#especially in the mornings now that it really is pitch black am and well im tired! im getting up at 4 am! im so tired.

[carcarrot]

my end of the week resolution is that i am going to get back to watching the lawyer show and maybe also start another lawyer show at the same time and watch them on an alternating schedule

[stuckonstarker]

𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐦𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐫𝐨𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐬? 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐲 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐤.

read on AO3

Peter examined his robotics homework helplessly. He stared at the fluorescent screen of his busted up laptop until his eyes felt like they were going to explode.

He liked to think he was intelligent. He prided himself on it. While he was good at robotics, biology and chemistry were his true strengths.

He kept desperately turning the problem around in his head in a valiant, though fruitless, effort to come to any solution. He huffed.

Pulling out his cracked phone, Peter took a hasty picture of the problem and sent it to Ned. He typed in Ned’s number from memory, his old phone having been obliterated in a fight gone awry with a man cosplaying as a rhino - for whatever reason. 

Peter, tired out of his wits and ready to just go to bed already, didn’t bother checking if the number he sent it to was actually Ned’s. He sent the photo. It was accompanied by several text messages. 

peter: do u have any idea how to solve this? peter: sry for bothering u peter: im at a total loss lmao help me pls

Tony’s phone dinged. He didn’t even look up from the project he was working on.

Then the phone dinged rapidly two more times. Tony groaned. He glared at the phone like it had any say in the matter.

The messages Tony had received were from an unknown number. He was gearing up to block the rando before looking at what the messages actually said.

There was a photo of what was clearly homework. It wasn’t particularly complex, but Tony could see how it could trip someone up. Especially when it was the dead of night. And if the area code of the number was anything to go by, whoever this mystery number was, it was also going on three in the morning for them as well.

Tony responded by solving the problem. He sent a photo.

Tony: You’re welcome. No need to thank me. Actually, do thank me.

-

Peter perked up at the response. It wasn’t like Ned to be up so late. In fact, Ned had gotten on his case several times about his “deranged” sleeping habits.

Peter looked at his phone and cheered. He responded. 

peter: thank you thank you thank you !!!! peter: ned u r a life saver u r back in my will

He finished up his homework when he got another message. He read it and his face went hot while his body went cold.

Unknown Number: Not Ned. No need to put me in your will, unless you have something really cool besides highschool homework.

Peter typed.

peter: if u arent ned then who r u mystery man????

Unknown Number: Not important.

peter: its very important!!!!!! peter: how did u know the answer hm?????

Unknown Number: No offense, kid, but that problem was rudimentary. 

peter: oooo rudimentary peter: ill rudimentary ur face bro peter: cut me some slack its like 3 am

Unknown Number: Then go to bed.

peter: ur not my dad smhhhhh

Unknown Number: I don’t need to be your dad to know it’s past your bedtime. Go to bed.

peter: lmao no

Unknown Number: Is this how you always treat people who do your homework for you?

peter: u solved one ( 1) problem peter: dont get cocky

Unknown Number: Arrogance is the one thing I’m good at.

peter: that and robotics apparently peter: u must be old peter: no one msgs like that lmao peter: ur texting not writing a novel

Unknown Number: I am old.

peter: how old

Unknown Number: Old.

peter: ha ha peter: im not actually laughing that was sarcastic

Unknown Number: I gathered that.

peter: tell me ur name at least peter: pls peter: so i can thank u 

Peter stared at his phone hard. The light of it illuminating him and the pitch blackness that surrounded him.

He watched as the text bubbles appeared and disappeared over and over again. They stopped before a message popped up.

Unknown Number: Tell me yours first. 

This guy, Peter thought. For some reason, probably his inane curiosity, Peter wanted to know more about this stranger. So, he complied. Nothing bad could come from sharing just his first name, right? There are like a million Peters in the world.

peter: peter peter: now u

Unknown Number: You can call me Tony.

peter: thank u tony

tony: You’re welcome. 

The conversation seemed to have come to a close. Peter set his phone down, resolute on getting at least three hours of sleep. Then, another message popped up.

tony: Feel free to contact me with any more robotics problems you come across.

-

“Ned,” Peter said, successfully capturing his friend’s attention despite the onslaught of dodgeballs being pummeled at them.

“What?” Ned gave his friend a bright look, “Is this about spider activities?”

Peter said, “No. And I thought we made a rule about not talking about the spider here.”

“I was being discreet,” Ned said.

Peter shook his head, “Whatever. That is so not the point. Anyways, last night I was having some serious problems with Mr. Volpenhein’s homework and I texted you because I needed help, but I didn’t text you. I accidentally texted some random guy and he solved the problem. Then he tried to tell me to go to bed.”

“Did he get the answer right?” Ned asked.

Peter said, “I think so.”

“No offense, Peter, but that isn’t that exciting.”

Peter shrugged his shoulders.

Ned laughed, “Even some strange guy was trying to put you to bed.”

“Whatever,” Peter said with a smile.

Peter, adrenaline spiking in a matter of seconds, jumped in front of Ned. In the process, he caught the ball that had been hurled at his friend. He gave a harsh glare to the perpetrator in question who was, as always, Flash.

Flash’s eyes were wide, but he dug his heels into the ground. “You just got lucky, Penis! Next time I won’t miss,” He called out.

Peter rolled his eyes. 

“Thanks, man,” Ned said. 

Peter sighed, “No worries. The sooner we’re out of here, the better.”

Ned nodded.

-

They had lunch right after gym. In Peter’s opinion, besides in the morning, this was the worst time to have gym. But that was just the typical Parker Luck, as him and May have dubbed it.

“Tell me more about your robotic savior,” Ned said as they sat in their usual spots by the window.

Peter gave him a look, “I thought you said it wasn’t exciting.”

“It’s not.”

Peter pushed Ned lightly, Ned barely even moved. They both shared a small laugh.

“But,” Ned said, “but… I want to know who this guy is. I don’t want you replacing me as your Guy-In-The-Chair.”

Peter laughed, “No one could replace you. Except for maybe MJ. But she’d never want to replace you, so that’s sorted.”

Ned said, “Do you think this mystery guy is a villain?”

“No,” Peter said, “usually bad guys kick me around a bunch. So far, none of them have offered to help me with my homework.”

Ned made a contemplative noise, “You never know.”

“I think I have a pretty good guess, though,” Peter said. 

“But you still never know.”

“Since when did you have trust issues?” Peter asked with a smile. He said, “Being weirdly detached and mistrusting is MJ’s thing.”

Ned said, “I’m only looking out for you. I don’t want what happened with Dr. O-”

“Ned.”

Ned gave Peter a soft look, “Sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Peter said, attempting to, and failing at, sounding like it was fine. It was very much not fine. But that didn’t mean he wanted to talk about it.

He said, “This guy’s name is Tony, by the way.”

“Whoa.” Ned asked, “Like Stark?”

Peter shook his head, “Out of the millions of people I could’ve accidentally texted, the odds of me texting Tony Stark is extremely low. Even if I did text him, he probably wouldn’t have answered.”

“But…” Ned said with a wry smile, “You never know.”

“Ned.”

Ned smiled, “Yeah?”

“Shut up,” Peter said as they both busted out into laughter.

-

Tony walked through a long sanitized hallway. Pepper was in front of him, luring him to his despise. Or, otherwise known as, a meeting with a bunch of stuffy halfwits.

The boardroom was just as sickeningly perfect as the hallway had been. Several men, who looked like clones of each other, sat around a table. Their eyes shot toward Tony the moment he entered the room.

Truly the only way Tony had been able to tell the difference between these men was at what stage of balding they were at. Michael Krasinski had a full head of hair while Byron Moss had none. Everyone else fell at different spots in the middle to Tony.

He sighed, “If I’m honest, which I’m rarely not nowadays, I don’t understand the purpose of this meeting.”

“What Tony means to say is,” Pepper started, swooping in to save his ass as she often did, “Stark Industries has been very successful lately. This meeting is unexpected.”

One of the members, whose hair was barely hanging on, piped up, “There have been a few investments that concerned us.”

“Pep,” Tony whispered, “if they bring up the student internships again I will freak out.”

The student internship situation had been controversial when Tony first did it. Apparently, no one cares about nurturing bright young minds. It had been a “waste of money” to encourage students to enter the STEM workfield.

Tony had assured them he would take care of it. Then he didn’t change shit. So they were probably pissed about that.

“We are eager to hear your concerns and make improvements where necessary,” Pepper said to the group of scrutinizing eyes. 

Tony immediately zoned out. He discreetly pulled out his phone and sent a message to Rhodey.

Tony: When are you going to get back, Platypus? I miss you.

A response came immediately.

Peter: i didnt know we were using nicknames now Peter: what do i call u

Tony restrained saying an expletive. He had texted the highschooler from last night.

Tony: I didn’t mean to text you. That should be obvious. And you do not get to call me a nickname. We’re not there yet.

Peter: oooo how the turn tables turn Peter: who is this platypus Peter: are they like perry?

Tony: Who’s Perry?

Peter: ur joking Peter: theres no way you actually dont know who perry the platypus is

Tony: I don’t.

A picture came through of a blue animal that could be perceived as a platypus if looked at through squinted eyes.

I have never seen that creature before in my life, Tony sent with a smile.

Peter: omg u have to watch phineas and ferb

Tony: I don’t have to do anything, actually.

Peter: wow ur sooooo cool tony Peter: only losers havent seen phineas and ferb

Tony: It’s a cartoon.

Peter: so???

Tony: So, you’re calling me a loser for not watching a children’s show?

Peter: ye

Tony: You know what, kid. I respect that.

Then, Tony considered for a moment.

Tony: Wait. Tony: Shouldn’t you be in school?

Peter: i am

Tony: Why are you texting me?

Peter: cos im bored lol Peter: i already know all the material so it doesnt matter

Tony: You didn’t seem to know all the material last night. If I recall, you were having problems with a pretty basic circuit.

Peter: it was THREE IN THE MORNING

Tony: Don’t yell at me.

Peter: wat r u going to do?? Peter: ground me?? Peter: love to see u try mister

Tony: Keep it up and I will.

Peter: ooo im sooo scared

Tony: Pay attention to your teacher.

Peter: i just told u i already know this stuff Peter: its chem and im hella good at that

Tony: Where do you go to school? 

Tony only realized how creepy of a question that was after he sent it.

Peter: none of your business high

Tony: My bad. Overstepped a boundary there.

Peter: apology accepted

Tony: I wasn’t apologizing.

Peter: bruh Peter: then what were u doing???

Tony: Taking accountability.

Peter: im pretty sure thats the textbook definition of apologizing

Tony let out a soft laugh and everyone in the meeting looked at him. 

“Is there anything you’d like to add?” asked some guy who was rapidly approaching the bald end of the spectrum.

Tony smiled, “Nope.”

“Mr. Stark is only amused because these reports show that the student internship program has been a wild success,” Pepper said with the swiftness of someone who was used to Tony’s antics.

Another board member interjected, “Just because something’s a success doesn’t mean we should continue it.”

“Are you being serious?” Tony asked before Pepper could form a prim response.

Pepper sighed, “There is no reason to discontinue the program. Until someone in this room provides clear statistical proof that the student internship program is not worth continuing then it will continue running. Along with every other civil program Stark Industries is running.”

“Tell em, Pep,” Tony said.

Pepper gave him a look with her icy eyes. Tony smiled in turn. 

Leaving the board meeting was an instant breath of fresh air. Even if Pepper instantly got on his case. To be fair, he deserved it.

“You weren’t even paying attention,” Pepper said.

Tony tilted his head, “I am taking that accusation very heavily, Potts. You’ll be in contact with my lawyer.”

“I’d have to be the one to call them,” Pepper said.

Tony smiled at her apologetically.

Pepper asked, “Who were you texting?”

“I wasn’t texting.”

Pepper gave him a blank look, “I’m not blind.”

“You know,” Tony admitted, “I’m not really sure. Some kid texted the wrong number to ask for help with homework. It was a circuit problem, the kind they give you in highschool. So I helped out. I accidentally texted them just now because I was trying to text Rhodey.”

Pepper looked at him hard. It was the same exasperated calculating stare Tony had seen a million times over.

“Jesus,” She said after a moment, “you’re like a walking PR nightmare.”

Tony shrugged his shoulders in defeat. She had a pretty good point. But he wasn’t too concerned. Afterall, the kid didn’t know who he was, and Tony didn’t know who the kid was. 

Their most recent conversation would probably be their last conversation.

-

“Dude,” Peter squeezed through the after school hallway congestion.

Ned stood at his locker and gave Peter a toothy smile, “Hi.”

“Guess what just happened,” Peter said.

Ned said, “What?”

“Dude, guess!” Peter shook Ned’s shoulder.

Ned rolled his eyes but complied with a smile, “The roof caved in on Mrs. Little and her class is canceled for the rest of the year?”

“Not even close, dude. And don’t say stuff like that. I like Mrs. Little.”

Ned laughed and closed his locker. They walked down the steadily emptying hall together.

“What happened, then?” Ned asked, “Is it something to do with spider related activities?”

Peter sighed as he looked to the ceiling for dramatic effect, “No! Tony texted me.”

“Whoa,” Ned halted in his tracks, “why?”

Peter said, “He was trying to text someone he calls ‘Platypus.’ Then he threatened to ground me for texting while in class. But I think he was mostly joking. Maybe. It’s hard to tell through text. And he texts like an old man.”

“He probably is an old man.” Ned said, “He probably lied about trying to text someone else just to talk to you. You’re probably the first person he’s talked to in fifty years.”

“Ned, that is so not nice,” Peter said.

Ned said, “I’m just throwing theories out there.”

“Well, settle it down, MatPat, okay? I think it’s probably some old guy who - I don’t know  - worked in mechanical engineering or something. He’s probably some regular old dude,” Peter said.

Ned said, “Like I said, it’s just a theory-”

“Don’t,” Peter warned.

“-a game theory!”

“I don’t even know why I’m friends with you,” Peter smiled.

Ned sang, “It’s because you love me.”

“True,” Peter said.

They went their separate ways.

Peter usually walked home. When he was feeling spicy, he’d swing back to his apartment. But, especially as Spider-Man became more well known, Peter didn’t want to do something that risked giving his identity away.

He texted Tony.

peter: my friend thinks ur a sad old man texting me for company

A response, immediately.

tony: Your friend isn’t entirely wrong.

peter: thats concerning peter: do u have irl friends???

tony: Yes.

peter: thank god peter: i was about to be real sad

tony: Don’t worry about me, kid.

peter: i cant help it peter: u helped me wit my hw peter: now i owe u my life

tony: Any time, kid.

peter: whats with u calling me kid peter: how would u like it if i kept calling u old man

tony: I’ve been called worse.

peter: like what???? peter: i’ll fight them for u, old man

tony: Don’t. I deserved it most of the time.

peter: why?

tony: I wasn’t a good person when I was younger. I’m still fixing the mess I made in my early twenties.

peter: ppl r not their worst mistakes peter: u r so much more than what u have done wrong

tony: That’s surprisingly profound coming from someone who can’t be bothered to type out ‘you’.

peter: thank you

tony: Do you just like being difficult?

peter: yes peter: its part of my charm

-

The kid, Peter, wasn’t wrong. His aptitude for sarcasm and talking back was actually growing on Tony.  

There was something about the anonymity that made it easy for Tony to spill the feelings he kept from some of his closest confidants. Tony knew it was obvious, though. Rhodey, Pepper, and Happy - hell, maybe even a portion of the Avengers - knew that guilt ate away at him everyday. But, he never said it. Except for the times where he wanted to make a point. 

Tony found his thoughts coming back to Peter at hand. Then he stopped himself. There was no way that wherever this thing was going that it was going to be good.

But he found himself intrigued. And an intrigued Tony Stark might be the most dangerous Tony Stark there is.

The day passed by, but Tony’s thoughts were consistently drawn back toward Peter.

He ignored the gnawing for Peter’s sake. The last thing some random highschool kid needed was to be dragged into Tony’s neverending drama. But…

Tony: How was school?

A reply in an instant.

Peter: wow Peter: dad moment Peter: it was alright Peter: like i said the work is easy since i already know most of it Peter: just boring

Tony: I get what you mean. I skipped highschool and went straight to college.

Peter: no way Peter: ur fucking with me

Tony: Nope. It was horrible for my mental health.

Peter: how smart r u Peter: jesus Peter: i wouldnt survive one day in a college class

Tony: They’re not that hard. Surprisingly enough. Tony: It was just lonely being a child surrounded by adults.

Peter: sry to hear that Peter: did u want to go to college early?

Tony: No. But I didn’t really have much of a choice in the matter.

Peter: thats awful Peter: u shouldnt have been forced into it 

Tony: Don’t worry about it, kid. Seriously. Tony: I shouldn’t even be talking to you about this. It’s not like you’re my therapist.

Peter: do u have a therapist???

Tony: Yeah, but I don’t really go.

Peter: why

Tony: Too busy.

Peter: mental health is important Peter: go to ur therapy or i wont go to robotics class

Tony: You drive a tough bargain.

Peter: go to therapy or i will go feral

Tony: Now that’s a threat. Fine, kid, you win.

Peter: thank u

It was later that night, Tony found himself dangerously enamored. Though, Peter was an anonymous face behind a phone screen, Tony had really found himself coming to like that kid. It scared him to death, liking people. The people he liked tended to meet untimely ends. Tony didn’t do well with liking people.

His love bordered on obsession. More than most. Pepper, Rhodey, even Happy had all been at his lovebombing mercy before and none of them had been particularly fond of it. Tony knew if he were to do anything for this kid, Peter, then there would be no going back from it. That it would completely undo this weirdly beautiful thing they had going on.

Call Tony selfish, it wouldn’t be the first time, but he liked having someone to talk to who didn’t know him. Who didn’t put enormous expectations on him all the time. Someone like Peter, who seemed young and free, started to make Tony’s wings spread a little as well.

Can’t stop thinking about you, Tony sent, cringing when he realized how much of a creep that made him sound.

Peter: ur so sweet Peter: i bet u say that to everyone who accidentally texts u

Tony: Nope, just you.

Peter: what an honor

Tony’s curiosity got the better of him. Peter, it seemed, was a highschool student. Their conversations have illuminated Tony to the fact that, yeah, Peter is actually a genius. Tony doesn’t know much more than that. A friend named Ned, but no parents, and somewhat disadvantaged.

Tony could work with that. He commanded Friday to trace a phone he felt a familiar feeling. The kind of chilling stomach ache that warned him he was making an irreversible mistake.

“Found him, Boss,” Friday announced, multiple pictures appearing before Tony in an instant.

The blue light blinded him for a moment. He approached it. A small apartment in Queens. Tony smiled.

Friday said, “There’s something else of note.”

“Yeah, babygirl?”

“The local vigilante known as Spider-Man,” a few videos and pictures appear, “has been seen coming and going from this location. There is reason to suspect that Peter Parker may be Spider-Man.”

Tony stepped back. He examined all the data for a fault, but nope. It seemed concrete. The kid who texted him by accident, a one-in-a-million chance, just so happened to also be the web-slinging vigilante known as Spider-Man. 

Things just got much more interesting.

-

Peter was cleaning some dishes while May took a nap on the couch. His mind wandered back to the night’s text he received from Tony. Was Tony hitting on him? It seemed silly, but it wasn’t entirely implausible. Was it?

He told Ned about it and Ned gave him a side-eye while MJ snickered. It doesn’t matter what they think, Peter thought, okay, it kind of does. But they don’t understand what it’s like juggling being a good nephew, a good student, and a good Spider-Man. There’s a lot of responsibility Peter has been shouldering and this Tony guy feels like a breath of fresh air. He doesn’t know who Peter is, nephew, student, or Spider-Man. It’s nice talking to someone who doesn’t have any expectations for him.

There was a sharp knock on the door.

Peter turned toward it as May was roused from her sleep. She started to get up.

“I’ve got it, May.”

Her hair was a mess and her eyes narrowed in the freshly awake kind of way. She mumbled something as she sat up despite Peter’s protests.

Peter sighed and he opened the door. He looked up and opened his mouth, but the words died on his lips-

Oh, shit.

[secretpeachtea]

Onigiri Miya Tidbits Ch 8

Title: the oh-no-giri miya

Genre: gen fic, reader insert

Word Count: 5.5k (but are we really surprised)

Summary: Onigiri Miya is now hiring and you just happen to be the right person for the job. The business has been gaining popularity since its grand opening, and many customers travel from different cities just to have a bite of Miya Osamu’s delicious recipes. You did expect some craziness from working in food services, but what you didn’t expect was to be bombarded with frequent tomfoolery from a bunch of attractive volleyball players during your shifts.

disclaimer: manga spoilers

A/N: yeeeeehaw another chatper update! there's a lot going on this chapter, but i just hope everything makes sense. thanks for all the support so far! im thinking this series might come to an end soon, but i will keep you all updated!

Previous///Next

You yawn for the fourth time after clocking into work today and rub your tired eyes. Your exhaustion does not go unnoticed by your boss.

“Long night?” Osamu asks as he finishes restocking the fridge.

“More like long week.” Another yawn threatens to leave your lips and you have to force yourself to stop. “There’s been construction going on near my apartment and the elderly couple next door seems to be having some sort of argument for the past few nights. If they don’t figure their issues out by tomorrow, I’m gonna have to have a talk with my landlord.”

Osamu gives you a sympathetic glance and pats your shoulder. “I hope they do. Can’t have my favorite employee walking around like a zombie every day.”

