” Newt opened his mouth but she didn’t give him time to answer before she was speaking again. 

“I heard you were in here a few days ago. It’s not often that we see you in here twice a week. Are you out on something?” Rita’s eyes widened as she seemed to beat her own question in her head. She leaned unbearably close over the counter and whispered, “Is your Swooping Evil not producing? Because Vance and I have some products in the back. Stuff on the side, if you-”

Vancity, who stood in the doorway of the office, cleared her throat, calling the attention of her partner. Rita’s head whipped around, a sheepish grin plastered on her face.

“Rita,” began Vancity, her voice stern, “I need you in back to help with the budget.”

Rita stood to her full height, motioning towards Newt. “Well, who’s gonna help Scamander, then?”

Vancity leaned into her office, speaking to someone with a jerk of head towards the shop. There was a muffled reply and the sound of shoes clicking against hardwood, pacing around the back room.

Newt’s heart began to beat just a little faster. He didn’t want to get his hopes up for nothing. Then he caught himself. What was he getting his hopes up for? He wasn’t expecting anything, and he certainly didn’t care if you were there or not. It’s not like the back of his neck flushed and his cheeks started to heat up when he saw you exiting the back room.

“Mr. Scamander,” you stated. Newt let out a shaky breath; your voice was so smooth, the words sounded almost practiced as they fell from your lips. 

You brushed one hand off on the little apron that was tied around your waist and the other was used to magic a quill and inkwell onto the counter. You reached into your apron to pull out a slip of paper, dotting your quill into the ink. “How can I help you today?”

“I need some ingredients,” he shot out quickly, looking down at the counter.

You chuckled softly as you scribbled in a box, drawing his attention upwards. “What kinds of ingredients?”

Newt took in a sobering breath as you finally met his gaze. For a moment, he forgot what he came there for. “Mandrake root and Moonflower Pollen.”

You gave him a dutiful nod as you jotted the items down. You tossed the quill and paper up in the air, the quill finding its place by the inkwell and the paper rolling itself up and flying into a cupboard below your legs.

You scooted out from behind the desk, walking up past Newt towards the racks of herbs. You picked up the dried up roots of a Mandrake, holding it up at him. “This one okay, Mr. Scamander?”

“Perfect.”

You moved to another counter, freeing a small paring knife from your apron. “I have to ask you, Mr. Scamander,” you began as you chopped up the root, “you seem to be buying a lot of medicinal supplies. Are you a Healer?”

Newt chuckled under his breath, shaking his head. “No, I’m a Magizoologist.”

You halted in your motions, looking up at him. “Is that so?”

“Yes.” His response was no more than a single exhale, the words barely forming as he stared into your eyes. He finally peeled himself away from your gaze to continue. “With the creatures I work with, some healing skills are of great use.”

You hummed in response. “I can imagine.” Flicking your wand, a small mortar and pestle flew to your side. With the blade of your knife, you scooped the chopped up root into the bowl and began to grind it to a fine powder. “You know, I was always interested in Care of Magical Creatures back at Hogwarts. I was never all that good at it, though. Not like I was with Herbology.”

Newt’s eyes were trained on the root being cut up, too afraid that looking would cause him to meet your occasional glance up and make a fool of himself. “I’m actually writing a book on magical creatures at the moment.”

“Really?”

“If you’d ever like to study magical creatures again, I could give you a copy.” Newt’s heart began to flutter at the way your eyes lit up.

You stopped in your motions of preparing his Mandrake Root, meeting his gaze with a soft smile. “That would be wonderful.”

After packaging up the now-crushed root into a small, beat up tin and handing it to Newt, you paced around the counter with another tin in hand. You approached a glass jar full of yellow pollen in it, using the scoop inside to portion out a generous amount.

“How’s this, Mr. Scamander?” 

You tilted the tin towards him, Newt leaning in to examine the contents. Before he could answer, a quiet sneeze came from his coat. You pulled the container back, your brows furrowed as Newt became flushed. He hesitated to reach into his coat, turning to the side as he pulled Pickett, his Bowtruckle, out and scolding him just out of earshot.

“No, Pick, I didn’t forget about-...she didn’t know you were-...don’t blame this on her! She did nothing-”

“I’m sorry,” you interrupted. Newt froze, cocking his head to see you practically leaning over his shoulder. “I have to ask, is that a Bowtruckle?”

Newt exchanged a glance with Pickett before popping him into his pocket, Pickett’s head resting just outside of the heavy fabric to stare you down. “Yes, he is.” You fought a giggle as you leaned down to stare at Pickett in the eyes. “He has some-”

“Attachment issues?” you finished. Newt’s eyes went wide as he gave you a nod. A smile flickered onto his lips for just a moment. You looked up at Newt from your position then stood to your full height. “I’ve heard of that being the case with Bowtruckles before.”

