#but then they yell at you for having a ''contagious dog'' on the street

[theinfernaldesiremachine]

9) If your off-leash dog runs up to someone using a working dog (guide dog, medical alert dog, etc) you are putting the person and the dog in danger in the moment, and possibly ending the dog’s career if the experience is traumatic

Everyone else talked about outdoor cats, it's time for me to talk about offleash dogs

[polaroid15]

Parker Luck

Summary: Two weeks after the Vulture-incident, Tony buys a parenting book. Too bad there isn't a chapter on Parker luck.

Read on Ao3 HERE :)

------

Two weeks after the Vulture fiasco, Tony buys a book called ‘Parenting for Dummies’.

He almost immediately regrets the purchase and hides it in a drawer in the lab, not yet brave enough to face it. Then one day he spends three hours squished against Peter’s side, listening to the boy ramble about everything under the sun while they adjust his web shooters. It hits Tony like a brick wall, and when Peter bounces out of the lab after teaching Tony a complicated handshake he knows he’ll never remember, he swears under his breath.

He shouldn’t be surprised, really. He had known it from that very first moment in the kid’s bedroom in Queens.

For once, denial has gotten him nowhere.

After his eyes ache from staring at the door Peter had disappeared from, Tony stands, stretches out a kink in his lower back, and grabs the book from the drawer before he can lose his nerve. Still standing, he traces his thumb over the word Parenting on the cover.

Retreat, his mind begs. Stop. Before it’s too late.

But deep down, he knows he’s already in too deep.

With a heavy sigh and a pressing warmth in his chest, Tony flips the pages to chapter one.

--------

Peter calls it ‘Parker luck’.

Tony calls it the source of his ever-increasing gray hair.

When Peter stumbles into the Tower covered in blood and delirious from a nasty hit to the head, Tony thinks he’ll pass out from the sudden weight of his worry. It only takes some gentle coaxing and seven stitches to make it better, but the unease sits in Tony’s gut long after Peter falls asleep. When the boy wakes up, he apologizes until Tony snaps at him not too.

“It’s the Parker luck, Mr. Stark,” Peter tells him, his head wrapped like a mummy on halloween. “It gets me everytime.”

Parenting for Dummies Chapter Three: Listen. “A nasty concussion doesn’t exactly sound like luck to me, kid.”

“Oh, well it’s not good luck,” Peter clarifies with a weak smile. “In fact it’s really bad luck. Exceptionally bad.”

“You’re killing me here.”

“Did you know that I slipped on a banana peel once? A banana peel. I was on crutches for three weeks in middle school.”

Tony’s worry melts into a hesitant amusement. He sits back on his stiff medbay chair and makes a distant note to invest in a better one. “That is pretty lousy luck, kiddo.”

“And it just keeps getting worse,” Peter says. “Getting bitten by a radioactive spider, crashing Flash’s car, or the fact that I spent homecoming destroying a plane while fighting my date’s dad.”

“I hope this Parker luck of yours isn’t contagious,” Tony jokes, but something in Peter’s eyes darkens. He leans back against the white sheets, chewing on his bottom lip. Tony thinks again of chapter three, of the subtitle that prompts to push at the right times, and takes the liberty. “What is it, kid?”

Peter closes his eyes and gives a watery smile. “Nothing, Mr. Stark. Sorry.”

And because he’s an idiot, Tony believes him. Something tells him he needs to buy Parenting for Dummies 2.

--------

When Peter saves a school bus full of third graders from a thirteen car pileup at the expense of his collar bone, Tony rereads his book, this time with a highlighter in hand.

He wishes there was a section on Parker luck.

This time, he’s less careful about where he reads. Pepper catches him one night, her eyebrows disappearing behind her bangs in her surprise. Her smile is genuine. “Is that what I think it is?” she asks.

“Maybe.”

“Oh God, please don’t tell me you’re pregnant.”

Tony rolls his eyes and dog ears his page before setting it aside. “I am, actually. And sorry to break it to you, but you’re not the father.”

Pepper laughs and sits on the arm of the couch. She runs her hand through his hair and he can’t help but lean into her touch. “This is about Peter,” she says.

His first instinct is to deny it. He feels vulnerable in a way he isn’t used to. “So what if it is?”

“He’s a good kid.”

“I know.”

“He’s making you soft.”

Tony scoffs, but doesn’t deny it. Not with Parenting for Dummies on his lap. “He’s stressing me out, is what he’s doing.”

“He really cares about you, Tony. I see it every time he’s over here.”

His body betrays him by the gentle swoop in his stomach. His mouth twitches in a smile. “I care about him too.”

“You’re a good example to him. He needs someone like you in his life. Especially after what happened to his parents. And his Uncle.”

And then it clicks. Parker luck. Tony’s mouth goes dry.

“I’m trying,” is all he manages to whisper. The book in his lap seems to increase by ten.

Pepper leans over him, pressing her lips into his hair. “I know.”

---------

It’s his and Peter’s fifth mission together.

Today, they’re going up against “the Detonator”, a crazed woman with an affinity for making bombs and setting them off in busy neighbourhoods. She’s armed with a team of rocket-launcher-wielding henchmen, and it’s taking every effort to keep the city in one piece.

Most of the block has been evacuated, thanks to Peter. Tony remembers chapter seven and shoots the boy some praise over their coms. Steve, who’s joined them for the day’s fight, agrees with clipped enthusiasm.

“Thanks guys!” Peter says in his usual animation. “These rocket launchers are no joke. Have you ever seen the movie-”

But whatever it is, it’s lost in the deafening sound of an explosion. He hears Peter swear over the com and Tony’s blood runs cold. Three blocks down, an orange fireball balloons into the air. Steve is already running, his shield tucked into his chest.

Tony shoots off into the sky.

---------

Peter thought they had everything under control.

Until rocket launcher man number 3 decided to explode the bank off 47th street, that is.

He feels the heat from the explosion before he can process what happened. It rips across his back and throws him off his feet into a hot dog cart across the street. Rubble and ash rain down on parked cars and their alarms begin to sound.

“Crap,” Peter groans, shoving away the dented cart and stumbling to his feet. His ears are ringing.

“Pete?” Tony’s voice cuts through the haze. “We’re on our way. You alright?”

“Yeah,” he responds, breathless. His shoulder aches. “These guys are not in a good mood.”

“You can say that again.”

The man who had fired the shot runs up the steps of the bank, bypassing chunks of concrete. Peter limps after him.

“Sorry man,” Peter says when his opponent’s back is still turned. “It’s after hours.”

Startled, the man spins. Peter fires a web to disarm him and it only takes one swift punch to finish the job. He webs him to the floor and kicks the rocket launcher into the corner.

“Kid?” Tony lands beside him, faceplate lifting and his hands reaching to grab onto him. His grip is tight on Peter’s arms, and Peter is unsure which one of them Tony is trying to comfort. “You still in one piece?”

Peter’s ears are still ringing, a high pitched whine that makes his eye twitch. His ankle throbs and he can feel warmth spreading down his back from a cut on his shoulder. He nods anyway. “Are you?”

“Better now that I see you haven’t been barbecued.”

Steve joins them as Peter laughs off Tony’s worry. He’s breathing heavy, his forehead streaked with ash. “Someone sighted the Detonator. She’s heading east towards the Empire State Building.”

“Of course she is,” Tony sighs. Finally, he lets Peter go. “Ready for a field trip?”

But just as he says it, another violent explosion lights up the street across from them. Peter stumbles against the force. Tony grabs his arm, and Steve his shoulder, and he steadies. Through the black smoke, a child cries.

Chest tight, Peter takes a step forward before he’s yanked back. It’s Tony. His helmet hides his expression, but Peter can tell from his stiff posture that he’s worried. That he doesn’t want to separate.

As if sensing it too, Steve places a hand on Tony’s shoulder. “Peter and I will clear the rocket launchers. You go take care of the Detonator.”

“But-”

“She can’t get to it first, Tony. You’ll be the fastest.”

The crying continues, and Peter takes another step. This time, the metal fingers wrapped around his elbow loosen, letting him go. “You better watch him, Rogers.”

“Mr. Stark-”

“Don’t do anything stupid, kid.”

And then Tony is off, blasting off into the sky. Peter shivers against the hot air his exit leaves before turning to run towards the smoke and debris, Steve hot on his heels. Without hesitation, he jumps over the small flames and emerges on the other side, his throat closing up against the smoke.

The first thing Peter sees is the child, snot-nosed and hidden underneath the bed of a truck. His eyes widen when he sees them, a cry stopped short. “Spider-Man!” he yells.

“Get the kid,” Steve says. “I think I see our guy.”

And then he’s gone.

Peter doesn’t dwell on it, vaulting over a smashed mailbox and a stretch of broken glass to reach the kid’s side. He’s trembling, but his hands reach out. Trusting him.

“It’s alright,” Peter says, accepting the kid’s outstretched hands. “We’re okay. Do you know where your family is?”

The boy shakes his head, lip wobbling but obviously trying to be brave. “N-no. I lost them over there,” he says pointing down the street.

“Okay. No problem. Let’s go find them.”

He doesn’t give the boy an option to walk, but instead guides him to rest against his back. Small fingers lock together at the base of Peter’s throat, holding tight.

“What’s your name?” Peter asks as he heads in the direction the boy had pointed. Keep him distracted.

“Benny.”

Peter’s breath catches. “Nice to meet you, Benny. I’m Spider-Man.”

“I- I know.”

“Oh yeah?”

The boy’s head bobs against his back. “I see you on TV. And on the newspapers on the street. You fight bad guys.”

“I try too.”

“You’re awesome,” Benny says, and the shaking quality to his voice recedes.

“I think you’re the awesome one. You’re being so brave.”

“Brave?”

“Yeah, Benny. Even though it’s scary right now you’re still going.”

Benny sniffles. “Are you scared?”

“Nah,” Peter says. “I’ve got you to protect me.”

Against his back, Benny’s chest swells with a breath of a response, but before he can let the words lose a relieved cry erupts from their left. A woman in a pastel headscarf runs towards them, her arms outstretched. “Benny! My little Ben-”

“Mom!”

Peter maneuvers him to the ground and as soon as his small feet hit the ground he’s running. The pair meet in the middle of the street, their arms wrapping tight and their tears mixing. The mother’s eyes meet him from over Benny’s shoulder. “Thank you,” she says, every ounce of her emotion leaking into her words.

“Of course,” is all he can manage.

Once he’s sure they're safe and off the street, he deviates his attention to his coms. “Steve?” he asks over a private channel. “Where are you?”

For a long time, Steve doesn’t respond. Then just as Peter’s worry spikes the man’s voice fills his ears, pinched and strained. “By the river. I’m cornered.”

“Karen-” Peter starts, but Steve’s location pops up on his screen before he can ask further. He changes the trajectory of his swing and just barely avoids clipping his hip on the corner of a building. Then, to Steve, “I’m on my way!”

He finds the Captain in worse shape than he had expected. He’s hunched against an upturned car, it’s tires melted from the sheer heat of the destruction on the street. His shield is raised over his head to protect him from debris raining from the crumbling buildings.

Across the road, three of Detonator's accomplices are shooting the buildings around him, shrieking with glee whenever new glass shatters. Peter glides between the chaos before landing beside Steve. He scrapes his hands on the landing.

“Oh my god,” Peter says, flinching from another loud explosion. “What do we do?”

Steve grimaces, and it’s only now that Peter sees how messed up his leg is. It’s twisted at an unnatural angle, the material of his suit singed and still smoking around it.

“What the hell happened?” Peter gasps, feeling sick.

“It doesn’t matter. We need to get out of here.”

“Not with those crazy rocket guys standing guard. You can’t walk!”

“I can try.”

Adrenaline courses hot through Peter’s bloodstream. He peaks over the car and reassesses their opponents. “I can take them.”

“No. Tony said-”

“Tony isn’t here,” Peter argues. “Besides, I have my Peter tingle. I’ll be fine.”

“Peter tingle?”

“Be right back.”

“Wait!”

But Peter ducks out of cover, knowing that Steve won’t be able to stop him. He runs towards the one closest to him and hopes the element of surprise will be enough to take them down. It is, but barely, and now his cover is blown. The other two turn their weapons towards him and before he can suck in a breath, fire.

Peter swears and jumps high, the rockets whistling as they pass under his feet. They hit the edge of the sidewalk by the river, blowing it open and skipping chunks of debris into the water. Not wanting to wait for them to reload, Peter swings and takes them both out with a single kick. He lands in a messy roll, disoriented by the quickness of the fight.

“We’re clear!” he yells over to Steve, but even as he says it dread sits heavy in his gut. He takes one step towards the car before he hears it- a sharp release of air.

Fire blooms up at the base of the building closest to Steve, the crack of the impact enough to rattle Peter’s teeth and throw him to his knees. It’s the last straw. The building makes a horrible noise of grinding cement, like a scream, and Peter knows enough from experience that it’s close to collapse.

“Steve!”

He sprints to where the man is trying to limp away. His eyes find him, their blue shocking through the dust and smoke. “Peter. You have to get out of here-”

“Not without you.”

Before the man can object, Peter pulls his weight over his shoulder and makes it his burden. He wonders distantly where the fourth rocket launcher is and why they haven’t been blown sky high yet.

But then glass and cement falls down around them like rain, and Peter realizes. Because the building will finish the job for them.

“We’re not going to make it,” Steve says through ground teeth. His hold on Peter’s shoulder is bruising. “Peter, please.”

The building sways again. They have a couple seconds. Nothing more.

Then Peter sees it. A manhole.

“Here,” he gasps, dropping to his knees and tearing off the cover. Every alarm bell in his head is screaming, but it’s the only option. The only way they’ll both have a chance. “Go.”

Steve drops in, disappearing into darkness and landing below with an aborted shout. Peter kicks his legs in just as the building crumbles. Fear stops the breath in his chest and he slides the rest of the way in. He falls and lands hard, head spinning, before finding Steve’s arm in the darkness and pulling him deeper into the sewer.

There’s a couple moments of silence.

And then the world erupts.

Peter will remember later how the force of the impact threw both of them off their feet and how it was impossible to keep his grip on Steve’s arm. He’ll remember the deafening noise of the building smashing onto the street above them, of the great plume of dust that filled the tunnel and blinded him.

He’ll remember falling, his legs jelly, and struggling to his knees.

He’ll remember wishing he had called Tony.

But none of it registers in the moment. There’s only terror.

And then there’s nothing.

----------

“Peter. Come on. Work with me here.”

Awareness brings pain. He strays.

“Nope. No. Peter. Open your eyes.”

The voice belongs to Steve, Peter realizes in a stilted disorientation. Steve, who had been hurt. Steve, who sounds very much alive.

It’s enough for Peter to lift his heavy eyelids. His surroundings are dark, but he can see the Captain’s worried face swimming in front of him, warping in and out of focus as both of them release a breath of relief.

“Thank God,” Steve says.

“Are you okay?” Peter murmurs, surprised for a moment by how unwilling his vocal cords are to cooperate. There’s new blood on Steve’s face and the torso on his suit is torn.

“It’s you I’m more worried about.”

“Mm. Why?”

Steve might respond, but Peter doesn’t hear it, his awareness slipping like the close of a stage curtain. Strong hands shake him and the sting of his injuries are enough for him to struggle back into wakefulness.

“Stay awake, kid. Alright? Tony is on his way. Keep your eyes open.”

Peter didn’t remember closing his eyes, but sure enough, when he tries they open. “Tony?”

“He’ll be here soon.”

There’s a tightness in his chest, and Peter coughs against it. It sparks a sharp pain behind his ribs and he curls his fingers into the ground as Steve braces him by his shoulder. His ribs are definitely broken. His leg throbs and the skin on the right side of his face itches terribly with drying blood. He blinks a couple times to try and alleviate his double vision, but it does nothing.

“What happened?” Peter asks.

“You don’t remember?”

“Not really.”

Steve’s expression pinches like he’s just eaten something sour. “The building above us collapsed, but don’t worry about it too much. Tony will be here in a flash.”

Collapse. Peter sucks in a panicked breath and it makes him cough again. It hurts worse this time, and his vision goes gray. He comes back to himself in Steve’s lap, his whole body shuddering and then man’s hand clamped protectively against his back.

The new perspective shows Peter a growing red stain on the Captain’s side.

“Steve,” he gasps, uncoordinated fingers reaching out to press against the wound.

“It’s nothing.”

“It’s not- it’s not nothing-”

Before Steve can retaliate further, their coms crack back to life. Peter winces against it, his fingers reaching up to struggle with the edges of his mask. Steve pushes his hand away. “Leave it. It’s helping filter your air.”

“Peter? Rogers?” Tony’s voice comes through in a mess of static. It reminds Peter of Ben’s favorite radio station that had been broadcasted too far to have a good connection. “I’m here. Oh Christ, I’m here. Are you okay?”

“Steve’s hurt,” Peter mumbles. It’s important Tony knows.

“Rogers?”

“Just hurry, Tony,” Steve says. There’s a pressure in his voice that Peter’s too tired to translate.

“The explosion caused the river to flood. You’re under about three feet of water right now.”

“We’re airtight.”

“For now.”

Peter feels himself dip further into Steve’s lap and the man’s steadying hand is delayed. Weaker. “Peter? What did I tell you about staying awake.”

“What’s wrong with Peter?”

“Queens. I need you to put pressure on this for me. Don’t give up on me now.”

Peter groans. For once, he doesn’t care how young it makes him sound. He struggles up anyways and replaces his hand obediently over Steve’s side. It paints his hands red and he tries desperately not to think of Ben.

“Rogers-”

“I got it, Tony.”

There’s a weighted silence. Peter bites the inside of his cheek to keep himself lucid. The static in his brain reminds him of the time he had gotten stabbed, and wonders if he’s bleeding somewhere too.

“Okay. I found a weak spot. It shouldn’t cause too much damage. Are you ready?”

“Go for it.”

There’s another lurch of shifting rock. Peter can’t help but cry out, his muddled brain struggling to comprehend that this time, it’s to help. Then there’s a loud crash, a weak beam of sunlight, and the rush of water.

Within seconds, the cold spray is up to their waists. Peter grinds his teeth and squeezes his eyes shut against reflexive tears the biting temperature brings. It gives him a boost of adrenaline, and when he opens his eyes again, his vision is more clear.

Tony is with them moments later, hovering above the water. His hands reach for Peter, but Peter shys away. “Steve first,” he pleads. “He’s bleeding-”

“You’re bleeding too-” Tony starts, but even as he says it, Steve lists dangerously to the side. His face is pale, his breathing shallow. Tony catches him by the shoulder. “Don’t move,” he tells Peter, and works to lift Steve up towards the hole.

The water is up to Peter's chest now. It steals the breath from his lungs and he scrambles to stand. Somewhere in the journey the ground above him groans and he loses his footing. He hears Tony yell out for him, feels metal hands push him hard, and then he’s completely underwater. There’s more noise. More pain.

He breaks the surface, stuttering on his breath and his teeth clattering. More sunlight has entered the tunnel, and it’s easy to piece together what had happened.

“Tony!”

Peter fights against the current to reach his mentor’s side. His suit is pinned under a large slab of concrete by his left leg, the water already sloshing up to his neck. Peter practically collapses beside him and digs his fingers under the weight, but his ribs scream in protest so violently that his vision goes white.

“Easy!” Tony yells, catching him by his arms when he falters. “Kiddo, listen to me. The suit will let me breathe for a while. You need to get out of here.”

“I’m not leaving you.”

“You have to. FRIDAY took some damage, but she’s recalibrating my boosters. I’ll be able to get out.”

“No,” Peter chokes, trying again to lift the concrete keeping Tony pinned. “I won’t leave without you.”

“Peter-”

“I’m not losing you too. I can’t- I can’t-”

Tony’s voice is more gentle, his hand reaching to cradle the side of Peter’s face. “Listen to me, bud. I know this is scary. But you have to trust me. You have to go. For me.”

Peter shudders. Feels hot tears pool under the tight confines of his mask. “Told you I have Parker luck,” he says.

Tony finds it within himself to laugh. The water is at their chins. “I know, kiddo. But you don’t have to be afraid anymore. We’ve got each other now.”

“Tony-”

“Go.”

The water rises over his mouth. He wouldn’t be able to answer even if he wanted to. Then Tony’s head is submerged, and icy terror closes around Peter’s heart.

He dives under and reaches once more for the weight on Tony’s leg. He pulls and struggles and feels Tony’s hands on his arms, trying to pry him off and pull him away. The light is gone in the murky water.

Please. Please.

The concrete shifts. It takes everything in Peter not to gasp out at the pain it causes, to waste the precious air he has left.

Please.

It shifts again. Tony has given up on trying to push him off and is instead helping to lift the weight. Just a little bit more.

Peter screams, tiny bubbles escaping and carrying whatever he had left away. His body loses strength just as the concrete is alleviated. He thinks he feels Tony’s hands close around his numb body. But really he can’t be sure.

Tony is safe.

And it’s all that matters.

-------

“Peter. Don’t do this.”

“Breathe, Queens. Oh God-”

“Steve. What do I- I can’t- I can’t-”

“Keep the compressions going, Tony. Keep going okay? Don’t stop.”

“I can’t do it without him. I need him, Steve. I need-”

“Keep it together. He’s going to be fine. Right, Peter? You’re going to be fine. You just have to breathe for us.”

“Kiddo. Baby. Please.”

It’s all water down a drain.

A swirling, murky mess.

And it takes Peter with it.

-------

Parenting for Dummies: Chapter 12.

Love them unconditionally.