“I’m your only employee, Osamu-san.”

The man just shrugs his shoulders before giving you a more serious look. “You sure you’ll be okay though? I wouldn't mind if you left early today.”

You waved off his suggestion. “No, I’ll be fine. Plus, we have a lot going on today. I’d rather not leave you to deal with that on your own, especially since the entire team is coming to help out.”

There were only a few weeks before the V. League Championships, so the starting players of MSBY were coming in to volunteer and advertise their big match against the Schweiden Adlers. Atsumu was the one to suggest having this event and his coach seemed to like the idea. It did take a while to convince Osamu to allow anybody to work at his precious restaurant but gave in after his brother promised to wear a giant onigiri costume during the entire event and buy him some Wagyu beef after his next paycheck.

Before Osamu could ask you anything else, the front door to Onigiri Miya was roughly opened and the seven MSBY starting players sauntered inside. Everyone greeted each other briefly and Osamu was just about to get them set up in their spots, but MSBY’s setter had other plans.

Atsumu placed a large bag on top of the counter and took out what looked like picture frames along with a power drill.

Osamu raised an eyebrow. “What are you doing, you scrub?”

“What should’ve been done a long time ago!” Without hesitation, Atsumu approached the wall with all of the autographs from previous customers and began to put up seven other frames. He was clearly still upset about the fact that his brother had autographs of the rival team in his shop, so the blonde decided to take matters into his own hands and hang up signed portraits of himself and his teammates. There were shouts of displeasure from your boss and you’d normally be the mediator between the twins, but you felt too tired at the moment to care.

Meian Shugo, the captain of MSBY, approached the spot next to you and gave you a kind smile. “Hey, (Surname)-san.”

“Hello, Meian-san.” You returned the smile with a small wave.

Your boss wanted to meet up with all the volunteers a week prior to the event in order to teach them what they were responsible for, especially those who were helping with the cooking. Since he had asked you to help out, you were able to meet the three remaining MSBY players for the first time last week as well.

“(Surname)-chan, do you need any help with anything before customers start rolling in?” Inunaki Shion questioned as he skipped over to where you were with his teammate, Adriah Thomas, following behind.

“Actually, we need to set up a few tables outside in case it gets a little packed indoors during the lunch rush. Do you guys mind bringing the tables and chairs outside with me?” You pointed towards the plastic tables that were leaning against the wall.

“Sure thing!” Inunaki briefly translated what you had said to Thomas in English and the latter simply nodded his head in understanding. As Thomas was walking past you to grab one of the tables, he lifted his hands in front of you. You haven’t really been able to speak with him since you weren’t very fluent in English, but he has always tried to be as friendly as possible around everyone and seems to love giving high-fives. You thought his actions were endearing, so you gave him a high-five with an equal amount of enthusiasm.

After grabbing what you needed and stepping outside, you spent a couple minutes directing each of them to where everything was supposed to be set up. Once that was done, you ushered them back inside. “Thanks guys! We’re opening soon, so let me know if you have any questions on what you’ll be doing.”

Unsurprisingly, Atsumu and Osamu were still bickering, but now Atsumu had a large black and white onigiri costume in his arms. “How the hell am I supposed to wear this all day, ‘Samu?”

“Easy. Just put it on and keep it on.” The onigiri chef explained. “Bokuto-san, do you mind helping him put it on?”

“Sure thing, Myaa-san!”

Everyone spent the next few minutes decorating the room with MSBY merchandise or helping Atsumu put on his costume and before you knew it, the first customer had arrived. Multiple voices rang throughout the shop, “Welcome to Onigiri Miya!”

Thankfully, the first couple of hours went by without any issues. You were surprised at how all of the guys were able to adapt to their jobs so quickly.

Normally, the customers take their food from the counter themselves, but for the event, Bokuto and Inunaki served as waiters. They seem to be doing a pretty good job so far and the customers love their amiable personalities.

Atsumu was sent outside to give out fliers and keep watch of the people eating outdoors. He would come back inside every so often to refill on fliers or complain about the onigiri suit, and it usually ended up with him being chased out by Sakusa who was on cleaning duty (“Omi-kun why do you keep hitting me with the broom?!”/”I was told to clean any trash on the ground.”). Sakusa was a bit reluctant to be put strictly on cleaning duty but voiced no complaints when you told him that this job requires the least amount of human interaction.

Hinata and Thomas stayed in the kitchen to assist Osamu with cooking. The three worked quite well together and Hinata would translate anything for Thomas if need be.

You and Meian stood next to each other comfortably. You were doing what you normally did at the register except Meian took over all the phone orders.

Even with fewer responsibilities than usual, waves of exhaustion seeped into your bones throughout the morning. There would be the occasional superfan that would walk in and ask for a picture with all the players while squealing in a pitch that could outmatch a dolphin. Just the thought of it gave you a bigger migraine.

“-san…-rname)-san?...(Surname)-san!”

Your eyes shoot up to Meian who has been calling your name for who knows how long. Apparently, your fatigue was also affecting your reaction time. “Ah! Sorry, Meian-san. Did you need something?”

The tall man eyes you with worry. “Are you okay? You seem distracted.”

“Yeah, I’m okay. Just a bit tired.” You brush off his concern.

He looks like he wants to say more but is interrupted by Hinata who had popped his head in your periphery. “Hey, (Name)-san. Do you know where Osamu-san keeps the olive oil? He stepped away for a moment to check on something and I can’t find it.”

“Oh, yeah. I can get that for-!”

As you turn around from your spot, your vision blurs and you feel your knees give out from the sudden lightheadedness. There are several alarmed voices around you, but you don’t think you can react fast enough to stop yourself from falling over. You prepare for any pain, but before your head could hit the counter, strong arms wrap around your waist.

“(Name)-san!”

Hinata’s voice is right next to you, so you can assume that he is the one who caught you. The poor man looks like he’s about to call an ambulance in panic, so you place a hand on his forearm to let him know you’re still awake.

It seems like all the noise also caused your boss to rush back from whatever he was doing because his figure is suddenly crouched down in front of you. Without warning, Osamu places a gentle hand on your forehead and you involuntarily blush. “Your face is a little red, but it doesn’t seem like you have a fever. You said you weren’t getting enough sleep lately, right?”

“I-I think I just turned around too fast. I’m fine.” You tap Hinata’s arm to get him to let you go and make the effort to stand up on your own to show that you didn’t need help.

Osamu stood up and crossed his arms, his gaze focused on the dark circles under your eyes. “No, you are not. Go to the back room and take a break.”

“I’m seriously okay. Lunch rush is almost here and I don’t want to make things difficult for the other guys,” you argue back.

Osamu doesn’t seem like he wants to back down either. “Would you rather I tell you to leave early? It’s either take a break now or go home.”

After watching you and Osamu go back and forth, Meian felt the need to intervene. “Don’t worry, (Surname)-san. I’ve been with you all morning, so I have a pretty good idea of what I need to do. We’ve got more than enough hands to help out.”

There’s a brief silence as everyone waits for you to say something. You finally let out a defeated sigh. “Alright. I’ll take a break.”

The guys around you feel the tension leave from their shoulders at your compliance.

“But,” you lift up a finger to get their attention, “you have to call me if there are any issues or if you need help with the register.”

“Got it, got it. Now go, (Name)-san.” Osamu walks around you and places his hands on your shoulders as he pushes you towards the back room.

When the door closed behind you, there was an unfamiliar silence permeating the room. You’ve never taken a break by yourself, so you felt slightly uncomfortable. Deciding to just lay on the small couch at the corner of the room, you looked up at the ceiling not exactly knowing what to do during your ‘break’. You didn’t even realize your eyes started to droop until they were fully closed and you entered a deep sleep.

You stretch your arms as you walk back to the register feeling much more refreshed than you were before and mentally thanked your boss for convincing you to take a break.

There’s a small skip to your step as you get closer to where Meian is, but his strange posture makes you halt. When you look around the counter, there are multiple customers waiting in line and all of them seem to have irritated expressions. Meian has the phone up to his ears and he’s stuttering so much that you can’t even make out what he’s trying to say.

You’re about to reach out to help him, but the front entrance suddenly opens and you can’t help but gape at the sight. Standing in nothing but pants and an apron, Atsumu runs a hand through his blonde locks while sweat runs down his skin. You’re not sure why he’s shirtless or how he got away with taking off the costume, but your focus is once again taken away by another volleyball player.

Bokuto grabs a tray of food that Osamu left out and rushes to one of the tables. In his haste, he accidentally trips over his own feet and everything on the tray is sent flying. Your eyes widen when you witness the owlish man produce an entire front flip in the middle of the tiny restaurant and land it successfully. Although, the food didn’t survive and proceeded to fall right on top of Sakusa’s head with a resounding plop.

“Wow! Bokuto, when did you learn to do that?” Inunaki asks excitedly.

“I’ve been practicing so that I can have a grand entrance at the game!” Bokuto stands proudly, completely oblivious to his seething teammate. Sakusa is absolutely furious and looks like he’s about to blow a fuse.

Atsumu chooses to step in and make an attempt at calming his friend lightheartedly. “Hey, Omi-Omi! You’re overreacting. Just wash it off and call it a day. No need to get so mad at your friend.”

Atsumu’s words only seem to infuriate the dark haired male even more. “Get out of the fucking way, Miya. I don’t need your dumb excuses of friendship. I’m sick and tired of your shit.”

You could almost see the poison being spit out of Sakusa’s mouth as he directed his harsh words at Atsumu. The blonde seemed to have finally snapped as well as he alarmingly lifted one of his fists. Before Atsumu could cause any harm, Osamu grabbed his brother’s arm. You didn’t even notice your boss approach the two.

“‘Tsumu! What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Osamu kept a tight grip on Atsumu as he glared. “Stop being an idiot and calm down.”

Atsumu roughly grabbed onto his brother’s collar with both of his hands. “You expect me to stay calm after hearing that? And, calling me an idiot doesn’t help, ‘Samu!”

You’ve finally had enough of being just a bystander, so you quickly ran around the counter and put a hand on each of the twins’ shoulders trying to lightly tug them away from each other. “Guys, you need to stop. Fighting in the middle of the shop is not going to solve anything.”

You knew that your words alone wouldn’t be enough to relieve their anger, but what you didn’t expect was the arm that harshly swung out in your direction, pushing you into the nearest table. If it weren’t for Bokuto and Inunaki steadying your balance, you could’ve been seriously injured.

“Stay out of this, (Name)-san.” Anger seems to have blinded Osamu and he doesn’t look even the least bit guilty for pushing you. “You’re being annoying. I don’t need you.”

If you could describe the way your heart felt after hearing those words, you would compare it to shattering glass. You knew you shouldn’t allow his words to affect you this much, but your emotions had failed you and all you could do was look down with tears in your eyes. Maybe this wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t taken that break.

Unfortunately, the universe didn’t seem to want you to even contemplate on your decision when a loud scream was heard from the kitchen area. Everyone in the room watched as Hinata, Thomas, and Meian collectively yelled the one word that could’ve made this situation worse.

“FIRE!!”

Your body aggressively shot up into a sitting position with your arms outstretched as you let out a startled gasp. A bead of sweat ran down your face and you took a second to take some deep breaths. Once you felt like your heart wasn’t going to jump out of your chest, you took in your surroundings.

You were alone in the back room of Onigiri Miya sitting on the same couch that you must have fallen asleep on when you first walked in. There was a thin blanket on top of your body that you don’t remember having before losing consciousness, but you didn’t wait to dwell on it as you tossed it aside and stood up to go back outside.

Throwing the door open, you steeled your nerves at the potential chaos that you might have to confront after your terrible, anxiety-provoking dream. However, the sight in front of you was... completely normal.

Your boss, being the closest one to the door, was the first person to notice your presence and smiled as you walked up to him. “Hey, (Name)-san. How are you feeling?”

“Uh...better? How’s everything out here?” Your eyes shift around the room to see if anything was unusual. “No raging fire or um...missing shirts?”

Osamu looked at you with confusion. “Not that I know of? It was a bit rocky after you left, but after about an hour everyone adjusted pretty well.”

Your shoulders released their tension at the fact that there weren’t any issues in your absence but immediately tensed back up when you realized what Osamu had just implied. “An hour?! How long was I asleep for?”

“Maybe about four hours?”

“Four-!” Almost choking on your words, you pulled out your phone to check the time and it has indeed been four hours since you started your break. “Why didn’t anyone wake me up?”

“I came in to check on you after about half an hour, but you seem really tired, and as your boss, I need to make sure you’re not overworked or sick.” Osamu brought up an arm to rub his neck sheepishly. “I know how you feel about me being concerned about your health, but I’d rather have you upset at me than risk you ending up in a hospital.”

A pout makes its way onto your face. How were you supposed to be upset if he gave you a reasoning like that?

Taking your silence as a sign to keep talking, Osamu brings his arm down and places his hand on your head comfortingly. “We’re not closing just yet, so you can still help out. I know you don’t like missing out on work, so there’s still some things to get done, if you’re good with that?”

You nod your head eagerly. “Yeah, sounds good. I’ll try to make up for what I missed.”

When you returned to the register, some of the MSBY players welcomed you back happily. Hinata and Meian gave you worried looks but felt reassured when you gave them a cheerful thumbs up. The only person you haven’t seen in a while was Atsumu, so you assumed he was still working outside.

Since holding the MSBY event for an entire normal work day might tire out the players, Osamu had planned to close earlier than usual, which meant that there was only about an hour left before closing. You tried your best to do as much as you could during that hour, even checking up on everyone every once in a while.

Ten minutes before closing, a woman walked in with two young boys by her side. You could make the assumption that they might be twins based on the uncanny similarities between them. Although, one of them seemed much more outgoing than the other based on their mannerisms and the two reminded you of another set of twins. The kids must’ve been playing outdoors before walking in since their hands were covered in dirt.

The mother lightly pushed her sons towards the back of the room. “Why don’t you two go wash your hands in the bathroom, while I order the food?”

“Okay!” The more extroverted twin answered back and ran towards the bathroom after grabbing his brother’s hand.

The woman asks for a to-go order and strikes up a conversation with Bokuto and Inunaki while she waits. After a couple of minutes, there are strange noises and laughter coming from the bathroom. When you looked up, the mother was still standing with the two men, so her sons must still be in the bathroom.

Tapping Meian on the shoulder, you point to the back when he has his attention on you. “Meian-san, could you watch the register real quick? I’m gonna go check what’s going on in the bathroom.”

He gives you a slight nod and you make your way to where all the noise is. The bathroom door is slightly ajar and when you peek in, you see the two boys standing in front of the sink blowing bubbles with their fingers. There was soap and water everywhere. You silently thank the universe for not having you on cleaning duty today.

Not wanting to startle the children, you knock on the door before opening it all the way. You expected the boys to be terrified at getting caught, but when they make eye contact with you over the mirror, their grins widen.

“Pretty cashier lady! Look what I can do!”

The talkative twin plunged his hand in the sink and viciously started blowing bubbles everywhere after taking his hand out. The quieter of the two started running around to avoid getting hit by the bubbles, but miscalculated how slippery the floor had gotten from all the soap and water.

“AH!”

As soon as you saw the boy’s feet slip from under him, you rushed forward and caught him with your own body, saving him from potentially breaking his nose. “Are you okay?”

The young boy turned red at the close proximity and shyly nodded his head while avoiding your eyes.

The ruckus had caused a couple people to check up on what was going on and were surprised to see the state of the bathroom as well as the boy that was tightly gripping onto your shirt. The boys’ mother was also part of the group as she had realized that her sons were taking quite a long time to simply wash their hands.

Rest assured, you explained what had happened and the woman scolded her children before making them apologize for causing such a disruption. The boy you had saved from slipping kept shifting his body weight from one foot to another when a sudden idea popped into his head. He quickly ran out of his mother’s hold and slid open the front door to go outside.

Before anyone could run after him, the boy came back inside just as quickly with a small white flower in his hand. He shuffled over to stand in front of you and held out the flower. “I’m sorry.”

You thought your heart would burst at the cute gesture and knelt down to gladly accept the flower with a warm smile. “Thank you.”

All of the guys around were watching the scene with a smile of their own. Someone quietly leaned over to an unsuspecting Osamu and whispered into his ear, “You’ve got some tough competition, Myaa-san.”

“Bokuto-san?!”

With that, the mother left with her sons after grabbing their food and the day was officially over. All of the MSBY players, excluding Sakusa and Atsumu, sat down at a table together to take a quick break before getting back up to clean. Sakusa begrudgingly went to get rid of the mess in the bathroom and Atsumu was still nowhere to be seen, but no one really seemed to notice at the moment.

Even though you were out cold for a couple hours, it still felt like an hectic day.

“Looks like you just can't get away from ruining your uniform, huh.”

Turning to the side, Osamu walks up to where you are and a smirk is plastered onto his features. True to his words, your uniform was once again soaked with water, but this time, there are remnants of soap as well.

You let out a sigh. “It seems so.”

Osamu nervously looks to the side and shoves his hands into his pockets. “Do you, uh, need something to cover up?”

“Nah, it’s all good. I actually brought an extra uniform shirt just in case anything happened during the event today. Luckily, I thought ahead!” You mentally pat yourself on the back.

“Yeah...lucky.”

“I’m gonna go change in the back room now. I’ll come out to help with cleaning afterwards!” You don’t wait to hear a response and disappear into the back room for the second time today.

At the same time, the entrance slides open and Atsumu, still in his onigiri costume, strolls into the shop. There’s an empty bag of chips hanging loosely from his hands, which he throws away to the nearest trash can.

“Atsumu-san! Where have you been?” Hinata stands up from his chair to walk up to the blonde in curiosity. “And, where did you get those chips?”

“There weren’t any customers outside and I wanted a snack so I went to the nearby convenience store,” Atsumu replies.

Osamu scoffs. “You skipped out on work and went to the convenience store in that?”

“Everyone and their moms in the next 10 mile radius has seen me in this, so what’s the point of getting embarrassed over wearing this down the block?” Atsumu attempts to shrug his shoulders but the suit is too large to make it obvious. “We’re done right? I wanna get out of this thing as soon as possible. You left my shirt in the back, right Shoyo-kun?”

Atsumu began speed walking towards the back room to change and Hinata realized a second too late that his teammate had no idea that you were still inside. The younger male jumped in place and tried to stop Atsumu. “Atsumu-san, wait! Don’t-!”

Unfortunately, Atsumu’s ears didn’t register what Hinata was trying to say in time and he swung open the door. He froze completely when he saw the bare skin of your back before sliding up his gaze to lock eyes with you. You were in the middle of putting on your extra uniform but froze in shock from the sudden entry with only your arms through the shirt, leaving the top half of your body only clad in a bra.

Hinata, who was only able to grab onto his teammate’s arm a second too late, also had a clear view. To make the situation even worse, Sakusa had just finished cleaning the bathroom and had walked out at the same time of the fiasco making him the third person to see you shirtless.

All four of you stare at one another for a second before you snap out of it. A menacing aura seeps out of your figure as your expression darkens. “Close the door.”

“SHIT! SORRY!” Atsumu regains function in his limbs at your tone and slams the door shut.

Hinata covers his fiery cheeks and squeezes his eyes shut but then immediately opens them when the image of you becomes too clear in his mind. He’s muttering incoherent apologies under his breath as if you could sense his remorse through the walls. Sakusa looks down at his mop and remains silent, his own cheeks tinted pink under his face mask.

“What the fuck did you do, Atsumu?”

Atsumu flinches at the coldness of Osamu’s words from behind him. He slowly turns around and meets his brother’s gaze. Osamu was mad.

Not even a second later Osamu’s kicking around Atsumu across the floor in anger. Atsumu opted to pull his arms and legs inside the suit to avoid any injuries. Hinata and Sakusa can only watch from the side. Out of curiosity, even Bokuto joined in on spectating. If this was any other situation, one might even laugh at the somewhat comical sight.

You step out of the back room a minute later fully dressed. No one has noticed you yet, so you just make your way to where the three less problematic MSBY players were sitting. They all watch you with mixed expressions as you sit down on one of the chairs wearily.

“You just can’t seem to catch a break. You good?” Inunaki peers at you with sympathy in his eyes. Thomas lifts up a hand for you to take and gives you a comforting squeeze before letting go.

“Yeah. I’m fine, really. Can’t even say I’m surprised that nothing seems to be calm when I’m around all you volleyball players. I’ve already gotten used to it, though.” You sigh exasperatedly but you can’t stop the small upward curve of your lips as you glance behind you at the chaos.

Meian chuckles. “You know, you’re pretty good at handling their shenanigans. Even with all the work you did today, you still made time to check on everyone. I’d say you’ve got some good managing skills.”

You give Meian a grateful smile at his kind words. He then seems lost in thought for a moment before beaming at you. “Hey, we have a manager position that’s open right now. Would you consider working along with all of us?”

The suggestion caught you completely off guard. You working with MSBY? You can’t deny that the idea makes you curious.

As you open your mouth to respond, an arm is suddenly slung over your shoulders silencing you.

“Sorry, Meian-san. She’s too good of a worker to give up.” At some point, your boss had gotten behind you and eavesdropped on your conversation. He tugs your body a bit closer to his own possessively and looks at Meian straight in the eye. “She’s mine.”

You’re surprised how you haven’t ended up in the hospital with how many times your heart has gone out of control in the last 8 hours. Except this time, a blush accompanies your irregular heart rate.

To save yourself from any potential embarrassment, you shrug off Osamu and cross your arms. “Um, no. I don’t belong to anyone.”