Newt simply nodded again, too distracted by the fact that you were just inches from his face. For just a moment he could have sworn that he saw your eyes flicker down to his lips, his breath getting caught in his throat.

“I have just the thing for your Bowtruckle,” you whispered before moving away towards another shelf.

Newt shivered and let out a sigh, his chest thundering. Finally, he realized you had moved away and followed, watching with a close eye as you broke off the tiny fruit of a strange purple herb that he couldn’t place.

“What’s his name?” you asked while you pulled the fruit into halves.

“Pickett.”

You turned around, offering a half of the fruit to Pickett. Pickett perked up, looking up at Newt for permission. You chuckled at the interaction while Newt pulled Pickett out, letting him sit on his finger.

“Well then, this is for you, Pickett.”

Pickett shared one more look with Newt before taking the fruit and gnawing on it instantly. He let out a happy squeak and jumped onto your arm, crawling up to your shoulder as he continued to snack on the fruit.

Newt let out an impressed laugh at the sight. “Pick doesn’t quite like strangers,” he explained.

You turned your head to eye the happy Bowtruckle, petting him with the pad of your index finger. “Suppose we’re not strangers anymore, are we, Pick?”

“Newt,” Newt shot out quickly. He continued to stare at his fingers while he toyed with them. “You can call me Newt.”

Newt only looked up when he saw your hand come into his field of vision, all delicate and strong. He took your extended hand and shook with careful vigor, the corner of his lips quirking upwards.

“Then consider us friends, too, Newt. I’m (Y/N).”

•••

Newt began to frequent the apothecary more often than he needed to. He always seemed to be running out of something, and he always seemed to arrive just when the rush died down. His list of items he needed appeared to grow longer and longer with each visit, but you never once gave his service to another employee.

The thought of you ran tirelessly through Newt’s head at night. His heart would beat just the slightest bit faster when he thought of that gorgeous smile you would flash him when he walked through the door, almost like you were expecting him to be there. 

Oh, Merlin, and that disarming chuckle that tumbled from your lips when he would trip over his words. It instantly calmed Newt down, his stammer fading away slowly.

Distracted from his writing again, Newt decided to pay you a visit at the apothecary. He snatched the coat of the back of his chair and ran out the door, his heart getting lighter with each step towards the store. Once he arrived, he swung the door open and looked up, only to find that you weren’t there. He frowned, but approached the counter and waited.

“Mr. Scamander!” Vancity cried as she exited the backroom. “How can I help you?”

Newt leaned over slightly, checking to see if you were in the back before the door shut behind Vancity. “Is (Y/N) here?”

Vancity let out an apologetic sigh. “Sorry, Mr. Scamander, she’s out sick.” Newt opened his mouth to speak but Vancity predicted his next question, silencing him immediately. “She doesn’t know when she’ll be back, either.”

“Oh. Right.” Newt focused on the counter, trying not to meet that horribly embarrassing sympathetic look that crowded Vancity’s face. “Will she be okay?”

“She’ll be perfectly fine. Nothing she can’t handle. It is her job to supply medicinal supplements, after all. Now, is there anything I can help you with?”

“No, actually.”

Newt wasn’t sure what Vancity said left-- his mind was too full with strange thoughts about the nature of your relationship. You were friends, weren’t you? That’s what you said to him the day you met Pickett. So if you were just friends, why was he feeling so lost without you there?

Newt took his time walking back to his house, his mind off someone else. He couldn’t help but recall the way you made him feel with your kind heart and witty humor, your soft eyes and enchanting smile. Just remembering that made his cheeks heat up.

As Newt entered his home, he walked into the basement and opened a cupboard to prepare the food for his Glow Bugs when a few tins from Oliphant & Bailey’s fell onto the counter. That’s when it hit him. He didn’t need all those herbs. He never did. So why was he going?

It was so plain. It was all there, the facts laid out in front of him: Newt Scamander had feelings for you. It was so incredibly obvious that he wondered how he didn’t notice it before. And it wasn’t a normal attraction, it was a stupid schoolboy crush; the kind where he’d go through ridiculous measures just to get your attention.

He groaned and threw his head into his hands at his epiphany. What in Merlin’s name was he supposed to do?

•••

Newt revisited the apothecary day after day, awaiting your return. After about a week of the constant rejections, he decided to let it go for the time being. It was frustrating, to say the least, to not hear how you were doing. He was more concerned about you than he was about acting on his feelings, because Merlin knows when he’d do that.

As Newt ran through the possibilities of what you had come down with, a knocking came from his front that snapped his attention to the forefront of his mind. He opened the door and stared, slightly confused at the sight before him.

“Theseus?”