Tony hasn’t left his kid’s side for hours. He’s been glued to him, the boy’s limp hand pressed between his own like a lifeline even when the doctor’s had worked to splint his leg. Every breath, every rise and fall of Peter’s chest is a miracle, and Tony stares at the heart monitor until his eyes burn.

May is dozing in a recliner in the corner, her glasses crooked on her face. It’s just nearing three in the morning.

There’s movement behind him, and Tony turns to find Steve. He’s traded his hospital gown for a pair of loose sweats and a white shirt, the skin on his arms wrapped with thick bandages. The Captain turns and sees May. When he speaks, his words are almost a whisper. “How is he?”

Tony shrugs, a sudden lump monopolizing in his throat. “He’ll be okay.”

“Has he woken up yet?”

“No.”

Steve sighs. He limps to Tony’s side, but still manages to keep some distance. “He was brave today.”

“If by brave you mean dumb, then yes.”

“He saved our lives. We both know that you wouldn’t have been able to blast out of there by yourself.”

Dread sits heavy in Tony’s gut, because it’s true. He would’ve said anything to get Peter to safety. His blasters weren’t recharging. Weren’t even close to functioning.

But the kid had been too selfless for his lie. Really, Tony shouldn’t be surprised.

And now every time he closes his eyes he sees Peter. Hurt, small, Peter. Jerking with the last of his energy to free Tony. Of going limp in the water, no more air leaving his lips and remaining totally unresponsive as Tony fought to return the life to him.

“I wish it didn’t have to be him,” Tony says.

“But it is. It was.”

“I know.”

Steve lays a hand on Tony’s shoulder. He’s too tired to flinch away from it. “Let me know when he wakes up.”

And then he leaves.

Tony runs his thumb over Peter’s knuckles. “Wake up,” he says. Pleads.

But with his usual stubbornness, Peter doesn’t show signs of waking for another hour. First his fingers twitch. Then he groans. His eyelids flutter and Tony nearly collapses in his relief. Soft and weary eyes turn to find him, and Peter’s lips turn into a smile.

“You’re okay,” he murmurs.

“You have no idea how angry I am with you right now,” Tony says, but any heat behind his words is lost behind his relief. Peter must see it because his smile only widens.

“You don’ look angry.”

“Furious?”

“Nope.”

“Enraged?”

Peter laughs, then winces. He looks down and notices Tony’s hand clamped on his own. “I’m really glad you’re okay.”

“Well, the feeling’s mutual.”

Peter looks up. Tony tightens his hold.

“Maybe I don’t have Parker luck after all.”

“We’re breaking the cycle,” Tony agrees. He lifts Peter’s hand and presses a firm kiss to the back of his hand. Peter smiles again.

“Pepper told me you bought a parenting book,” he says, eyes drooping.

“That woman is nothing but a liar.”

“Mm. I believe her.”

“Sorry to break it to you kid, but whoever would want to willingly parent a danger seeking, heart attack inducing kid like you would have to be crazy.”

Peter squeezes Tony’s hand. “Sorry to break it to you, but I guess that means you're crazy.”

Tony’s heart compresses with warmth. “Yeah kid,” he says, “I guess I am.”

And he wouldn’t have it any other way.

[itsmoonphobic]

Dream SMP characters and my interpretation of them:

-Techno: The smell of Dirt and soil,blood,wine and old books. Silk pillowcases,golden jewelry,mosaics,stained fingertips, grand staircases,scented candles,storyteller,lazy smiles, secretive,slow dancing,sad resting face,elegant language,cold weather,confident,doubts himself,philosophy, messy braids,glowdust flakes, poetry,graceful movements,neat and cursive handwriting, greek mythology, oriental music,pale skin,libraries,sarcasm, long-lasting friendships,quotes,frosted windows,layering clothes, know-it-all,rude but endearing,pile of papers,cherry blossoms,muted colors,overthinks everything,devotion,logical thinking,insomniac,scattered mind,castle walls,laid back,tired eyes,long debates,show over tell,lingering touches,rulebreaker, dirty palms,old movies freezing feet,old habits,late nights studying,early riser,skips meals,eye bags,tea with milk,velvet jackets,dimly lit by streetlights,ancient wood floors,flowy curtains,art museums, gravely morning voice,echos in the middle of nowhere,sleepy whispers,nostalgia everywhere,red lipstick stains,loves animal more than people,calm and quiet, healing stones,parked car conversations,sharp jaw,obsessed with memes,violins,doves, doves,floats instead of walks,unbroken promises,twisting and winding hair around fingers,nail biting, repeating phrases,mist secret scars,rumors,always wearing earphones,metaphorical, emotions fragile as a flower, speaks with his eyes,fluttery eyelashes,dog lover,forehead kisses,calligraphy,pretty knives,cares too much,lopsided grins,messy desks,talks for hours no,rolling his eyes all the time,powerful strides,wants to conquer the world,slender hands,good grades, dusty book covers,wax stamped envelopes,vintage mirrors

-Phil: The smell of cold air,pine trees and sandalwood.Dead birds and mothballs,stops on the sidewalk to make sure nobody is left behind,morning person,herbal teas,crows,eats breakfast outside,constellations,family portraits on walls, chirping and whistling,crime documentaries,cool father figure, graveyards,weeping angels,meteor shower,many friends but only a single close one,contagious laugh,fragile teacups,fog, early mornings,fuzzy blankets,springs of thyme,bare feet, empty streets,rosemary stems,flickering lanterns,burnt wood bowls,feather collector,antique silverware,a sky full of stars, skylights,torn pages,overstuffed bookshelves,makes you feel comfortable whenever you talk to him,organized,full of ideas, believes in magic,gives the best advice,lost in his own way, warm hugs,scrapbooks and bullet journals,old cars,soft features,daydreaming,bright eyes,getting lost in the woods,moonlight,self knitted sweaters, stargazing on tailgates,the universe,hand in hand with wandering hearts, garage sales,questioning life but feeling at peace,attic bedrooms and haylofts,pursuing science and desiring art, photo albums,hopeless romantic,dark chocolate,open windows and quirky morning rituals,actually knows what brunch is, succulents,a kind-hearted loner,free-spirit,plaid button-ups, always ready to let you rant,abandons projects quickly, complicated past,bold moves,goes with the flow,aims for things that seem unachievable,lives in extremes,knowing smiles,constantly busy with something new,soft touches,love at first sight,naps alot,subsequent tea stains,sparkly eyes, abandoned barns,handwritten notes,feather quills,fascination with the sky,whispering secrets to the wind,great with kids, takes a backpack everywhere,hugs trees,big winter coats,road trips,knows tons of medical info,bites his nails,comforting presence,lost souls,city lights from a high rise

-Wilbur: The smell of fire,smoke,caramel and coffee. Stands up for people who can't for themselves,emotional wreck,loves his family too much but still yells at them,soft turtlenecks,sits in different spots every time he eats dinner,chipped nailpolish, songwriter,probably depressed,wakes up in the middle of the night to write down random thoughts,heartbroken teenager songs,dark psychology and deep meanings,globes and maps, wants to travel and make lots of memories,curls of steam, earbuds in,spattered ink,good singer,keeps to himself,old music and dusty vinyl,the type of person that you could stare at for hours,loud laugh,ride or die,dreams about his future, believes in fresh starts and new beginnings, messy and tangled hair,summer nights,soft features,deep thinker and dimples, having crushes,musicals and theater, half finished diaries and laptop stickers,mixtapes,quirky love notes, secretly kinda insane,always ready for coffee,thrift shops, beachy waves, bonfires,probably drives too fast,cutoff jeans, cream and sugar,nude colors,always creating new problems for himself, fights for equality,long debates and tired eyes, tapping a rhythm and humming quietly,spends all his time on social media,beanie galore,trench coats,foggy glasses,cozy sweaters, dancing around his room to the Beatles,looking out the window when the sun is setting,birkenstocks,guitar strumming on a warm summer evening,bells and chimes,subtle sadness, the feeling of diving into a deep pool,perfect proportions,too many playlists,holding hands,pretty boy,sew on patches and bomber jackets,candid photos,warm sun on bare skin,dancing silhouettes on the sunsets,beach walks at midnight,messy but cozy room,different mood every minute,singing his favorite song at the top of his lungs,sharp grins,haunted houses, paranormal stuff,late night snack runs with friends,explores creeks and lakes,double checks everything he does,walking through hot sand,backyard campfires,acoustic songs,photo booths,train platforms at night,s'mores,sun bleached arbors

-Tommy: The smell of plastic,fresh cut grass and musk. Does the bare minimum at School,unless genuinely interested in a topic,doodles on the side of his paper,movie marathons,empty coca cola bottles everywhere,rope swings,glossy nailpolish,lots of energy,life of the party, kidcore ,can always make you laugh,loves photography,eyestrain and bright colors,bruised knees and untied shoelaces,paperballs in class,brand new red converse,denim jackets,pins and clips,chalk drawings in the middle of the road,every text contains emojis, garden sprinklers,graffiti,wreck this journal,vibrant dyed hair, scribbles and highlighter pens,carnivals,involed in many things, watermelon flavored anything,loves to climb trees,screaming on playgrounds,oversized t-shirts,stained glass windows, anklets,skateboards and hula hoops,milkshakes on the front porch,social butterfly,always in a hurry,pinkie promises,tangled headphones,melted crayons and gummy bears,bean bags and hummingbirds,spinning around till he gets dizzy,chaotic and crazy yet so fun to be around,rushing into things too quickly, roller coasters and derbies,doesn't get knocked back by criticism,cans of fizzy drinks and neon lights,skips school,tye dye shirts and nitendo games,impulse and class clown,sticks stickers on stranger's things,pickpockets his close friends,has to carry a walkie-talkie around with him at all times,sleepovers and sneaking out through windows,pockets full of change and random buttons,stands out in crowds and makes friends easily, pretends to be fearless but is scared of the littlest things,trips and rips his jeans daily,uno cards,social butterfly,music discs, fights with his family but would actually kill for them,broken handwriting,flannels and jerseys around his waist

-Tubbo: The smell of honey,fresh bread and citrus. Lowkey soft, hugging a teddy bear,pressed flowers,eats alot of bread,big hoodies,fairy lights and blanket forts,prank calls while holding in your laughter,beeswax candles,sidewalk dandelions,gentle cuddles on the couch,pastel yellow and cute doodles,flower crowns and diasy chains,plays the ukulele,fascinated by bees and supports local coffee shops,outdoorsy sunshine addict, sparklers and iced lemonade,festivals with fireworks and fireflies in mason jars,homework done as soon as its assigned, watercolor paintings,giggling uncontrollably,long hugs and lazy cartoon afternoons,park dates and forehead kisses,cutting pants into shorts,messy wild hair and pear lollipops,has tiny random braids decorated with golden yarn,hearing the crinkle of leaves underfoot,suprise piggy back rides,adult swim shows and lip gloss stains,being goofy without meaning to,bounces in his step and stops to pet stray animals,baked bread and washi tape bracelets,bike rides and summer picnics,rolling down a hill in the spring and bringing home grass stains on his jeans, waving at someone across a crowded room,spontaneous hang outs and self made clay rings,sitting in the warm sunlit grass on early spring mornings,rock painting and hiding them for other people to find,picking apples from trees but needing to be held up in order to reach one

-Ranboo: The smell of peppermint tea,denim and rain. Is there for everyone but never themselves,regrets things they said but can never find the nerves to apologize,clumps of mascara and winged eyeliner,writes down every tiny thing in notebooks, loves children and their friends,forgetting that they already grabbed a waterbottle,drawing on condensation windows,rainy days and puddles,always on the edge of a breakdown,elevator music and long limbs,old tape recordings and cassettes,moss covered ruins and greenhouses,wanting to be in multiple places at the same time,different colored socks,long hugs and head pats,reading under the covers,collages and spray paint,record players and walks alone through the woods,loves playing by creeks and collecting stones,always wondering and worrying about things they shouldn't,vivid dreams and leather jackets, silver necklaces and piercings,snoozing their alarm clock, seeing the moon in the early morning,blurry photographs and windswept hair,downpours and comfortable silence,wrapping gifts and handing them over with shaking hands,sitting on a rooftop and spontaneous plans,lofi sounds and long train roads,deja vu moments,randomly dissapears and sipping tea, cold concrete and city parks,tickets and brochures from places they visited,dusty parchment and desperately trying to be a good person,wikipedia articles and lace-up boots,often loses track of time while talking to people they love,sings to the radio and avoids conflict if possible,can't sit still for five minutes, perpetually in an emo phase and knows more than they let on, hawaiian shirts,henna tattoos and sparkling water,sleeping in complete darkness and the relief of falling into bed,midnight thunderstorms and anticipation for the coming day,lucky charms and the sound of rain hitting the windows

-Dream: The smell of apples,eucalyptus,vanilla and green tea. Freckles and smiley faces,glow sticks and wrinkled linen, probably a really good singer,wild laughter and jellyfish, popular,tanned skin and cruising with the top down,doesn't take shit from anyone,analytical and self assured,beachy waves and dreamy sunsets,running barefoot,likes being active and on the go at all times,sassy and dramatic as fuck,dream catchers and hammocks,glow in the dark stickers on his phonecase, feisty and a sense of danger,brought home stray cats when he was a child,falling in love with strangers,waking up early and continue laying on the bed,golden hours and 4pm naps,soft aching hands burried in messy hair,center of attention,static and heavy breathing,old percy jackson books under the bed, throwing pebbles at the closed windows of his friends' room, retro diners at 2am,adrenaline junkie and nighttime thriver,will go insane if cooped up indoors for too long,deadlines till last minute,oversleeping and coming home past midnight,naturally a really good surfer,hugs from behind and neck kisses,checking the fridge at 1am,ice cream in bed and cat cuddles,always picks up over facetime

Might make more parts for some of the other guys :)

[the-scooby-gang]

Us... But not quite.

Part 6

Summary: after falling thought a portal while they were being chased by their most horryfying monster yet, The Scooby Gang finds themselves in a place they have never been before. A place called Crystal Cove.

Fred felt like he was in the Twilight Zone.

They were once again on the side of the road. The vans were parked side by side, the tire marks of when they nearly crashed against each other painting the street.

He was suddenly really glad he was not the one driving. If it was his twenty-eight old ass looking directly at his seventeen-year-old baby-face he would have launched the car off the cliff and killed everybody. Daphne would have never let him live that one out.

Said seventeen-year-old clone was looking blankly at them. It was freaking him out a little. Either young him was better at poker than he remembered or-

No. Nononono. He was not even going to think about that possibility. Nope.

He thanked whichever gods were listening that it was only young him on the van. He didn’t think that a full gang meet up would do any good for their already on edge nerves.

“So… I believe there is a logical explanation for this” Velma was fiddling in place, a nervous look in her face. The pieces for what the hell was going on were falling in place but the picture they are making was getting exponentially more aggravating the more she looked at Fred’s young face. Even the ascot looked new.

They had all come out of their respective vans, Daphne being the only that was technically inside since she remained on her seat, only her feet on the outside with her door wild open. Fred and Velma were side by side while Scooby was standing next to Daphne's legs enjoying a nice head scratch from purple nails. Shaggy, the showoff, had swiftly made his way to the roof of their van by climbing one of the nearby trees. Joung Fred, however, stood there next to his open door. Alone.

“God, did I really have such a babyface?” Fred looked unblinking at the young clone of himself, one hand absently stroking his chin, probably remembering the days where his face was smoother and the ‘I’m going to grow a beard’ phase haven't crossed his mind yet.  

“Yeah. Yeah, you did. 100% infant with an ascot” Daphne shrugged, a smug look on her face. Fred gave her a side glance.  

“What do you mean by ‘Did have’? Who are you people and why you have my face?” the younger Fred said, apprehensive. The young man was with his back straight as a rod, one foot towards them and the other towards his van, one breath away from dashing back to the stirring wheel and hightail the hell out of there.

At least Fred was somehow relieved that this younger version of himself was not trusting them immediately. He would be really worried if any version of him didn’t immediately think that twenty-eight-years-old doppelgängers weren’t a highly convincing masked crook. Not with their chosen career.  

“Hey look, this is making as much sense to you as is making to us right now. For all we know you are nothing more than a bunch of pixels and we are stuck again in that computer simulation,” he said softly like he was trying to calm a wounded animal.

Younger Fred blinked startled. “…What are you talking about?”

“Oh, he is talking about that one time with the baseball virus- “ Daphne started to explain, just to Velma to swiftly put a hand on her mouth, purple lipstick be dammed.

“That is not relevant now! Look, Fred – I’m assuming your name is also Fred?” a nod of agreement. “Ok good. So, Fred, for what I could take out of this, the facts appear to be pointing at-” but before Velma could finish her phrase, young Fred was already taking a step back towards his own van, his face confuse and even a little frightened.

“What facts? What’s going on in here? All I know is that I went out to get my Dad’s coffee and there were you guys coming on the opposite direction…” his eyes suddenly got a glimmer over them, a tentative smile blooming on his handsome face “Is this a trap?”

“God, I wish” Fred sigh. It would be so simple if it was. “Can you imagine? It would be a weird implementation of the Borden method”

Younger Fred assumed a pensive look.

“No, I think it’s more off an Angier method since you are more my clone than my twin brother.” Said young Fred, one hand over his chin, the other pointing towards Older Fred face, seeing the marks of the added years into his counterpart visage.

“Well, yeah. But I’m not launching you on a tank of water. I just arrived here, I won’t know where to get one.” He gave his younger self a once over, making a quick calculation “To be honest if you, I was more likely to use the Deckard method on you than anything else.”

“Dude, if you can barely find yourself a human-size tank of water, what are the chances of you finding the holograms for that one to work?” Asked the younger Jones but with a glimmer of joy in his blue eyes, the previous confusion and fright seemingly forgotten.

“You talk like I can’t improvise. What kind of amateur do you take me for? And also, do you believe that I don’t have back up holograms on the mystery machine?” Fred, the old, arched one of his eyebrows, a smirk on his face with his arms crossed, his chest puffed in pride of his trap making abilities.

Meanwhile, the gang was watching speechless the back in forth between them as if it was a tennis match. Daphne was especially interested in the overwhelming joy radiating from their lover young counterpart. Didn’t the rest of his gang talk about traps with him? He looked like it was the first time that he could share his interests with someone.

“Well gang, I can say with 99,9% certainty that this is a certified Fred.” Velma declared, both her hands on her hips and her lips pursed in mock awe.

Daphne fake punched her arm, a smile in her face. “Shush, don’t interrupt them. Fred is bonding.”

Both Freds turned towards them after that exchange, remembering they were not alone on that side of the road. Turning their heads back to each other, they started laughing, doubling over when their lungs started lacking air. It was a contagious laugh. Fred laugh was just like that. With two of them, the effect was duplicated so it was no surprise when everyone ended up joining in.

After some time, when they got their breath back, young Fred held out his hand

“I’m Fred Jones, nice to meetcha”

Taking it as the peace offering it was, Older Fred took the hand giving it a vigorous shake.

“Hi, Fred Jones. I’m Fred Jones” he snickered “And this colourful bunch behind me is” he waved his remaining hand on their direction.

“Daphne Blake” the redhead waved.

“Velma Dinkley” Velma fixed the red-trimmed glasses in her face.

“Norville Rogers” he pointed to the lanky man seated on the roof of the van.

“Call me Shaggy” he reclined more on the roof enjoying the morning sun.

“and last but not least: Scoobert Doo. Our beloved Scooby-Doo,” he glances back at young him, a knowing smirk on his lips “But you know that already, don’t you?”

Scooby approached the young Fred. Scooby held up his paw that young Fred took without hesitation.

“Rice to reet you ragain, Rreedie”  

“Nice to meet you again Scooby” he smiled at the Great Dane, with earned him a face full of dog kisses unleashing a stream of laughter from his chest.

“So, like, I take from that we, like, do exist here in this world, right? It’s not just you?” Shaggy asked, jumping from the roof, going towards the laughing teenager who was now on the ground, removing the more than 100 pounds of dog-friend from him.

The young man remained on the ground, one arm over his eyes, whizzing like a dying frog. Panting between the still bubbling laughter, young Fred calmed down slowly. Seeing that the young version of Fred was not going to get up so soon, they joined him on the ground.

Laying on the grass with their heads close, looking at the sky they could easily convince themselves that it was just another day in their lives. One of their moments’ in-between cases, stopping in the middle of nowhere, looking at the clouds. If only.  

“Ok, so what is happening here? is it time travel? Interdimensional time travel?�� came the calm question. They side glanced the seventeen-year-old boy in their midst than each other. Shaggy than turned his head to the boy at his right, a smirk on his lips.

“Like, the mystery machine had many upgrades over the years but a flux capacitor was not one of them, man”

Shaggy could feel the hole that Velma was opening on the side of his head with her glare. He was already hearing her voice in the back of his mind saying ‘now is not the time for jests, you absolutely reprehensible man’.

“What Shaggy is trying to say is that, from the moment we arrive at this place, nothing here has been remotely familiar to us. But the few people that we interacted with seemed to know us on a personal level” Daphne tried to circumvent the tension that Velma’s glare was bringing to their small space of side road with a more thought out explanation.

Too bad Shaggy fear of death, always present since the moment he was exposed to the world outside Mrs Rogers womb, was left inside the van because instead of shutting his cakehole and avoiding death: persuaded by Velma he said:

“Like, that is in no way what I was saying- “

“Yes, it was,” Daphne said between her teeth, trying once again to avoid seeing Velma yeet Shaggy into the ocean.