A flash of anxiety runs across Osamu’s eyes. He worries that he might have offended you or pushed you to take Meian’s offer.

Ignoring your boss, you send a small apologetic smile to the older man.” Sorry, Meian-san. I’m pretty happy working here, and I don’t know if I can really commit to a manager position at this time. Thanks for considering me though!”

“No worries, (Surname)-san. Feel free to let us know if you ever do change your mind.” The captain nods his head in understanding and accepts the rejection coolly.

A pained groan echoes through the shop and you turn to the noise. Atsumu is still on the ground looking absolutely drained of energy while Bokuto pokes at his costume with a single metal chopstick. Hinata and Sakusa are still in the same spot from before and make no effort to help Atsumu up.

Meian claps his hands once next to you and his chair screeches against the floor as he stands. “Alright, guys! Break’s over! Our job isn’t done just yet. Let’s get to cleaning!”

Leftovers

You’re just about ready to pass out as you lay in your bed with the lights off. Despite the four hour nap you had today, you still feel drowsy and can’t wait to get some sleep. Luckily, the neighbors seem to have calmed down for the night, so sleep should come easily. As you feel your consciousness slipping from you, you’re suddenly jolted awake by the shrill ringtone of your phone.

Letting out an annoyed groan, you pick up your phone to check who would be calling you so late. However, your irritation dissipates as soon as you read Shirabu’s name on the screen. He isn’t the type of person to call for no reason, so you immediately answer with a bit of a concerned tone, “Hey, Shirabu-san! What’s up?”

“Hello, (Surname)-san. Sorry for calling you so late. My shift just ended and I came across some information you might be interested in.” His words catch you by surprise and you force your body to sit up. “I just spoke to a colleague of mine and they informed me that there’s a program you might be interested in. They’re accepting new applicants at her university.”

“What?! That’s great! Could you tell me more about it?” It’s difficult to keep your voice down with all your anticipation.

Shirabu relays all of the information that his colleague had told him and you quickly shuffle over to your desk and turn on your mini lamp to write down both the website and email needed for the application. He stays silent as you finish writing down everything. You’re about to thank your friend, but he speaks up once again. “Oh, but I think it would be good to mention that the application is due in two days.”

You let out a panicked gasp. Two days?!

“Sorry about letting you know so late. I only found out about this today.” Shirabu’s tone is uncharacteristically apologetic, so you know he’s being genuine about his words. “I wouldn’t have told you about it, if I didn’t think you were capable of finishing it on time.”

After taking a deep breath, your face breaks out into a small smile at Shirabu’s blunt display of kindness. “It’s okay. You don’t have to apologize. I really do appreciate you even letting me know about this at all. Thanks, Shirabu-san.”

Your ears pick up a car door slam, so you assume Shirabu must have gotten in his car to go home. After some shuffling, Shirabu responds back to your gratitude. “No problem. I’m going to assume that you’ll probably want to get started on your application as soon as possible, so I’ll hang up now. Good luck with everything and let me know if you have any other questions.”

Once you’ve both said your goodbyes, the line goes silent. A spark lights in your eyes and all of your previous drowsiness has disappeared. You turn on your laptop and spend the majority of your night working on the application with motivation that you haven’t had in a while.

A/N: it took everything in my soul to not write ‘Inumaki’ instead of Inunaki. Inumaki supremacy (i love me my onigiri boys).

did i write the scene with the baby twins just for the whole scandalous back room exchange. yes. yes i did.

if the bubble blowing bathroom scene reminded you of that one scene in the spongebob movie, you’re on the VIP list

taglist: @kiyoo-omi, @tris-does-stuff, @livshotel, @bokuatsubro, @akkeyomi, @kaleidoscopekai @hirugachan

[makeusfreefromthisfandom]

Anon asked: Can I request something angsty but with a fluffy ending for natsuya? Preferably a one shot but headcannons would be fine too! Don’t push yourself ❤️❤️

Ok anon I see, trying to break my heart by making me write angst for my baby 🥺 Im just playing haha thank you for your concern, but don’t worry about it! <33

Harsh | Natsuya Kirishima x Reader

A/n: a bit of an abrupt ending, but I felt like it would just be dragged on if I continued~

Warnings: nothing really just some minor cussing when reader goes 😠

Genre: angst to fluff

Word Count: 1k+

{2:36am} A small sad smile ghosted upon your features as your eyes adjust in the dark, focusing on the tiny words on the lit screen held in front of your face. Natsuya.

When it felt like the whole world had forgotten you, pegged you down into the dirt, there was one who cared. Natsuya.

The guy had his own dreams and goals though. Traveling all over the world, doing what he did best, swimming and drinking. And just when you thought that he too, had forgotten about you, he hits you up at the most odd hours of the night.

“Hey...(y/n)? You there?”

Silence.

“(Y/n)?”

Should you answer?

“Aw come on, the silent treatment?”

Idiot.

For as long as you could remember, your best friend had always meant more to you than just your best friend. Of course, being Natsuya, he was oblivious. And when one morning he came to your door, telling you he was going to go take on the world, once again, you put your feelings away, and smiled at him.

“You know, you should stop making such scary faces...Everyone who lays eyes on you will just end up running away.”

“Huh?! You really think that way about me?!” You pushed yourself off the rail offended, looking Natsuya directly in the eyes.

He let out a laugh that made your heart stir. You narrowed your eyes further, but the man just kept laughing, eventually straightening himself and taking a step towards you. Gently, he caressed your fingers, before placing his palm in yours, lifting it up to your chests.

“Don’t stop smiling (y/n), nobody in the world has a better smile than yours.” You let your lips draw back slightly, bringing your other hand up to rest on his holding one.

“You’re the one who put that smile on my face...”

Then he leaned in, amber eyes holding your gaze, his lips just barely hovering over your own. And just when you thought you could meet him the rest of the way, he took the back of his hand to bring your head down, to place a chaste kiss on the tip of your forehead. Your eyes bore into your feet, frustration, but mostly confusion. When you looked up, he had left.

So now when you held the phone loosely to your ear, all you could do was think of the moment back then, 2 years ago. But it had been longer than 2 years that you had burdened yourself with these feelings, suppressed deep below. His voice on the other end had triggered something inside you. All of a sudden you felt a rush of emotions surging through you.

“Hey (y/n)...come on”

And that was it. You broke. Tears raged as you brought the device closer to your open mouth, ready to spew everything you had kept locked away from the moment Natsuya had lend you his hand, asking for your friendship.

Idiot.

“Idiot...” you mumbled, your face further darkening in the already pitch black room.

“Huh?(y/n)?”

“I said Idiot!” Your hand clenched tightly around the phone. “Do you have any idea how long I used to wait, checking my phone every goddamn second to see if you had called. Every fucking night Natsuya, I stayed up for who knows how long, considering the possibility of a time difference, but never saw the damn phone screen light up to the name I wanted to see. And now, when I finally get a chance to sleep, here you are, after two years, asking why I’m giving you the silent treatment?”

You heard his breath hitch.

“Well what do you want me to say Natsuya...hello?...yea hello to you too.” You waited for a response, digging your nails into the sheets when all you received was silence.

“Why do you do this Natsuya...” your voice cracked. “Why do you call me your bestfriend, but can’t even spare me a simple text.” Again, your response was silence. “You’re such an idiot Natsuya you know that? But somehow I still have fucking feelings for you.” You felt like shouting it, screaming it, but the last few words came out barely above a whisper. You held back your breath, eyes stinging from holding back tears. After a while of, again, being met with silence, you were about to hang up and angrily throw your phone across, when a soft voice stopped you.

“(Y/n)...open the door, I wouldn’t want to worry your neighbors at this time.” You froze, eyes wide in shock. Open the door?

You peeled back the sheets, getting up and slowly trudging towards the front door, not caring about your bed head or that you were still in your night gown. You paused for a minute, hand on the door handle, eyes downcast, not wanting to be tempted to look through the peek hole. Cautiously, you opened the door and met the man with unruly hair with a blank face. Natsuya who would always greet you with a wide smile, now looked at you solemnly.

“Well what do you want me to say (y/n)?” You merely lowered your gaze, hand still tight around the door handle.

“Do you want me to lie and say I like you too?” You flinched.

He took a step towards you, his chest just centimeters away from your face. You were about to step back, when a pair of arm wrapped themselves around you and pulled you close. Your eyes burned. What is he trying to do now?

“I love you (y/n)” He stated simply, hold tightening around you, so that your face was now pressed flush against his chest.

“I’m not going to make any excuses, because you’re right, I am an idiot and back then I should have just kiss- “

“Just shut up and hug me Natsuya” It was like all your previous turmoil had vanished away the moment you became encased in his arms. No matter how much you wanted to, you couldn’t stay angry at your bestfriend. Especially now, in your state of bewilderment, the words he just uttered on loop in your head. You pulled back and looked him in the eyes, tears trailing down your cheeks. He leaned in, and it was like you were put back in the same situation two years ago. However this time, it was you who stepped back, just a little, to raise your hand and have it snap across his face. Taken aback, Natsuya stumbled, looking at you startled, hand cradling his stinging cheek.

“That was nothing...I wanted to punch you instead.” You huffed, arms crossed and eyes refusing to meet his. Natsuya pouted as walked back up to you, still slightly in shock.

“The first thing you should have said is I’m sorry.” Arms still crossed, you turned your back towards him. Natsuya chuckled and pulled you in again.

“Right...sorry, I deserved that...but can we go in already?” Natsuya glanced around nervously, hoping that the commotion hadn’t woken up the neighbors. You glared at him, stepping aside to grant him entry. Right when you locked the door and turned around, you were met with eyes full of regret, a hand brought up to soothe redness still tender on his cheek. Although you knew his apologetic expression was over exaggerated, with the puppy eyes and all, you couldn’t help but fall soft. In the end you too, “Love you.”

Natsuya’s eyebrows raised as if he had heard you wrong, and looked at you agape. You shook your head and smiled, “I love you, you big doof.” Natsuya flashed you a charming smile of his own before slyly slipping his hand in yours.

“Nice to know your smile is still as beautiful as ever.” He breathed, leaning down once more, pausing in case you actually do decide to land a punch on him. However this time, you reached out and kissed full force, letting your fingers entangle in his disheveled locks. His hand traveling down your hair and ear, before making its way around your waist to pull you in closer, savoring your long missed scent and touch.

Eventually pulling away, you lightly punched his chest, averting your gaze.

“I still haven’t forgiven you...it’s gonna take a lot more than three words and kissing me to make up for it.”

“Harsh.” Natsuya chuckled, resting his chin on your head, stroking your hair. ~

[vodkanrainbows]

Xefros' Daymare

Well my dudes, I already wrote a fanfic about Dammek having a daymare, so this time Xefros is the one to have a daymare.

Some Background Information: This takes place after the events of Hiveswap, wherein Xefros and Dammek leave their lives on Alternia behind to start fresh (Joey is the one to persuade Xefros into coming back to Earth with her) and stay in Earth. They are now living at the Half-Harley Manor with Joey and Jude. Now that Dammek and Xefros don't have to do Dammek's rebellion, Dammek now devotes his life to spend time with Xefros and has learned how to treat him right (especially after getting yelled at by Joey).

Additional Notes: Dammek and Joey are kismesis, and Xefros and Dammek are no longer moirails, but matesprits instead.

Characters: Dammek, Xefros, Joey (mentioned), Jude (mentioned)

Ships: Xefros ❤ Dammek, Xefros ♦ Dammek (mentioned), Joey ♠ Dammek (mentioned)

Warnings: Red Dammek/Xefros, since some people don't like them being shipped red.

Story below the cut! Enjoy me writing at 4 in the morning :)

Ever since Joey was able to convince Xefros to come to live on Earth with her and her brother, Jude, he has been much happier with his now matesprit, Dammek. The two were able to reconcile after Xefros broke off their Moirallegiance for a few months. They recently got back to dating and officially became matesprites. Xefros had flushed feelings for Dammek since the very beginning, but decided to never tell him in fear of being told that Dammek didn't feel the same and would reject him. So Xefros was extremely surprised (and relieved) when Dammek revealed to Xefros that he indeed felt the same. Since they're no longer having to rebel against Trizza, Dammek now treats Xefros right and they spend a lot of time together.

---

It was a peaceful night at Half-Harley Manor. Everybody was asleep and the manor was a quiet as can be. Dammek and Xefros share a room together and share a bed. Dammek was sleeping just fine, but Xefros was whining softly under his breath in his sleep.

---

Dammek: xeFros, we have to talk.

Xefros: sure! what is it?

Dammek: so i've been thinking...

Dammek: about our relationship together.

Xefros' bloodpusher sank. Uh oh...

Xefros: oh... uh...

Xefros: really?? X:O

Dammek nodded.

Dammek: yes.

Dammek: i think...

Dammek paused for a sec, breaking eye contact with Xefros.

Dammek: we should break up.

Xefros covered his mouth in shock.

Xefros: what?

Xefros: w-why?

Dammek: xeFros, you know i like you a whole lot, but i'm not always gonna have time for you!

Xefros: b-but you said youd always have time for me...

Dammek: that was then, xeFros. things change, y'know?

Xefros' eyes started to well up, burgundy tears threatening to run down his cheeks.

Dammek: i'm sorry, xeFros, but we're done.

Xefros: dammek please

Xefros: dont you DARE leave me!

Xefros was full on crying now, grabbing Dammek by his hoodie sleeve. Dammek was refusing to make eye contact.

Xefros: i-i love you!!! im IN LOVE with you!

Xefros: please!

Xefros: i dont want you to go

Xefros: i love you, i love you, i love you, i love you, i love you, i lov-

Xefros was interrupted when Dammek suddenly yanked his arm out of Xefros' tight grip, which made Xefros fall backwards onto his back. Xefros yelped in pain.

Dammek was now crying as he leaned over Xefros' body currently on the ground.

Dammek: enough!

Dammek: i said we're done! what part of that are you not getting, huh?!

Dammek: just leave me alone, dammit!

Xefros was still laying on his back, looking up at Dammek with blurry vision. Burgundy tears are now violently falling down his cheeks and onto the ground below him. Xefros only whimpered in response to Dammek shouting at him.

Dammek: ...goodbye, xeFros.

Xefros' eyes widened when he heard this, swiftly jolting up into a sitting position, ignoring the pain in his possibly broken back. Xefros suddenly started to scream at Dammek's now disappearing form as Dammek was walking away from Xefros.

Xefros: DAMMEK!!!!

Xefros: NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO DAMMEK PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE DONT LEAVE ME PLEASE!

Xefros stopped screaming when he realized Dammek probably can't hear him anymore. He lie back onto his back as he cried silently to himself.

---

Xefros awoke with a scream.

Xefros: DAMMEK!!!!!!!!

Suddenly, Dammek started moving frantically in the bed, jumping to his feet.

Dammek: xeFros?! what the Fuck happened?!

Xefros was crying.

Xefros: d-dammek?

Dammek turned around to look at Xefros with wide eyes. Dammek got back up into the bed and nestled next to his matesprit. Dammek grabbed Xefros and held on tight.

Dammek: yeah, i'm right here babe

Dammek: what happened?

Dammek: tell me everything, ok?

Xefros was still crying, but he felt a little better with Dammek holding him tightly.

Xefros: i...

Xefros: i had a daymare

Dammek pulled back from Xefros slightly, looking at Xefros with his beautiful eyes. He had no sunglasses on, which gave Xefros a good chance to look into his eyes, which were glowing green because of the pitch darkness that they are sitting in. Xefros is the only one Dammek allows to see him without his trademark shades on. Dammek is extremely insecure about his eyes, which is why he wears them, but Xefros thinks Dammek's eyes are beautiful. Xefros even prefers seeing Dammek without the shades on. "my eyes are only for you, baby," Dammek has told Xefros.

Dammek: a daymare? about what?

Xefros: y-you dumped me...

Dammek: ...what?

Xefros nodded.

Xefros: you said you no longer had time for me...

Xefros: i-i tried to atop you from leaving me a-and you...

Xefros had to gulp and take a deep breath. Dammek rubbed Xefros arms up and down in reassurance.

Dammek: it's okay. tell me more baby.

Xefros: ...y-you started to scream at me telling me to leave you alone and i screamed and screamed for you but you wouldnt come back no matter how loud i screamed...

Xefros: i just...

Xefros: dont want you to leave me!!!!

Dammek jumped at Xefros' sudden shouting, but quickly recovered and sat up a little and straddled Xefros' lap. Dammek put one finger underneath Xefros' chin, forcing Xefros took look at him. Dammek was scowling.

Dammek: hey.

Dammek: look at me, baby. listen carefully For me, ok?

Xefros nodded.

Dammek: xeF, you know that'll never happen. i'll always have time for you. i will not leave your side, no matter what happens.

Dammek: i am not perFect, but i really am trying. i love you so much, always have. even when i was treating you like shit.

Dammek: of course joey would try and convince you that i didn't care about you, and you believed her and you dumped me. you realized that we were meant to be together, so you came back to me and we started the relationship from Fresh.

Dammek: but joey was right about one thing. i was not a good moirail to you. sure i cared about you, but i was too caught up in that stupid rebellion to give you the time we should've spent together. i was selFish. i was bossy and put you through dangerous shit, not caring about the consequences. i hurt you so many Fucking times but you never realized it because of how much you looked up to me. i took advantage of that because i knew you'd always come back to me. jude helped me realize a lot of things, xeFros. he helped me realize that a TRUE Friend wouldn't do the things i did to you. i am glad i came to earth. if the portal wouldn't have activated, we would still be rebelling and i'd still be treating you like shit. hell, we wouldn't even be matesprits right now!

Dammek: so in short, i was a shitty person who didn't treat you right.

Dammek released Xefros chin, putting his hand on Xefros' waist.

Dammek: you are literally the best person in my liFe, you always have been. even back then.

Dammek: i love you so Fucking much, baby. you have no idea.

Suddenly, Xefros shifted and pushed Dammek down into the bed and into the mattress. Xefros was covering Dammek's face in kisses. Dammek laughed.

Dammek: xeFros!!

Xefros made his way from Dammek's face to Dammek's throat, splaying kisses all over there too. Dammek gasped a little, wrapping his arms around Xefros with a growl and bared fangs, as if to protect him. Joey and Jude didn't wake up to Xefros' screams. Dammek didn't really have a reason to growl and show of his fangs like that since Joey and Jude mean no harm at all. He still kinda thinks Joey means harm, but he guesses this is normal since they're now in a black relationship. But Dammek still does this whenever anyone harms his friends.

Xefros stopped kissing Dammek's neck. Dammek still has his arms around Xefros. Damnek buries his head in Xefros' neck, purring.

Xefros: thanks, dammek

Xefros: i feel so much better now...

Dammek's reply was slightly muffled, but Xefros understands him anyways.

Dammek: anything for you, baby.

Dammek and Xefros part.

Dammek: wanna go back to bed?

Xefros: sure

Dammek smiled as he got under the covers with Xefros. Dammek opened his arms for Xefros so they can cuddle. Xefros purrs and quickly accepts Dammek's embrace. Dammek pulls Xefros close to him, kissing Xefros on the lips. They locked lips for a few seconds before they broke the kiss. Xefros buries his face into Dammek's neck before finally closing his eyes and falling asleep. Xefros is so grateful to have Dammek in his life.

[all-hail-the-witcher]

nobody likes a claggy bit of cheese

this idea came to me in mid november while i was watching an episode of the great british bakeoff and crocheting a scarf for my sister while eating a very very healthy college lunch of apple sauce and caramel corn. someone (maybe it was paul) said the word “claggy” and i was like Wow That’s British. and then someone else (probably paul again) said “stodgy” and i was like WoW ThAts BriTisH. and then i was like you know who would appreciate these Very British Words?? my dumb friend who likes to pretend he's british. and thEn i was like Oh Shit what if he hosted great british bakeoff that would be energy oh my god. and i was About to text him that when i was like No Wait! instead of a baking competition it would be a Mac And Cheese competition because that's like,,,his wholes pride and joy. and then i was about to text him that but then i was like wAIT! this has fic written all over it oh my god i can see it now. and now here we are.

also mikey in case you didn't realize, you are my dumb fake british friend and this is your present but i mean its more of your persona slapped on race and i called it a day. its not a mothman shirt but it'll have to do eye guess

anywaymst 

enjoy this trash pile 

_________

ship: eye guess its platonic ralbert

genre: pure ass crack

warnings: uhmmm, race is an idiot, poorly written british accents, paul hollywood stare, uhhh, albert is Annoyed, jack is an idiot who makes bad mac, spot get Angryyy, idk im writing there before the fic is finished, katherine definitely knows the mafia

editing: lol that's funny

words: enough to fill a few pages but not enough to bore you to death like the metamorphosis

_________

“CHEESE!”

Blankets tornadoed around the room as Race jumped off the bed in a half awake sleepy haze, barely landing on his feet in a fight stance, wielding his phone like a weapon in front of him. He glared into the dark corners (not that he could even tell where the corners were considering that it was pitch dark) of the room before stumbling out into the hallway, muttering madly about cheese.

“Cheese...blue cheese…..string cheese…...mozzarella cheese….” Race barely heard his own half-mad whispers as he opened all the cabinets, rummaging around in the same matter a hurricane floods a basement, in a mad search for pasta. When he came up empty handed he scowled, sat himself up on the counter and yelled for the next best thing:

“ALLLLLLLBBEEEEEERRRRRRRRRRT!”