“Nice to see you, too, Newt,” Theseus scoffed, embracing his younger brother into a tight hug. Newt stood quite stiff in his arms until he let go.

The younger Scamander rested an arm against the doorframe, leaning against it to make himself look much taller next to his brother who just happened to tower over him. After settling into the awkward position, Newt asked, “What brings you here?”

Theseus reached into his pocket to pull out a small notice, placing it into the hands of Newt. Newt frowned before unravelling it and scanning over its contents.

“It’s a notice from the Ministry. Next date to get your international ban removed.”

“Ah.” Newt raised the note in the air, casting a silent spell to have the paper zip itself down to his basement. “I’ll see you then, I reckon.”

Newt tried to shut the door but Theseus put his foot in it, prying it open to face Newt once more. Theseus held out a hand as the other fished through his jacket pocket to pull out a few small vials of Dittany.

“Just in case,” Theseus added sheepishly. “You always used to run out of this, and I can bet you still do.”

Newt flashed a grateful smile at his brother before his eyes caught on the label of the bottle. That same label that was plastered on every herb in his basement.

“Did you get this from Oliphant & Bailey’s?”

“I did, actually.” Theseus snorted, an amused grin on his lips. “The Apothecary there, the new one, she knew you. Recognized my face and asked if I was related to you, ‘the more handsome Scamander’. Her words, not mine.”

“When did you get these?”

“Right before I came here, why?” That familiar devious smirk grew on Theseus’ lips. “Do you fancy the girl, Newt?”

Newt lit up instantly, regardless of Theseus’s teasing. He sucked in a sharp breath and turned towards his coat rack to grab his jacket, slipping it on with great haste. Newt pushed his brother aside, casting a spell to activate the wards at his house.

Newt practically ran to the apothecary, the door swinging open to find a mass of people in line. He didn’t care. He pushed to the front, resting when he got to the counter. He scanned the store, trying to find you but came up empty.

“Newt?”

The sandy haired man whipped around, finding you walking out of the backroom, boxes in hand. Newt sighed, a warmth spreading inside of him at the sight of you. He ran up to you and alleviated the weight from your hands, resting the box on the counter.

“How are you feeling?” he asked through labored breaths.

“I’m...fine. Were you just running?”

Newt was never a good liar. He always got caught one way or another. “Yes…? I desperately need some Dittany.”

A knowing smile toyed at your lips as you raised your brows at him. “Dittany? Did your brother not give you the two vials like he said he would?”

Newt Scamander: expert in magical creatures, failure in lying.

“...right. I meant that I need some of that fruit you gave Pickett a few weeks ago.”

You snorted with laughter before pulling out the form and filling it out with the items, name, and his home address. You cut through the throng of people, snatching a tin up and preparing some of the fruit for Newt.

He began to rifle through his jacket pockets in an attempt to find some money for the treats he didn’t really need.

“How much is it-”

“It’s on the house, Newt. I’m pretty sure you’re our best customer, anyway.”

Newt looked up at you for a moment, his lips curling upwards at your kindness. “I appreciate it.”

“Don’t mention it. You know,” you began as you labeled the tin, “being sick wasn’t all that bad. Kept me away from work and all. Let me take a break.” 

Newt nodded, feeling selfish for wishing you to be at work all the time just so he could see you. “Right,” was all he managed to say.

“The worst part”--you shoved the tin into Newt’s arms-- “was not seeing you.”

The tips of Newt’s ears began to heat up. He wanted to say something clever so desperately but all he managed to do was stare at you in complete shock, eyes wide and jaw slack. 

He watched as your eyes flickered down towards the tin, seemingly awaiting a reaction. Newt furrowed his brow before glancing down at the writing on there, blinking in shock. He reread it a few more times, only looking up when he heard you chuckle.

“Is this serious?” he asked.

“Why wouldn’t it be?”

“Because it’s-- well it’s-- it’s me, and you’re you. You’re just...you’re you and I’m me, and I just didn’t think that you’d feel that way-”

“Newt,” you cut off, laughter spilling from your lips, “I happen to like you being you. Funny how those things work.”

Newt couldn’t process what you had just said. It was like everything in the world had tipped in his favor all at once. Just that gorgeous, encapsulating smile on your face was proof enough for him.

“Reckon I’ll see you tomorrow night, then,” he finally managed to say, backing up the best he could towards the door.

“Tomorrow night,” confirmed. Newt was nearly at the door when you called out, “It’s a date!”

He slipped outside, getting a breath of fresh air for the first time in 15 minutes. He ran a hand through his hair, just then realizing that his heart was pounding out of his chest, his grin so wide that his cheeks began to ache. But he didn’t care. He couldn’t be bothered to. Newt looked down at the label one last time, chuckling at the note.

Thursday. 7 PM. Your place.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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