“Nu huh”

“Yun huh”

“Nu huh”

“Yun huh”

“Ignore them, they are five years old,” Fred said, hugging Velma in hopes of changing the course of the conversation and diminishing the death glare. It appeared to be working. Not before Velma smacking the back of the young chefs head, of course.

“HEY!” came two indignant yells, Shaggy appearing more offended at the five-year-old commentary than the smack.

Scooby, face-palming himself, turned to his left and put his paws on both of the young man shoulders (that were trembling from suppressed giggles. At least he was founding their weird dynamic entertaining) and looked him directly in the eyes.

“Rook, Rreddie we come from a rlace ralled Roolsville.  Rhere is no Rristal Rove any rhere” he said, hoping that a more direct approach was what they needed at the moment.

There was a beat of silence. Fred, the younger, was looking at Scooby like he had grown a second head. He looked around, seeing all those faces that were so familiar and at the same time so different. He swallowed the lump that formed in his throat.

“…Please tell me that I understood him wrong and that you guys don’t come from a place called Roolsville.” he pleaded, for the sake of his sanity, that he had misheard the entire thing.

Another prolonged silence.

“You did understand him wrong,” Velma said.

“Oh, that’s a relief-“

“Its actually Coolsville. A town in Ohio”

He blinked slowly. Looking at Velma’s eyes, he pinched himself. When nothing happened, Fred, the youngest started shaking his head in disbelieve.

“…Ohio?”

“Yeah, I know, not ideal. But it’s home so we make the best of it” Shaggy head said from its new location over Daphne’s lap, her hands carting through his hair.

They noticed that young Fred was completely indifferent to their position. Good news, then. His gang at least was the bunch of cuddly bugs that they were.

“It has been a while since we went back home, come to think of it” Daphne mused, French braiding the shaggy hair under fingers.

“We cleared most of the mysteries there, anyway. I think the crooks in our universe may be a bunch of idiots but they are not stupid.” Velma added, snuggling closer to older Fred, Scooby laying over their legs.

“Yeah, to attack the home town of international mystery solvers is the peak of dumb moves” Fred, the ancient, theorized. His lovers nodded. Yeah, that makes sense.

“International?” the small voice got them by surprise. They turned once again to Fred, the infant, laying there spread eagle looking into the sky like he was expecting the heavens to open up and the Archangel Gabriel to come and announce the second coming of Crist.

Older Fred’s face softened. He was suddenly faced with his counterpart age. At age seventeen he could barely imagine how his life was going to go, much least its outcome. Mystery solving had been a childhood passion, but no one, much less himself, could have imagined how much it would grow. Little him probably had his entire world scale vastly amplified in just a fraction of a second.

The possibilities must look so much vaster for him now.

“You betcha, Little Me. Samurai ghosts in Japan, an army of mummies in Egypt,” he said softly, looking at his own young eyes “Hell, is not even international any more. Not after that case on the moon base.”

“Interplanetary mystery solvers, baby!” crooned Daphne receiving the softest cheers from Velma and Shaggy. Scooby let out a melodic howl. Older Fred was pleased that they were all in the same wavelength. That this moment was earth-shattering to his younger self, it deserves a careful approach.

“…Interplanetary mysteries… Interplanetary traps.” Fred, the younger, eyes were sparkling, thinking about all the new plans, terrains to explore and exploit for hiding places, exotic ropes and knots techniques. He was practically vibrating.

The gang laughed good-heartedly. Yup. This was now a 100% certified Fred, no doubt about it.

One by one they got up, Older Fred helping his dreamer self from the ground. The young man was still light years away from them, his eyes big and full of ideas, a goofy smile on his face.

Older Fred giggled and, patting his younger self’s back, he said:

“Oh yeah, all the interplanetary traps. I even made my own traps! Patents and all.”

“What, really???” If the boy was vibrating before, now he was almost phasing out of the dimension altogether. His smile was so bright that it could bring sight back for a born blind man seven times over. It made a mirror smile bloom in his own face.

“Yeah, man. The Jones method for trapping masked criminals.” He looked at the excited boy, who was smiling as if the government had decided that the Leap Year date was replaced and instead of the 29 th of February they added the 32 th of October: Halloween, Part 2, and fell in his heart the same tug of longing that he felt looking at any children of the places that they visited.

They had talked about it. They joked at the dead of the night. It was too soon, they know. But what was so bad in speculation? Thinking about how many. Who was going to carry it? Should they give adoption a shot? Should they give magical baby incubation a thought? That was one of Daphne’s favourite ideas yet. She was mesmerised by the idea of a baby growing on a cabbage (from what Gran had told them it could be any plant really. The popular now was pumpkins and peaches surprisingly enough). Mashing last names together in hopes that their hypothetical children would have a nice-sounding one was a nice pastime when stuck in the road for hours.

Blake-Dinkley-Roger-Jones was the one with the best ring to it, they had decided one drunk night in Paris, perched on the Eiffel Tower balcony disregarding gravity and death (such was the power of wine) then getting away from the edge to waltz to non-existing music, smiling with glee.

They changed the order again the very next morning. What was the fun in sticking to any order anyway?

Shaking his head away from the warm memory, Older Fred passed his arm over his younger self shoulders, noticing that he was, at least, one head taller than him.

Oh, yeah. The second grown spur. He spent an entire year of college getting used to his way longer limbs all over again.

“Tell you what: We go to this Crystal Cove town together and I tell you all about it.”

Younger Fred looked up at him.

“…Will you?” his voice was small. Why was his voice so small?

“Yeah.” There was a sudden felling on his belly. He didn’t like it. He didn’t know what it was but something suddenly was felling off. Why was his voice so small? “We can even try to make a new one together” he suggested, ignoring the felling for now. Maybe it was nothing. It was probably nothing. Maybe.

Little him lighted up like a tree on Christmas, nodding his head so hard he was afraid it was going to roll right of his shoulders.

“Everything is nice, everything is great, but don’t you guys think is going to be a little of an eyesore, not one both TWO mystery machines parading down the street?” asked Daphne, her voice coming from the middle of the clearing where both vans were parallel parked next to each other, breaking the moment.

“Yeah, that would be a sight to see” Velma grimaced.

“Dude, ‘sight to see’? That amount of groovy energy is going to obliterate people on impact” Shaggy and Scooby were looking at both vans with calculating eyes, as if they were questioning if such a thing was possible.

With the way their lives are going so far? It was possible.

“Well, we have two options right now. Option A: Keep it quiet for now. Once we acclimate to the town and the people acclimate to us because let’s face it, trying to keep our existence a secret is going to backfire phenomenally on our asses and cause more trouble than it is worth it.” Velma said, her ‘I’m planning’ pose in full display.

“Option B is:” came the voice from the back from one of the vans. Suddenly, Daphne kicked the backdoors wild open shouting “HELLOOOOO CRYSTAL COVE!!! GET READY FOR TROUBLE AND MAKE IT DOUBLE!!! MYSTERY INCORPORATED IS NOW COMING TWICE AS STRONG!!!” she struck a pose, Shaggy and Scooby throwing confetti over her head while Fred made fake sounds of trumpets. They dissolved in giggles afterwards.

Velma groaned, one hand over her eyes the other holding her glasses.

“One day. One day I swear I’m going to kill you guys in your sleep”

“We love you too” were the four answers that she received.

Fred, the infant, smile at the scene. He hoped that his gang would turn up like this one someday soon. The cuddling also seemed comfortable and fun, he should ask his gang what they thought about start doing that.  

“Ok, what if we did like this: Since I know the place better than you guys I can show you the clearings and caves that we can hide the van and we can go from there.”

“That sounds good but now the question is: which van?” Daphne asked, one hand up pointing from one van to the other.

There was silence. The Freds were suddenly looking at each other in the eye trying to glare the other into submission. It was clear that neither of them would give up their four-wheeled babies.

The glare was intensifying. Slowly they started circling each other as if they were in an old western. The atmosphere seemed to change. Mirroring frowns faced each other with murderous intent. They appeared to want to start growling. Nothing good was coming out of this.

That’s why Shaggy put himself on the middle of the Fred circle before any words could be said and newborn friendships dashed. “Ok, ok, ok. None of that! What if, instead of choosing between vans we, like, fuse them? Would that be good? Would you dudes chill?” he raised one arm to each of them, looking like he was trying to convince hungry reptiles from eating each other.

“And how would we do that?” Younger Fred asked, not as much perplexed as they expected and more on the side of curious, but his eyes never left his perceived threat.

“Like this, dude.” Shaggy smiled at them, straightening his back. He snapped his fingers.

Both vans dissolved into shapes of light. They stayed floating in place for a fraction of a second then, faster than bullets, they flew over their shoulders creating a wind strong enough to nearly throw them all over the trees. Fred took hold of his younger self arm while Velma grabbed the back of his jacket with on hand, Daphne with Scooby on her back with the other, digging her heels in the ground with practised ease. Shaggy seemed surprisingly unaffected by the gale. The light orbs circulated one another in beautiful arcs of colour to them merge behind Shaggy’s back in what looked like a mini supernova. They watched the display unfold in front of them speechless. The gang with amazement that the years could not diminish and the new young member with awe, trying with all his might to understand what was happening before his eyes.

It was finished just as soon as it had begun. Behind Shaggy, the new mystery machine laid there, matching her previous look but at the same time not.

For an outsider, the van was just the same as it was before.

But they knew better.

The Mystery Machine 3.0 was, from the outside, a perfect mix of both vans with some key differences making this MM her own. She had the sliding doors of the other dimension gang van, a feature that was not present on the younger Fred version. Getting closer, putting their hands over the warm metal, they noticed that the paint job remained the same but the green was lighter than before and the daises were particularly bright orange. The van had incorporated the backside door from the younger man's van as well. But the inside…

“Like, I hope that you guys don’t mind that I, like, added some things in it,” said Shaggy, smiling with his hands in his pockets.

They were all in the back door looking in. They turned their disbelieving faces towards the lanky man standing behind them looking proud.

“…Its larger in the inside?” young Fred asked uncertainly of what his eyes were seeing.

“Not by much. I, like, made the whole van a little bit larger that’s true, but the inside is just a little bigger than it was before. Now” he passed them and got inside, laying with his arms crossed behind his head on the brand new sofa perched on the left side of the van “I can lay down back here without having to contract my whole body like a slinky.”

“Well, that your own fault for being a giraffe” Velma laughed going in as well. “Did you upgraded my lab?”

“You know it, honey bee” came the lay back answer.

She clicked one of the small buttons on the opposite wall to the sofa. The upper half of the wall folded back, pushing forward a small table full of beakers, flasks and chemicals. The new wall that came forward had a screen in it, a corkboard full of pictures, calculations and trap anagrams, and a built-in magnifying glass lamp. She seated in a small wheeled stool that unfolded itself from a space that opened in the floor. Ok. Not only is the van larger, but it also has pocket dimensions. He can dig it.  

“I thought that only dentist had one of these…” younger Fred said in amazement joining them in the back as well, touching the magnifying lamp. He was looking around like a kid in the candy shop, looking at the upper wall over the sofa that also had some buttons of their own and he would be lying to himself if he said he was not curious to discover what that wall had to hide “Did you add these tech things or…”

“Nope. Most of them were, like, already here. I just added the chemicals Velma was talking about some weeks ago and the magnifying glass. The rest? I’m not the only one that can make things out of nothing, little dude,” said Shaggy, untangling his arm from the back of his head and pointed towards ancient Fred, who had moved while they talked and was now seated behind the steering wheel. He turned around when he felt eyes on his back, seeing his younger self looking at him, clearly taking that as a confirmation that he could also make vans fuse with his will alone.

“Noooooooo. That’s not true.” He smiled at his lounging boyfriend, then he turned his gaze to his now deflated counterpart “I need duct tape first.”

His gang laughed while younger him wiggled closer to him sitting on the bean bag lying next to the front seat, his eyes shining with that new piece information, crossing his arms in the seatback, resting his head over them. Scooby got inside and closed the door behind him while Daphne went and assumed her place at the shotgun. Fred started the van and turned towards their original destination.

“Do all of you guys have powers or something?” asked the teenager, looking at all of them with new eyes.

“Or romething” said Scooby building momentum in his hind legs for a leap.

“Oh no. No, no, no, nononono” Shaggy hoisted his torso up, waving his hands frantically in front of him to no vail.

Like a bolt, Scooby jumped over his owner sending both rolling into the ground. After licking the lanky man face thoroughly through his laughter and the stream of ‘Down, boy, down!’, the Great Dane jumped to the now vacant seat and made himself comfortable.

“Scooby, you cheater that cheats” Shaggy gave his friend the stinky eye but his smile made it lose its effect. Scooby flashed him his tongue them got even comfier. Throwing his arm over his eyes, the lanky man groaned

“I swear to god, I’m cutting your soda supply. Too much caffeine in your system. There is no way that you have all that energy stored in that furry butt of yours”

The van occupants bubbled with giggles. Velma turned to the younger of then.

“Let us add the explanations of what we can and can’t do for when both the gangs are together. These are, as a whole, pretty long stories. It’s going to be easier to say it in one go instead of repeating it multiple times.” A sudden thought came to her mind. She added, “I take that you guys still live with your parents since you mentioned your dad early, so we are going already to say it twice unless you think that we should tell with your guys' parents present…”

“Nah, tell the gang first. It will be easier that way.” He let out a small chuckle “I can already see my dad trying to find a way to turn this into…” he trailed off, a thoughtful look in his face as if he was remembering something. Out of nowhere, he jumped in alarm hitting his head in the sealing. Ancient Fred hit the brake and turned his torso around to have a better look on his younger face, a concern morphing his handsome face.

“What is it, Little me?”

“I FORGOT MY FATHERS COFFEE” Young Fred had both hands in his head, a panicked look in his blue eyes.

“Ah, shit” the unison answer made the young man smile through his panic.

Turning the van around in a hurry, older Fred was quick to reassure young him.

“No worries, Little me. Here is the plan: we go back there, you give me the order, I go get the coffee since they would find weird for you to change clothes between the five minutes that we were there and then we go find your dad, how is that?”

The young man let a sigh of relief “Thanks, Big me.”

Fred smiled at the nickname, feeling warm. And Daphne had to go and ruin the moment.

“Awwww. They are so cute, they already have nicknames for each other” she giggled and cooed at them.

“Shut up, Daph” both of them turned to her, with just made she giggle harder.

“They are talking together now” Velma joined, hiding her lab after checking it one last time to see if it was all in order.“So cute”

“Adorable.” Came the observation from the floor.  Shaggy laying sideways, one hand holding his head upwards, while the other was loosely over his hip was looking at young Fred with a smirk. He winked a feel seconds later, just to reassure the young man that they were just messing with both of them.

Scooby snickered behind him. “Rovely”

“What is this? ‘Bully Fred day’???” Older Fred asked, giving Daphne a side glare while simultaneously trying to glare at the backseat passengers through the rearview mirror. It was doing funny things to his face.

“Yeah!” was the answer he got while young Fred was looking at his older self-face with concerned, his “Dude, is your face supposed to do that?” was almost drowned on the laughter.

“Nah, he’s fine, little dude.” Shaggy stretched until his hand was in ruffling hair height.

“Hey, do you know how long it takes to get it in place?” Fred, the younger, was battling the hand away.

“Of course, we do. We live with the geriatric version of you” Velma shrugged.

“Velma, I’m 28!” He said with fake anger “You’re just three years younger than me!”

“Irrelevant.” She turned her head sticking up her nose mockingly, one hand pointing skyward.

And so, the journey back to the Blood Stake went like that for the entire trip until they parked once again in front of the red light building. Once there, it was a quick go in, ‘I FORGOT MY DAD’S COFFEE’, comprehensive looks from the onlookers, and go out.

Once back inside the van, Fred, the ancient, turned back around and once again they headed towards the town.

“Okie Dokie, now where to, Little Freddie?” Daphne asked, looking at the teenager expectantly, ready to absorb any road knowledge that he could give her.

“Ok. Once we reach the beginning of the city, you’re going to see the arch with the town’s name. From there you go straight. When you see the Fruitmeir’s turn right and then left. You turn left again on the blue house on the corner; the city hall is the biggest building on the right side.”

“City hall? That’s a new one. Does our version of dad work there?” Older Fred looked at younger Fred in the rearview mirror, the question written in his eyes.

The younger man looked at him for a moment, like he was not expecting that answer from him. He shrugged in acceptance not long after because, you know, different dimension him, different dimension dad. He could ask older him for what his dad did later.  

Noticing the silence, the young man notices that he hadn’t answered yet. Ops.

“Sorry, thinking a little too hard there for a moment,” he said shaking his head.

“Comprehensible, love.” Assured Velma, putting one hand on Fred, the younger, shoulder giving it a small squeeze. “Happens with all of us from time to time”

“Mostly in the shower,” said Shaggy.

“Especially in the shower” added Daphne with a faraway look.

Younger Fred laughed. He couldn’t wait for both gangs to meet. He could already tell they are going to be fast friends.

“Yeah, my dad works in the city hall.” He giggled, snuggling his head further into his arms “He is the mayor after all.”

[tardis-stowaway]

Ten years after the Not-pocalypse, Adam Young, age 21 and recently graduated from university:

-Works in a crappy retail job and lives in a tiny, crappy flat in London

-The crappy flat has no sound insulation, so he’s always hearing the absurd amount of movement from the people in the flat above and the really loud but not quite intelligible conversations from the people in the flat next door. It’s a long way to the nearest public park, and he misses the green of home.

-Is not all that good at his customer service job, with the exception that if a customer is irrationally angry about something, he says he wants to make sure he understands the problem and repeats their complaint back to them with this look in his eyes, and they universally back down and often apologize. His coworkers love him for it. Everything else is just drudgery.

-Single, despite his best efforts. Okay, maybe not his best efforts, but some efforts.

-Knows that his childhood was uncommonly idyllic at least partly due to his powers. He’s not entirely sure how his life went quite so off the rails lately.

-Maybe his powers have faded gradually since he rejected his destiny, or maybe it’s just that on some level he absorbed the expectation that being in one’s early 20’s means being broke and a little lost, and the expectation made it happen whether he wanted it or not.

-Or maybe he just should’ve chosen a more employable course of study at uni instead of comparative religion. In his defense, it seemed relevant to his life.

-Spends much of his free time on climate crisis activism. He’ll be damned (ha) if he stood against the forces of Heaven and Hell, the Four Horsepeople of the Apocalypse, and his own birthright to preserve the continuing existence of humanity on the Earth only for humans to blunder into destroying themselves unintentionally through greed and shortsighted decisions.

-He’s been doing this since he was twelve, when Brian sent the Them’s group text an article about the group Extinction Rebellion with the caption “named for us?? :)” Adam had laughed, then actually read the article. Within a week he’d convinced the Them and a dozen of their classmates to show up at the next town council meeting with a list of sustainability demands.

-No matter how many civil disobedience events he takes part in, he never seems to get arrested. Adam suspects it’s his supernatural entity privilege. Pepper says it’s probably mostly that he’s white and great at charming his way out of trouble.

-He’s still friends with all of the Them, but they don’t live especially close together. He does have a flatmate, an American who Adam met at uni.

-At this point you, a genre-savvy reader of much Good Omens fic and meta, are probably seeing the word “American” and thinking that Adam is flatmates with Warlock Dowling. For once, you are wrong. 

-Adam’s flatmate is Jesus.

-Not Jesus Christ, but a young man named Jesus Dominguez, pronounced the Spanish way (like hay-soos).

-Jesus is from Southern California, and he talks more than a little bit like a surfer stereotype. He’s got warm brown skin, shoulder-length dark hair in perpetually-mussed waves, and a little beard. He’s kinda leaning into the look  to mess with people, but it’s also the same style found on at least a third of the other male-presenting hipsters in London.

-When he learned that he was going to share a flat with someone named Jesus, Adam called Crowley and Aziraphale. He’s never been gladder that he stayed in touch with them, because he NEEDED someone who understood how the Antichrist and Jesus sharing a flat sounded like the setup for a joke or a sitcom. Crowley did indeed laugh out loud, then told Adam that as a fellow lapsed member of the forces of Hell, he could personally recommend sharing quarters with a heavenly adversary. Aziraphale just muttered “oh, stop” at Crowley.

-Adam moved to London because it was easier to get to the important protests there, and because he was curious. He spent the first six months desperately homesick for Tadfield. The city was so crowded but somehow he still felt so alone, other than Jesus.

-Then a midnight fire-alarm in their building sent him and Jesus into the streets along with dozens of their neighbors. Adam finally met the people in the flat above theirs who made all that moving around noise. They were an older couple who took ballroom dancing lessons at the senior center and liked to practice at home. Mrs. Kapoor tried to teach Adam how to foxtrot right there on the pavement in the middle of the night. He stepped on her feet, but since he was in bare feet and she’d actually taken the time to find shoes it wasn’t a big deal.

-Meanwhile Jesus was finally talking to the loud young men from next door. By the time Adam wandered over, Jesus had learned their names (Leon, Seamus, and Nazim) and secured an invitation for the two of them to come over to watch Saturday’s football match, and to join their next D&D campaign (“just no more  paladins,” said Nazim). Adam looked forward to finding out whether it was the D&D or the football that was the cause of more yelling.

-As the evacuation stretched on with no hint of either actual fire or clearance to go back inside, the building’s children began to get fussy. Adam found a coin on the ground (successfully picking it up, because Crowley didn’t make it to this neighborhood very often) and proceeded to distract them with stage magic.

-He initially learned stage magic from Aziraphale, but he’s better at it than the angel ever was. He hardly cheats physical reality at all. The kids love it.

-When the fire department finally gives them the clearance to go back inside, Adam’s stomach rumbles. “Is anyone else hungry?,” he asks, to a chorus of agreement. It’s too late for any nearby takeout, but Jesus chats with their neighbors about options.