CRASH! That would be Albert falling out of bed. Race kicked his feet against the cabinet impatiently.

WHOOSH! SLAM! And there was Albert’s door opening and closing at an alarming speed.

THUMP! THUMP! THUMP! THUMP! THUMP! The pictures in the living room began to shake, announcing his arrival.

“Race?! What’s going on? Are you okay??” And there was Albert, sliding into the kitchen in nothing but a pair of socks and boxers (despite the fact that it was probably 3 degrees out), weilding a single black converse high top. Race wasn’t quite sure how the shoe was supposed to help him, but he decided to ignore it. He couldn’t afford to get distracted by Albert’s weird antics when there was a legitimate crisis at hand.

“Race…?” Albert asked again, slowly lowering his shoe. “Is everything-” “We’re out of pasta.”

“We’re- what?” The shoe Albert had been holding banged to the floor. “You’re telling me that you woke me up at” he peered at the oven clock over Race’s shoulder, “three fifteen am  to tell me that we’re out of pasta?”

“It’s horrible isn’t it?” Race slammed his head into the cabinet behind him. “Now I can’t make mac and cheese!” “W h y do you want to make mac and fucking cheese at three fifteen in the goddamn morning?!”

“BECAUSE ALBERT-” Race jumped down off the counter, “-I had a dream. A dream where I was competing on The Great British Bakeoff and I made my Famous mac and cheese. And Paul Hollywood, the man, the legend h i m s e l f, tasted my humble mac and said ‘Race. That is amazing.’ And gave me a handshake! And I was so honored that I awoke hungry for the wonderful, delicious, creamy taste of mac and cheese. So I wander into the kitchen and what do I find? A fridge full of cheese, but no pasta to be found!” He stepped closer to Albert, planting his hand firmly on his shoulder. “This is an emergency!”

Albert swatted away Race’s hand and rubbed his eyes, already turning back toward his room. “If Paul Hollywood deemed your mac and cheese so amazing then just hold a competition of your own and make other people make mac and cheese for you. That way I don’t have to go to Walgreens at three thirty.” He glanced back over his shoulder. “I’m going back to bed. Don’t make us lose our security deposit.”

Race stood in stunned silence as Albert disappeared down the hall and his door closed.

“That sleep deprived idiot might actually be onto something,” he muttered, launching himself onto one of the bar stools and opening his laptop. He had work to do.

•••

“You know, when I told you to host your own mac and cheese competition I thought I dreamt that entire encounter, and, now that I realize that I definitely didn’t, I especially didn't expect you to make me host it, and I certainly didn’t expect you to make me wear this dumb costume.” He tugged uncomfortably at the dark blazer and black wig.

“Oi mate, if you’re gonna be Sue yew gotta start actin like ‘er!” Race glared.

“But Race-”

“Thas Paul Hollywood to you. I don want none uh this ‘Race’ business,” he crossed his arms and gave Al his best Steely Eyed, Paul Hollywood Glare.

Albert just rolled his eyes and stomped off.

Race sighed happily as he turned to survey the tent in front of him. He had called Katherine last night after his missing pasta crisis and asked if he could use her Dad’s Hampton’s estate to host a mock version of the Great British Bakeoff but for mac and cheese. Katherine, like any good rebellious daughter, had loved the idea and called several of her “contacts” that apparently “owed her favors.” (Race didn’t understand the life of rich people, it seemed very extravagant and two-faced) And that was how Race had come to be standing in a tent with what could very well be the set up of the Great British Bakeoff laid out in front of him with he himself dressed in his very best blue button down and jeans, a spitting image of Paul Hollywood. Well, maybe Paul Hollywood 30 years ago.

His friends that he had invited on to be the contestants of the show were setting up at their stations. There was Jack, Davey, Romeo, Mush, Blink, Finch, Buttons, Specs, JoJo, Spot, Crutchie, and Smalls. Katherine had opted not to participate and instead film everyone to make it seem more like the actual show.

Someone (probably Katherine) had forced Albert to stand next to him to announce the signature challenge that they had prepared.

“Alright bakers-”

Race shot him a side glance.

“-er, mac and cheese cookers?” he tried to amend. “Today Ra-uh, Paul would like you to make a nice, hefty batch of mac and cheese. You may use whatever ingredients you would like, but he would like it to be cheesy, delicious, and contain pasta. You have 45 minutes.” Race could practically hear the sigh in his voice. “On your marks, get set, ba-cOOK!”

Finally, Race thought as his friends scrambled around their respective stations, I’m going to get some good mac.

•••

It was becoming very clear very quickly that Race may not actually be getting any good mac.

He wandered from station to station, Albert following begrudgingly behind him, progressively becoming more and more disappointed in each and every one of his friends. Didn’t any of them know how to cook?

“Roight Jack.” He leaned on the one empty scrap of counter in front of him. “What are yew makin?”

“It’s a surprise.” Jack - well he assumed it was Jack, he couldn’t really be sure with all the flour flying everywhere - ran around his workspace, which was crowded with every ingredient imaginable, from shredded cheese to, was that maple syrup?

“Jack for the sake of the show yew gotta tell us what yew’re makin.” Jack must not have the braincell today.

From somewhere in the flour cloud a timer went off. Jack yelped and dropped what sounded like several pots with an amazingly loud clatter.

“If you really must know - ouch!! - I’m making - god fUCK! - baked mac and cheese with a - SHIT! - crispy top.”

“Alright well,” Albert dodged a flying blob of flaming cheese, “we’ll leave you to it. Hopefully we get to actually eat something edible.”

“Good luck,” Race turned away from Jack’s workstation and leaned towards Albert as they made their way to Mush’s station. “Do we ave a foire extinguishah here?”

“I think so?”

“Good cause we moight need it.” Albert looked at him knowingly for a long minute before the two of them snapped out of it and approached Mush.

“So Mush,” Race said, taking in the polar opposite of the mess of a station that had been Jack’s, “what ave yew got for us?”

Mush smiled, looking up from the block of cheese that he had been grating. “Today I’m going to be making my signature mac and cheese with three kinds of cheese.”

Race let out an audible sigh of relief. Finally something that sounded edible!

“Is that pleasing enough for you, Your Highness?” Mush winked mischievously and Albert giggled.

Race straightened up, checking his mouth for drool (there was none). “Yes, oim looking forward tew it.” He watched as the cheese mush was grating flaked satisfyingly into the bowl, his mouth watering at the very sight and thought of cheese. Oh cheese. Beautiful, rich, delicious cheese. “Oi would like tew sample some cheese if yew don't mind.”

Mush straightened up, putting his hands around his cheese protectively. “And I want someone to slap me so hard my eyes fall out. We can’t all get what we want, Susan B. Anthony.”

“Hollywood, moi name is Paul Hollywood.” Race glared at Mush, horrified that he would decline him the judge a cheese sample! Paul Hollywood always got ingredient samples when he asked for them! Maybe he should have put more effort into his hair today…

“I know very well who you are,” Mush went back to grating his cheese. It was as if he were mocking Race with every bit of shredded goodness that fell onto the glorious cheese mountain.

“I do believe you’ve upset Mr. Hollywood.” Albert smirked. Of course he had to join in on the make-Race-feel-like-hes-being-mocked party.

“I don’t particularly care about Mr. Hollywood’s feelings,” Mush put down the grater and reached under his counter for a pan. “What I do care about is the fate of my mac and cheese so,” he stared at the two of them, deadpan , “be gone Thots.”

“But-”

“I SAID BE GONE THOTS!” Mush pointed a wooden spoon at the two of them menacingly and Race half expected sparks to shoot out of the end like some kind of sorcery bullshit, but all he got was a cloud of flour to the face and twelve sets of confused eyes looking at him.

“Uhh,” he mustered every ounce of Paul Hollywood that he could, “thank yew Mush.” Quickly he turned away, brushing the flour out of his sharpied on beard and mustache while Albert stifled laughter next to him. “Shut up,” he muttered.

“But that was-”

“Oi said shut- oh hoi Smalls!” He tried desperately to regain his composure as they approached the final station.

“Gucci Prada my fuckin clown wig I- oh, uh, hi!” Smalls quickly put the spatula that she had been holding behind her back.

“What are yew makin for uh today?” Race took in Smalls’s station. There was a wide array of cheese on the counter, we well as spices and breadcrumbs and pasta. But something seemed...different.

Smalls looked down at her feet, suddenly very interested in the carpet.. “I’m making gluten free baked mac and cheese.”

“Why gluten free?”

“Because,” Smalls glanced behind her briefly before hissing, “because that was the only kind of pasta I could find in my cabinet that's why you feet fucker.”

Race’s toes tingled with happiness. He do it! He could say the trademark Paul Hollywood meme thing!

“Now, when yew make mac and cheese gluten free it tends to get stickey and lose some of its taiste. Ave yew tested this to make sure that wont appen?”

“Y e s,” Smalls rolled her eyes. “I put extra oil in it so the pasta wont get sticky a n d there’s lots of spices for added flavor.” She brought her spatula out from behind her back in a soldiers salute. “I won’t disappoint you, your Highness Mr. Paul Hollywwod Sir.”

“Yew bettah not,” Race laughed as he walked back to his very official looking director’s chair (he didn’t want to know how many people Katherine had had to kill to get this).

“Sue, how much toime is left?”

“TEN MINUTES COOKERS, TEN MINUTES!”

There were varying screams of frustration from around the room as his friends scrambled to get done. The smell of cooking cheese wafted from several ovens and stoves and Race smiled contentedly. Twas almost Mac Time.

•••

Ten minutes later, as promised, Race was standing behind a Very Official looking wooden table with a fork and a glass of water, ready to taste (or spit out, depending on whose it was), his friends’ mac and cheese.

“Oilright, Davey, why don’t yew bring up yewr mac.”

Davey strode up to the table confidently, somehow without a spec of food on his apron, and placed down a plate of gooey looking pasta. Man oh man he was excited! But no, today he was Paul Hollywood. No excitement. Only glares.

He picked up his fork and took a scoop of pasta, glaring at Davey for good measure as he tasted.

He chewed for far longer than actually necessary to give Davey just enough time to get nervous before giving his verdict. “Whot yew’ve actually done is quite noice, Oi rather loike the blend of the cheddar and the goat cheese, but what yew’ve done is create something that’s so soft that its lacking textah. It’s loike Oi need somethin crunchy to offset it.”

Davey nodded. “Okay.”

“But overall noice job.” He nodded, the silent cue for Davey to take his dish and return to his station.

Race surveyed the contestants and grimaced. “Jack bring yew’re flamin bomb up here.”

He thought he heard Jack mutter some half-decent curses under his breath, but not decent enough for him to repeat.

A few seconds later a lump of orange stuff with green (???) blobs on top on a plate was placed in front of him. “Roight,” he sighed. “What ave yew got there?”

“Well this is my baked mac and cheese with green goldfish topping!” Jack said proudly.

Race looked at the plate as if it were a flesh eating disease that could kill him at any second. And, knowing Jack’s track record with food, it just might. “Any reason why you chose green goldfish?”

“Adds a pop of color!” Jack bounced on his toes.

Good gosh. Race took the tiniest bite possible on his fork and lifted it to his mouth-

“Make sure you get a goldfish!” Jack insisted. “Really adds a burst of flavor!”

“Oh sure, sure.” Race picked one up before shoving the whole abomination into his mouth. He chewed for a few seconds before swallowing down as best as he could.

“Wow that is pitiful,” Race coughed. “The pasta is overcooked, and the cheese, yew’ve cooked it too much so that it’s become gummy, and all the moistah has gone into the goldfish and made them soggy.”

“Oh,” Jack sounded deflated.

“Overall the textah is a bit claggy, and no one loikes a claggy bit of cheese.”

“Right, right.” Jack stroked his invisible beard.

“Overall its dreadful and Oi’d loike it if you removed it from my sights, preferably to the bin. Next!”

•••

Almost a half hour later Race was practically done testing all of the mac and cheese, save for Mush’s and Smalls’s. Along with Jack’s trashpile, Spot’s had also been notably horrible, it was somehow burnt and undercooked at the same time? Race didn’t even want to know. Crutchie’s and JoJo’s though had been surprisingly decent, and both were in the running to win.  

“Oilroight Smalls, bring up yewr mac why don’t yew.”

A few moments later a plate of mac and cheese was dumped in front of Race with no class whatsoever. “Here you go Mr. Paul Sir.”

Race stabbed his fork into the pile of noodles. “This was the gluten free baked mac and cheese, roight?” “Yes your highness.”

Race rolled the noodles around on his tongue for a few long moments while his taste buds analyzed the flavor combinations.

“Roight so, I warned yew about this bein tasteless roight?” Smalls quirked up her eyebrow. “It’s tasteless isn’t it.”

“Yes. Get it away from me at once.”

“Of course, your lordship.” Smalls snatched the plate from the table, even curtsying to Race before making her way back to her station, picking up a fork, and digging into her own mac and cheese.

“I don't know what you’re talking about Mister Colonel Hollywood Sir, this tastes great!”

Race bushed imaginary crumbs off of his table. “And Oi’m goin tew pretend Oi didn’t hear that.” He pointed to Mush. “Mush, bring up yewr creation, if yew pleathe.”

“But of course!” Mush placed down his plate of mac and cheese in front of Race, who dug in immediately. “What you have there is parmesan, cheddar, and american cheese with elbow pasta. Enjoy.”

Race let the glorious noodles glide over his tongue as his palate was enveloped in a wonderful cheese flavor. He was amazed. He was astounded. Hell he was even speechless! What did Paul Hollywood do when he was speechless? Oh right!

“Well done Mush,” he stuck out his hand for the famous Paul Hollywood Handshake. “That’s a really great plate you’ve made.”

“Oh, thank you sir!” Mush smiled joyfully as Albert tried to sneak a bite of the mac and cheese. Race swatted his hand away with his other hand.

“In fact, it’s the best that Oi’ve had today, and Oi announce yew as Star Cooker!”

The room erupted into cheers and everyone ran to hug Mush while Race quickly finished his mac and cheese. His plan had worked perfectly. The next time he was out of pasta at three am he knew exactly who to call.

•••

“Hello? Do you need help burying the body?” A tired voice answered the phone.

“Mush, it’s Race. I’m craving mac and cheese and I don't have any pasta. Can you-”

“NO!”

_________

so how bout that huh

anyway sappy boi hours heh i love mikey and im real happy that were friends cause he's the absolute best and i cant wait to meet him next week eeee

feedback is always appreciated hmu to be on the tag list

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[wildroseofarran]

Moving Day || Tristan, Meg, & Jeremiah

Tristan: It had been nearly two weeks since Tristan's meeting with Jeremiah and a full week of Ronan telling him several times a day that he needed to get in touch with him so he could get laid.

Tristan didn't plan on doing that any time soon, but he did need to get in touch with Jeremiah. Especially once his mother had told him that she'd found a couple of potential places for Jeremiah to live.

{Text to Sunshine Man} Hey Sunshine Man :)

Jeremiah: Jeremiah smiled at the sight of the message. That must mean an apartment has been found, right?! Dobby will soon be a free elf!

{Text: Tristan} ACK! A WILD FISHERMAN APPEARS

{Text: Tristan} SUNSHINE MAN USES: HEY, HOW ARE YOU?

Tristan: Oh, god. He'd forgotten how quickly and easily this man could get a smile out of him.

{Text} I'm doing good!

{Text} You?

Jeremiah: {Text} Good!

He sent a picture of himself in a bright yellow hoodie, hugging a boxset of Batman: The Animated Series

{Text} I've clearly been VERY busy!! How's your 1000 injuries?

Tristan: Tristan chuckled.

{Text} They've mostly healed. Got some new scars to add to my collection.

{Text} Too busy to have breakfast with my mama and find a new place to live?

Jeremiah: {Text} That's good!!!

{Text} I sent that message too quickly before I finished reading what you wrote It isn't good that you're gonna have scars im sorry

{Text} Unless you think it's a good thing in which case it's totally a good thing and I take back what I said!!!

{Text} But if you think it's a bad thing I'm sorry.

{Text} You shouldn't think it's a bad thing though Im sure they look great and that you'll make peace with them!

{Text} Unless they ruin your self-esteem in which case I'll help you look into ways of removing scars, if that's what you want. In which case that's okay.

{Text} Tristan: Tristan's face already hurt, this was ridiculous. Completely ridiculous. He was far too old to be having this kind of reaction to a happy man being himself.

{Text} I'm just fine with my scars, sunshine man, your reaction is fine

{Text} How about tomorrow? I can come pick you up around 9 and we can go to the bakery

Jeremiah: {Text} 9? am? That still exists? They haven't cancelled that yet?

{Text} I'll do my best O Captain, My Captain! See you then! : D

Tristan: {Text} We could make it 9:30 if 9 is too early? Or 10 even

Jeremiah: {Text} NOW I FEEL BAD

{Text} Please make it for 10 my body would appreciate it...

Tristan: He laughed.

{Text} 10 it is XD

{Text} See you tomorrow!

Jeremiah: {Text} Thanks!!! See ya. Take care!

He should probably... go to sleep right now...

Tristan: After texting Jeremiah, Tristan called his mom and told her they'd meet her at the bakery tomorrow at ten and to save them a table if she got there first.

The next morning at 9:50, he was knocking at Jeremiah's door.

Jeremiah: Tristan would hear gasping.

"You're EARLY!!"

Tristan: "It's ten!" Tristan laughed.

Jeremiah: "Ten TO ten!" and now for frantic attempts of dressing and drying after spending forty minutes singing in the shower.

Tristan: "Close enough! Sorry, I tried really hard to be late."

Jeremiah: "You didn't try HARD ENOUGH. You have a BOAT, you could've been HOURS late!"

Tristan: "I didn't sail here!" he chuckled. "I drove. And being hours late would've been rude."

Jeremiah: He opens the door, adjusting the collar around his neck. Why is it so - oh. His shirt is on backwards. He'll just... slowly... close the door and fix that...

Tristan: Jeremiah would be greeted with a grin that slowly became a laugh as the door closed.

Jeremiah: Okay! The door swung open again to reveal Jeremiah and his wide smile.

"Hi!"

Tristan: Tristan smiled back. "Well good morning, sunshine man. Ready for food?"

Jeremiah: "Pff. Always." He checks he has everything and then steps forward to shut the door behind him.

Tristan: "Then follow me." Tristan led them back downstairs and out to his truck.

"It doesn't smell like fish, promise," he said as he opened the door for Jeremiah.

Jeremiah: "I'll be the judge of that, sir." he replies as he gets into the truck. He looks around, inspecting everything, especially what was or wasn't hung over the rear-view mirror.

Tristan: "It's clean!" He closed the door and made his way around the truck.

Which it was. He'd taken extra care to make sure his truck was clean in preparation for today, and had even hung an air freshener from his rearview mirror along with the various bits of sea glass and seashells that were already there.

Jeremiah: "Hey I've got a question." he says when Tristan joins him in the truck. "Why can people hear the ocean in seashells? What's that about?"

Tristan: "It's not really the ocean," Tristan said as he pulled onto the road. "It's the ambient noise resonating inside the walls of the shell. The pitch of the sound depends on the size of the shell, how much air is in it, that kinda thing. But, boring facts aside, that resonating happens to sound like waves crashing on a shore."

Jeremiah: "Hey! That's so not boring." He got comfortable in the seat, looking at the other. "Pretty cool, and sad. People think they're hearing something... big and open but they're really just hearing a small little shell. It's like... the illusion of freedom."

Tristan: "I think it's just this very human need to inject wonder into our everyday lives. It's sad if that's the only source of wonder in someone's life, though."

Jeremiah: Hmm...

"I think that's good. The injecting wonder into the mundane part. Like, there's nothing wrong in being amazed by everything. Look at this truck! How awesome is it that all you have to do is push your feet and move your arms and this super heavy piece of machinery does what you tell it to?! And how cool is it that your phone is literally just wires and electricity and you can TALK TO PEOPLE INSTANTLY?!"

Tristan: No one on earth would be short of wonder in their lives with Jeremiah around. His sense of wonder was healthy enough for ten people.

"You're absolutely right. We're literally living in the future we imagined as children. We've got electric cars and VR videogames and huge, colorful cities, and bullet trains and AI."

Jeremiah: "And yet we STILL haven't found a way to keep boats from tipping over when waves are a bit big!"

Tristan: "Ah well, Mother Nature can't be contained with technology."

Jeremiah: "What about with hover boats?"

Tristan: “Those defy physics.”

Jeremiah: "In WHAT WORLD?"

Tristan: “In this one,” he chuckled. “Mother Nature doesn’t keep you on the ground, gravity does.”

Jeremiah: "Listen. The more you learn about science, the less you know and understand. The possibilities are endless. Hover boats will totally be a thing one day!"

Tristan: “They kind of are. Don’t know if they actually hover but they’re called hover boats.”

Jeremiah: LOUD GASP.

"GET ONE!!"

Tristan: “I’d have nowhere to put it! Or any use for it for that matter.”

Jeremiah: "NO USE FOR A HOVER BOAT?!"

Tristan: "I already have a ship and a car!" he laughed. "Got land and water travel covered."

Jeremiah: "What about air travel, Tristan? What. About. That?!"

Tristan: “Plane.”

Jeremiah: "And DO you have a plane?!"

Tristan: “No, but it’s super easy to get a plane ticket whenever I need to fly somewhere, which is almost never.”

Jeremiah: "That's not the same. Soz, dude."

Tristan: Tristan laughed. “Be that as it may, I don’t think the hover boats we currently have actually fly. I think they float like...an inch off the ground?”

Jeremiah: "Huh. I wonder how much power it takes just to float an inch above the ground. They should make salt-water fueled boats and wind-powered airplanes. That just makes SENSE."

Tristan: “It does. But the people in charge rarely do things that make sense.”

Jeremiah: Jeremiah gasped, "Don't talk about the people in charge!" He whispered, "They're probably listening right now!"

Tristan: “You’re right,” Tristan whispered back. Then, at normal volume, “I mean of course they made the right decisions! And so smart too!”

Jeremiah: "SO SMART, WOW I WISH I COULD BE THEM. SO MUCH RESPECT."

Tristan: “Right? I feel so safe all the time!”

Jeremiah: "I don't know about you, but I never ever cover my laptop webcam with tape because of how safe I feel. Also Black Mirror should be cancelled."

Tristan: “Well of course not, there’s definitely not some random FBI dude watching our every move. Completely insane. Black Mirror is trash TV.”

He was trying his best not to laugh as he parked in front of the bakery.

Jeremiah: Jeremiah grinned tapped his index to his lips. Yep! Keep it shtum!

He stretched when the car parked and went to open the car door. "Is she already here?"

Tristan: “Um....” Tristan got out and looked around for his mom’s little convertible. “No, not yet. Let’s grab a table. Inside or out?”

Jeremiah: "Uhhhhh INSIDE 'cause otherwise you have to deal with flies!"

Tristan: “Inside it is,” he said with a grin.

The door was held open for Jeremiah.

Jeremiah: "Damn, you really know how to treat a lady!" His smile matched Tristan's as he entered and looked around.

Tristan: “I try my best. Hey, Laura!” he called to the woman behind the counter.

“Hi! I’m out of blueberry muffins, you have to wait for the next batch.”

“And my mama says she knows me better than I know myself.”

Laura chuckled. “Your mama stopped feeding you breakfast every day. Sit, I’ll bring you some coffee.”

“Coffee and...” Tristan turned to Jeremiah. “What would you like to drink?”

Jeremiah: Awwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww Tristan is a blueberry muffin man!! Muffins must look so small in his big beefy fisherman hands.

"A STRAWBERRY MILKSHA- I mean. Coffee. Pfft. I'm an adult. Coffee. Tea. Water. Taxes. I'm-" gonna go sit down now.

Tristan: Laura's face was a mixture of confusion, amusement of delight as she looked to Tristan for some clarification.

"Two coffees and a glass of orange juice," he said, following Jeremiah to the table.

Jeremiah: .............. Dammit Jeremiah doesn't LIKE coffee!

"So excited about my coffee." he sat down and folded and refolded the napkin. "So - such a - coffee. Caffeine.  Because I don't have enough energy naturally."

Tristan: Tristan just grinned and watched Jeremiah be flustered for a little bit.

"Coffee's for my mama. Ordered you juice."

Jeremiah: "... Oh. Cool. Cool, cool, cool. Thanks." he pushed the napkin aside. "I lied, I don't like coffee and I'm not an adult, I'm sorry."

Tristan: "No problem. I don't think I count as an adult either so don't even worry about it."

Jeremiah: "Really?! Do you watch cartoons?"

Tristan: "Old ones, yeah. Looney Tunes, Yogi, that kinda thing."

Jeremiah: "Awwww that's cute. Little blueberry muffin man."

Tristan: "Wait, what?" he chuckled. "Little blueberry muffin man?"

Jeremiah: "Yeah! Didn't that individual over there say you're basically addicted to blueberry muffins?"

Tristan: "Addicted is a strong word. I just have one a minimum of three times a week and prefer them over all other muffins."

Jeremiah: "That's just what an addict would say!" Jeremiah placed a hand on Tristan's, "It's okay. We'll get you help."

Tristan: He laughed. "Just wait until you see these muffins, you'll understand completely."

That was the sight Meg walked in on. Her son's happy, laughing face as a handsome man she didn't recognize touched his hand.

Could this be...?

"Oh, hey, Meg!"

Laura's voice turned her attention away at the same moment it drew Tristan's away from his companion.

"Hey, ma!"

Jeremiah: Jeremiah looked up, standing with a smile.

"Hi!" he waved, "I'm Jeremiah, the homeless guy."

Tristan: Oh, goodness, there was a lot to process here. Focus, Megan, she told herself.

"Hello, Laura! And hello to the two of you!"

She approached the table and held out a hand to Jeremiah. "I'm Meg, the fisherman's mama. And I'd say you're far from homeless, the Wayside is lovely. Lovely but not a permanent home." She sat in the chair Tristan pulled out for her and kissed his cheek in greeting.

Jeremiah: Jeremiah hesitated but didn't want to be rude. He'll just ignore the visions. He can do it!!! He took her hand and shook it, smiling widely at them both.

"Awwww." He said to the little kiss, "I won't say that I'm jealous out loud but just know that I totally am. Parent kisses are the best kisses." He returned to his seat. "Did you have to travel far to get here?"

Tristan: Meg smiled. "Well all of Tristan's friends have called me mama for as long as I can remember so if the spirit moves you, go on and do the same." She shook her head. "Not at all, my house isn't too far off the square. Ya'll been waiting long?"

Tristan shook his head. "Nope, just got here a little while ago. Ordered you coffee. Here it comes now."

"Aw, thank you, baby. And thank you, Laura."

"No problem!" Laura set down two mugs of coffee and a giant glass of orange juice for Jeremiah. "What are ya'll having this morning?"

Jeremiah: Mama?? Jeremiah probably took that a little too to heart. He had never had a mother. He wondered what it was like.

"Thank you!!! Do you do waffles?!" The deep train of thought came to an abrupt stop at the thought of food.

Tristan: Laura grinned. "Yes, we do, and let me tell you I fought hard for them to be on the menu. We do them topped with powdered sugar and your choice of fruit."

Jeremiah: "Well then you're an ANGEL and I choose strawberries and you're the ruler of all the land. Also this orange juice is the best thing I've ever had and I haven't even tasted it yet, I just know."

Tristan: Watching Laura's reaction was like a flashback to watching Elsie's. Her face lit up and her cheeks colored ever so faintly.

"Goodness! You just made my whole entire week!" she chuckled. "You're getting a whole heap of strawberries." She turned to Tristan. "Your weight in blueberry muffins for you." Not a question, a statement that went uncontested by Tristan. "And for you, Meg?"

"Give me one of the cheese souffles."

"All rightie, will do. Back in a sec."

Jeremiah: "A cheese soufflé?? That's a thing?" Whispered to Meg, as if it was a secret.

Tristan: She nodded. "Not just a cheese souffle. A four cheese souffle."

Jeremiah: Jeremiah gasped. "People who are lactose intolerant must seriously hate it."

Tristan: "They really must. It's a shame, really. They're missing out."

Jeremiah: "I bet it's delicious. I hope you enjoy it!"

Tristan: "You should try it sometime! They make one with spinach, too."

Jeremiah: "I will! Will you come back here with me so I can? Wouldn't feel right without you. It would be like... if there was a bunch of leaves everywhere but no trees. Just wrong. And kinda scary."

Tristan: Another one bites the dust, Tristan thought, smiling as he watched his mother be utterly charmed by Jeremiah. The sunshine man had a real talent for that.

"Aren't you the sweetest? Where on earth did Tristan find you? All his friends are salty sailors."

Jeremiah: "It was my birthday so I was having a birthday meal and Tristan got sat next to me and told me happy birthday and I said 'you too' and then died and came back to life."

Tristan: Meg laughed, not unkindly. "Well it's good someone finally said it to him. He forgets it every other year."

Jeremiah: "FORGETS his birthday?" He looked at Tristan incredulously.

Tristan: Tristan squinted at his mother before saying, "I'm a busy man! Days start to blur when you have to get up before the asscrack of dawn every day."

Jeremiah: "When is it??" He brought out his phone so that he could make a note in his calendar.

Tristan: “March fifteenth,” said Tristan. “I get all the Caesar jokes.”

Jeremiah: "Wait... we met on February 28th... and it's been... so your birthday is..." He counts on his fingers.

Tristan: “In a couple of days,” Meg supplied.

Jeremiah: "OH MY - WHAT ARE WE GONNA DO FOR IT?! Or, y'know. What are you gonna do for it? I totally don't expect to be invited if you do something, even though I would definitely day yes, but you gotta do something!"

Tristan: Meg chuckled and looked at her son. “Go on, Tristan. Tell him what you’re gonna do for your birthday.”

“.....Work.”

Jeremiah: The light in Jeremiah's eyes died. He picked up his orange juice and leaned back in his seat, sipping and judging Tristan at the same time.

Tristan: “Aw, come on now. Tourist season is upon us, people are placing bigger orders.”

Jeremiah: "Theeeeeen let me help! One more person would make the whole thing quicker, right? We can do it, you can get off work earlier and celebrate without missing out!"

Tristan: “I can’t ask you to work for me on my birthday.”

“Just bother him until he takes the day off,” Meg offered. “He gets real annoyed if you send him multiple texts in a row.”

Jeremiah: Jeremiah laughed, "What?! I always send like a thousand in one go! I must seriously piss you off. Oops - sorry!" He covered his mouth, looking at Meg. "Ironic that I have the sailor mouth, huh?"

Tristan: “Oh honey, you’re fine, I’ve heard worse. The kind of texts I’m talking about aren’t multiple helpful texts.” She smiled at her son’s glare. “They’re the kind where you send one for every word in a sentence.”

Jeremiah: "I mean... I definitely do that. Do you hate me, Tristan?!" He gasped. "You should take the day off work on your birthday to decide whether or not you hate me. The fishes will still be there the next day."

Tristan: Tristan shook her head. “Nope. You’re nowhere near her level. She’s an English major, she finds the most complicated way to structure a sentence and then goes and sends me texts that only have a comma. She’ll break you.”

Jeremiah: Jeremiah grinned. "Please do it to me!"

Tristan: “Look what you did, Megan.”

Meg burst out laughing.

Jeremiah: Fear and confusion flashed over Jeremiah's face. He was ready to clear the table so that her swing wouldn't knock anything other... but she... laughed...

White people... are wild...

"Did y- did- uh-" he's broken.

Tristan: “Mama has a troll sense of humor, forgive her.”

“I hang around college students all day, blame them.” She smiled at Jeremiah. “I would love to send you whole sentences in individual texts. I also still say you should talk Tristan into taking his birthday off.”

Jeremiah: He leaned across the table and whispered to her, "Do you think I have that kind of power? With great power comes great responsibility..."

Tristan: She nodded. “I really think you do. I believe in you.” Look how much you already make him smile and laugh, she added in her head.

Jeremiah: He hummed and leaned back.

"Sir Tristan! I now declare you not working on your birthday!" He grabs a napkin and pretends to bang it on the table. "COURT ADJOURNED!"

Tristan: Tristan gave a good-natured chuckle. He should’ve known her mom would take to Jeremiah enough to gleefully enter into cahoots with him.

“What if I take a half day?”

Jeremiah: "Then I'll work with you. Is that what you want? Really? I'll end up making friends with the fish or feeling bad for them and sending them back in the water. You might as well take the whole day."

Tristan: "A couple of hours early in the morning then. I have traps I need to bait and check."

Jeremiah: "Can't the dude you work with do it?"

Tristan: "I'm the one with the ship."

Jeremiah: "What's the worst that could happen if you didn't work at all?"

Tristan: "Well..." Okay, you got him there.

Jeremiah: Jeremiah slyly offered his hand down the side of the table for Meg to give him a low high five.

Tristan: She grinned and high-fived him as Laura came over with their breakfast.

"Here we go. Waffle with strawberries, blueberry muffin, and four cheese souffle. Ya'll need anything else?"

Jeremiah: "Yaaaaaay!" He made room for everyone's food. "WAIT! You gotta put a candle in the muffin, it's almost Tristan's birthday!"

Tristan: "Aww, did he actually remember this year?"

Jeremiah: "Yep! He even got the day off."

Tristan: "Well how about that! I'd say that earns him a candle. Any preference?" she asked Tristan.

"Surprise me." Might as well lean into it.

"Will do."

Jeremiah: "Yaaaaaaay..." Jeremiah quietly cheered, clapping a little.

Tristan: Tristan smiled. "Proud of yourself?"

Jeremiah: "VERY."

Tristan: Tristan and Meg both laughed. "At least there's that."

Laura returned with a candle shaped like a mermaid tail. "Felt appropriate," she said, sticking it in the muffin and lighting it with a lighter she'd also brought with her. "Make a wish and blow it out."

Jeremiah: Ooooh, yeeeees! Jeremiah clapped more. A wiiiiiish! Yaaaay!

Tristan: Tristan thought for a moment and blew out the candle, while Meg and Laura joined Jeremiah in his quiet applause.

"Did you make it a good one?" Meg asked.

"Tried to. We'll see if it comes true."

Jeremiah: "WHAT WAS IT?! Wait don't tell me!" He covered his ears.

Tristan: He laughed. "You wouldn't wanna hear it anyway, it's boring."

Jeremiah: "Is it about fish?"

Tristan: "Nope, not about fish."

Jeremiah: "Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm weather? More muffins?!"

Tristan: "You told me not to tell!" he chuckled.

Jeremiah: Dammit!

"I WAS JUST TESTING YOU." nice save. Now eat your waffle, Jer.

Tristan: "Uh huh, sure." He grinned as he took a giant bite of muffin and proceeded to sigh happily.

Jeremiah: He tucks in, making a similar noise of pleasure.

"Laura you're the best!!"

Tristan: "Thanks, honey!" Laura called from the counter.

Jeremiah: He gave a thumbs up in her general direction before continuing to chow down.

"Oh! I almost forgot. Literally the reason we're here. You think you've found me a place?"

Tristan: "Oh! Yes." Meg nodded and set her fork down for a moment. "I have a few potentials, one of which I strongly advise against unless you're willing to take the risk. Charlie Brandt, the owner of O'Charlie's bar, has a little 'apartment' above his garage that he's renting."

Tristan immediately shook his head. "No, not there."

Meg nodded, that's the one I was going to advise against."

Jeremiah: "... Why not there? Who's Charlie Brandt, the owner of O'Charlie's bar?"

Tristan: "Let's just say it's the grossest and shadiest bar in Edenton. Charlie himself isn't that much better."

Jeremiah: "... It's uh- it's gonna be a hard pass on that one, Meg. What else ya got?"

Tristan: She nodded. "I figured. Another possibility is renting one of the smaller cabins that are scattered around here. The man who owns them all isn't that fussy, he just cares that your rent is paid on time."

Jeremiah: "Where are they?"

Tristan: "Scattered near the coast and around the woods," said Tristan.

Jeremiah: "Like a dead body?" He whispered.

Tristan: "I promise there are no dead bodies, sunshine man. Just pretty, peaceful cabins in your choice of scenery."

Jeremiah: "A cabin. In the woods. There's LITERALLY THOUSANDS OF HORROR MOVIES ABOUT THAT!"

Tristan: "They're not murdery, they're nice. Lots of people rent all year, plenty of people nearby."

Jeremiah: "... What's the other option?"

Tristan: "Third option is an apartment. There's a complex of outdoor apartments that might work.  But honestly, I'd go for one of the cabins. One of the ones near the beach if you don't like the woods. They a little bigger and more private. But of course, the choice is yours."

Jeremiah: "Oooh a beach! That could be cool?" He was looking to Tristan for approval.

Tristan: "I'd go for that, too. Mind you the ones I've seen aren't right on the beach. Ultimately, price is the deciding factor."

"Price wise Charlie wins by a longshot," said Meg. "But once again, no offense to Charlie, I don't think that's a good idea."

Jeremiah: "... Oh." Uh... "I don't really have... that much."

Tristan: "In that case, I have another potential. One I was only going to bring up if I liked you, which I do."

Jeremiah: "Awww, yay! What is it?"

Tristan: Meg smiled. "I have a spare room I've been thinking about renting. I don't have any pets, I don't smoke, my neighborhood is friendly, quiet, and nice. I tend to stay up late to grade papers but my home office is in my garage which I converted years ago so the light and noise doesn't reach the bedrooms. If you feel comfortable--and feel free to think about it--you are welcome to rent the spare room."

Jeremiah: "Wh..." He blinked. "I mean I - for now at least I can't pay you by card, and..." He scratched his head, "would you be okay with that?" Asked to both Tristan and Meg.

Tristan: "Card or cash doesn't matter to me. I'd actually prefer cash, cards annoy me. And I'd be willing to discount your rent if you agree to mow the lawn. Those are my terms."

Jeremiah: .... Tristan???? This offer is sounding really good???? Are you okay with this???

Tristan: Tristan simply smiled. He wasn't even surprised; this was exactly the type of thing his mother had done all his life. Probably all her life.

All he said was, "Her yard isn't too big, it's a good deal. And there's always cookies in the cookie jar."

Jeremiah: "YOU HAD ME AT COOKIES. I'd love to! I swear I'll be SUPER clean! Thank you so much!"

Tristan: Meg laughed. "All right, good. I was serious about the lawn thing. I will discount your rent to avoid ever touching the lawn mower again."

Jeremiah: "I'm crazy clums- I mean. I'm epic at mowing. I promise you won't regret this! Yay! Thank you!"

Tristan: "I believe in you, sunshine man," Tristan said with a smile.

"I do, too."

Jeremiah: 'Awww. Gonna make me blush."

Tristan: "It's a risk we're going to have to take." Meg finished off her coffee just as Laura swept by with another. "Just let me know when you wanna come see it and then move in."

Jeremiah: "Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh now? Wait, this isn't like a Get Out kinda situation, is it?"

Tristan: "Sure, we can do it today," she chuckled. "What's Get Out?"

Jeremiah: "You haven't seen Get Out?!"

Tristan: "Name doesn't ring a bell."

Jeremiah: "Guess when we're living together we're gonna have to have loads of movie nights, huh? And Tristan can come! Have you seen Get Out?"

Tristan: "No, but I can tell you now you're neeeever gonna get her to watch it. Megan don't do horror movies."

"It's a horror movie!?"

Tristan smiled and gestured as if to say 'see?'.

Jeremiah: "ACTUALLY according to the Oscars or whatever some people think it's a comedy so you're okay!"

Tristan: Meg squinted. "But is it really a comedy?"

Jeremiah: "To... some people. Some parts. Kinda."

Tristan: "I'm gonna have to disappoint you, honey. Can't do it."

Jeremiah: "Even if Tristan holds your hand?!"

Tristan: "Tristan thinks it's hilarious to see me suffer during horror movies."

Jeremiah: Jeremiah gasped.

"Bad son!" He threw a napkin at him. "Actually I need that--" he's gonna have to reach over and get it. Waffles get messy.

Tristan: "I do not think it's hilarious to see her suffer," he chuckled, offering Jeremiah a clean napkin. "I just think it's funny when teeny little things make her jump."

Jeremiah: He took the napkin and shook his head. "I'll protect you, Meg!"

Tristan: “I couldn’t even watch those parody versions of scary movies. But I will give it exactly one try. And I reserve the right to go hide in my room.”

Jeremiah: "... We also have to have ice cream with us."

Tristan: “Oh there’s always ice cream in my house.”

Jeremiah: "We're gonna be best friends, Meg."

Tristan: "I rather think we are. Oh, almost forgot. My house pretty much doubles as a library at this point so you're free to borrow any and all of my books."

Jeremiah: "What kind of stuff do you read?"

Tristan: "Biographies, poetry, sci-fi, classics, plays, you name it."

"And, get ready for the ironic twist of the century," Tristan deadpanned around a bite of muffin. "She has a dedicated section of horror novels."

Jeremiah: Jeremiah laughed, "Aweeeesome! I'm super into philosophy and science and comic books! Do you read any comics? Oh! What's your favorite horror book and did you see the movie for it if it had one??"

Tristan: "Frankenstein, and yes, I've seen nearly all the adaptations of it. I've also read a number of graphic novels, but not really comics like the ones Tristan read when he was younger. I don't share the public's infatuation with superheroes."

Jeremiah: "Ooooooh shit. Oops, sorry!" Bad, Jer! Bad! "You don't?? You know I'm a superhero?"

Tristan: "You're fine," Meg chuckled, leaning back in her seat with her coffee now that she'd finished her souffle. She really was having a lovely time, and was so far pleased with her decision to bring up her spare room for rent.

There was always a chance it wouldn't work out, of course, but she doubted it wouldn't. Jeremiah seemed like a truly lovely man to know.

"Really, a superhero? What powers and qualifications do you possess?"

Jeremiah: "It's a secret... but I'm awesome." He wasn't exactly joking, but he wasn't exactly being direct, either... He had woken up to a strange man bestowing powers upon him. He didn't know what he was meant to do with them yet, but he's sure they held some greater purpose.

Tristan: “I thought superheroes were supposed to keep their identities a secret,” Tristan said with a grin. “He said I had to get to level 5 friend before he told me his powers.”

“Oh?” Meg smiled as well. “What level is he currently at?”

Jeremiah: "Hmmm... three. Not long left, but there's some room for improvement."

Tristan: “I’m already at three? That’s good progress. How did I get that high?”

Jeremiah: "You watched Star Wars with me and offered to help me find a place to live." Those are obviously on par.

Tristan: “That’s what any friend would do, regardless of clearance level.”

Jeremiah: "But you did it the first time you met me."

Tristan: “Call it small town hospitality.”

Jeremiah: "I've been in this town for fifty years and nobody else has done that!"