-Jesus enlists Adam’s help in going from flat to flat gathering ingredients from everyone, and before long they’re serving fish tacos and grilled cheese sandwiches to a small crowd of pajama-clad people. It’s 2 am, but everyone is smiling, or at least has contentment at the edge of their yawns.

-The next day, Mrs. Kapoor brings Adam and Jesus a spider plant cutting, because she thought their flat looked too bare. Adam texts a picture of it to Crowley and receives back lengthy instructions on watering, pot size, soil, and the most effective threats for the species.

-Five months later, the local planning council has an intense debate about why crime rates in one neighborhood have dropped by 75% since their last meeting. They each try to claim credit for their pet civic projects. Actually, it’s because Adam Young has started to love London, or at least his nook of it.

-Buskers soon realize that certain tube stops are generating far more tips than they ever have before, with no obvious demographic shift accounting for the change. The common ground is that these are the stops on Adam’s commutes to work and his activist meetings. He can only occasionally spare a tip himself, but his enjoyment of the music is contagious.

-Even after the breakthrough, not every day is good. On a late summer day that just happens to be the anniversary of the day the world didn’t end, Adam comes home from a protest fuming.

-“Dude, you okay?” asks Jesus, looking up from his guitar. (Jesus sometimes goes to protests with Adam, but not usually the ones where they’re planning on breaking laws. “I’m a brown-skinned foreigner, man. Do you think I’ll get away with what you get away with? I’m not ready for that yet,” he says, and Adam can’t argue.)

-“The media barely showed up at our event, probably because it was about a million degrees and even though that’s exactly what we’re protesting, nobody wants to be out in it. Six of our people passed out from the heat and three got arrested. They still didn’t arrest me, but I got pushed over and cracked my phone screen. On my way home, some drunk on the tube vomited on my shoes. Our green jobs bill still doesn’t have the votes in Parliament, and have you seen the latest news on the Antarctic ice sheets?” Adam kicks off his shoes, then collapses dramatically onto the futon and groans.

-“Sounds rough,” says Jesus.

-“I should’ve just ended the damn world when I was eleven and I had the chance. Would’ve been quicker,” Adam mutters.

-Jesus gets up and goes to the kitchen. He brings Adam a beer. “You don’t mean that, bro,” he says.

-Adam sighs, accepting the beer. “I suppose not.”

-He drinks his beer. Dog, now grey-muzzled and slow, shuffles over to curl up at his feet. Adam pulls out his phone, which is cracked but still seems functional. He’s got a text from Aziraphale.

-“Dear Adam,” the text begins, because Aziraphale might have finally deigned to learn to text but he steadfastly refused to adopt its stylistic conventions, “I hope that you have returned safely from today’s protest. I’m very proud of your continuing efforts, and though he won’t admit it I know that Crowley feels the same. Please write back at your earliest convenience. Fondly, Aziraphale”

-Adam texts back to reassure the angel, who will doubtless pass it on to Crowley, then he texts similar reassurances to his parents and to Mrs. Kapoor upstairs. He’s still figuring out this adulthood thing, but he’s got a lot of parental figures looking out for him. His Infernal Bio-Dad isn’t one of them, and that’s the way Adam likes it.

-Through the open window comes the sound of music blasting from a car stuck in traffic below. Freddie Mercury and David Bowie are singing:

And love dares you to care for the people on the edge of the night, And love dares you to change our way of caring about ourselves.

-He turned down the chance to rule the world, and he’d make the same choice again, but he still feels a certain proprietary responsibility towards the planet and its inhabitants. His father—his real, earthly father—didn’t raise him to shirk responsibility, and he’s not one to cave under pressure.

-Life is hard, people are mostly idiots, and the world is coming apart at the seams, but it’s his messed up life and his idiotic people and his beautiful, half-broken world.

[stonecoldjerseyfox]

Jersey on my mind (part 19)

Mila’s feet dangle in the air as she sits on the edge of the guard post, while looking out over the surroundings. Next to her on the floor lies a bottle of vodka, in case she gets bored. She turns her eyes to the flickering flame of the oil lantern, the only source of light. Besides the lantern its pitch black. The darkness is wrapped around the surroundings like a heavy blanket. No lights are on in the houses. 

Before she put on her jacket, hid the vodka bottle in the inner pocket and went out to the guard tower Mila tucked Juri in for the night. She helped him choose a cassette tape to fall asleep to, made sure he had all of his ‘friends’ also tucked in; the brown dog named Jeff (Mila had no idea why), his soft bunny named Bruce after Bruce Springsteen and the teddy bear that goes by the name Eddie, after Eddie Vedder. But Mila hasn’t been able to figure out Jeff. Who’s Jeff? Instead of asking him about it, she kissed Juri on the forehead and left for guard duty. Daryl wasn’t at the guard tower when she arrived, so Mila made herself comfortable. 

She taps her fingers towards the floor and hums the tune to “Hungry heart”, starts to sing faintly. Springsteen makes her think of the summers in New Jersey. Driving around on hot summer days, the long days at the beach in Point Pleasant, eating tons of ice cream and drinking Pepsi Cola, riding around Atlantic City with Darya and Laura in Darya’s dad’s convertible-    

“You sing well.”

Mila looks up. Daryl has joined her, finally. In one hand he holds the crossbow and in the other two bottles of water. 

“You’re late.” 

”You’re easy prey, sitting like this.” Daryl sits down besides her, lets his legs swing over the edge next to hers and gives her one of the bottles.

”Wolves are gone. Walkers don’t jump.” Mila removes the lid and takes a sip of water. “I think I’m fine.” 

”You’re really good.” Daryl looks down at his knees. “I mean, singing. Your accent disappears when you sing.” 

”Yeah. I’ve heard that.” Mila laughs and puts the water bottle down, next to the vodka bottle. ”It would sound even better if I had a guitar and a cowboy hat.” With a smile she grabs the Vodka bottle from the floor, unscrews it and takes a bountiful sip, before offering it to Daryl. ”I’ve heard you should drink at least one liter a day.”

”Thought that applied to water?” Daryl lifts an eyebrow and brings the bottle to the mouth and drinks, lets out a cough as he lowers it. ”Gotta get you a guitar then, Jersey.”

“Yeah I wouldn’t worry too much about that.” She replies. “It sorta’ feels pretty pointless now. I haven't played in forever.” she meets Daryl’s gaze. “I was engaged to this guy, before- It’s because of him I play the guitar, and sing in ‘American’.”

Daryl stiffens up at her words. It’s barely noticeable, but Mila notices. 

“He’s dead anyway, so it doesn’t matter.” Mila takes a sip of vodka. “My father hated him for encouraging my interest in music. Said it was a waste of time. He didn’t understand the phenomenon ‘hobbies’.” Mila tries to remember what her dear papa yelled at her through the glass. It was hard to hear exactly what he yelled, since he banged at the window, but she could make out some of it. ”Eto chepukha, Milena, chepukha!” she repeats. “Nonsense.”

“Seems like a charmer.” Daryl replies. “Ain’t a waste though. I like it.”

Mila glances at the broad archer next to her. Somehow he reminds her of Jim; tall, broad shoulders and muscles. Jim had brown hair and beard, a bit more groomed than the Southern archer, but still- 

The first time Mila laid her eyes on Jim was during a gig at a bar in Brooklyn. She was there with her friend Laura. Jim played guitar in the band and halfway through he pulled his shirt off. Milas eyes were glued to his bare chest during the rest of the performance. Even a blind person would have noticed such an intense stare down; as did Jim on stage. Afterward he asked her over to their table, and she fell like a paw for the big Oklahoma native, with the pretty eyes and the kind smile. Jim was big as a bear and kind as a puppy. He was warm, had a boisterous but contagious laugh, he was friendly and charismatic. Everybody around Mila adored Jim, everybody except papa, which made sense. Papa hated everyone, except himself.

Physically, Daryl reminds her of Jim somewhat, but their personalities are like night and day. Jim was able to entertain an entire room full of people, and happily did so by telling stories or playing the guitar. Daryl would probably never even think of entering such a room. He’s encased in armor, a hard shell no one seems to be able to break. She hasn’t heard an ounce of bursting laughter from him and he barely talks. And yet she likes his company. When she saw him walk down the street into the Safe-Zone last night it felt like a ton of brick was dropped from her chest. Of course she was still angry with him for some unimportant reason she can’t really remember now, but she was happy for having him back.

“Where’s he by the way?” Daryl asks. “Your old man. Ya’ said ya’ came here together.”

“In prison.”

The statement doesn’t seem to surprise Daryl significantly.

“What for?” 

Mila hands him the vodka bottle again. Daryl looks puzzled at it. 

“If you want to hear about it, you might need it.” Mila explains and doesn’t take her eyes away from his. “There’s a legit reason why I have alcohol problems.”

“Haven’t noticed.” the archer winks at her over the bottle and drinks. “Why’s he locked up?”

“Murder. And for kidnapping me.” 

It might be so easy to say it because she feels some kind of connection to the man sitting next to her, or maybe it’s because the whole world went to hell and papa, Mila’s perdition, her Achilles heel, probably is dead by now. 

Mila was the only child. Her father, her papa, wanted to have a son. Instead he got Mila. Her mother, who loved her more than life itself, couldn’t bear more children and Mila was punished for that her entire life by her father. Papa was stern on her from the start. Sergey Yuruchenko’s offspring wouldn’t be a weakling. Her sole purpose in life would be to make him proud. Like a show dog. He hardened Mila like steel; dragged her out on the frozen river Volga during the winters for an ice bath, a procedure to ‘man her up’. If Mila hesitated or began to cry she had to stay longer in the water. Eventually she stopped crying. He taught her to fight, games that often resulted in cracked lips and black eyes. Sometimes Mila began to cry because it hurt and she felt scared, but he assured her it was a fun game, and she believed him. He coached her in sports, to make sure she would win. Second place was never enough. Mila could’ve easily become an olympic marathon athlete, if she would have had the choice. But he had already set out her entire future. 

”My mama loved me with all of her heart and papa made sure that I never forgot how he grieved the son he never had. It was my burden and my responsibility to prove that I was worthy of his affection. I was a wreck emotionally. Thrown between boundless love and emotional abuse.” Mila pauses and takes another mouthful of vodka. “I got respect from him for the first time when I was fifteen. He firmly argued that if a man couldn’t hit a soup can fifty yards away with a gun after drinking a whole bottle of vodka, he was a wimp. He didn’t count on me, a fifteen year old girl to even dream about trying.” She raises her eyebrows at Daryl. ”But I passed the test and he eased the leash.”

After that summer, Mila had a great year. She was ‘allowed’ to be an ordinary teenager in all its meaning. She went to parties with her friends, dreamed of Leonardo Dicaprio when she kissed her first boyfriend Dima for the first time and she was convinced that life would continue like that.

“Then one day he asked me to come with him on a trip abroad, for work. It was just the two of us at home that day and he was so different. Friendly even. It felt odd, but he was so convincing. He asked me to be ready in an hour with a bag. I felt so excited. Not until we walked through the gate at the airport I understood where we were going. I couldn’t believe it. We were going to America! He made the whole trip sound so exciting. It felt like we were friends for the first time. That I finally had a father.”

Mila pauses. She’d thought about that moment many times since that plane ride. How it all was just an act. How he used Mila’s cluelessness to save his own ass. In reality he didn’t feel like that at all. He didn’t care about her. 

”We were arrested as soon as we got through the passport control at Newark. We were separated, put in different rooms. I panicked the entire time, fought and cried. An interpreter and two policemen came and told me that he was arrested. I tried to convince them that it must have been a misunderstanding. But it wasn’t. I was kidnapped and papa was internationally wanted for murder in Russia by Interpol. Or serial murders, I think it’s called, in the case of more than three victims.”

“How many?” he asks. 

Their eyes meet through the darkness. The only sound that’s heard is the chirping cicadas, the wind rattling in the trees and the thudding sound of the walkers crashing into each other on the other side of the wall. Well, he hasn’t run away yet, Mila thinks.

“Including the policeman he killed at the station the day after we arrived; ten.”

Daryl doesn't even try to hide his astonishment. 

”A woman disappeared in Moscow in- gosh, I don’t even remember the year. Anyway, she was found under a bridge, two days later. Then another woman was found a few weeks later, under a viaduct. Seven women and two men around Moscow. One woman was completely beheaded. I was fourteen when they found her, and my father told me to ’be safe’ when I walked home from gymnastics practice.”

Mila remembers almost all of them by name. They were read out during the trial in New York, while images of them were displayed on a projector. Mila saw their bruised faces, the dead eyes in the pale, straight faces. No matter how awful it was, she couldn’t look away, like passing a car accident. Mila had to watch, to understand that it was her papa, who worried when she would go home alone from gymnastics, he who always urged her to beware of boys in a group (or boys in general), that had done these horrible actions. The youngest victim was eighteen and was found in a shallow part of Volga. They had to identify it through dental cards. In court, sitting on that hard bench in between Ellie and Joe Galka, Mila desperately tried to meet her father’s gaze, wanted him to turn around where he sat, with his back against her. When he finally did, Mila didn’t see a trace of regret or empathy in them.

”He kidnapped ya’ to- what, to save himself?” 

“It didn’t seem suspicious if he traveled with his daughter. I was his ticket out of it. If he did get caught, he could use me as-” Mila fiddles on a thread in her jeans. “-Yeah, I haven’t figured out that part yet. He really knew how to inflict maximum damage to his advantages. Because of his position, working for the state, which is... corrupted beyond imagination, he could change my documents without anyone asking, making himself my sole guardian. On paper, I no longer had a mother. It was- He was so split. On one hand, a well regarded worker for the state, modest and punctual. And on the other hand, emotionally disturbed, a psychopath. A monster.” She sighs. “The same day we were arrested he overpowered a police officer. He killed him, granting him life in prison here, not risking being extradited to Russia. Social services took care of me and I ended up at the Galka’s. The first six months I visited papa in prison weekly. It really fucks you up in the head, being pulled back to the root of evil, to one's perpetrator. In my case, it was the same person. Perpetrator and father. Evil impersonated and the only person I felt I had some connection to here. And yet, I never got an explanation to why he did what he did. Eventually, thanks to the Galka’s, I stopped visiting. He didn’t like that, being out of control.”

Mila had never revolted, but when she had to acclimatize to a new culture and language all on her own, that changed. She could just as well have ended up dead behind a dumpster from drugs, but instead she went on to study at Columbia University. When papa found out that she studied to become a dental nurse, instead of a ‘real dentist’, or ‘the president of all dentists in the entire world’, or anything equally grandiose, he went all mad and had to be dragged out of the visitors room by the guards. A few days later he made a phone call and yelled at Mila for three straight minutes, until the call broke. When Mila paid him a much involuntary visit a few weeks later he’d calmed down a bit; he’d been in solitary confinement since that lash out. 

”Of all professions...” Papa snarled into the handset. ”Dental nurse? A servant! Milaya, why are you causing me this pain?”

Mila pulls herself away from the memory of Southport Correctional facility’s visiting room, back to the present, to the cool, calm night, where she shares a bottle of vodka with the archer.

“As far as I’m concerned I don’t have a father.” Mila meets Daryl’s gaze through the faint, warm light from the lantern. “I moved on. I made it. I got pregnant while in uni and tried to commit suicide. That was a nightmare. Once again I had to... switch on survival mode. I felt so defective. How could someone with a father like mine, someone who’s been hurled between motherly love and fatherly abuse, possibly be a good parent.” Mila takes a sip of vodka. The bottle is almost completely empty by now. “I haven’t had much space for making my own choices in life. Until recently.” she says. “I did some stupid choices on the way here. But at least I turned out... fairly good in the end.”

They look at each other in silence. Nothing is heard but the walkers collected hissing breaths, like a choir of rotten asthmatics, gasping for air, while pushing up against the wall. Sometimes a thud, like flesh against metal, is heard when the ones in the back push the ones in the front extra hard into the wall.

”Ya’ think he’s alive? Or they?” Daryl asks, husky. ”Your parents?”

Mila shrugs her shoulders; she doesn't know. After a while in the weeks following the outbreak, the phone calls to her mother in Russia stopped working. Her father can’t be alive. It would be impossible, just as impossible as it is to escape a high security prison like Southport. 

”What about ya’ foster parents?” 

”I don’t know.” Mila bites her lower lip. ”When the two of us came back to Jersey the Galka’s were gone. So we left, me and Juri.”

”Ain’t too bad, though.” Daryl says, in what Mila thinks is an attempt to cheer her up. “He’s a great kid.”

”He is.” she smiles. ”I never thought I’d make it, being on my own with him like this. He’s my everything, the better person of the two of us; wakes me in the morning, cheers me up and is always happy. I don’t know how he does it. He’s three!”

”And a half.” Daryl smirks. 

“Touché.” Mila looks at him. “Gosh. I’m surprised you haven’t ran away.”

”Why would I? Ma’ old man was a boozer, an ass.” Daryl replies, and his eyes suddenly shift from almost warm, to dark.  “I hadn’t much of a mother. Smoked herself to death, burnt the entire fuckin’ house down at the same time. Ma’ brother went in and out of juvenile. Died, as everyone else.” Daryl hesitates, but then he continues. ”I’m a nobody. Always been. I don’t have anything to run from.”

Mila lays her hand on top of Daryl’s, that rests against the floorboards. He twitches by her sudden move, like a stray dog that has never felt a friendly touch. 

“You’re not a nobody.” Mila says, emphasising every word. “You saved my life. Heck, I think you saved more lives than my sorry ass. Do you always push those who care about you away?”

Daryl becomes silent.

”Sorry.”

”Don’t be.” Mila says. “Honestly, It’s like you don’t think you deserve anything; people being kind to you, that people care. That’s not healthy. No wonder you’re so peevish. Just let the guard down once in a while. You do so much for everybody here, who are so thankful for it and want to show that to you. Let them. You need it. Let people in. Have you never done that?” 

”Never had a chance.” he answers. ”It’s always been bloody knuckles and shards of glass.”

”But does that mean that the whole world is dark and evil? I’ve had a bumpy ride too and I’m not all stiff and irritated with everything.”

”Well ye’ ain’t me.”

”And thank god for that.” Mila smiles a little. ”No matter what your life was like before it doesn’t have to continue being like that.” she gets silent, before she meets his eyes again. ”Have you ever just sat down and thought about what you want? Not what everybody else needs, or what they tell you to do, no matter what you think. Have you?”

”Never gotten that chance either.” Daryl grunts, and continues to look at his shoes.

“Well, do that.” Mila holds up the bottle of vodka in front of her. It’s empty. “Crap...”

“Ya’ haven’t had enough of that?”

Mila puts her head to the side and smiles dazzling.

“I told you I have problems.” Mila smirks and puts the bottle down. “But I’m workin’ on fixing that. Not tonight though.”

The corners of Daryl’s mouth curves slightly upward and he chuckles faintly. They sit quietly for a moment before he once again turns to her. 

“Ya’ really a dentist?” 

“Dental nurse.” Mila corrects. “What, are you surprised?” 

“Not at all.” Daryl replies. “How’s that like?” 

“We'll take that one another time.” Mila adjusts herself on the floor. “I have to save some cock-and-bull stories about tartar and teeth extractions for later.” 

“Can’t wait.” Daryl smirks. “If ye’ want to sing something, I don’t mind.”

Mila smiles. They sit next to each other, watching the night turn into early dawn. Mila sings faintly, to avoid unnecessary attention from the walkers, dangling her legs in the air, while Daryl’s eyes rest on the horizon, wearing a pleasant smile upon his lips.

[winryofresembool]

Things We Lost in the Fire, ch 7

aka Caleo uni au

Fic summary: Calypso starts studying at a new university, but to her annoyance her new flatmate is a loud mouthed mechanic who also likes to sneak his dog in whenever. But as she learns to know him better, she realizes they might have more in common than what she first thought. Eventually, even the darkest secrets come out…

Chapter summary:  Leo and Calypso start opening up to each other.

A/N: A Caleo centered chapter! This is a short one but I think it's important to show a casual conversation between them (smth RR doesn't do enough in his books tbh).

Thanks to Cris for betaing!! Without a further ado, please enjoy and remember that even the shortest comment can make me happy!

Characters in this ch: Leo, Calypso

Words: 1275

Genre: romance & hurt/comfort

Warnings: none

previous chapter / next chapter / AO3

...

“Where are you going with all those things?” Calypso looked at Leo curiously a couple of days after the makeover incident. He was carrying several bags full of various machines, his safety goggles that were often on him even when he wasn’t working resting on his curly hair and a determined expression on his face. “That looks heavy. Can I help you?”

Leo had learned to carry heavy loads through the years but he was still thankful for the offer. “I guess you can, before one of these bad boys fall.” Calypso took one bag and was surprised by how heavy it was, yet Leo had still tried to carry all 3 on his own.

“As for your question, I’m going home for the weekend again. I can do a lot of the smaller projects here but Jo has a way better space and way better machines to do this work,” Leo explained.

“Who is Jo?” Calypso asked, not remembering Leo mentioning that name before.

“She’s one of my adoptive mothers,” Leo said nonchalantly like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Calypso furrowed her eyebrows slightly. “You were adopted? By two mothers?”

“Yep, I was. Got a problem with that?” Leo asked, putting the bags down and crossing his arms.

“Oh, no, no!” Calypso shook her head. “I didn’t mean it like that! I was just surprised because… I don’t know, when you said ‘home’, I pictured you, um, with your biological family. You’ve never mentioned being adopted before. Sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed.”