Tristan: Tristan laughed. “Fifty, huh?”

Jeremiah: He put on his best old man voice and trembled, "I'm old!"

Tristan: “Oh yeah, you’re ancient.”

Meg shook her head at them. “How long have you been here Jeremiah?”

Jeremiah: "I don't..." he laughed anxiously. "I don't remember."

Tristan: “Feels that way sometimes, doesn’t it?” She sighed wistfully. “Time feels like it moves slower here.”

Jeremiah: He rubbed his arm. Yeah. Let's go with that. He smiled sadly and finished off his food.

Tristan: Meg studied Jeremiah for a moment. She'd only known him for about an hour but already she could tell that wasn't his usual smile.

"Do you have family in the area?"

Jeremiah: "Uh... no." He twirled his fork anxiously.

Tristan: She gave him a sympathetic look. “That must be hard. But for what it’s worth, you’ve got us now.”

Jeremiah: He smiled, scratching his head. "Awww, don't make me cry in public!"

Tristan: She just laughed. “I mean it. Just call me mama.”

Jeremiah: Jeremiah gasped in excitement, "I've never had one of those before! I mean, y'know, apart from I obviously have some kind of mother. I'm not a test tube baby... that I know of. But, like, in the concept sense of a mother - growing up with one. In the grand scheme of things."

Tristan: Tristan was having real trouble not smiling. "He has two dads," he said, simplifying.

"Gotcha," Meg chuckled. "Well now you have a mama, too. My first act as your surrogate mama is to ask how your breakfast is. Good waffles?"

Jeremiah: "Delicious!" He grinned. "How's your orange thing I forgot the name of?!"

Tristan: "The souffle? Incredible. Josie--Laura's mama--really knows how to bake. Everything they sell is delicious."

Jeremiah: "Aww sweet! How's your muffin, Muffin Man?"

Tristan: Tristan just sighed contentedly in response. While the two of them had been talking Laura had brought him his second muffin and he was already halfway through it.

Jeremiah: With another laugh Jeremiah nodded. "I'm happy for you and your muffins."

Tristan: “So am I,” he said with a grin. “Want one?”

Jeremiah: "Ohhhh nooo I couldn't poooooss- yes, yes I do."

Tristan: “Laura! Can we get another muffin?”

“You haven’t even finished that one!”

“It’s for Jeremiah!”

“Oh, okay, I’ll bring it right over.”

Jeremiah: "Thaaaaaaaank yoooooooou!" He called out to her.

Tristan: "You're welcome, honey," she said, coming over with the muffin. "Anyone want more juice or coffee?"

"Coffee," said Tristan.

Jeremiah: "Uhh no thanks! I'm god - good. Not God. Yet. Wait is that blasphemy? I'M GOOD."

Tristan: "For what it's worth, I think we'd be better off if you were God," Laura said as she walked back to the counter. "Did you want any coffee, Meg?"

"I'm good, darlin'."

Jeremiah: Oh, that's an interesting compliment. He smiled at Tristan, as if silently asking how he felt about the whole God matter.

Tristan: Tristan found himself agreeing with Laura, although the only outward sign of that was a smile.

“Try the muffin, sunshine man. I promise your life will never be the same.”

Jeremiah: "YOU TRY THE MUFFIN." He was objecting for no reason other than to object. He'll reach out and break a little piece off to try anyway.

Tristan: He laughed. “What a contrary superhero we have. Whatcha think?”

Jeremiah: "Mmmmmmmmmmm OH! YOU KNOW WHAT THIS NEEDS?! WARM CUSTARD!!"

Tristan: "Laura makes really good custard," said Meg. "I think she only makes it in tart form though."

Jeremiah: "DIP THE MUFFIN INTO THE TART."

Tristan: Meg gave a sage nod. "Genius. Laura, honey, can you bring us a custard tart?"

"Coming right up!"

Tristan couldn't help but laugh again. "This has got to be the most unhealthy breakfast in the history of the universe."

Jeremiah: "YOU'RE WELCOME! Happy birthday!" He grinned and put his hands in the shape of a heart.

Tristan: "Thank you," he chuckled, finishing off his own muffin and his coffee as Laura brought Jeremiah his custard tart.

Jeremiah: "Thank you, Queen!" He pushed it closer to Tristan. "You try it first."

Tristan: "The tart or the dunking the muffin into the tart?"

Jeremiah: "Dunking. Dunk away, sir!"

Tristan: "All right." Tristan grabbed a piece of muffin and dunked--more like scooped really--into the tart. The grin that broke out across his face when he tried it was instantaneous and blinding. "Holy shit. That's so fucking good."

Jeremiah: Jeremiah laughed. "RIGHT?! Come with me and you'll see a world of pure imagination I guess?" It was his turn! Yum, yum.

Tristan: "Done. Got any other brilliant food ideas?"

Jeremiah: "Uhhhhh......................... OH! CANDY! ADD SUGARY CANDY TO IT!"

Tristan: Meg shook her head. "You two are going to have so many cavities."

Jeremiah: "WORTH IT! Try it, Meg?"

Tristan: "The dunking or whatever sugary candy concoction you're dreaming up?"

Jeremiah: "Dunking!"

Tristan: "I'll try a dunk." Which she reacted to in nearly the same way as her son.

"Next time I make muffins I'm making custard to go with them."

Jeremiah: "This is why you should always listen to random people you meet on their birthday after you've been attacked by the ocean."

Tristan: "That's a damn good quote for one of those inspirational posters."

Jeremiah: "You gonna make one?" He smiled, getting more custard and muffin into his face hole.

Tristan: "My artistic talents aren't good enough to make one."

Jeremiah: "I believe in yoooooooou - HOM." he stuffed his face.

Tristan: Tristan laughed and shook his head. “Thanks, sunshine man. Maybe I will one day.”

Jeremiah: He giggled with his mouth full. "Good! I'll be counting the days."

Tristan: "Just don't count too many." Maybe he could get someone else to make it, give it to Jeremiah as a surprise.

Jeremiah: "I can't count past twelve so you're okay."

Tristan: "Okay," Tristan chuckled. "I'll be right back."

He slipped away to the counter to pay before either of them could stop him.

Jeremiah: "Okay!" Jeremiah doesn't notice, he immediately starts having a chat with Meg about... nothing in particular.

Tristan: Meg noticed, but she said nothing. Just smiled and talked to Jeremiah until Tristan came back.

"Ya'll ready to go?" he asked. "Jeremiah's got a house to get acquainted with."

Jeremiah: "Yeah!" He grinned, standing. "I bet the hotel is gonna be SUPER glad to get rid of me."

Tristan: "You kidding? They'll be devastated."

Jeremiah: "No way. They're totally betting on how long I'll end up staying there for... maybe I should enter the bet and then take all of their money!"

Tristan: Tristan laughed. It...actually wouldn’t surprise him at all if the inn staff had a pool going. He knew for a fact they’d had them before.

“You’re too sweet to bet on. They know a good guest from a bad one, trust me.”

Jeremiah: "Sweet? You're full of compliments, Tristan. You're like a compliment machine- oh! They should SO have those! I bet everyone would want one!"

Tristan: "You know, they really should," said Meg. "Maybe you can invent the first one ever and make your fortune on making people smile."

Jeremiah: "THAT WOULD BE AWESOME! Gotta think of some good compliments though. Hmm.... oh! I can use inspiration from people around me..." he pointed at Tristan, "You're the type of person other people appreciate." then at Meg, "You're the type of person other people can rely on." he pointed at Laura, "You're the type of person who brings other people delicious food! Without you we'd be hungry!" he laughed, "I'm good at this!!"

Tristan: Tristan just smiled. "Yeah, he's going to make ten billion dollars without breaking a sweat."

"Ten? Don't be silly. Twenty, easily."

Jeremiah: "Twenty?? Who needs THAT much money. I'll give it all to Laura."

Tristan: "I knew you looked like an angel," came Laura's voice from somewhere in the kitchen.

Jeremiah: "Awwww. That's gotta be blasphemous."

Tristan: “God’ll forgive me. I make the communion wafers.”

Jeremiah: "So you're gonna turn his son into a wafer and you think that'll earn you points? Nu-uhhh."

Tristan: “Other way around,” Meg chuckled. “The wafer becomes his son. I think. I don’t know. Point is, you’re very sweet for giving Laura your imaginary twenty billion dollars.”

Jeremiah: "The secret catch is..." He whispered, "I want a lifetime supply of waffles."

Tristan: Meg laughed. “I say that’s a fair trade. Mine aren’t as good as Laura’s, but if you’re lucky I might make us some waffles for breakfast sometime.”

Jeremiah: "Ooooooh! Breakfast AND a bed all in one place - OH MY GAH - THAT'S WHERE 'BED AND BREAKFAST' COMES FROM!"

Tristan: She laughed again. “Exactly. Just with less cat themed decor. Oh! Speaking of, are you allergic to them? There’s a feral one that kinda lives in my yard.”

Jeremiah: "Uhhhhhhhhhh...." Is he allergic to cats...? "I don't... think so."

Tristan: “Okay, good. He doesn’t really get close enough to pet or anything but it’s best to be safe.”

Jeremiah: "What's his name?"

Tristan: “He doesn’t have one. I just call him Cat.”

Jeremiah: He frowned. "How could you be so meaaaaan?"

Tristan: “Names have significance. I don’t know him well enough to choose one that suits him.”

Jeremiah: "Maybe that's exactly why you should name him! Something like... 'Mysterious'... 'Secat' (instead of secret. Get it? Get it?)"

Tristan: Meg smiled. "Maybe 'Mysterious' is too on the nose. We should scour movies, TV shows, and literature for a name."

Jeremiah: "Hmmmmmm.... What colour is the cat?"

Tristan: “Orange and white.”

Jeremiah: ".... Garfield?"

Tristan: "Sold," said Tristan. "He'll be Garfield the feral cat."

Jeremiah: "Yaaaas! We should get him a cute little hat too! With bells!"

Tristan: Tristan chuckled. "He doesn't let people near him, remember? No hats."

Jeremiah: "That's because you didn't name him! It will all change now."

Tristan: "You hold on to that hope."

Jeremiah: "What do we have if not hope?!"

Tristan: Meg nodded. "A very good point. Shall we go meet Garfield and your new home?"

Jeremiah: Gasp! "YES! Please! Yay! Thank you!"

Tristan: "All rightie, let's go."

"We'll follow you," said Tristan, getting to his feet. "Come on, sunshine man."

Jeremiah: Jeremiah stood, waving to Laura.

"BYE QUEEN!"

Tristan: "Bye, angel!"

Tristan chuckled and shook his head. "Got better game than every straight man in this town."

Jeremiah: "Game? Huh?"

Tristan: "You've managed to charm three women in the short time I've known you." He held the door open for Jeremiah and his mother.

Jeremiah: Jeremiah gestured for Meg to go first.

"I have literally NO idea what you're talking about. Did Laura put drugs in your muffin, Mr. Sailor Moon?"

Tristan: "The muffins are the drug, sunshine man."

Jeremiah: "Ooooh. I'm banning you from muffins! No more! Ever again! Muahahaha!"

Tristan: "I regret to inform you that your ban is not enforceable. See you in a bit, ma!"

He waved to his mother and opened the passenger door for Jeremiah.

Jeremiah: "Thank you kind gentleman," he grinned, stepping up into Tristan's truck. The moment the other sat down he had a question coming his way. "You won't mind if I live with her, right?"

Tristan: Tristan shook his head. "Not at all. I think it's great, actually. You'll like living with her."

Jeremiah: "Do you visit her a lot?"

Tristan: "As much as I can. I try to have dinner with her at least once a week."

Jeremiah: "Huh. Guess I'll be seeing you once a week."

Tristan: "Guess you will. How you feel about that?"

Jeremiah: For some reason, that question had him fidgeting with the seatbelt he hadn't yet put in place.

"Uhh why don't you tell me what you think I feel and I'll tell you if you're right?"

Tristan: That caught Tristan off guard. He could suddenly hear Ronan's voice in his head.

"Well..." He pulled onto the road. "I like to think we're becoming friends, so hopefully the thought of seeing me on a regular basis doesn't disgust you."

Jeremiah: Jeremiah laughed. "You're just trying to wiggle your way to level five to get to know my powers. I've unveiled your evil master plan! You can't slip anything past Doctor Jeremiah Jordan!"

Tristan: "Sure," he chuckled. "That's exactly what it is." He paused for a beat. "Seriously, though. You okay with seeing me all the time?"

Jeremiah: Why this weird tension? This weird ENERGY? Jeremiah could cut it with a knife. A huge knife! Not a butter knife - it would need to be a butcher's to get through this air.

"Why wouldn't I be? Like you said we're... friends. It's nice to be around someone familiar. You're the most familiar I've got."

Tristan: Tristan's expression softened. "I'm flattered, sunshine man," he said softly.

Jeremiah: "Whaaaaaat about you? You okay with seeing my epic face all the time?"

Tristan: "Of course. Still gotta get to level five."

Jeremiah: "You've got a lot more movie marathons to sit through before you get there!"

Tristan: "Bring it on. Next time we need popcorn and slushies."

Jeremiah: "Oooooh yaaaas. I looove the way you think!"

Tristan: “We can turn the living room into a movie theater, like my mom did for me when I was little.”

Jeremiah: "That's so cute!!! We HAVE to!! When??? Tomorrow! Your birthday!"

Tristan: "Well since I'm apparently taking the day off, my birthday seems like the perfect time. We also need pizza."

Jeremiah: "Yaaas, Tristaaaaan! You read my mind!"

Tristan: He laughed and turned onto his mother's street. "Might as well lean into my birthday festivities, right?"

Jeremiah: "Damn straight!" He wiggled in his seat. "Your car is so comfy. I could totally take a nap in here."

Tristan: "Well thank you. I've taken it camping a few times, makes a great tent."

Jeremiah: "Ohhhh I bet camping here is awesome! Like, the stars and stuff!"

Tristan: "It is, accounts for a good bit of the tourism. Used to camp out in the woods behind my mom's house all the time when I was a kid. Found a frog once."

Jeremiah: "There's a WOOD behind her house?! Can we camp there?! We SO should! Are there frogs? I feel like there would be frogs for some reason. Am I right? Do I have froggy-senses?"

Tristan: "There's a little creek that runs back behind there so yeah, there are some frogs. And we definitely should go camping."

Jeremiah: "Yay! That's awesome! When? Tomorrow? Your birthday?"

Tristan: Tristan laughed. "Why don't we leave all the fun stuff for my birthday?"

Jeremiah: "But then it will all be over in one day!"

Tristan: "There's no limit on camping trips and movie nights, sunshine man."

He pulled up in front of his mother's eclectic, colorful house.

Jeremiah: "Ooooooh. You're saying you wanna spend muuuuuultiple days with me, I s- is this it???? I'M GONNA BE LIVING IN, LIKE, A DREAM HOUSE!"

Tristan: That got another laugh. Jeremiah would consider this a dream house, with its myriad plants and garden gnomes and sun catchers and windchimes. It was distinctly bohemian, a reflection of the woman herself.

"Wait until you see the inside. No two rooms are the same color."

Jeremiah: "WELL THEN!" he opened the door and eagerly went to jump out, but his seatbelt caught him flung him back. "Argh! I'm trapped!"

Tristan: "Jesus, come here." He fought a laughing fit as he freed Jeremiah from his seatbelt. Never in his life did he'd encounter this situation in real life. "There you go. And there's mama," he added, nodding over to her approaching car.

Jeremiah: "Yay, my hero!" He hopped out of the car and shut the door behind him. "This place is awesome!"

Tristan: "Thank you, sweetie!" Meg called. "I agree. It's a mess of styles but it's my mess of styles. Come on, I'll give you the grand tour."

As stated, the house was much of a cheerful mess on the inside as it was on the outside. Books dominated rooms painted in soft earth tones and all sorts of knick-knacks and photos sat on nearly every surface. It was utter chaos, yet somehow neat. The house was pristine and the various mess carefully and deliberately organized.

"Tristan says he thinks this is what the inside of my head looks like," Meg was saying as she showed Jeremiah around. "I'm inclined to agree."

Jeremiah: Jeremiah would be amazed and captivated by every single detail in every single room. It was the type of utter chaos he could get on board with. It was new, different, exciting! He felt right at home already. It was incredible. He was... so... lucky. He couldn't remember any other home, not really. He remembered bits and pieces, he remembered rooms, but couldn't put them together.

This house... it would be his first house. This would be the first of many, perhaps... but this is where it would begin. This is where he would start to create memories. Hopefully these memories would last.

"That's so cool! Can I make my room look like the inside of my head? What would that even look like? Really dark and probably kinda gooey?"

Tristan: "Absolutely, go crazy! Hang up posters, get plants, make a fort, whatever you want. Make yourself at home."

Jeremiah: "A FORT!" he grinned at Tristan and tugged his sleeve, "Tristan, a FORT!"

Tristan: Tristan ginned. "Do it, sunshine man. Make a fort around your bed."

Jeremiah: "I WILL! CHALLENGE ACCEPTED - it will be the mightiest fort of all time!"

Tristan: "In that case you should see what you're working with," said Meg, opening the door to a bedroom at the end of the hall on the second floor.

It boasted a big bay window, soft teal walls, and a queen-sized bed.

"This is it."

Jeremiah: "Oooooooooooooooooh! This is way too nice for me. We'll need to tone down the niceness by at least 40%."

Tristan: Meg laughed. "You kidding? This is the bare minimum. I've got some end tables in the attic that'll make great bedside tables. They don't match, but barely anything in this place does. One of them has a stained-glass top."

Jeremiah: "So fancy! I'll be sure to get a top hat so I can fit in."

Tristan: "Get outta here with your fancy, I got it at the flea market."

Jeremiah: Gasp! "You can afford FLEA MARKETS?!"

Tristan: "Oh yeah, we're living in the lap of luxury over here. More than half the furniture in this house came from flea markets."

Jeremiah: "Woooow. You never told me you were so fancy, Sailor Moon!"

Tristan: "Eh, I try to be modest. And get this, the furniture that isn't from the flea market is from garage sales."

Jeremiah: "Woahhh. I don't think I can stay here, sorry. Thanks for the offer but I'm just not comfortable living above my means."

Tristan: Meg laughed in utter delight. "Oh yeah, we're gonna get along just fine. You keep exploring. Tristan, come help me get the end tables."

Jeremiah: "Cool! Thanks!" Jeremiah would begin by sitting on his new bed.

Tristan: While they retrieved the furniture, Meg wasted no time in gushing to Tristan, utterly delighted with her decision.

"He's so sweet. He's gonna be a great roommate."

"Yes, he is."

"I'm glad you met him, you need more friends."

"Hey, I have friends."

"You need more friends who aren't Oliver and the cook at the Inn."

Jeremiah: If Ronan could hear the conversation he'd be offended. His name should definitely come before the Goddamn cook at the Inn! RUDE!

Jeremiah bounced a little on the bed before standing. He inspected the curtains with his fingers, felt the walls and drawers.

He was filled with sorrow that he couldn't share this with his fathers. He swallowed at the thought of moving forward with his life, this unfamiliar life.

Tristan: Tristan was also offended by this. "I have Ronan!"

"Ronan is married. You need single friends to do single man things with you."

He squinted at his mother. "You mean boyfriend."

"You said it, not me."

Tristan didn't get a chance to say anything else before Meg entered the room.

"We've got end tables!"

Jeremiah: At the sound of someone approaching Jeremiah quickly wiped his face. A smile followed a little sniffle.

"Cool! By the way, where should I leave my shoes? I still have them on but I know some people don't like other people wearing shoes in their house. Is it like a Leave-Them-By-The-Door kinda situation or a Take-Them-Off-Wherever, or?"

Tristan: "I don't mind either way. The floors are all hardwood so there's no worry about anything getting ruined."

Jeremiah: "Okay!" he stepped out of them and used his foot to push them aside neatly.

Tristan: Meg and Tristan each took an end table and arranged them beside the bed.

Meg looked at them thoughtfully. "You need lamps.  I might have some of those up there, too. Be right back."

"And a mirror," Tristan called after her.

"Oh, I'll grab the one you made!"

Jeremiah: "Thank you!" he grinned, bouncing a little, "You MADE a mirror?"

Tristan: "Not the actual mirror, just the frame. Used driftwood and sea glass."

Jeremiah: "That's so cool! Are you SURE you want me to have it in my room?! I'm suuuuper clumsy!"

Tristan: "It'll be on the wall," he chuckled. "It'll be fine."

Jeremiah: "That's a lot of responsibility!"

Tristan: "I'll still read it to you. I've actually never read it so we'll both get to enjoy it."

Jeremiah: "Awww CUTE! Okay! You've got yourself a deal, Mr. Sailor-Moon. I'll buy the books... I've never read them either, I just know they're long."

Tristan: “That means we’ll have plenty of reading material. I recommend getting them from my friend’s store. Gotta support local businesses.”

Jeremiah: "Mmm tooooooottally. Plus... friend discount, right?!"

Tristan: "Yep.  He calls it the childhood friend discount."

Jeremiah: "Sounds like we'll be spending a helllllllll of a lot of time together, huh?!"

Tristan: Tristan laughed. "Looks like. Gonna be able to handle seeing me that much?"

Jeremiah: "I could ask you the same thing, old man." he put his hand in a fist as if holding a microphone and moved it closer to Tristan, "Tell the audience, Mr. Sailor-Moon. How does it feel?!"

Tristan: "To be called Mr. Sailor Moon? Interesting to say the least. To be here with you? Great. To be helping you move? Also great."

Jeremiah: "Awww SO ROMANTIC!"

Tristan: He chuckled. "Yep, helping someone move is the absolute height of romance."

Jeremiah: "Daaaaaaaaaamn Tristan. ESPECIALLY moving in with his mom! You're just too good for me, I can't handle it!"

Tristan: Oh look, his face was starting to hurt from smiling again. “I’m a regular Mr. Darcy. I don’t know how I walk down the street with all the floating hearts and chirping birds I leave in my wake.”

Jeremiah: Jeremiah laughed but stopped just so he could jokingly gag.

"I'm more of a... Dorian Gray guy myself. Gotta have that bit of danger y'know? Corruption makes romance!"

Tristan: Danger was the last word on earth he would associate with Jeremiah, but he still smiled.

“Hopefully without the creepy secret painting.”

Jeremiah: "ESPECIALLY with the creepy painting. How dare you?!" Of course, he was being sarcastic.

Tristan: Tristan just grinned and shook his head. “We have interesting conversations, don’t we?”

Jeremiah: "Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm nah. Ya basic."

Tristan: “I’m wounded to my very core.”

Jeremiah: "To YA BASIC core?!"

Tristan: “To the very core of my core.”

Jeremiah: "That one-" he went to poke Tristan's core only to- "woahhhh, dude!" Poke, poke, poke! "You're, like, Iron-Man! What the hell?!"

Tristan: Tristan had to laugh. “It’s all the manual labor.”

Jeremiah: "Sharing is caring you know! Spread some muscle around!"

Tristan: “You want my to share my manual labor?”

Jeremiah: "Uhhh I really don't. Just the benefits. Thanks!"

Tristan: “Sadly it doesn’t work that way, sunshine man.”

Jeremiah: "Then be GONE from my presence. I have to jump out of your car now, your muscles offend me."

Tristan: “I’ll throw on a burlap sack when we get to my mom’s.”

Jeremiah: "That would be nice of you, thank you. Think about other people when you go around like that! UGH!"

Tristan: “You’re completely right, I should be ashamed of myself.”

Jeremiah: "Uh huh. Now eat some cake and think about what you've done."

Tristan: “I accept my punishment,” he said with a sage nod.

Jeremiah: "Good 'cause I'm gonna get you SO much cake for your birthday."

Tristan: "I am but one man, there's a limit to how much cake I can eat."

Jeremiah: "Hmmmmmmmmmm OKAY! How about this: I will get... three cakes. Just three. If you eat them all - you have the whole day, so you don't have to do it in one sitting - then... uhhh... you get one wish!"

Tristan: "Three cakes? You have a very high opinion of my metabolism."

Jeremiah: "So does your big buff... booty? I COULDN'T THINK OF ANOTHER WORD BEGINNING WITH B."

Tristan: Tristan told himself not to read too much into that particular choice of words. "How about body?" he chuckled. "A bit obvious, I know."

Jeremiah: "... OH, DUH! How did I miss that?! Anyway. Deal or no deal, sir?!"

Tristan: He just smiled as he pulled and backed into his mother's driveway. "Deal."

Jeremiah: "Ssssshhhhweeeet. Imma tell your mama about it and she'll referee!"

Tristan: “She’ll referee my cake eating?”

Jeremiah: "Yeah. Who knows if you might try to cheat!"

Tristan: “I never cheat. Especially when ice cream cake is involved.”

Jeremiah: "Can I trust a man who's been hiding an eightpack this whole time?"

Tristan: “How have I been hiding it? I don’t think wearing clothes counts.”

Jeremiah: "Uhhhhhh PRETTY SURE IT DOES."

Tristan: "I call foul. I'm innocent on all hiding charges!"

Jeremiah: "How DARE you!!"

Tristan: "Oh, I dare. I dare so hard." He grinned as he got out of the truck.

Jeremiah: Jeremiah gasped as he followed, pointing at the other. "You ADMIT it! I'm sorry, Tristan. I'm gonna have to arrest you now."

Tristan: He laughed. "You're gonna arrest me, huh? Can't eat cake if I'm arrested."

Jeremiah: "I didn't realize every cake business in the universe would shut down if you went to prison! You must eat a LOT of cake if you're the one guy keeping them all open."

Tristan: He nodded with great emotion as he grabbed the box from the truck bed. "It's a heavy burden to carry but I do my best."

Jeremiah: "Awww." He went to do the same, taking the suitcase and what contained his laptop, "Not all heroes wear capes, some wear... uh... scuba gear? What do sailor's wear?? Those little white h- OHHH Em GEE. Do you have a little white hat?! I bet you look like a little puppy in it! PLEASE tell me that's a thing. If it isn't I know what I'm getting you for your birthday."

Tristan: Tristan laughed his head off all the way to the front door. "The only place I've seen those hats besides a box of Cracker Jacks is on Navymen. I just wear work clothes. Boots, gloves, that kinda thing. The only time I wear scuba gear is when I'm diving for fun or diving beneath the ship to clean her up."

Jeremiah: "You mean you don't have a uniform?! Boooooooor-RING."

Tristan: "It's about utility, sunshine man. You know how many pairs of pants I go through?"

Jeremiah: He laughed, "No!? How many?!"

Tristan: "Six so far this year."

Jeremiah: "... What the heCK do you do?" he knocked on the door with his elbow.

Tristan: "They get torn, they get stained, they get wet, they get mysterious marine stuff on them, so many things. I put my work clothes through the wringer. Gloves, too."

Jeremiah: "Huh. I bet you keep the uh... clothes-washing... people... in business. Y'know the ones I mean. With the machines!"

Tristan: "Why yes, I do keep myself in business. I do great work."

Jeremiah: "You wash it all yourself?"

Tristan: "Who else is gonna do it? Ma, we're back!"

"Okay!"

Jeremiah: "Woooow, impressive! You must be a pro at getting out mysterious marine stuff by now! You should start your own show. I'd totally tune in every week."

Tristan: "Oh, I definitely am. Wanna know my secret?"

Jeremiah: Gasp! He leaned in closer. "Yes."

Tristan: Tristan leaned in conspiratorially. "Irish Spring."

Jeremiah: "Eh??"

Tristan: "Irish Spring soap. That stuff can get out anything."

Jeremiah: "I've never even HEARD of it."

Tristan: "Seriously? It's all over the place. I get out the stains with that and some hot water and then toss whatever it is in the washing machine."

Jeremiah: "You'd make SUCH a good househusband."

Tristan: "Good? I'd be the BEST househusband," he declared as he started up the stairs.

Jeremiah: "Wait wait WOAH WAIT-  what are your cooking skills like?"

Tristan: "Seafood wise? Excellent."

Jeremiah: "Hmm your husband will really have to get used to the smell of fish."

Tristan: "Well that's a given."

Jeremiah: "Maybe you should marry....... a merman!"

Tristan: He chuckled. "If there were any around these parts, I would've found them ages ago."

Jeremiah: "Take ALL the magic out of life, why don't you..."

Tristan: Another chuckle. "There might be one or two that managed to evade me. Hell, there might be a whole colony of them that's managed to live their lives without me ever so much as detecting their presence."

Jeremiah: "Let's hope that's true, Tristan!"

Tristan: “Let’s hope what’s true?” came Meg’s voice.

“Jeremiah thinks there are mermaids around here and that I should marry one.”

Jeremiah: "Yeah. Duh!"

Tristan: “I feel like my mermadic son-in-law would take issue with Tristan’s chosen profession.”

Jeremiah: "......................... Uhhhh... I didn't think about that!! Okay. Maybe some kind of pelican-man. Pelicans eat fish, right? I bet he'd appreciate it!"

Tristan: Tristan paused and turned to look at Jeremiah. "A pelican?"

Jeremiah: "... They're real right? Or was that just a thing for Finding Nemo?"

Tristan: "Oh my god, Jer. Yes, they're real. And real weird first choice for marine bird for me to marry."

Jeremiah: "... Is there a LESS weird option?!"

Tristan: "Ignoring the general weirdness of this conversation, there is a very obvious first choice, yeah."

Jeremiah: "... Like what? Owls don't eat fish, Tristan." DUH.

Tristan: "........Seagulls."

Jeremiah: Lips part and his back straightens. It's as if he has a response... but... "Fine. YOU WIN THIS ROUND. SPOKEN LIKE A TRUE... FISH-MAN. FISH- fisherman."

Tristan: Tristan just laughed and shook his head, continuing on to Jeremiah's room.

Jeremiah: Once in his new room he set everything down and collapsed back on the bed with a groan. "Arrrrrghhhhhhh so comfy!"

[laufie]

here’s a fun story about a creepy dude/stalker i had. it was a strange situation at the time, and i realize in hindsight i should have been much more scared, but it’s been over 10 years so i can just laugh about it now. it doesn’t describe anything traumatic or graphic, but it’s quite eerie.

anyway, i was about 15 or 16 years old at the time, and it had been just over a year since i moved to canada from ukraine. i still used vk (russian equivalent of facebook) frequently to chat with friends, and had an inside joke in my bio about taking LSD. i wasn’t actually taking anything, as i said it was an inside joke.

out of nowhere, this russian dude sends me a pm about how if im really taking LSD i should be able to name some specific formula or dosage or something. i explained to him that it was an inside joke and i know next to nothing about the drug itself, and he laughed it off. we started talking because i noticed it said on his profile that he currently lived in new york, which was a place i’ve always dreamt of visiting. we ended up talking every day about random things, mostly his love of new york and the array of recreational drugs he does.

he didn’t seem dangerous. he never talked about heavy drugs like heroin or meth, and was heavily against them. he was russian of course, as he was in new york only temporarily, so i felt a sense of connection to him, since i was still overcoming the cultural shock of moving to canada. to my mind at that age he didn’t seem like he had any bad motive. he didn’t ask especially prying questions, he was always nice and well-spoken, and enjoyed philosophical discussion. he gave off a vibe of a trustworthy person, which is a note of positivity that would have persisted throughout this whole story...

had he not been 7 years older than me. an important detail that slipped through the cracks at the time - he was 22 when i was 15. i knew he was more mature than me, but as far as i remember, i never actually got to find out his age back then. in hindsight of course, aside from the glaring age difference, he did give off red flags. calling me much more mature than other girls my age was perhaps the most glaring one. at the time. and of course, the constant glorification of drugs.

mind you, this was more than 10 years ago. the internet was a different place at the time. there was no tumblr or twitter or adults that grew up using the internet to tell me to be careful as a minor. people did whatever they wanted to and got away with it. so naturally, i didn’t catch any of the red flags, neither was i even on the lookout for them in the first place.

skip forward nearly a year, my mom knows a lot about this guy, since i’m quite open with her about, well, everything. my mom has always been my best friend. that summer we were planning a 3 month long trip home, to ukraine. him and i thought it would be cool to met up, since by now he was back home in russia. for reference, ukraine is to the far left side of russia, whereas this guy lived on the polar opposite side, on a piece of russian land that is right above japan. he would have to fly across the entire russia to see me. russia. you know, that massive thing? he was perfectly fine with it. i convinced my mom to let me meet him, and she said only if he stays at our place. naturally.

he came for only a couple days. our apartment back home is quite small so with my mom and constant family guests, there was always a pair of eyes on him. it got a little bit strange eventually. he was touchy, but not in an inappropriate way at all. i’m sure it’s not due to his personal decency, and rather because he would most definitely get caught. he would try to hold my hand, or brush my hair off my face, pat my head. things like that. it didn’t go beyond that. but to me, at the time, it was a grown adult man doing it to me, which gave me an unsettling anxious feeling.

on his last day he wanted to go out because he wanted me to try a drug that he had been talking about the entire time i’ve known him. i would prefer not to go into what it is, but it has a heavy hallucinogenic effect that lasts for a very, very long time. naturally he told my mom he just wanted me to show him around, and i was in on the lie. i was curious. my mom was always very strict with coming back home right on time, so we promised her we will be home by 10 pm.

we went out at around 5. and it lasted longer than he promised. way longer. we came home at 3 am. despite the hallucinations being quite heavy and mind-boggling, the effect of the drug didn’t make me feel “out of it”. my perception of time and space was obviously very skewed, but i knew who i was and where i was, and what was happening around me. he didn’t try anything. there wasn’t even as much as an attempt. except, well, when i realized what time it was i rushed home so fast that i was not going to stop for anything. so i’m not sure. maybe the night wasn’t over in his mind yet, but it was in mine. i felt bad for my poor mother who had been worried sick since 10 pm. it was pitch black outside so i went home through a well-lit road that has a lot of cars. now that i think about it, i may have unintentionally saved myself from things getting worse.

i only stopped when we were outside my apartment, because i wanted to focus as much as i could before going in. he sat down on the bench and beckoned me to sit next to him. and he kissed me. i dont remember how exactly it happened but it just kind of did. i went along with it and didn’t say anything after, i went inside the apartment building like nothing happened. it was odd. i didn’t know what it meant, but i also didn’t care, because i wanted to see my mom as soon as i could, ad it was the only thing on my mind.

one look in my eyes and she knew everything. she told me to go to bed. i don’t know what she told him. i’m not sure she said anything. the next morning she asked me if anything happened. i assured her that i was safe. and then he was gone. she didn’t say anything to him. she just dropped him off to make sure he actually left.

after that we didn’t really talk nearly as much. we tried to keep in contact but honestly, i wasn’t as drawn to him anymore. eventually, out of nowhere, he posted some really mean and rude comments under a bunch of my pictures, and i ended up deleting him.

now for the creepiest part. nearly 4 years later we plan another trip to ukraine to visit family. i have some medical conditions with my spine that i needed to get very uncomfortable and painful massages for. my health is one of the main reasons why we took trips back home often. one day about a week or so into my trip i was leaving my apartment to get into a taxi to go to one of those massage appointments. i exit the building and there he was. sitting on the bench and just looking at me. 4 years later. not a word. across russia.

even though it was bright afternoon and a lot of people were out, i was overcome with dread. i awkwardly told him “sorry, i have to go somewhere” and rushed to get into the taxi. he didn’t say anything, just kept looking. on my way back from the massage i called one of my close old friends that worked in the UKR special forces. my mom wasn’t home and i did not feel safe returning. he picked me up and drove me home, and came in with me, all the way into the apartment, the guy wasn’t there anymore. i made my friend coffee and told him about this guy. he promised to drive by once in a while to make sure he isnt hanging out here at odd hours.

later that day at around 8 pm i got a text from an unknown number. “so, are you scared of me now?”.

i closed all my blinds and curtains, locked both entrance doors, and told my female friends not to come visit me, because he knew their faces. yes, i was scared. i was really scared. he didnt say a word to me in 4 years, somehow found out about my trip and just showed up. i wasn’t sure if i wanted to cry or scream. i knew i had to get rid of him somehow. so i responded, making up a story about being really sick and needing constant treatment, and that i made plans with all my friends to leave tonight to go to another city for 3 weeks.

he was angry with me and very upset. he expected a happy reunion i guess. i was very polite to him and apologized, saying i felt bad he traveled all this way only to be told this. he started writing really cryptic things. “i know a secret how to cure any illness of yours, you don’t need doctors, it’s like a code, you plug it in and you become anything”. “i came here to cure you because you’re the only person it will work on”. “i went to your page to ask your friends if your plans are true, but you have them hidden. why don’t you trust me anymore?”

among this he called me. over and over. between every message, a missed call i refused to pick up. eventually i broke down and asked him why is he acting like this. to which he said “because you are the only woman in the world i will ever be able to love this much”. i told him i was with someone and have been for 2 years, and to leave me alone. after a handful more cryptic messages, he stopped for a while. and ended it in a plea to forgive him. i didn’t respond to anything beyond the confession.

thankfully i had no contact with him since then, and as far as i know there have been no attempts from him. however, i don’t use russian social media anymore, and none of them are linked to any of my active “american” accounts, so to speak. so there is no way for him to find me. if you ever wondered why i never make my real name public and always go under aliases, this is largely why.

[closetspngirl]

Love Heals the Soul (Part 31) - Birthday Cake

Summary: Jensen’s Birthday...amongst other things

Masterlist

Pairing: Jensen x reader

Word Count: 1760

Warnings: All the fluff, implied smut, and then a little minor swearing, and some angsty bits sprinkled in, talk of an accident

A/N:  Couldn’t help myself with this chapter gif. lol Feedback is always welcome! Italicized are lyrics, POV thoughts or text conversations; you can tell by the context

You had taken Jensen’s suggestion of going to see a therapist with the hopes that it might curb the nightmares, having been going once or twice a week for the last couple of months. It was helping, you hadn’t had any of the really bad ones for a while, leaving you with the minor ones to deal with.

You couldn’t get in to see the doctor for your hand until the middle of March, having already called twice to try and move up your appointment. You were still scared as hell at the thought of dealing with it; managing to put all of that aside though when it came to Jensen’s birthday.

There was no way you could make him a cake or anything at the apartment and keep it a secret for his birthday. You were still spending a couple of days a week at the café, making sure things were running ok, orders were getting placed and inventory was getting done. You weren’t the owner, and technically didn’t have to do all of that, but you liked helping out, feeling like you had a purpose. Because if you were being honest with yourself, you were feeling like you didn’t know how much longer you’d be able to help.

It was a smaller cake, nothing crazy, able to feed a few dozen people. You had talked to Bob one of the days that you had visited the set, asking if they were going to be ordering in cakes for the cast and crew. He told you they were, so you the two of you decided to hold off for a couple days and surprise him.

At the café the next day you were trying to decide what flavor to do for him. He is a fan of chocolate, that’s always a classic, why not? After a few minutes deciding on chocolate cake with a dark chocolate mousse filling covered in chocolate ganache. I mean if we’re going to do chocolate, might as well go all out right? Make the last one special?

A couple days later, the day before you were to take it to set, you had decorated it with chocolate garnishes and writing. It really was one of your favorite cakes that you had done, despite how your arms were feeling. Anything for him. You couldn’t wait to get on set and give this to him, especially with what you had planned out.

Jensen’s POV

My birthday was three days ago, and nothing had happened, save for a few well wishes from a couple people. Not that I ever asked for any of the crew to do anything, but they always do something special for birthdays, so it was a little weird when nothing came up. Especially after doing this for thirteen years. I put it to the back of my mind since Misha, Jared and I were getting ready to film another scene in the bunker.

We took our marks, starting in the kitchen, and set up for the scene. Bob had given us some loose instruction on being able to adlib a few lines, just to see where it went. He knew how the three of us worked, and knew that we would get the take we wanted; even if it took a couple tries.

Dean: Any idea on what we’re dealing with? grabs beer from fridge

Sam: Not a clue. I’m sure the archives would have something. shrugs There could even be something in the library?

Dean: Don’t you have the library catalogue memorized by now?

Sam: classic Sam bitch face look to Dean

Cas: He’s not wrong, Dean. It’s worth a shot. Then if we can’t find anything, we can go down to the archives.

Dean: sighs Fine.

Walks to library

Dean: Where do…what the hell? Realizes adlib Why is it pitch black in here?

Sam: …Maybe we forgot to pay the electric bill?

Cas: You don’t pay for electricity…

Sam: clasps hand on Cas’s shoulder Never mind buddy.

Dean: Are there even light switches in this room? I’ve honestly never noticed…

Suddenly the lights turn on and Y/N is sitting on the table, legs crossed with a cake sitting next to her.

“Happy Birthday, Jensen!”

I couldn’t even begin to tell anyone how happy I was at the surprise, I was just happy to have her in my arms, walking quickly to her and sweeping her up in a hug. “Wow! How did you manage this?” She just laughed. God that laugh, I’ll never get enough of it.

“Bob helped me out with this one. Hope you don’t mind it’s a couple days late.”

I pulled her into another hug, “Not at all. Thank you so much baby. This is great, I love it.”

Bob had since called cut, while other crew-members were bringing out a table with a couple other sheet cakes on it along with some plates and forks.

After a round of Happy Birthday was sung, I blew out the candles on the cake they had brought out for everyone. I couldn’t wait though to cut into the cake that Y/N had made, I loved everything that she baked. Everyone on set, which was a lot of people, got a piece of either cake, and everyone who had a bite of Y/N’s cake was commenting on how amazing it was, saying that they’d have to call her for when they needed one. She thanked everyone who talked to her, but I could tell something was bothering her, but I didn’t bring it up; it could wait until later. I wanted the both of us to enjoy this time.

Bob was nice enough to give us all an hour or so to eat cake and talk. When it was time to go, I pulled Y/N aside in one of the coves of bookshelves to say bye to her.

“Thanks again for this. That was really sweet of you, in every sense of the word.” I couldn’t help to laugh at the pun I let slip.

“Anytime baby,” she said with a smile.

“I’m not sure what time I’ll be home tonight, but I’m out early tomorrow, so we can go out for that birthday dinner I’ve kept postponing,” I told her, giving her a kiss on her forehead. “Perfect, I’ll make a reservation when I get home later.”

I took her hands in mine, running my thumbs over her wrists unsure of how my next question would go over, but I had to ask to quiet the voice in my head. “I hope that cake wasn’t too much trouble for you, you know you didn’t have to do all that for me. You surprising me would have been more than enough.” I knew she got the meaning under what I was asking, I also noticed she hesitated before answering me.

She looked up and smiled, “No trouble at all.” I’ll have to bookmark that topic for a later date as well. Her demeanor seemed to change in the next second, as if trying to forget the last ten seconds of the conversation.