“You never asked,” Leo said, his face remaining neutral. Calypso couldn’t help but wonder if he was still feeling uncomfortable because of what happened the other day. “But my current family is still more normal than any of the other families I’ve seen so far.”

“I see. Uh, I hope I’m not crossing some boundary but… what happened to your biological family?” she asked, but quickly added: “If you feel comfortable telling.”

Leo sighed, taking the bags from the floor again before answering. “Dad left mom when he found out she was pregnant, mom died, my dear aunt made sure no one else in the family wanted me… End of story.”

“Sorry, I had no idea… That’s a lot to go through for anyone…” Calypso wanted to touch his shoulder or do something else to gesture that she was there if he wanted to talk, but some emotional barrier stopped her from doing that.

“Yeah, well, I don’t like pity. It is what it is. Shit happened but I’ve gained a lot too. Jo and Emmie are honestly some of the best people I’ve ever met and Georgie is like a sister to me.” Leo could have continued that rant longer, wanting to say how they had basically saved his life and how he had felt he belonged somewhere for the first time in seven years when they had adopted him, but the mood had already gotten weird enough.

“If it makes you feel any better, I know a lot about unstable families too,” Calypso said then, stopping Leo’s track of thoughts. “My parents aren’t exactly the nicest of people. Especially my father. Sometimes… sometimes I wish that I didn’t know them.”

Leo sensed the hurt in her voice, and he didn’t ask more. Instead, he decided they had been moping long enough now and attempted to lighten the mood in his own way.

“I hope you don’t think that way about Uncle Leo, though,” he said, giving her a lopsided grin. “Would be pretty awkward to be flatmates otherwise.”

“You’re weird,” Calypso said but looked down to avoid eye contact with Leo. “Why do you call yourself uncle?”

“Just for fun! Besides, my weirdness is growing on you, isn’t it?”

“Nah,” she said, but Leo noticed her mouth was tugged slightly upwards.

“It so is,” he teased.

“Whatever, Uncle Leo.” Calypso said with the most sarcastic voice she could muster.

“When you say it like that, it sounds pretty bad,” Leo protested, making Calypso smile even wider.

“That was the purpose!” she announced.

“Ouch! That hurt.” He clutched his chest.

Calypso just laughed at him. The joke seemed to have helped in lightening the mood and the rest of the way down to Leo’s car went in a comfortable silence. Calypso was focusing on the road in front of them so Leo got an opportunity to observe her for a moment, making a mental note to make her smile and laugh more often. Somehow, it seemed to be contagious because suddenly Leo felt like laughing too.

“Hey. Thanks for opening up about your past,” Calypso said when they stopped in front of Leo’s car, a red Opel from the 1990ies that he himself had fixed. “I’m glad you trust me enough to tell me that.”

“No hay problema!“ Leo exclaimed as she lifted the bags into the back of his car. “I figured you’d hear it from Piper at some point anyway because she can be a blabbermouth… And I guess you two are friends now?”

Calypso considered the question. “Yeah, I think so! I mean, err… this may sound weird but I’ve never really had close friends so I’m not 100% sure how all of this works, I’m still figuring it out… But I would probably call us friends.”

Leo wanted to say: “running away from your foster homes and living on the streets doesn’t exactly gain you friends either” but with the new found peace they had reached he didn’t want to break that. “I know the feeling. Before I met Jason and some others here, Festus was my best friend.”

Suddenly Calypso felt bad about getting so mad at Festus (and Leo) about her desk.

“That reminds me, when you see him, could you apologize to him? For me yelling when we first met?”

“So, you’re more ready to apologize to a dog than me?” Leo asked, but not seriously. “Where’s my apology?”

Calypso had an urge to roll her eyes. “Oh you big baby, you don’t deserve one. After all, you’re the one who was responsible for him.”

“Har har.”

Calypso’s voice softened. “I do still appreciate you fixing it. It looks nice now.”

“Did you just compliment me?” Leo asked with amusement. “Super sized McShizzle must have done something right, then!”

“Watch out for your head, it might not fit into the car,” Calypso said, this time only making Leo laugh.

“Looks like I’ve managed to bring out a whole new side of you. Or are you always this sassy?”

“No, definitely just with you,” Calypso stuck her tongue out at him.

“Well, I’m honored. But now I should get going, Georgie is probably already staring from the window waiting for me.” Leo sat down in his car, tapping the wheel impatiently but leaving the door open so they could hear each other.

“Aww, a doting big brother too! I’m learning a whole lot about Leo Valdez today,” Calypso said with a teasing tone.

“Laugh all you want, I’m proud to be her brother!”

“It’s fine,” Calypso said, knowing something about being a sibling herself. “When will you be back?” she asked before Leo closed the door.

“Whenever Argo II decides it’s time to return,” Leo said mysteriously.

“Argo? Don’t tell me you named your car after that ship in Greek mythology?”

“I might have. Well, see ya!” Leo said, leaving Calypso baffled. She wouldn’t have thought Leo knew the myths that well. So full of mysteries, that one. Calypso couldn’t help but think that even though she knew a bit more about Leo now, she felt even more confused than before.

[saintcheesus]

A Modern!Au with a teenaged Arthur and Charles and an pre-teen John! I also posted it on Ao3, it’s called “Halcyon Days” by Foreverwholockedme for those who want to follow the story! 

-------

“John!” 

Arthur raised his hand high up in the air and waved as he flagged down his little brother. This wasn’t the first time he picked John up from school, and it wouldn’t be the last, but he was always relieved whenever he saw his black-haired brother parting from the swarm of middle school kids also searching for their rides home. He came running over to him with a piece of paper flapping in his hand. Arthur figured that he didn’t smile much but the sight of John happy was contagious. John skidded to a halt in front of his brother and immediately held the paper out to him. Arthur read it, feeling a bit self-conscious about his reading skills while he did so. 

“Detention again, John?” 

“I had to go to the bathroom and Miss Grimshaw said no, so I left!” 

Arthur sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. He looked around at the other students who were matched up to their families. Something in his heart twinged when he saw the smiling parents eager to pick up their children. He looked back at John, who had his head down and his arms crossed. 

“When is it?” Arthur found himself asking this question too many times to count and at this point it felt more like reciting a line from a script. 

“Tomorrow at three. I don’t get out till three-thirty though.” 

Arthur put both his hands on his hips and looked down at the unruly eleven-year-old, trying to think of something else to say but sparing John the embarrassment of being scolded in front of the rest of his school. It also wasn’t like Arthur was much older than him anyway. He was eighteen, to the other parents it would look like a kid yelling at another kid. Besides, John doesn’t listen or respond well to lectures and he’ll just do it again anyway. It wasn’t the first time and it certainly won’t be the last, if John had his way. Arthur just sniffed and ruffled John’s hair. John looked up at him and Arthur gave him a small smile. 

“Now get in the car.”

And like the gremlin he is, he launched himself in the car as soon as Arthur opened the door for him. He went in through the backseat but he would definitely end up in the passenger by the time the ride was over. Arthur pulled off and the first three minutes of the ride was spent in silence, with just the sound of the radio lowly playing some country music. 

“Are you mad at me?” 

Arthur’s eyes flicked up into John’s through the rearview mirror for a brief second before they were back on the road. He wanted to give off that he was angry but Arthur already knew and John’s question confirmed that he was nervous more than anything. He shook his head. 

“No, you ain’t.” 

“Really?” 

“Nah. The way I figure it, there was worst things you could have done.” 

“Like piss on her floor!” 

“Watch your mouth, boy!”

John huffed and rolled his eyes. Arthur made a turn and chuckled. 

“But yes. Now come up from back there and talk to me!” 

John perked up at that and there went that tired smile across Arthur’s face again. In a flash John was scrambling into the passenger seat, his book-bag thrown on the floor in the back in his haste. Arthur’s chuckle turned into a full laugh at the sight. The radio was promptly drowned out by John’s enthusiastic retelling of his day. Apparently he was a rock star to his friends after that incident. Listening to John’s day always helped calm Arthur’s nerves a bit while he drove back to their house. He never knew what state their father was in when he came back from picking John up. But so long as John was smiling, he guessed he could find a reason to as well. He made another turn, hands gripping the wheel a bit tighter realizing that he was very close to home. He felt even worse when he saw a police car parked in front of their house. It was the least nicest one on the block. It looked almost like a house where a family could live decently, but all of their neighbors, and the ones that lived in it knew that was far from the truth. He was surprised that they were still able to live in the area. It wasn’t fancy like the suburbs, and it was a step below a cul-de-sac, but it was a ring of homes and Arthur could pretend sometimes that he really did live in a nice suburban home. But he was in a knock-off one because his family was poor, his dad paid the bills just fine but the rest of his money went to drinking, women, and drugs. Arthur worked at a McDonald’s drive-thru and whatever money he earned went solely to John and himself, and the upkeep of the house. 

John stopped talking and Arthur knew that their quiet before the storm was over. He got out the car first and John followed after him. The cop was knocking hard on his door, seemingly waiting there for a while. 

“Is there something you need, officer?” 

The officer looked him up and down before giving him that usual stare like Arthur was beneath him. He was sure by now that his house was the talk of the police station with how many times their dad got busted for belligerence.

“Are you Lyle Morgan’s boy?” 

“I’m the oldest one, sure. John’s the youngest.” 

The other cop muttered something like, “That you know of” under his breath and chuckled to himself. Arthur’s fist coiled but he was able to steady his hand. The cop banging on the door just walked over to his car and opened the door. His father lolled out of the backseat, passed out from another night of heavy drinking. Arthur looked around and saw that some of the neighbors were watching the scene unfold and even though he knew that this was nothing new and they were as used to it as he was, it was still mortifying and painful to have to go through it. The boys watched as the cop swung Lyle’s arm around his neck and dragged him to the front of the house. Arthur quickly moved to unlock it and the cop threw Lyle to the floor like he was a ragdoll before stepping back out of the house. 

“Son, I’m sure you know what to do from here.” The cop said. Arthur, embarrassed into muteness nodded and watched the two lawmen go back to their car and drive away. When they were gone and the prying eyes of nosy neighbors went away, Arthur looked over at John and mustering the best smile he could, motioned for his little brother to go in first. He hated at how silent John would get when things like this happened. He kicked his dad’s limp feet the rest of the way into the house and moved to close the door when he caught eyes with Charles. 

Charles and Arthur are the same age, and they were in the same classes each time, on account of the town being small. They never really talked much, not even after he learned that Charles lived across the street from him since first grade. And it’s not like they would have had time to chat in high school, Arthur dropped out sophomore year to take care of John. He was playing with his dog, Copper in the yard and no doubt saw Lyle’s arrival. He was in the middle of wrestling the Frisbee from the dog when they clapped eyes on the each other. Arthur was glad that he couldn’t see the brimming tears in his eyes. Charles smiled and it made Arthur feel warm. He waved at him, Arthur waved back shyly and ducked into the house. 

John was standing in front of their blacked out father, holding one strap of his bag. When Arthur finished locking the door, he looked at his dad and exhaled. 

“Come on, John. Help me get him to the tub.” 

Arthur quickly wiped away a tear when he heard John’s soft, “Okay, Arthur.” and shed his book-bag to hold his dad’s arms. 

[seoulscenarios]

Playground date with Felix

So, one of Felix’s favourite places to take you on a date is to a park

You don’t know why but he loves visiting them with you

Maybe it’s because he can finally expel all his energy without the risk of breaking something valuable

Or maybe he just wants fresh air, but he adores it

It could also be due to the convenience store food you always pick up on the way

He has an insatiable sweet tooth, so you rarely carry actual food

More like sweets and ice creams and maybe some blue drinks because “Blue is always the best flavour” (I stand by that)

At first you didn’t agree but now you’ll defend blue drinks with your life (mainly because Felix loves it when someone else defends his choice and you’ll do anything to see him smile)

Anyway, on to the actual date

It always starts out the same, with you both picking up food and heading to the nearest park

Even walking to the park, itself is an event because it feels like it’s been forever since you two have seen each other (really, it’s been like 3 days at most?)

And the streets you walk down are filled with your combined laughter and squeals as Felix suddenly hoists you over his shoulder screaming how his baby shouldn’t have to walk

No matter how loud you both are, onlookers can’t help but smile at the two of you walking down the street with contagious smiles, so obviously in love

When you guys finally reach the park it’s slowly becoming sunset and honestly this is Felix’s favourite time to go because;

1) Children tend to not be around as its on the verge of getting dark and he likes when it’s just the two of you, if feels more intimate somehow

And 2) He loves the way the lowering sun hits your skin and reflects in your eyes, he thinks it’s the most breathtaking site in the world

But of course, he doesn’t tell you the second reason because thoughts like that are exclusively for your late-night talks

A N Y W A Y

After Felix swiftly kicks open the gate to the playground (it’s taken many attempts to master this and honestly the amount of times you’ve been dropped on your head is…….worrying) he finally sets you down

He’s already beaming at this point because here you both are, in his favourite place to be with his favourite person

And before you can say anything, he’s already dragging you off to the first thing he wants to do today which is the “exercise” equipment

It’s always exciting for you because Felix constantly changes the order of things he wants to go on

And you always follow his lead because boy knows what he wants and you’re happy to just spend time with him

As y’all reach the exercise stuff Felix slings his bag on the floor and is already getting on that contraption that flips you almost upside down??

It causes you to laugh because of all the exercise stuff this one is his favourite

He’ll stay on it for as long as possible which is never good cause all the blood rushes to his head and he gets super dizzy

But even when he feels like he’s going to throw up he’s got his signature smile across his lips

And boy does that make you melt even more than already, in fact so much you don’t register Felix dragging you off to the next thing he wants

Which is the weird machine that you stand and twist on

Luckily there are two that face each other so you both get on and twist and make funny faces at each other

His eyes crinkle when he laughs really hard at you pulling your worst face and has to stop twisting because if he can’t see what he’s doing probably going to fall

And that brings relief to you because honestly you were on the verge of getting a cramp in your side from the laughing and the exercise

You both stand there until Felix has finally calmed down and you’re happy because it gives you a chance to admire him

How the sunlight hits his golden skin and grazes across his freckles

How it gives his hair, in fact his whole body a soft glow behind him

And when he finally opens his eyes how it gives his pupils a look of golden flecks

Honestly in that moment you feel so lucky and he looks so ethereal you lose your breath for a second

But you’re knocked out of your daze by Felix nudging your arm and telling you he wants to race to the roundabout.

And by that, I mean he’s already running off while yelling at you that it’s a race, leaving his bag in the dust

You just laugh and pick up his bag and run after him as fast as you can

Obviously with the amount of energy he has you don’t catch up, but he appreciates you even entertained the idea with his head start

Rolling your eyes, you stop in front of him and gently place his bag on the ground

To which his eyes widen, and he just says “No wonder I felt so light. Sorry babe” followed by a sheepish grin

His statement is just met with a laugh before you stand on the roundabout, saying he can push you round in return

To which he happily obliges, telling you to hold on tightly and just as your hands grip onto the metal poles he starts pushing

He gets carried away easily and before he realises it he’s pushing really fast and is met by your squeals of his name

Part of him doesn’t want to stop because he loves the way his name sounds when it leaves your lips

He might even say it’s his favourite sound it the world, but he had an even better idea

He lets the roundabout slow down to a decent pace and as you pass by, he jumps onto the section where you stand, placing his arms either side of you and letting that sheepish grin return before saying hi

You chuckle as he looks at you and nudge him, asking him what he’s staring at to which he just shrugs and says “You know the date started ages ago and I still have yet to kiss you”

As he says those words you don’t realise that he’s slowly closing the distance between your faces and one arm has removed itself from the pole and set itself around your waist

You respond by bringing a hand to his face and gently swiping your thumb across his cheeks and the next thing you know; his lips are softly pressed against yours

Felix has a unique way of kissing you

It’s filled with extraordinary amounts of emotion but at the same time it’s so delicate, almost as if he’s afraid he could break you

You don’t realise the roundabout has finally come to a stop until he slowly pulls away from you and mumbles “God I’ve missed you”

And he knows it hasn’t been long but being here with you in this perfect moment makes it feel like it was an eternity when he was away from you

However, there are still more things to play with so Felix hops off the roundabout and offers you his hand

You take it and step off, interlocking your fingers as he picks up his bag and leads you to the swings, twirling you once or twice to evoke laughter from you yet again

Once you reach the swings Felix sets his bag down and sits on a swing, still holding your hand, waiting for you to sit on the swing next to him

As you sit down, you expect him to let go of your hand but he’s fully attached now so he’s not letting go

So, you both gently swing together, still holding hands and talking about the events that had happened to you that day

After a while of talking Felix notices the last stretch of natural light is coming to an end and has an idea

He lets go of your hand and tells you to go a bit harder on the swing before standing in front of you

Of course, you oblige simply because you’re curious for what he needed you to do it for

So, you swung forward a little harder and you were met with a soft and quick kiss on the lips

As you swung back you noticed the goofy smile on his face as he wiggled his eyebrows at you before you met him for another

You continued to swing forward, each time being met with a kiss and every time you swung back you were met with a funny face causing you to laugh, much as you had throughout the rest of the date

What you didn’t notice was Felix pulling out his phone so when you swung back, he could snap a picture of you

And boy did he get the perfect picture, the dim light hitting your face that was filled with happiness and laughter as your head was slightly tilted back

He could stare at this picture for hours, and honestly, he probably would

It would be his new lock screen and you can bet he would show all the guys

But for now, showing them would have to wait as the sun had set and the final activity on your date must be carried out

When you stopped swinging Felix once again picked up his bag, took your hand and let you over to a metal climbing structure

It was routine for you two to end your time together and truth be told, it was your favourite part of the date

Slowly you both climbed to the top of the (not so high) structure and found a suitable place for you both to rest

Felix took the bag off his back and put rested it next to him, finally opening it and unpacking all the sweets and drinks you had bought.

You opened your phone and went into your music library and selected the list “Night talks” then locked it and placed it on top of the bag

And that’s how your night continued

Eating sweets, talking about anything and everything you could think of

Aliens, conspiracy theories, family, the boys, debates about the best member of the Wiggles, you know, the usual

No topic remained untouched from the two of you sat there, holding hands and loudly stating your opinions in attempts to make your time together last as long as possible

After hours had passed and many phone calls from worried friends had been missed you both decided that it was time to go

Mainly because Felix needed sleep before practice tomorrow but you alerted Chan that Felix would be walking you home and he said the manager would drive to yours to pick Felix up

So you both walked back to your apartment, hand in hand, occasionally stopping to pet a dog or look at something in a shop window

But when you finally reached your destination, his manager already waiting, you pulled him in for one final kiss

Thanking him for evening you two had spent together, telling him it was indeed one of you favourites

Causing a grin to spread across his face again before swooping in for one last kiss, mumbling on your lips “I love you”

Which caused a smile to grace your lips as you responded before he ran off to his waiting manager to take him back to the dorms, where he would not stop smiling and gushing about your date

Overall Felix is a soft boy who wants to go to the playground and have fun and be free while giving you kisses and making you laugh because you’re his world

[honeyjotunheim-blog]

the one. (steve rogers)

summary: 101 dalmatians au.

pairing: fem!reader x steve rogers

warning/s: a little swearing maybe

a/n: this is greatest idea i’ve seen from rereading 5sos fanfiction that i saved from my old wattpad account

It used to be just Steve against the world.

He occasionally visits Bucky at the hospital, dropping in a few words and maybe a few tears when Bucky squints at him and asks who he was. He occasionally goes on the blind dates that either Natasha or Sam sometimes set him up on, him often finding them pretty but boring that they never get a second date. 

Human interactions were made, but Steve was still alone. 

He sat across so many empty seats at busy coffee shops and restaurants. He drank countless bottles of wine with no one to share it with. He woke up with no one to wrap his arms around on, with no one to wrap their arms around him. 

That was, until he decided to adopt a lanky, leggy, spotted Dalmatian that was almost as tall as him and decided to name the creature Pongo. 

Every morning he wakes up with Pongo giving him a good slobbery lick on his face or neck and every night he falls asleep to Pongo’s steady breathing and his soft, short fur brushing against his palm and finger tips. He also has someone to walk with early in the morning for a simple jogging session or late at night when nightmares get a little intense. He has company when art block strikes him. He has someone to talk to, even though Pongo can’t actually answer his questions and nonsense ramblings. (He sometimes barks back and Steve would always accept it as an answer anyway.)

Even though there are times where he felt annoyed and exasperated by Pongo, he never gave up on him. Never stopped loving him because he was the only thing that he had that actually mattered. For the first time in years, something actually mattered to him.

His friends tell him to go find a girl, stop wasting your time looking at your dog like he’s going to be there for you for the rest of your life. And Steve agrees with them, even though he replies with his usual response: sorry man, I just haven’t found the one yet. 

There’s always the one that the books, movies, and TV shows talk about. That one scene called the love at first sight scenario that Steve wasted so much time daydreaming about. It’s so cliche, just thinking about looking around a crowded place and suddenly, everything else goes blurry when you see them. The face that was destined for you to look at and love forever.

It’s the type of stuff that’s usually aimed for oblivious and gullible teenagers. The kind that gives them hope about their future wives and husbands, the kind that gives them hope that this will happen to them one day when they’re looking for someone to marry before it’s too late.

Steve’s older than that, wiser than that. He’s aware of the price he has to pay when you let someone in and get your heart broken in the end. But he stupidly clings onto the hope that’s been instilled in him since his teen years, that there was someone out there who will love him for what he was and for what he couldn’t be. 

And that’s when the inspiration comes in. 

He paints landscapes of different locations of where he fantasizes he would meet the one. In the coffee shop, in a restaurant, in an art gallery, in the busy and noisy streets of New York, in a library, he’s done it all. He often does his paintings with a glass of wine in hand, his mind hazy about the thought of meeting the one someday. 

“You think I’ll meet the one someday, Pongo?” Steve asked Pongo one night after finishing another painting. It was the inside of an ice cream parlor he visited weeks ago. Pongo lifts his head and barks twice at him. Steve chuckled, though it might’ve sounded like a choked sob. 

“Good boy,” Steve slurred, his voice tainted with loneliness.

He’s got stacks of canvases resting against each other in his house-turned-art-studio and he’ll forever be haunted by the thought of his dog being the only person to see his paintings. 

Steve is currently trying to find the right color for the background of this landscape when Pongo suddenly runs into the room, barking wildly and pawing at his owner’s knees excitedly. The sudden movement confuses Steve and makes him lose his train of thought. 

“What do you want, you piece of -”

Pongo jams his paws into Steve’s knees harder. Steve pushes away Pongo’s snout that was centimeters away from his face. That usually means go away for Pongo, but the dog wasn’t having it. 

“Go away, would you! I’m busy!” he yells at him, irritated.

Pongo doesn’t listen and nips at the calves of his shoes, bringing Steve up to his feet. “Would you go away if I gave you a treat - alright, alright, I’m up, I’m up.”

Pongo then bites on the edge of Steve’s slacks, dragging him out to his front door. Steve mutters colorful swears under his breath while the dog continuously pulled on his pants. 

“Are you kicking me out of my own house? We just had a goddamned walk this morning I swear to god if it’s another squirrel you want me to catch I’m -”

Steve keeps muttering under his breath as he exasperatedly opens the door. He really didn’t want to be seen outside at house; his shirt wasn’t tucked in properly, his hair was a tangled mess, and sweat trickled down his forehead and neck because of the unbelievable temperature. But his dog had other plans and he didn’t care if his owner had to look good or not.

The moment Steve opened the front door, Pongo zooms out of the house at top speed, clearly chasing something that he’s seen from the window. Steve stands frozen at his spot for a second, shocked at how fast his dog actually was despite being the laziest thing on earth after himself, before making a run after him.

“Pongo! Pongo, come back here!” he yells. Pongo ran back to the nearby park, where Steve just took him for a walk this morning. Steve groaned in annoyance. “This is the stupidest thing - why is this dog making me run in the afternoon?”

Despite complaining about his pet on a regular basis, he can’t afford to lose Pongo - he can’t afford to lose the only thing that will always matter to him. 

After catching up with the dog at the park, Steve’s panting and wheezing. He didn’t expect to run in the hot afternoon. He ran a hair to his now slightly wet hair and rubbed his face in exasperation. 

“Why...did I...adopt a dog?”

“Hey, you okay?”

That’s when he noticed you. You’re standing beside him, concern written across your face like an intricate, detailed art piece. Your brilliant eyes stare down at his panting form. Steve felt his cheeks heat up in embarrassment. You look so beautiful and he looks so unruly.

“Is that your dog?” You nodded your head somewhere behind the both of you. Steve turned around to see Pongo brushing heads with a smaller Dalmatian with a blue collar. Their tails were wagging excitedly as well.

That little shit.

“That giant ball of energetic and extreme, accidental violence? Yeah, he’s mine. His name is Pongo, but he sometimes turns his head when you say turd while waving a few treats above his head.” Steve replied, putting his hands on his hips as he’s still trying to recover from his spontaneous afternoon jog.

You laugh at his reply, and Steve thinks he just heard the best orchestra in front of him. Steve hasn’t made someone laugh in a while, at least not someone as radiant as the sun above them.

“Pongo,” you say, testing the name. “Well, he certainly takes a liking for my little Perdita. I don’t think any other dog has shown her this much affection.” 

The both of you turn to the dogs, who are now shyly nudging each other and licking each other’s faces. Steve swears Pongo’s mouth turned up into a smile at one point during their interaction. 

“I think they like each other.” he says.

You turn to him with a dazzling smile, and it’s enough to strike one of his own. It’s contagious. “I’m Steve, by the way.”

“Steve. So nice to meet you.” 

He likes the way you say his name. 

You introduce yourself with a name he hoped he will never forget. He’s staring at the way your eyes sparkle while you looked at Pongo and Perdita nuzzling each other’s heads when something inside his head clicked that causes him to drop his jaw on the floor. 

You look at him with a concerned face. “Is something wrong?”

“No - I just - I’ve found the right color.” 

He’s found it, on this hot afternoon, the dilemma he’s been fussing about since lunchtime. The star in your eyes seemed to twinkle, contrasting the iridescent hue of your irises. It’s the perfect shade for a place to find the one. His heart slowly starts beating faster when he thinks about you being the one for him.

“Do you paint?”

“Yeah,” he replies. He doesn’t think he’s seen anyone’s expression lighting up as much you did at the mention of his career. 

“Really? Can I - can I see what you’ve painted sometime? Of course if you’re comfortable with it. I totally understand if you don’t want to show me your work I just thought it’d be nice to -”

“No, no, I’d like that. Really.” Steve cuts you off. He can’t stop staring at your eyes, he’s trying to memorize the color. “I’d love for you to see them, actually.”

And in the end, it wasn’t just Pongo who got to see what Steve daydreams about in his canvasses. You came along, and Steve no longer has to paint another landscape about meeting the one, for he has already found her. And she’s here to stay.

taglist:

@buckyofthemyscira @whotheeffisbucky @redgillan @papi-chulo-bucky @buckthegrump @221bshrlocked @angstkillmonger @buckyywiththegoodhair @captainrogerss @captnbarnesrogers 

[marvelsuperfangirl]

Let Me Knit You Something ( Jessica Jones x Reader)

A/N: Since I Christmas is approaching I couldn’t wait to start for this wonderful season. So here’s my first winter- themed imagine. Enjoy :)

New York became the victim of winter. The temperature dropped and snowflakes appeared in the sky, covering the city with his winter attire. You were so happy about this season, unlike other people, like Jessica. Jessica hated winter; like she hates many other things.

" People only like winter because they can pretend that they couldn't make it to work because of the snow and also because they receive presents for free." she always said, when you pronounced winter, Christmas or holiday.

It was her excuse. But honestly, you knew it was because she fell on her ass when she slipped on an ice patch during the winter of the year the two of you met. It was extremely funny by the way.

And you were the complete opposite, you loved drinking hot chocolates, looking at ornaments in the streets and everything you have the opportunity to do at Christmas.

After you finished your day of work, you had the habit to go to Jessica's. You only had a 20 minutes journey from your work to her apartment but with the weather, it seems like an eternal trip into the ice age. The wind whipping every patch of skin that wasn't covered and you almost couldn't feel your face anymore.

As always, you arrived at Jessica's apartment around 7. The glass of the door was still broken and covered with cardboard, a poor attempt to prevent anyone from breaking in and to protect from the cold.

You turned the door handle and it opened.

-" Jess, you really should close the door!" you yelled through the apartment.

As you close the door and made your way to the living room A.K.A Jessica's office, which in reality is just a desk with a laptop on top, you heard a grumble.

She was sitting at the desk, with her signature annoyed face.

-" Hello," you said, taking off your coat, happy that you finally escape the cold.

Another grumble.

You sighed and sat on the couch.

-" What's wrong?"

She tore her gaze from whatever was on her laptop to look at you.

-" Everyone thinks I'm some police officer; wanting me to find their dog or prove that their husbands cheat on them or whatever," she said moving her hands hastily in the air.

You chuckled

-" I guess, this isn't so bad" you said

She hummed, clearly annoyed and got up, walking to the kitchen.

-" Want anything?" she asked

-" Just get me what you'll have" you answer.

You heard clinking of glass and the sound of the fridge closing. Then Jessica reappeared and she handed you a bottle of bear.

You gladly took it.

-" You know, if you accepted some of that ridiculous affair of yours, you could offer me something else than beer." you teased her.

She let herself fall on the couch next to you and throw you a death glare.

-" Well, you also could bring something." she snapped.

You chuckled at her words

-" Right, then tomorrow, let's have lunch somewhere. I'll pay."

- " It's would be extremely impolite of me to refuse," she smirked before taking a swig of her beer.

You found yourself standing in front of Jessica’s apartment’s building, slightly jumping from one feet to another to try and warm yourself up. The wind was particularly wild today and it only add to the already freezing weather of the big apple. At this exact moment, you were, mentally, screwing your friend for her lack of punctuality.

But after a few minutes of wriggling on place like a crazy person, Jessica finally showed up, still only wearing her leather jacket with a simple shirt underneath. Her scarf was the only sign that it was winter and as much as you knew you would never admit it out loud, in times like this, you envied her and her special abilities

With a visible sight, you brought yourself to meet her halfway and by the occasion try to regain some of your motor skills.

« Girl, you really need to read a watch! I’ve been freezing there for god knows how long! »

You tried to emphasise your sayings with a movement of your hands but they were tucked in your coat’s pocket and you had to lift the whole piece of clothes with your movement.

«  Needed my beauty sleep » she mumbled before starting to walk away

Rolling your eyes, you just resumed on following her, relieved that you were going to get a shelter from this deathly environment and some food.

You managed to reach her level and tried to keep up with her while making the most movement possible to warm yourself up.

« What the hell are you doing ? » the oh so delicate voice of your friend came to you ears

You turned toward her and ended up facing a very familiar frown.

« I’m cold » you muttered

At your declaration, she just shrugged and carried on walking. You couldn’t say you were waiting for another kind of reaction.

After spending lunch and the beginning of the afternoon with Jess, she left mysteriously with the excuse of having an important affaire to take care of and you came back to the warmth of your apartment, mentally preparing yourself for the next day that would probably be as horrible, weather talking, as today.

The next day you were sitting at your desk, classifying some papers when the voice of the receptionist took out of your task.

« Miss, stop, you can’t be here! »

You raised your head and looked at the source of the noise and as surely as the sky was blue, Jessica Jones was speed walking toward your office while the receptionist was running behind her, shouting about how she shouldn't be there.

You let out a breathy laugh and got up to make this embarrassing but still funny situation come to an end.  You quickly left your office and joined your friend and her follower.

 « It’s fine Christy, she’s a friend of mine »

Christy stopped in her track, shook her head and went back from where she came from.

« Good job boss, is she always that obedient ? » Jessica asked with a smirk on her face

« So funny, ahahaha »

You just turned away and came back in your office, gesturing for her to follow you.

« What owes me the privilege of your delightful presence ? » you asked with an obvious sarcasm in your voice, while turning to her.

« You know, if my, as you said, delightful presence, bother you that much, I can just leave »

« If you came all the way from your apartment from here it should be for an important matter. Miss Jones never does something for nothing » her smirk was definitely contagious since you could feel one spread on your face.  

« Where the hell does that sarcasm comes from ?! » she asked

« Oh, I wonder! »

« Anyway, I wanted to give you this »

She tossed a plastic bag on your desk and put her hands in her jeans’ pocket

You eyed the thing warily but still went to open the bag and see what was inside. It revealed a piece of soft fabric and after taking it out of the bag, you realized that it was a scarf. You took it out and it revealed a few other small pieces of the same material. There were gloves and a beanie to match the scarf.

You looked up at Jessica with what probably was the human representation of heart eye emoji and let out a squeak of delight.

«Jess! This is… »

She cut you off before you could even finish your sentence

«Stop! Don’t even start all that sentimental crap with me! »

You let go of the clothing items and speed-walked to your friend and embraced her into a big hug that even her super strength probably couldn’t help her get free from.

She was groaning and half-heartedly ordering you to let go of her but you wouldn’t hear none of it and just keep on hugging her like a teddy bear.

When she realized that it was useless to even try to make you let go of her, she just relaxed as best as she could until you’ll decide to free her.

And when you did, you had the brightest smile you’ve ever had plastered on your face.

«Thank you so much. I knew you had a heart under that unbreakable body » you cooed

« Okay, now I regret it… » she said but you were too engrossed in the meaningful present to care about your grumpy friend.  

You’d already walked back to your desk and were putting on the full winter attire and admiring your reflection in your office’s window.

And even if Jessica didn’t show it often, she cared about her friends and had a big heart that she was hiding under her superpowers and sarcastic attitude. As she watches you being all happy with her presents she surely felt her heart melt a little, realizing that it wasn’t that bad to be nice sometimes.

[of-wisdom-and-war-blog]

Autism Awareness

April is Autism Awareness Month, but April 2nd is specifically Autism Awareness Day. Though for people like my family and I, thats just every day.

My brother has Autism, and not just "On The Spectrum". My brother has severe, low functioning Autism. He is 27 years old. And today is actually the 6 year anniversary since he moved into a Group Home where he'll live at for the rest of his life. That fact can sometimes be hard on people like my mom especially, but in reality, we’re lucky that he loves it there. 

I'm 28 years old, making Justin and I only 16 months apart and so all I have known is having Autism in my life. Despite the disability, we love and fought often as normal siblings do, and we sometimes still do. He might have severe autism but he is not physically handicapped, so as a sister, I have a different view point and relationship.

(Inspired by an old friend, who grew up in a similar situation)

Autism to me is sitting in the other room rewinding his VHS tapes over and over and over and over until the tape wears thin. 

Autism to me is getting hit by someone bigger and stronger than me and not being able to stop him when hes angry.

Autism to me still knows his animal sounds that I taught him on our way to the zoo when we were 10 years old.

Autism to me is the boy that pulled my hair because he wanted to sit in the front of the stroller. 

Autism to me used a stroller until he was almost 8 years old.

Autism to me lives in a house with 16 other disabled men, but loves it.

Autism to me actually lives in a different world full of Peter Pan, Sesame Street, and Thomas the Tank Engine characters inside of his head. 

Autism to me is who I have to take care of when my mom can't.

Autism to me is who makes me laugh when he knows hes being silly.

Autism to me is the man in the restaurant screaming, both happy and mad. 

Autism to me has the mind of a 5 year old, the speech of a 3 year old, and the strength of a 30 year old. 

Autism is the man-child that only eats chicken nuggets, hot dogs, and french fries. 

Autism to me is someone that means more to me than my own life.

Autism is my only brother and shows me love by repeating what I say.

Autism to me is the topic that I've yelled at strangers for when I see them give dirty looks.

Autism to me is the number of times that I've had to explain that its not contagious, its not genetic, and there is no cure. 

Autism is what makes me sensitive, protective, proud, and strong. 

As time has passed, and Autism has become more common as the spectrum has grown, everyone wants to help the special needs children. I have soo many friends and family that are special ed teachers and its amazing how many people are so passionate about it these days. I take comfort in knowing the amount of help and awareness there is about the spectrum now more than ever and its only going to continue to grow, I really do. But also, if you really talked to me about Autism, I have a different view point than most others because of where I come from and how long its been in my life.

I think about the lack of help and resources we had growing up. I think about the people that love special needs CHILDREN, but not when they're ADULTS. I think about the men at my brothers group home whos families never come to see them. I think about how my own father had a hard time accepting his son growing up. I think about how terrible people that don't understand special needs people can be. I think about how it took around 18 years to get my brother into a group home because Illinois is the worst state for funding special needs in the entire country. I think about the days and life my mom gives up every weekend so that he can still come home. I think about the people that are scared of him, because they do not know him. I think about how he'll never get married or have children. I think about him as an adult, not a child.

But most of all, I think of him as a brother more than his disability.

April is Autism Awareness Month, but it should be every day, to every one. 

[brattywriters-anonymous]

A Rose In Harlem

OC x Erik story

Based on Teyana Taylor’s VII & KTSE

WARNINGS: Cursing, slow burn, Hate at first sight.

Winter, 2013.

A brisk December day approaches Syeda (Syd for short) in her small Uptown studio apartment that she’s dishing out way too much money for. She rubs her eyes in disdain that the sun is up again, she only just gotten to bed three hours ago, working on her lookbook for her fashion line the entire night prior. Syeda worked hard, and played hard. She not only lived the montra, she loved it. She rose out of her bed and stumbled to her bathroom, conveniently tripping over a pile of the clothes that she wore the day before.

She flipped the switch, the fluorescent light flickered its usual three times before turning on completely as her slender framed mug came into full view.  Her view spanned over her caramel skin complexion. Her face lightly covered with faint freckles over her cheeks, her full lips, and the scar under her right cheekbone that her dog gave her when she was nine. She huffed at the faint mark, the loc of frizzy and curly hair that covered her face moved up and down as she did so. She grabbed her red bandana designed iPhone  from the dresser that was adjacent from the other side of the bathroom door and clicked through her Apple Music until she stopped at her Harlem4L playlist, she decided to start her day by blasting Cam’ron x Lil Wayne “Suck it or Not” She dance/strutted back into the bathroom, grabbed her large tooth comb from the counter and began to lip sync, “Ma, I been huggin’ the block/ That’s right. Hustlin’ rocks./ I know I been puffin’ a lot/ But a nigga wanna know baby girl you gon suck it or not?” Her free arm moving along to every other syllable of every bar as if she was Cam himself, rapping at the Apollo Theatre. She chuckled at herself and moved along to the shower, throwing on her shower cap. She was turning on the hot water..or so she thought. The hot water was out again and Mr. Van Den Berg, Syd’s elderly landlord and the tenant in the loft downstairs, said that the plumber came last month and fixed the issue. She groaned and practically threw on her camel colored Uggs before she stomped out the door.

She swung the door open and immediately walked to her left toward the stairway without looking and bumped into someone. She didn’t even take a second to look back, she just said, “My bad.” and made a beeline for Mr. V’s door. He opened the door before Syd’s petite hand could form a fist to knock on it. “Miss mooie bloem, good morning. Heard your dainty footsteps, I knew you were coming down here, how may I help?” She heard the sarcasm in his tone when he mentioned her footsteps. She rolled her eyes, “Mr. V, the hot water is out again, I can’t shower in cold water, It’s December, you gon’ have me out here with the flu or somethin’!”  He shook his head no and grabbed his cordless phone in the same instant to contact the building’s pumber. Syd pressed the power button on her phone to check the time, 9:47am, “Yo Mr. V, I need him here in the next hour. I have a meeting to go to and I can’t be late!” Mr. Van Den Berg nodded his head and stated that Yasin would be there by 10:15. Syd stomped up the stairs she heard a male’s baritone say, “Yeah, your lil ass neighbor bumped into me, didn’t even look back to see if I was okay or anything, cuh!” That accent, he definitely wasn’t from New York, let alone from the east coast. She twisted her doorknob and mumbled, “Well maybe you need to look where you going, CUH.”

--

Syeda had been pacing back and forth in her cramped kitchen for what seemed like hours, She tapped the home button on her phone. 11:01am Fuck. She thought in her mind. She heard two taps on her front door, she swung it open, and went off, “Do you not think that anyone has a fuckin’ life. You’re over thirty fuckin’ minutes late and I was supposed to be gone by now! ARE YOU DUMB?” This brutha stood at least about 6’2”, about 280..maybe 290 lbs. Syeda couldn’t give a fuck less that she was maybe a quarter of his size. She stepped up to him, thinking her 5’1”, 133 lbs. would match up to him by being closer. She was so busy flying off the handle that she didn’t notice her neighbor across the hall, Ziggy (short for his last name, “Zigler”) and the mystery out of towner she ran into earlier were going downstairs, headed out. By the time she got done yelling, they were at the bottom of the staircase and she heard that voice again, “Aye cuh, Couldn’t be me. I would’ve taught her lil wild ass some manners.” Mystery man was faced toward the door and as soon as he finished his rude comment, he was gone. Syd decided to let that ride, since she figured she wouldn’t see him again, and turned her attention back to Yasin. He raised his eyebrow, and took one step past her into the apartment, still staring at her. “Traffic.” he simply stated then he walked straight back to the bathroom.

--

Syeda’s phone began to vibrate and go off, “BESTIE BIIIIIIIIIIIIHHHH” with too many twin and heart emojis to count ran across the screen. She sneered over at Yasin, he was still seated on her toilet seat reaching over the tub, fixing whatever. She looked above the call and saw 11:52. She sighed and accepted the facetime call. Yani, or Ayana when Syd is mad at her, looked directly into the front facing camera, “BITCH. Wher--I KNOW YOUR ASS STILL NOT AT HOME WITH A GOTDAMN SHOWER CAP ON! YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO BE HERE IN LIKE, 10 MINUTES. WHAT THE FUCK!” Syd palmed her face slowly and sighed. “Yani, I knowwwwww. My damn hot water went out again!” She pointed her phone to show Yasin in the bathroom. “Oooooh, damn girl, I know it’s some other pipes that he can fix in that lonely ass apartment of yours.” Yani pointed at Syd’s lower extremities. Syd scoffed and rushed her off the phone, “I’LL BE AN HOUR LATE, BYE BITCH.” beep beep beep. 

The line went dead. For sure, Yasin heard what her obnoxious best friend said about her box, she threw her phone on the bed and tiptoed into the bathroom. Once she reached the doorway, Yasin turned around and slightly jumped. “Oh, I just finished up here, ma. I apologize, my Uncle was supposed to fully replace this pipe when he came here last month. He came in the week before he retired, I guess he got lazy and patched it up.” Syd crossed her arms as he stood up and flashed his million dollar smile, “It should be good now.” Syd is all about details. Being a fashion merch graduate, it’s in her nature. She scanned over his dark chocolate frame, the vain in his lower arm bulging out, the tattoos covering the areas above it. She skimmed up to his face. Well, his full lips. The bottom slightly larger than the top. Now formed into a slight grin. Her lip twisted to the right in reaction to it. She blinked her way out of her trance. “Okay.” She finally replied. Yasin smirked as he made strides to the front door, making his exit. He stopped at her doorway after opening the door. Syd trailed behind him and stopped in the foyer when he turned. “Hey, uhh..” He held his hand out to Syd. She searched over his extended arm to see the Arabic saying on his arm and read it aloud, “Silence is the interpreter of happiness.” She blinked, looking up at him. “Oh, I’m sorry?” He huffed, “Your name, Miss?” She grabbed his hand and shook, “Syd.” Yasin squinted at the young woman that was quite smaller than him with an attitude of a giant. “You know Arabic?” She nodded, “Moms was from Philly, she was raised Islamic. You?” he stroked his thick goatee and rebutted, “My family is Muslim, My mom was raised baptist but she transitioned when she met my pops, My uncles, brothers, cousins, grands.. They’re all Muslim.” “Alhamdulillah!” Syd chanted as she threw her hands up and chuckled. Yasin couldn’t help but laugh with her, her humor and contagious laugh was simply irresistible. “Well, Syd, I gotta go to my next client..but if you free for a late lunch later..maybe we can chop it up over a nice meal?” Syd stepped closer looking him in the eye, “I can let you know.” She handed him her phone to put his number in it. He started typing away when her phone vibrated twice, signaling that she gotten a message. Yasin paused, then finished typing, smiling the entire time. “Alright Miss Syd. Later.” He began his descent to the hallway door. Syd closed her front door, and ran to the shower.

--

Syeda ran down 125th Street to cross over St. Nicholas Ave to get to St. Nick Park. Stumbling past bystanders and bikers on the pavement with a thousand things in her hand with her hair blowing wherever the wind takes it, Syd finally makes it to the meeting spot that her and Yani agreed to host the meeting. She placed her things with her personal assistant, Myles, who is a big ball of fabulousness; Always dependable and has an incredible fashion sense. Yani looked at Syd as if she was a bat flying out of hell and quickly flattened Syd’s curly tresses back to frame her face. She was beginning to look like cousin It. Syd thanked her girl for the assist, “Do I look okay?” Yani assessed. Syd was in a rush, but she picked a black long sleeved crop turtleneck, high waisted light denim mom jeans, and leather knee high boots. She accompanied the outfit with her childhood gold personalized “Syd” necklace and “Syeda” one finger ring, along with her new Off-White yellow label belt. Yani nodded as she looked up to her face. Syd had no time to put on makeup, but she threw on a red ombre lip, lashes, and liner; black at the top, white at the bottom to accentuate her almond eyes. Yani smiled in agreeance. “Yes bitch. You look good!” Syd breathed a sigh of relief as Yani took a seat on the bottom step of “Sentra”, the exhibit from Harlem Studio Museum that she dubbed the perfect meeting spot for the occasion. 

The crowd of people that had been calmly chatting amongst themselves had gotten quiet and all eyes were on Syd. She cleared her throat, “Hello Everyone, My name is Syeda Mari. I am owner and the creative behind UPTXWN Clothing. As you all know by the flyer..” As she grabbed one from the ever dependable Myles. “..I have a lookbook that I am preparing to drop on Spring Fashion Week in February. As I know, Two months is such a short time to plot a production as big as I am asking for but just based on the turnout I have here, I know it can be done.” “You got this Syd!” Yani’s supportive mom voice sang out. Applause rang out. “But we gotta band together.. Network. Get this premiere party to be the talk of the town. I need my models on point, I need you all to show up to the shoots, leave that ego bullshit at the door. If I put you in it, I don’t care if it’s a water buffalo coat with silk drawls. Make it look like couture.” The hustler in Syd began to come out. She’s all about having fun and turning up, but when it’s time to work, Syd don’t play. Everyone knew it too, from old college professors at Columbia to ex boyfriends who relish at her success that she’s had since graduating. Syd is a go getter. She took a look at her audience from left to right and saw all familiar faces of former colleagues she worked with in her fashion showrunner days, and a couple more from around the way. She smiled at the great turnout and calmed her tone. “I need for the production crew to be on time as well, I book locations by the time. Not by the day. So please. Be on time.” She pointed to her photographer, Iyo. Iyo threw up his prayer hands and bowed. Signaling that he heard her and he don’t want no smoke. “I also need my MUAs to plan the looks. I plan the outfits, Gigi, please plan the faces to go with these bomb ass looks.” Gigi stood up, as colourful as she could be in her loud colored fur coat, “Of course Syd, We gotchu.” As her team nodded in agreeance. “Videography, Semaj..Andy..Lon, We need to set up a meeting after this to talk visuals.” Andy tilted his head upward to let Syd know that he heard her. 

“And last but not least, my PR agent. My amazingly amazing best friend. Ayana. Girl. I need you to get the best of the best people at this show. I need you to pull this final product all together to help my baby UPTXWN come alive!” Yani wiped a fake tear from her face and ran to hug Syd. “Of course, you know it’s done.” Everyone roared in applause. Syd yelled over it, “Okay everyone thank you for coming out! Leave your email and phone information with Myles and I’ll see you all at the next shoot!” 

The audience began to separate into their own groups. Syd and Yani floated around to each one until they got to the last cluster. Yani had to get back to the office so she dismissed herself, “Girl, Martinez is on my ass about my time! I’ll meet them at the next shoot! BYE BITCH!” Syd sucked her teeth. Yani knew she hated extracurricular socializing. 

She made her way over to the group to see Ziggy, a renowned photographer. Even though he works for CNN, he liked fashion photography and was looking to expand his portfolio with the lookbook. Two men and a woman accompanied him. “Zig! Thank you for coming out! Or who I gotta thank at CNN?” She queried, completely joking. Ziggy sarcastically responded, “You can thank Anthony Bourdain for giving me the week off, but I’ll be in Berlin next Thursday.” “Oh, you know your landlord is going next week too? Maybe you two could finally get to know each other, trade war stories.” Syd made small talk with him for a while, discussing a couple of his many travels and he explained that his job is why he’s in the studio across the hall, because he’s rarely home anyway. 

Syd nodded in agreeance as she looked around to observe everyone else he was with. “I’m sorry everyone. Nice to meet you. I’m Syeda. Zig is my neighbor. And you all are?” The woman introduced herself first. She had a pecan tan tone and  a short tapered curly cut. She was 5’9”, thick stature yet barely had a midsection so she was athletic. “Nina.” They shook hands. “I heard you needed models, I’ve modeled for Stussy, American Apparel, Yeezy..Zig told me about your line. I love how you repping Harlem. I gotta be a part of this.” “Glad to have you join us Nina, thank you.” The guy next to her spoke, “Uh..Hello. Im Byron, friends call me B. I work in IT, I do editing on the side. If your videography team needs an editor, I’m available.” Syd nodded, “As a matter of fact, that’s exactly what they need. I’m meeting with them next week, I’ll text you the details.” B smiled and thanked her. Ziggy introduced the last person, “Oh Sy, (Zig was the ONLY person besides her parents to call her that) this is Erik. My cousin. Syd blinked and looked up to his 6’0” frame. She blinked and looked at his face length dreads. She blinked and noticed his mustache, goatee and his thick plump lips. She licked her lips and slightly opened her mouth and before she could speak and introduce herself, that annoying baritone that she heard hours ago rang back up. “Ohhhh.. You the biddy that ran into me. You know, I could’ve been hurt.” he said, putting his hand above his heart. He was completely being dramatic. Syd rolled her eyes in disgust. “You’re a big boy. I’m sure you’ll be fine.” Erik stepped up to her, she noticed a slight gleam in his eyes, “Yeah, I am a big boy.” he grinned and sized her up. “Zig, get your cousin, before I really hurt him.” She squinted her eyes at her last three words. Erik didn’t move one inch away from her. He took her hand, kissed it, and returned with,  “Hurt me, baby.” She scoffed and her hand dashed across his face. “OUCH! MY NAIL!” Syd drew her hand back and noticed that the tip of her red coffin shaped nail was on the ground. Which would’ve been okay if her nails were painted red. They were black. Her finger was bleeding.

--

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Will you take my problems?

Admin Ummie Words - 3k Characters - You, Jae (Day6) Genre - Fluff/ Soulmate AU (slightly) Warning - a little cursing and drinking

I honestly think this fanfic sucks but hopefully you guys don’t think so lol. The Soulmate idea I had is where all of your problems go away when you’re with your soulmate.. corny ik

You finally leave work which feels like you’ve been there for 5 years. You didn’t sleep well the night before because they had you work late. But luckily, you’re working at a café which means you can sip all of the coffee you want.  

You walk out of work with a small cup of hazel nut coffee, you take small sips letting the warmth of the coffee make your whole body slightly hot. The steam from your coffee hits your glasses and makes them get a little foggy. You stand outside of your job while the wind hits you and makes the hair from your ponytail slightly hit your face. But the fall wind makes hits your face making you scrunch your eyes. You look down the street and see your best friend Katie run up to you yelling.

“Y/N! You have to come with me! My favorite band is playing and I don’t want to go alone”

You’ve known Katie for 4 years and she’s always excited and kind of loud. Her happiness makes you happy and her smile is contagious. She’s one of the most positive people you’ve met. You two moved in together about 2 months ago and it’s been great so far. You look at her and smile still taking a few small sips of coffee.

“Katie. Please stop yelling, I just got out of work and what band?”

“oh sorry!” She takes a few breaths and continues talking “I told you about them like a thousand times. Day6 remember?”

You look at her and remember how many times she talked about that group, a local band that she loves. They don’t play shows often but she always talks about the bass player.

“I remember, when are they playing?”

“Tonight at 6! Please come with me!” She looks at you with puppy dog eyes and sticks out her bottom lip. You look at her and roll your eyes and say “Fine, it’s really last minute but I’ll go”

-You arrive back at your apartment -

You throw on a warm outfit and put a few curls in your hair. You don’t put a lot of makeup on and you throw a pair of black heel boots on as well.  

“Y/N... Are you ready?” You roll your eyes and yell back “Um... Yeah. Just need my bag.” Katie gets excited and brings you to the venue. You get inside and instantly look over at the bar and think about how good some vodka or wine would sound right about now

“Katie, I’m getting a drink. I’ll be right back” You walk over to the bar and yell to the bartender, “Can I have a watermelon vodka?”

You sit down at the bar and see a guy with light blue hair and circle framed glasses. He has a long peach shirt and black ripped jeans. He looks over at you and smiles. Of course, you smile back. You look over at him again and see he’s looking at you so you move over to a seat closer to him. He looks surprised as his eyes get wide and his face gets a little pink.

“Hi, I’m Y/N. What are you doing here tonight?”

He looks flustered as he says “I’m Jae... I’m just with my friends. What about you?”

“My friend Katie dragged me here to see a band play so I just need a drink to deal with all of the people bumping into me”

The bartender hands you your drink and Jae say’s...

“I’ll pay for it”

“O-oh no, you don’t have to. It’s fine”

Jae hands the bartender the money and continues to talk  

“Have you heard the band playing here before?” You take a sip of your drink and say “I’ve heard a few songs by them... Have you?”

He smirks and says “Yeah I’ve heard a few”

You see his friend run up to him “Jae we gotta go”

“oh, already? It was nice meeting you Y/N”

“it was nice meeting you too Jae”

Jae and his friend walk away and Katie runs up to you. “Y/N do you know who you just talked to?” You sip more of your drink and turn around to her and say “Yeah... a guy named Jae, he got me a drink. Seems like a nice guy, why?”

“He’s the lead guitarist in the group”

You look confused but you see Jae on stage with his friend and a few other people. You grab your drink and walk to the stage with Katie. Jae sees you and smiles lightly, his band member speaks up.

You look at him and smile a little bit while shaking your head.

“We’re going to play our song called ‘You were beautiful’ hope you all enjoy”

They start playing and you can’t help but move to the beat, you didn’t think Jae could sing like that. You didn’t think he’d be in the band at all. Now you see why Katie always talked about them. You and Katie dance together which makes Jae smile a little bit.

-After the show-

Jae walks over to you with a smile on his face saying “Did you like the set?” You chuckle and say “Yeah, you were amazing. I didn’t know you could sing like that.”

“haha I guess I'm alright”

As you talk you look over and see Katie talking to the bass player that she whined about earlier. She runs over to you and you look at Jae

“Um Jae, I’ll be right back”

He nods and Katie whispers to you

“Y/N I’m going to a party with the group... are you coming?”

Your eyes widen as you look at her “Probably not”

The bass player walks over to you both and asks Katie if she’s ready. She leaves and you stand there feeling way more uncomfortable than you did before. She knows you hate being alone in places with a lot of people especially people you don’t know. You feel alone and like you can’t breathe. You try to force a smile and pull yourself together.

Jae walks back to you and taps your shoulder

“Hey, I forgot to ask but I wanted to know if you wanna come to a party the band is having. It’ll be fun”

“Sure... that sounds cool”

He grabs his guitar and walks back to you, putting his hand lightly on your waist which makes you almost jump but you calm down quickly. It feels nice being with him but it’s also a little scary. As you reach his car you freeze because you haven’t been in a car with a stranger before and you obviously don’t want to be killed.

“Are you okay Y/N?”

“U-um yeah... I just haven’t been in a car with a stranger before”

“Ah well I promise I won’t hurt you”  

You give him a small smile, weirdly enough you decide to believe him as he opens the car door for you and puts his guitar in the back seat. You put your seatbelt on and hold on close to the car door. He gets in, puts his seatbelt on and starts the car but you’re watching everything he does. He notices you looking nervous and decides to play some music hoping it will calm you down.

As he drives, he looks at you to make sure you’re okay. He tries to give small talk in order to make you comfortable.

“Um... Jae, I’m sorry I’m being so quiet”

“No need to apologize. I totally understand, being in a car with a stranger is scary”

Hearing him say that made you feel a little better. For some odd reason... you trusted him even though that sounds incredibly stupid. You believed he wouldn’t do anything to hurt you.

-About 10 minutes later you arrive -

“Oh, we’re here” Jae stops the car and unbuckles his seatbelt. You do the same and wait for him to get his guitar before going inside even though there are a lot of people outside anyways. As you step inside of his house you see tons of people from the show and some people that you don't know. You see Katie with the bass player again. Jae notices that you look upset and asks "What’s wrong?"

"huh? oh nothing..."

Except you were upset at the fact that Katie left you for some guy that she didn't even know. You kind of felt betrayed. You wanted to just go up to her and slap her but you didn’t.

Jae leans in close to you and whispers to you

"We call him YoungK or Brian. You think he's handsome?" You look at Jae then look back at his friend “not my type" You say that while tapping his shoulder a little bit, Jae's face gets pink as he smiles

-

Katie looks over and sees you talking to Jae and she runs over to you "Um excuse me can I borrow her real quick?" You look at Jae and say "I'll be right back... okay?" Jae nods to you and you walk with Katie to the porch for a minute.

- Porch -

"What?"

"I just wanted to check on you and see if you're okay"

"Katie... you left me at a concert with people I didn't fucking know. I got in a car with a stranger, thankfully he didn't fucking kill me and you know how I am in places with a lot of people when I’m alone. You left me for some guy you didn’t know... but I’m okay”

Katie looks down then looks back up and looks upset

“I’m sorry... I know I fucked up, I just like him a lot. I know that was horrible of me to do”

“just don’t do it again. I was terrified in the car with him. But he seems nice”

Katie smiles widely  

“He’s really sweet... Jae seems nice too”

You chuckle and say “He is”

“I’ll come find you when I’m ready to leave, okay?”

“sure”

You two hug and walk back into the house. Katie walks back to YoungK and you walk back to Jae. Jae sees you and smiles.

“Hey, everything okay?”

“Yeah, everything’s good now. Just a small argument”

Jae grabs your hand and you both squeeze through the crowd of people. He brings you upstairs as you look confused wondering where he’s bringing you. He brings you to his room and you look around.

“Why’d you bring me up here?”

Jae turns around and smiles quickly as he reaches in his drawer for a bag of candy and gets two drinks from his mini fridge

“It’s too loud downstairs... it’s almost impossible to even talk to you”

“Fair enough”

He hands you the bag of candy and drinks and sits down on his bed “You can sit down”

You slowly walk to his bed and sit down beside him making sure to keep some space in between you two. You turn your head to look at him but quickly turn to look away again.

“How long have you been a group?”

“Since 2015. The rest of the group wants to tour, but I’m more interested in just playing here for now”

“Makes sense. It could be really overwhelming”

You two sit there for about 2 hours talking about nothing. Jae offers to bring you home since Katie messaged you saying someone else is bringing her.  

As you reach outside of your apartment, you sit in the car for a few minutes longer.

“Thank you for bringing me home”

“no problem. I had fun hanging out with you tonight”

“I did too...” Jae looks down and you can tell that he wants to tell you something. He speaks up and says “Can I have your number? So, we can make plans to hangout again...”

You chuckle and put your number in is phone

“text me when you get back home”

“I will... can I walk you to the door? I know I probably shouldn’t be asking haha.” The fact that he seems more nervous than you are makes you really happy. You find it extremely cute. You both get out of the car and walk to your door. He stands there with his hands in his pockets.

“thank you for walking me to the door. That was actually really sweet”

“You’re welcome.” You stand there together for a moment and look at each other. You want him to kiss you and weirdly enough you think it’s about to happen as he leans in. You nervously close your eyes and try to prepare yourself. You feel his arms wrap around you and you open your eyes and they begin to flutter. You have a confused look on your face.

“Thanks again for bringing me home Jae”

“No problem, I’ll text you when I get back home” You nod as you watch him get into his car and drive off. You turn around and go to Katies room to talk to her. “Katie?”

“COME IN” You walk in and sit on her bed covering your face asking “Am I stupid?”

“huh? No! Why?” You look down with your head in your hands and say “I thought Jae was going to kiss me, he leaned in and made it seem like it was going to happen. Or I could’ve just been overanalyzing the entire situation. A hug is better than nothing... right?”

Katie scoots closer to you “What happened?” You pick your head up and say “I was outside with Jae since he brought me back and I totally thought he was going to kiss me”

“but he didn’t?”

You say “no” and look down and pucker your lips while scrunching up your nose. Katie puts her hand on your shoulder and says “Y/N... I was talking to YoungK and he told me that Jae gets nervous a lot. Especially if he’s interested in someone, he doesn’t like to rush things. So be patient.”

“okay, thanks. Wait... why were you guys talking about us?”

Katie chuckles as she says “He asked me if I knew anything about the two of you so I wanted to ask what kind of person he was. Didn’t want you to talk to a fuck boy”

“haha thank you”  

As you two talk you feel your phone vibrate and you look at it. You see a number with no name, the text says “Hey Y/N, I’m home. Thanks for hanging out with me tonight.” You look at it and smile. Katie leans over to peak at the phone and she smiles too.

You pretty much end up talking to Jae for the rest of the night. He asks you to hangout on Friday and you sit there holding the phone to your chest trying to decide what you wanted to do. “Yes”. Pretty much meaning you’ll barely sleep for the week because you’re going to be busy worrying about when you’ll see him again. On Friday you get up early because you two originally planned to get coffee. You get dressed and wait downstairs for him to show up. Katie comes downstairs and sees you sitting there.

“Y/N... what the fuck are you doing? It’s 9 in the morning”

“Good Morning to you too. I’m getting coffee with Jae. He’s coming to get me”

Katie smiles and says “Really? Aw that’s cute. Have fun okay? Don’t overthink things... and don’t freak out. Do you have your medicine?”

-

“Okay and yes. I have it with me” You hear the doorbell ring and you look back at Katie “I’ll text you.” You walk out and Jae looks at you with a big smile on your face “Good Morning Y/N” You smile and say “Good Morning”

He hugs you tight and you feel okay enough to not let him go. He holds your hand and walks you to the car, opens your door and closes it for you. He gets inside and asks “How did you sleep?”

You look at him and say “I didn’t sleep that well actually so I’m glad we’re getting coffee. How did you sleep?”

He says “I didn’t sleep that well either... I was too nervous about seeing you today”

“aw really?” Hearing him say that makes your face hot and you smile to yourself trying not to let him see. “Yeah... there’s something about you that makes me really happy”

-You get to the café and he has you sit down-

“What do you want?”

You sit there for a second and think “Um... French Vanilla swirl with 3 sugars and creamer”

“Gotcha”

-As he walks to the counter and pays for the drinks you look at him and smile. You look in your bag and see Katie message you “Stay Positive <3”. You put your phone back and look at your pills. You put your bag back down. A few minutes later Jae walks back with the coffee-

“Thank you!” You take your coffee and sniff it letting the warmth of it hit your nose. Jae chuckles and says “You’re welcome... You look really pretty today” You look up at him slightly embarrassed and say “Really? Thank you. I didn’t get to put a lot of makeup on”

Jae looks at his coffee and says “you don’t need makeup” Those four words make butterflies fly around your stomach like crazy. Just four words and you feel like you can melt. He can just look at you and you feel like you’ll just give in to him.

“Thank you. Um did Brian say anything about Katie?”

“I actually think he likes her... he won’t stop talking about her. Katie this Katie that. He drives me crazy”

“haha I think she likes him too. She said she had fun with him last night” You pull up enough courage and ask “Is this a date?”

Jae stops sipping his iced Americano and looks down “I would like it to be.” You look at him and say “then I guess it’s a date.” Even though you asked, you got nervous, just the word ‘date’ made you nervous. You didn’t want to mess it up. You start to twirl your fingers under the table. Jae looks at you and smiles while saying “Don’t be nervous.” He takes your hand and holds it.

You look back at him and smile shyly. Jae takes a bite of the cake you both ordered and then says “I wanna take you somewhere” You look at him with a confused look and ask “now?” He chuckles and says “yeah.” You get in the car and he drives, you look out of the window and try to see where he’s taking you.

30 minutes later you get to a place that’s kind of like a mountain. You look around and see all of the trees and leaves changing color, hearing the leaves rustle as the wind hits them. The wind touches your cheeks which sends a chill through your body. You see all around New York which makes you smile, normally you would be terrified but being with Jae makes you not scared. You feel safe.

Jae walks over to you and places his hand on your waist and asks “do you like it?” You can’t stop looking around and say “I love it. It’s so pretty.” You look at Jae and see he’s already looking at you but he looks away quickly before you can say anything.

“Oh Y/N are you cold?” You keep looking at the view and ask “huh? Oh, a little bit”

Jae takes off his Jacket and holds it open for you to put your arms in. You can’t stop smiling because of how sweet he is. You put it on and say “Wait but now you’ll be cold”

“nah, I have another jacket in the car”

“Jae... normally I’d feel nervous being here. Being this high up and seeing everything like a giant would and possibly imagining the worst thing could happen but being with you makes it hard for me to be scared”

The reason you had the medicine is for your anxiety. It’s been horrible since you were young and it makes things really hard for you... Just being outside makes things hard for you. But whenever you talk to Jae, you feel like you can just be happy and not worry anymore.

Jae takes your hand and squeezes it “That’s how I feel about you too. When I’m with you I feel like I��m always happy.” Jae stands right in front of you and cups your cheeks and leans in to kiss you as the wind is blowing. You don’t feel cold, you feel warm. His lips pressing against yours makes your entire body feel warm. When he stops kissing you, you lightly bite your bottom lip and he kisses your forehead.

He holds your hand as you look at the view “You know how they say all of your problems will be gone when you find who you’re supposed to be with?” You look at him and say “yeah, I hear everyone talk about that”

He looks straight ahead while asking “what if you’re the one I’m supposed to be with?” You look at him and see his hair moving from the wind, you see his eyelashes curling around each other and the light pink tint the wind make on his cheeks. You see how his jawline is shaped and the way his hair goes slightly into his eyes. You see the way his few pieces of facial hair are growing in. You look at him and smile to yourself and say “Then you’d have to be my boyfriend.”

[pretty-eyes-jaeger]

Eren is the spark before a fire. He’s stormy skies and starting fights. Birds flying overhead and comic books read underneath the blankets at night. Freshly baked chocolate chip cookies and t-shirts that fit just right. Lazy days spent in the sun, daydreaming. Laughing too loud and crying too much. Giving life 110% and setting the world on fire. 

Mikasa is a rose, beautiful and dangerous. She’s romance novels and red lipstick. Vanilla and violin music. Flowers in springtime and strawberries. Courage and hazelnut coffee. Hearts made of glass and bones made of steel. Unconditional love and unrequited longing. Words better left unsaid and well-kept promises. Caring so hard that it physically hurts. 

Armin is sunshine, warm and comforting, intense and blinding. He’s blanket forts and imaginary lands with no borders. He’s treasure maps and paper airplanes. Books with worn spines and messy handwritten notes scratched in the margins. Warm sweaters and earl grey tea. Ocean breezes and shattered windows. Crossword puzzles and candlelight. Yelling at a wall until your voice gives out, even when no one can hear you. 

Levi is the eye of a hurricane. He’s 100-year-old trees swaying in the breeze and combat boots scuffing along the asphalt. Black tea and black coffee. Hands that can kill and eyes that can severe. Holding on too tight and reaching for your hand just as you walk away. Dry eyes and bleeding hearts. Calm and collected chaos, desperately held together with bandaids and string. 

Hanji is a streak of lightning lighting up the night. They’re experimenting with the mind and listening with the heart. Test tubes and textbooks. Off-the-wall trivia facts and laughing too loud. Phone calls at 3 a.m. and classroom pranks that go just too far. Not sleeping nearly enough and needing caffeine like oxygen. Hugs that say more than words and words that could out-do Shakespeare. Twisting the world upside down and every which way to find its best angle.

Erwin is a shooting star, blazing bright and gone too soon. He’s hot coffee and fires crackling in the hearth welcoming you home. Paperwork and pens that have a tendency to disappear. Pine trees and the hoot of owls in the night. Watching a thunderstorm from the window and giving your umbrella to someone without one on the street. Responsibility and hope. Dreams and peanut butter sandwiches. Smiling through the pain so others won’t give up. 

Annie is a frozen lake, untouched and enchanting, but chillingly lethal. She’s dark red lipstick and ballads about losing yourself. Cold hands and combat boots. Leather jackets and ball gowns. Soft guitar melodies and stargazer lilies. Winter mornings and angels pressed into the snow. Denial and desire. Knight’s armor and lover’s lips. Reaching out for someone’s hand, but pulling back before they notice.

Bertholdt is the ocean, vast and beautiful and deep and deadly. He’s sweaters warm from wear and hands covered in ink. Reserved silence and soft, unsolicited smiles. Purple skies before it storms and crying in the shower. Ice cream at 2 a.m. and piano ballads played in empty chapels. Books with dog-eared pages and happily ever after reluctantly scribbled out. Attentive ears and guilty heart. A candle burning, soothing and warm and about to tip and ignite the world in flames.

Reiner is the clash of two swords meeting in the air. He’s a knight in shining armor and a dragon waiting for its prey. Walking through the woods and running through the rain. Caramel and cinnamon. Campfires and ghost stories and soothing words when the ghosts overstay their welcome. Inspirational words and exemplary acts. Broken mirrors and masquerade masks you forget to take off. Heroic dreams and disappointing finales. Holding the world on your shoulders without knowing who’s holding you.

Jean is a rain storm, steady and calm. He’s button up shirts and skinny jeans. Rock music and writing love poems on the bus. Too much coffee and hair that takes hours to make it look natural. Cheap beer and nights you remember in a blur of smiles and kissing. Holding hands and keeping promises. Staying up late and talking until morning. Sunrises and autumn leaves falling. Words left unsaid and regrets piling higher each day. Hope of a generation scoffed every night after breaking your back to make the world a better place

Connie is laughter carried on the wind. He’s sunshine and beach days with your friends. Milkshakes and board games. Cheesy puns and cheesier pick up lines. Spring flowers and summer showers. T-shirts and harmless teasing. Toy soldiers and children laughing. Kind eyes and bloodied hands. Crumpled pictures of family members and tear-stained letters never sent. Hugs that lift your spirits and jokes that clear your mind. Young heads confused and hearts a mess, and legs that never stop moving. 

Sasha is the melody of a song, peaceful and filled with memories. She’s taking chances and jumping off the high dive holding your best friend’s hand. Autumn leaves and hot chocolate. Freshly baked bread and mac and cheese at midnight. Good morning texts and falling asleep before saying goodnight. Dancing in the rain and seeing shapes in every cloud. Nightmares that cling once you wake up and exacting revenge on your cheating boyfriend’s car. Pushing through the pain and smiling through it all. Following your inner compass. 

Marco is sunshine, warm on your skin. He’s running through the woods in spring and tumbling through the leaves in fall. Contagious smiles and fearsome disapproval. Chocolate and cuddling late into the night. Cinnamon and early morning pancakes. Coffee that’s all sugar and singing in the shower. Loving too hard and too fast. Experienced innocence and brutal honesty. Bruised and bloodied body and blazing, bright eyes. True kindness and blind loyalty. Too good for this world. 

Ymir is shadows, both cruelly mocking the light and lovingly, silently following after you. She’s harmless teasing and hurtful silence. Staying out too late and waking up too early. Whiskey burning your throat and dark chocolate soothing the pain. Horror films and nightmares that don't stop when you open your eyes. Photos with faces scratched out and love notes framed in photo albums. Hearts hidden behind walls and and claws out to play. Loving so fiercely it threatens to swallow you whole. 

Historia is a windstorm, growing steadily more deadly by the minute. She’s lemonade and mid-afternoon naps in patches of sunlight. Disney princesses and Tarantino films. Christmas lights and diaries with locks. The smell of roses and the feeling of silk on your skin. Floral skirts and high heels. Tiaras and swords. Midnight thunderstorms and veiled smiles. Burned letters and bad decisions. Hugs that last just long enough and hands held far too tight. A tight-rope walker you can’t bear to tear your eyes from. 

[baekberrie]

m i s t l e t o e - bbh ❄1❄

Winter AU, fluff, romance

Pairing: Baekhyun x Reader

Previous - Next

It was a lovely evening, 5 pm, the sun  had already set an hour go, leaving the streets in darkness.

Snow was calmly falling  on the ground, the streetlights together with the shiny Christmas decorations gave an inviting look to the world outside.

Normally you would've ran outside just to spend some time, walking into the untouched snow, taking in the bright surroundings, and enjoy the swelling feeling in your heart while feeling excited for the season.

But this time it was different. You wanted to feel that good, but you just couldn't bring yourself to. Not after what had happened.

You sighed as you pushed the now finished cup of ice cream away from you on the tea table.

For the past few days you had been feeling extremely depressed. You had been dumped even before a real relationship had started, it felt horrible. All you had been doing during these days was crying your eyes out and eating away the sadness with ice cream. Though that hadn't helped that well.

Moreover, it got worse. Comfort eating made you always realise how pitiful you were at the moment. How messed up you were, which added more salt onto the wound. That he had been able to break you like this, in the blink of an eye, you hated it. So much.

Just a week ago you were happily smiling in his warm, strong arms. Who knew that only a simple question about Christmas could've sabotaged everything. You had been so sure that he had been wanting you as much as you wanted him. But apparently you couldn't have been more wrong.

Who were you trying to fool, how could you have thought that Joohyuk had was being serious with you. That he wanted something more with you. He had just been flirting around, maybe fluttering you a bit too much, cause that had caused you to fall deeper for him.

Maybe he just had a small crush on you and knew that it wasn't going to last long. So your blunt request to be kissed under a mistletoe must have taken him back. Yet it still felt unfair, and it made you feel so stupid. You had been so sure that he liked you, how could he just turn his back at you like that? He could just have told you that you were moving too fast. Or maybe he hadn't liked you at all, maybe he was just up for someone temporary to flirt and play with, to later leave them like nothing.

You let out a sigh, feeling how you started to dislike him more and more by every second that you thought about how he had messed you up. You wanted to cry, bet kept it in this time, you had already shed enough tears for an asshole.

With a sniff you looked down at the cute animal sitting in front of your feet, it's tongue hanging lazily out if his mouth as it swung the tail left to right excitedly. Your dog, Kookie never failed to make a little smile appear on your face, with those big, dark eyes that shone cutely.

"And what do you want?" you asked your dog, as you arched your brow at it.

Kookie barked happily and you knew already what that meant, with a groan you threw yourself back deeper into the sofa.

"No way, I'm taking you out on walk now!" You protested, even though your dog wouldn't understand what you were saying.

Eventually you gave in and decided that maybe it wouldn't be so bad to leave your apartment, as you had locked yourself in it for several days. It was time to start forgetting what Joohyuk had done to you and try move on. You knew very well that it wouldn't be easy. You had been hurt by men so many times that forgiving and forgetting had become so much harder, since every time something like this happened, the same scar would open again. In the end it never got time to heal, you could never heal.

You admitted that maybe it was a bit your fault too, cause you easily fell in love with men that treated you well and were nice, of course not always, but sometimes you couldn't help it. It was like you attracted players and jerks, better said, fake people. Or maybe it was the other way around? Nah, you just wanted someone caring, nice and funny who could make you feel happy and special, someone who could make it last.

Sadly enough someone like that had never happened to you. Yet. Maybe God was trying to tell you to grip more dearly of your heart, to not give it away so fast. Probably.

With heavy steps you walked into the bathroom, just to fix your hair, to make yourself a little bit more decent. You had no intention of scaring people on the streets with your messy hair. For the rest of your face you couldn't care less at the moment, you were heartbroken once again, drained and tired, your face was really the last of your problems. And so you ignored your puffy and red eyes,  and went straight to the entrance, wearing your thick and puffy winter jacket.

At last you added a scarf matched with a cute pink beanie that melted perfectly with the soft scarf around your neck and face.

Kookie followed after you quickly while barking enthusiastically, which made you chuckle. Kookie was your only company at home, as well as your best mood maker. He never failed to cheer you up when you felt down and always kept you company no matter in what part of the house you were. He was like your guard, your little saiviour. You found it amazing how dogs could detect your mood and feelings. Sometimes you wondered if it was possible to love an animal as much as you did.

You wouldn't replace Kookie for anything.

As you stepped outside, you could already see your breath clouding into the chilly air as you sighed. Along with your dog you started walking in the direction of a park, a place where you would usually let your dog run freely in. While walking you observed how every step left a trace in the untouched snow, making you almost feel bad to ruin something that was looking so beautiful.

Untouched snow, you felt a bit like it. It looks whole and beautiful on the outside, but in the end it's so easy to break it, to ruin it. Just a single step and the snow would no longer be the same. Then it would snow once more, and the snow would be untouched again, but later on it will have people walking on it, leaving it scrambled and dirty.

That was how people had treated you, and you had forgiven them so easily. But what could you do, you were kind and had a big heart, keeping a grudge wasn't in your standards.

Finally, as you arrived at the awaited park, you quickly released Kookie from the leash, letting him run freely around the park. There were a few people taking walks, mostly couples, you couldn't help but for a moment wish that you were one of them.

Kookie was a good dog and wasn't the type to attack random people, or walking up to them when he wasn't wearing the leash, so you weren't worried about him possibly getting closer to some strangers. Eventually, you  patted some snow away from a bench and sat down on it, ignoring the fact that your pants were slightly wet by the action. From there you watched your dog play happily in the snow, mostly eating it, which made you chuckle.

The sky distracted you, you couldn't just ignore the way the night sky was beautifully illuminated by the stars of many colors, painting the dark sky with its shiny light.

In the meantime you hadn't noticed that a young man had walked up to your dog, innocently smiling at it.

He crouched down in front of it, just to observe it's cute eyes better, the more he looked at him, the wider his smile grew. Kookie wasn't intimidated, nor felt threatened by the person in front him. The dog just stared back at the guy, boring his black orbs into his.

The boy reached his hand out towards the dog's head, in attempt to pet it.

"Hi there little one- WAIT, what the hell no! no! Bad doggie!"  He abruptly yelled and jumped further away from the now standing Kookie. It was just then you looked away from the sky, just to see your dog walking around a boy who was occasionally sprawled on the snowy ground.

You frowned deeply before sprinting down towards your dog, just to attach it's collar to the leash again. You looked up at the boy that was sitting not so far from you, with big eyes he watched the dog.

His blond hair was glittering under the streetlights, as it rested lazily on each side of his forehead. A red beanie contrasting with his hair color. On his now red and round nose rested a pair of oval formed glasses, his eyes were a sparkling dark color, yet slightly puffy, giving him a cute touch. He was a very handsome boy, cute at the same time.

"I'm sorry, did my dog cause you any problems? " You eventually asked, politely.

A little smile appeared on his lips, and in that instant, you swore that your heart skipped a beat.

"Well... Your dog just casually took a shit on my shoes, new shoes. White shoes. But I guess it's okay." He explained, finding it hard to restrain a grin since this situation sounded completely hilarious.

Your eyes trailed to his feet and saw the ugly stains your dog had left on his expensive looking shoes. You gasped and gave him a worried look.

"Gosh, I'm so sorry! Bad Kookie! Since when do you even poop people like that?" You apologized and scolded Kookie frustratedly, at the time as you tried to fight away the urge to laugh.

The blonde boy just smiled at you and at Kookie who was shamefully looking down at his feet.

"Don't worry you can laugh at me I'm about to do it too." He said and laughed directly after. You were sure that so far, his voice was the most beautiful thing you had ever heard, and his laugh was something even more melodic. It was contagious, and not being able to stop yourself, you giggled at him.

As you realized, you brought your hand towards your mouth.

"I'm sorry I shouldn't be laughing."

He just shook his head giving you another smile, making you once more mesmerized by his mysterious beauty. His milky skin making his cold cheeks look redder, his lips slightly swollen by the cold.

"What can I do for you? Let me at least wash them for you?" You offered, starting to feel more bad for the mess your dog had caused.

The boy seemed to think about your offer for some time, as he quietly scanned your face, body, taking in every detail, the silence making you lightly uncomfortable.

"It's okay, I wouldn't want to bother you. You seem to have enough on your plate already." He said and tilted his head to the side, giving you a sympathetic look. Your mouth fell open at his words, as suddenly Joohyuk returned into your mind.

"Wait, what, how?" You quietly mumbled with a deep frown, and the boy just gave you a weak smile.

"You just look very sad and your eye bags are very visible you know? I just imagined that you've been through heartbreak or something similar, so I really don't want to bother you." He said causally, your heart unintentionally sped up as his words lingered into your mind.

You barely knew this guy, yet he was understanding you at your first meet, just by looking at you he had understood what kind of pain you were undergoing. You decided that maybe washing his shoes wouldn't be bad, it was the least you could do.

"Don't worry, really I feel bad, please let me wash your shoes." You insisted with a pleading look, the boy couldn't really protest so he sighed in defeat.

"Fine I guess, then how about you come with me, I'll get another pair of shoes to wear, and I'll hand you these ones?" He said and you slowly nodded. You found it odd how you were already trusting this guy. You had just met, yet there was something about him that just screamed about how amazing he was. You couldn't really describe it. Just the way his smile could numb the pain in your chest was strange. How you already felt comfortable around him.

"That's okay to me, I guess..." You said a bit skeptical, your brain started to warn you about possible dangers, which couldn't just be ignored. The guy just smiled again. Man he never stopped smiling, you wondered how he even managed to do that.

"Do I really look like a dangerous person? I mean look at me!" He eventually chuckled, pulling his lips into a cute pout, actually no. You would never think he'd be any type of criminal, but you never knew.

"You never know..." You continued, and he seemed to get your point. In fact, he just took some steps towards you, you felt your breath itch inside of your throat, not finding the courage to even let out a breath.

He then just stretched out his hand in front of you, beaming brightly, showing his pearly white teeth.

You couldn't help but stare at it before understanding that he just wanted a handshake. In the end, you put your hand in his, feeling how a cold chill went down your spine at the contact to his cold yet smooth skin.

"I'm Byun Baekhyun, nice to meet you." He introduced himself, a cheerful grin resting onto his mouth as his eyes found yours.

You felt your mouth twitch upwards at the warm feeling of slight happiness filling you up. Happiness, what was it that you were feeling?  Healed, pain-free? You weren't sure, but it felt amazing. You secretly wished for his hand to keep on holding yours.

"I'm Y/n, nice to meet you too, Baekhyun." You smiled back, his name tasting sweet on your tongue.

"Now before we get my shoes, let me buy you a coffee, it's getting cold." He said, as his hand left yours, you immediately missed the feeling, but you quickly pushed the thought away.

You didn't protest, instead, you let Baekhyun led you to a very cozy coffee shop where he offered you a warm drink, the two of you talked and talked. It was just as if you had always known each other. Baekhyun was a funny guy, charming and caring. You got to know many things about him, that he loved singing, and to work out. That hadn't surprised you since he did look pretty fit.

He lived alone, he had left his parents house just a year ago. Not because he had any conflicts with his family, just to live closer to his workplace. In fact, he was very close to his parents and brother. And even if he could meet them often, he still missed having them at home sometimes, he also explained that it was why he spent a lot of time at his parents' house when he could.

You realized how being with Baekhyun had been something good for you, he had managed to sincerely make you laugh and smile. And just after a few minutes of talking, you wondered why you had been in the first place. He had managed to erase Joohyuk's face from your mind completely. And it had felt amazing.

The two of you had reached his apartment, though you didn't get to see it as you waited at the entrance, he only needed to change shoes anyways. Just a minute after, he had returned with a bag in which the shoes you were going to clean were.

With a weak smile, you took the bag from his hands. You felt your heart tingle the moment your fingers brushed against his in the process.

Suddenly you realized something and faced him with your eyebrows meeting on your forehead, Baekhyun just gave you a questioning look.

"Why are you still in your coat, you could just stay at home now?" You mumbled,  a bit confused. He just let out another of his beautiful laughs that you'd love to listen to nonstop.

"I'm not going to let you walk home alone at this hour for sure." He grinned and you immediately felt your cheeks heat.

"There's no need for that..." you protested awkwardly.

"Don't be like that, also need to see where you live, so I can get my shoes back. Right? " Baekhyun reasoned and you admitted he had a point.

"Well, I guess you should come with me then." As you gave in, a warm smile spread onto his face, his eyes forming into half moons. You felt your insides heat, a warm feeling roaming into your body as your gazes locked.

When you reached your house you thanked him for accompanying you and apologized for your dog once more, which he just told you not to worry about.

You told him that he could come and get his shoes in two days when they would be dried and like new. After that, he left, and you headed inside with Kookie by your side.

Just as you stepped inside you instantly missed his presence. But the thought of being able to see him again made you more excited than you were sad to say goodbye.

You looked very much forward to see him again, your heart was already beating in a hysteric manner against your chest.

Ignoring the late hour it was you started cleaning the house with eager, wanting it to shine and smell like fresh cleaning products. All of this just because someone that had just crossed your path. Your path that you didn't want him to leave.

"Kindness is just like snow, it beautifies everything it covers."

                                                       ❄❄❄

hi angels 🌹💖 I'm back with another story, as you can guess this will be another short winter special, I hope you'll like it and look forward to read it. Much love, pola💓🌹