“See you later birthday boy, you’ve got one more surprise waiting at home,” she told me as she walked away with a wink.

Well how the hell am I supposed to finish shooting today with that going through my head?

---

Despite the fact that we finished late last night, I had to be on set by seven this morning. I always hated days like these, especially since Y/N wasn’t at the café as much anymore to make my morning coffee. Because of that, I made it a point to have a few minutes with her before leaving, even on the early mornings when she despised waking up before the crack of dawn with me. It gave us a chance to talk though and just be together, as if living and sleeping together wasn’t enough, it’s still something we both enjoyed.

I ran my finger up and down her nose, waking her gently. For some reason I loved waking her like this, I had no idea why, maybe it was because it was cute to watch her come to and flutter those beautiful eyes open at me. This morning though she whined at me, knowing it was too early for any sane human to be awake. “Why,” she asked, drawing out the word like a five year old. “Are you whining Y/L/N?”I asked her, using her own line on her. Even that glare is freaking adorable.

I knew she wasn’t seriously upset with me; she enjoyed this just as much as I did. After stretching and sitting up with me, we talked about what we had planned for our days. Mine was mostly what scenes we were going to be shooting, while she had mentioned that she needed to run a few errands and do a couple chores.

“Well I’ll be done around three, home by four, then it’s our night. Dinner…drinks…maybe another present to unwrap…” That got her giggling. “We’ll see Ackles, as long as you’re good,” she teased. “Oh you know I’m good.” Two can play that game.

---

Briana and Kim were back on set today, we only had a few scenes to shoot, a couple things down by the boat yard. We were in the middle of a scene, all of us coming back from the Bad Place, when Bob yelled cut.

“Uh, is everything ok? I thought that was a good take, do we need-“

“Jensen, come here please.” Well shit. I heard Briana answering her phone and a commotion going on behind me as I walked over to Bob.

“Jense, we just got a call because they couldn’t reach you, Y/N-“ Briana was over, cutting of Bob, barely getting out the words that she had to go, looking frantically at me.

“Guys, what the hell is going on?” I demanded.

“Jensen, Y/N is in the hospital, she was in a car accident…” Briana told me.

I felt a hand on my shoulder, not needing to see who it was to know it was Jared, or to know exactly what he was trying to do; help me stay grounded and in the present and not lose myself.

“I need to go. Dammit...Bob, I’m sorry, I need to go. Can you finish without Bri and I? I’ll text and keep you guys updated,” already jogging away before waiting for an answer.

“Go, we’ll figure it out,” he told me.

Bless that man. Some days I wondered why he was so good to me.

Tags: @maralisa124 @somilotopia @delightfullykrispypeach @steffiemeheus @lizwinchester16 @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester @mystrie @supernatural-lover-teamfreewill @cats-are-untrustworthy @superromijn @gifsforgomez @sherlock44 @life-through-the-lenss @1233088 @fandomloveyeah @allonsy-yesiwill @amomentintime @headingforthe-target-of-insanity @justforsavingfics @ocean-waves-that-misbehave @justfloatingthroughtime @hobby27 @musiclovinchic93  @im-super-un-natural  @miserys-company23  @stellaa33  @greyeyedsmile14  @deanlovespiebabyandmeloljkiwish  @winchester-top-the1975  @siriuslyimmortal  @zahiaouzidane @hopefulcolorcollectorsthings @perpetualabsurdity @justanotheraccount12345678910 @effulgenttales @imaginationisgrowth

[ravennest1342-blog]

Bts Hybrid AU

Bunny Breath Chapter 1

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Kim Namjoon’s day started out normally enough. The twenty-five year old woke in his room with one of his five hybrids wrapped so tightly around him he could barely breath.

Said hybrids name was Yoongi, and he was a mink hybrid. Namjoon squirmed a bit helplessly as he struggled to reach his blaring alarm clock with the numbers 5:30 proudly displayed on it. Yoongi snarled ever so lightly in his sleep as Namjoon squirmed away, his arms tightening around Namjoon as the man finally turned off the dreadful little clock with a slight wheeze from the increased pressure. He blinked sleepily, his breathing harsh as he looked down at his chest to see the mink hybrid he so adored.

Yoongi was tiny, he had a thin, wiry frame that had alarming amounts of strength hidden in the lean muscles. His face was dainty; almost doll like with pouty pink lips and a button nose paired with cat like eyes. Fluffy dark brown — almost black — hair stuck out from his head in a messy way with two tiny dark brown mink ears sticking from them. Namjoon smiled. Anyone looking at Yoongi would think he looked delicate and breakable, his slight build implying that he wasn’t very powerful, especially when compared to Namjoon’s other hybrids Jin or Jimin with their thicker builds. But Namjoon new the whiplike strength, and lightning reflexes his hybrid possessed, he knew that behind those pouty lips, was razor sharp canines — almost fangs — designed to rip and tear into flesh. He knew that the minks dark brown tail with thick fur was there to help the hybrid balance better, move faster.

“Yoongi.” Namjoon breathed softly. “I have to . . . get ready for work.” He wheezed out the last part in a high pitched noise as Yoongi’s grip tightened to the point of pain, nails digging into Namjoon’s hip and chest.

“No.” The hybrid snarled, voice thick with sleep. “You’re staying home with us today.” He growled, lashes fluttering open to reveal dark onyx black eyes. God, Yoongi is so beautiful. Namjoon thought with a sigh.

“I have to Yoongi, there’s an important meeting this morning discussing our new phone prototype and at lunch I have to meet up with Jaebum to discuss the auction he’s scouting out tonight.” He sighed. Yoongi pouted, aggression seemingly disappearing. Namjoon gave him a suspicious look as he withdrew his grip. Yoongi tried to keep him home every morning like this, he set his alarm an hour earlier than needed because of the mink.

“Fine. But you brought this on yourself.” The mink smirked playfully, his tail wrapping neatly around himself as he moved to sit Indian style and drew in a deep breath. Too late Namjoon realized what was happening he surged forward with a yelp but Yoongi had already opened his mouth and screamed.

“NO NAMJOON!! YOU CANT GET A SNAKE HYBRID!!” His voice was modeled with the perfect mixture of horror and terror at the thought of a snake hybrid and as they heard several faint yelps from down the hall, an evil smirk ripples across Yoongi’s face, the sound of running feet reaching their ears and then the bedroom door was practically ripped open.

The two hybrids that raced in were in near hysterics, full on sobbing as they rushed at a stunned Namjoon, slamming into him and knocking the man flat on his back, one hybrid had soft golden brown/russet hair and long deer ears, his body was thin and graceful with a fluffy deer tail that was white on the underside. The other hybrid had floppy golden/brown dog ears with a long tail with equally long fur, he was more gangly, but his face had almost perfect proportions. Both hybrids clambered onto Namjoon, openly wailing as they pressed against him.

“Joonie! No no nonononono!” Hoseok, the deer hybrid cried harshly, sniffling dramatically as he nuzzled into Namjoon’s side while Taehyung, a dog hybrid, straddled his hips, frantically pushing himself against Namjoon’s chest, he too was a sobbing mess.

“I won’t mi-misbehave ever again J-Joonie! Swear! I’ll even apol *hic* ogize for l-locking Jimin outside f-for four ho-hours and . . . laughing at him!” He cried. Namjoon sighed, glaring at a grinning Yoongi, who’s eyes were sparkling with unbridled humor and joy at the situation before him. This was going to be a long morning.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Namjoon was an hour and a half late for work. He really didn’t understand why Taehyung and Hoseok were so strongly against snake hybrids and figured he’d have to ask them at some point, but he barely made it to his meeting on time and all thoughts of his hybrids and worries that they might be slightly racist towards other hybrids were driven from his mind as he tackled the obstacles of his day.

He was obscenely grateful for the fact that everyone at his job respected him. If they didn’t Namjoon was well aware that his job would be a million times harder than it was. Technically, he didn’t even have to show up everyday, his company was so well oiled and staffed he should only have to drop in once a month. But he liked to make a point of going everyday, knowing all his workers names, everyone, even the intern that sorted mail in the mail room. His name was Junhwan (if this is the name of an idol, I didn’t mean to) and he was actually a brilliant artistic kid that Namjoon was thinking about putting in software design once he’d been in the company for a couple more weeks.

As it was, he still had a lot of stuff to do, departments to check up on, problems to sort out. So Namjoon was thrilled when lunch arrived and he got to go meet up with his good friend Im Jaebum. A hybrid doctor, one that was insanely good at his job. Namjoon had known him for a while, having met the other man when he was still an intern and had brought Yoongi who was . . . sick at the time.

He groaned as he made his way to the small cafe on the edge of Seoul. It was a tiny place, but it had the best sandwiches in the world. He arrived a few minutes late, so it wasn’t a surprise that Jaebum was already there and waiting. Namjoon smiled as he made his way over.

“How’s Jackson?” He demanded. His usual greeting. Jackson was a wolf hybrid that Jaebum had rescued from an abusive owner, Namjoon really liked the playful hybrid and he was good friends with Yoongi.

“Still shook by everything Mark does. I thought a wolf and a dove would be ok around each other but Jackson always looks so shocked at everything Mark does.” Jaebum smiled slightly, thinking of the playful turtleneck dove hybrid with a grin. Namjoon went to reach for the menu as he sat, when Jaebum waved him off.

“I already ordered for you. The usual, with a large watermelon juice.” Jaebum grinned widely at the surprised look on Namjoon’s face. The two talked for a few more minutes, both dancing around the real reason they were meeting up for as they waited for their food. Namjoon was just beginning to portray his confusion and worry about how much his hybrids hated snake hybrids when there food came.

Both men graciously thanked the waiter while Jaebum grinned a bit at Namjoon.

“It’s Hoseok and Taehyung that get really worried about it right?” He demanded. Namjoon nodded emphatically. “It’s because snake hybrids are oviparous.” He grinned at Namjoon’s confused look, before waving a hand and leaning back. “Look it up later. Right now, we have a problem.” He sighed.

“What? Did Chen switch auction sights? What’s wrong?” Namjoon demanded, straightening up. Jaebum shook his head, eyes downcast as he tapped his cup.

“No. Chen is auctioning off two hybrids this time. Not one. And again, it’s going to be after all the normal guests have left and only the . . . questionable ones remain.” Namjoon cursed. Normally, this wouldn’t be a problem. Jaebum could easily afford two hybrids, he could probably buy up to twenty of them. The problem was, at these types of auctions you were only allowed one. And Namjoon couldn’t call anyone last minute like this, everyone would be booked. Which left him. He could see on Jaebum’s face that the other man fully expected him to come. Namjoon winced slightly.

“I promised Yoongi I would have a thorough talk with everyone before I rescued another hybrid.” He mumbled. Jaebum laughed, leaning back.

“And that very same day he called Jackson and called you the cutest dork in the history of dorks and said and I quote ‘Namjoon is lead by his heart. I can’t wait until I see who he brings home this time. But the sentiment was nice.’” Namjoon blinked owlishly, he supposed he should be offended by his boyfriends complete lack of faith in him, but wasn’t he proving him right? Here he was, about to go and get another hybrid from the brink of a truly horrible fate.

“Wow.” He snorted, Jaebum leaned forward expectantly and Namjoon grumbled, rolling his eyes as he pulled out his phone. “At least let me call him, Jesus, I should at least pretend that I feel guilty.” He grumbled. Jaebum smiled. The phone was barely ringing for ten seconds before a happy voice chirped out.

“Joonie! Joonie are you coming home? When? Can I have some strawberries?” It was Hoseok. Namjoon blinked before snorting.

“Um, no I’m not coming home just yet Hobi.” A faint whine of protest. “And ask Jin about the strawberries. Also, may I talk to Yoongi please?” He smiled. Jaebum grinned across the table. There was a small huff of disappointment and some shuffling before Yoongi’s soft yet deep voice filtered through the phone.

“You’re going with Jaebum to the auction aren’t you?” Then before Namjoon could even draw in a breath to answer the mink hybrid continued in his perpetually bored voice that he always used over the phone. “Are we going to have another housemate by tonight? Do I need to arrange for Taehyung to stay over at Minho’s for a sleepover? You remember how much he scared Jimin right?” Namjoon blinked once again, carefully filing each question and processing them before answering.

“Hmm, yes I am going to the auction and maybe about the new house member, no to Taehyung though, I think he’s resolved his impulse issues a bit.” Hearing Yoongi’s quiet snort of derision he sighed. “Give Tae the benefit of the doubt, Yoons.”

“Namjoon I love him to the moon and back and literally every time I see him I just want to kiss his little face until he’s very red, but he has no impulse control whatsoever.” Hearing Namjoon’s silence Yoongi groaned. “Fine! But if he traumatizes the poor hybrid I’m blaming you.” Namjoon laughed softly at him, Tae alwaysmeant well, the dog hybrid could just come off a bit strong.

“You do that. I love you Yoongi, tell the others I love them with all of my heart yeah?” A lot of stammering ensued and Namjoon grinned, knowing fully that he had probably just seriously flustered Yoongi (casually saying I love you over the phone always seemed toget to the mink hybrid) and he barely made out the mumbled reply of “Wh-whatever dork.” Before Yoongi hung up. Namjoon sat the phone down with another fond smile and began casually sipping on his tea lost in thought about the new hybrid and puzzling over what type of stuff he’d need for him/her when Jaebum spoke.

“So your coming?” He demanded. Namjoon nodded. “Great, I’ll pick you up at six p.m. sharp so don’t be late, dress casual but in obviously expensive clothes. You know the drill.”

Indeed Namjoon did.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

— 7:00 PM —

The auction began like any other auction fe rich people looking for a cute hybrid. Namjoon and Jaebum, both dressed in plain yet elegant suits were lead to their specific table in a wide well furnished room with a lovely stage that sellers would bring the hybrids out on to auction. No alcohol was given out, as that was highly illegal. Namjoon knee it would be served once the main guests were gone and the front of the auction was over allowing nastier people to come out and sell. Only a select few would be allowed to stay for that and Namjoon and Jaebum were of those few.

The first Hybrid was a a child. She looked around five or six, which meant she was three in human years, and she was a canary hybrid. Her master forced her to sing in a beautiful high pitched tinkling voice that would only get better with age. She sold for four million won.

After her came a bear, then a cow, then a lizard. All of them began to blend together and it wasn’t until he was signing his papersthat said he would remain anonymous that Namjoon knew the true event was starting. He sighed the paper without fear. Knowing full and well that Jaebum’s friend who went by Woozi, had hacked in and changed two or three words in the packet so that he could safely audio record.

He waited. Chen was one of the more known Hybrid Slave traffickers, he would be showing his hybrids close to last if not last. Namjoon just had to survive this and then he’d be able to bury these bastards. He took a deep breath and forced himself to watch as a small male badger hybrid was dragged in chains onstage with a heavy collar and forced to neel. He blocked out what the salesman was saying, instead focusing on those pitiful brown eyes and the watery nose. Forcing himself to commit the hybrid to memory. The one that he wouldn’t be saving tonight. The police would hopefully find him by tomorrow evening after Jaebum and Namjoon turned in their work. But it still hurt, watching the badger let loose a choked cry as he was bought by a hybrid breeder. Submissive males were always swooped up like that.

He forced himself to watch and remember each hybrid, each face. Each perfectly innocent person, not quite human not quite animal forever abused. He was infinitely relieved when it was announced.

“Next up is Chen with a submissive Arctic fox hybrid.” The announcer bragged. A tiny fox with large doe eyes was dragged up on stage by the man Namjoon so loathed and he barely heard Jaebum whisper, “I got him.” beside him through the raging in his ears and cottony taste in his mouth. Unlike the other hybrids the fox looked not scared, but tired. Defeated almost. As if he didn’t have any hope or joy left in his life.

He slumped quietly, ears twitching and flicking back and forth, his hair was a soft brown and thin, as was his tail. Namjoon knew that come winter the arctic foxes hair and fur would be a lot thicker and shimmering white. He could feel Jaebum continuously raising his sign signifying that he was a competitor. It upped the agression for the hybrid and made more people bet, which in turn, drove up the numbers. But eventually Jaebum was the only one left betting with another man.

He got the fox hybrid for ten million won. Namjoon’s eye twitched at the way the fox closed his eyes and shuddered slightly before dipping his head as Jaebum made his way back to where he would be filling out official documents and inserting an ownership identification chip into the hybrid. Namjoon wouldn’t do the chip part until he got the hybrids explicit consent. Consider it a pet pieve but if the hybrid he was about to get wanted to leave Namjoon would let him. He would only own a hybrid that gave him consent to being owned.

Chen himself took the microphone from the announcer this time.

“This next Hybrid is my work of art people. His parents were a dominant male black mamba hybrid and a submissive Red Rex female bunny hybrid.” Namjoon blinked in confusion. “As you all are probably well aware, breeding to hybrids with different sub base animals results in a hybrid that looks strange when compared to other hybrids of his kind, whether it be mismatched eyes or strange animal features. Please bring out Jeongguk, submissive male bunny hybrid mix breed!” Chen yelled gleefully. The room stirred, while Namjoon’s guy tightened with worry.

Bunny hybrids were pretty common in themselves, they and cat hybrids were the most common hybrids around. Almost all bunny hybrids had small box like body structures with ridiculously fluffy hair and normally black ears that stuck up proudly from their heads and twitched around depending on thei moods.

The hybrid that was dragged up on stage looked close to hyperventilating. He was dressed in form fitting shorts and a white tank top that revealed a thin slightly gangly structure that actually reminded Namjoon of Taehyung quite a bit. The hybrid seemed to possess all the good features of bunnies and none of the bad. With a slightly large nose and large front teeth, delicate cheekbones which hinted at his fathers blood and wife innocent doe eyes that were shelling with unshared tears. His hair was a dark brown with streaks of light brown and black in it giving him a mottled look. But what really grabbed the audiences attention was his ears. They were long, and unlike literally almost every other bunny hybrid, floppy, a soft golden/brown. But while everyone gasped overhow beautiful the hybrid was, Namjoon just saw the frightened gaze, the way his hands twitched in his chains and his red tear streaked cheeks that would probably be more on the babyish/chubby side once he wasn’t skin and bones. He noticed that the ends of the hybrids ears had a antibiotic cream rubbed into viscous looking sores as if the hybrid was constantly chewing or sucking on his ears.

Namjoon began the bidding. He refused to let anyone else have this little hybrid. It was like looking into Hoseok’s eyes when he was first rescued all over again, a mix of fear, pain and confusion. He was adamant. He quickly nicked over half the people out of the running and continued on ruthlessly, well aware that the money wasn’t anywhere near too expensive for him yet, and it wouldn’t be until he reached the high billions.

“Fifty -five million won!” The anouncer yelled as Namjoon raised his sign. He glanced around, seeing the disappointed looks around him and knew he’d won. “Going once! Twice! SOLD to number forty-seven please go to the back to fill out you right to ownership papers please sir! Have fun with your buy.”

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

So what did you think for a beginning chapter? It’s fun right? I figured Jungkook joining them would be a great place to start! Love you!

Feel free to ask any questions or point out any mistakes I’ve made! I tend to not proof read enough so constructive criticism is helpful!

Part Two to Bunny Breath is HERE

If you want to see the rest of my AU’s then please make your way to my Masterlist HERE

[killingmebtob]

[[☾]] Unlucky Day // Im Hyunsik

Author: @killingmebtob // Chi

Title: Unlucky Day

Characters: Hyunsik and Reader

Summary: She was having the unluckiest day ever. Can Hyunsik make it better?

Warnings: NC-17, Smut, Teasing, Fingering, Unprotected sex

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Your name: submit What is this?

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NOTHING’S GOING RIGHT!

MY WHOLE LIFE’S A BIG, FAT JOKE!

I chanted in my head as I walked the slippery street on my way home. The soft rain drops are falling on my head and the squeaking sound of my shoes when I walk is making me uncomfortable. Ok, scratch that. What’s making me uncomfortable is the fact that I smell like shit. No, this is not a metaphor. I do smell like shit.

I am unluckiness personified!

Maybe I did something wrong in my past life because of all the bad karma that are pouring into my life.

My feet are aching because of the long walk and I don’t think any cab will let me in because of my current condition. If I am the cab driver, I won’t let me in!

Not that there are any vehicles in the area though. Thanks to that transport strike!

I should’ve known that this day would turn bad when the bathroom mirror cracked while I was preparing for work this morning. I think that was a sign and I ignored it. I also ignored the superstition saying that I should not go under a ladder. Well, there was nowhere else to go to so I had no choice. Also, that black cat! I thought that the black cat I saw down the road was cute but maybe I should’ve remembered the old saying where you will get bad luck if you see one.

I should’ve believed in the superstitions!

If I did, maybe I would’ve known that I will be sacked from work today. I have worked for that company for five whole years. I’ve dedicated my whole life to it and sacrificed my social life for it. I worked twelve hours a day, even on weekends, just to make sure that I meet my deadlines. I always volunteer to help my colleagues, even to the point that I do their job just to get their favor. And what did I get? I got terminated from my job for the simple reason that my position is redundant. I mean, if it is redundant, they shouldn’t have hired for it in the first place!

I thought my bad luck would stop there but of course not!

On my way home, while crying, the bus I am on had mechanical problems and everyone inside had to walk. You can’t even hail a cab because there aren’t any in the area. While walking and crying, the sky suddenly decided that it needed to rain. Get this, I forgot my damn umbrella at work! I had to stop under the nearest tree. When I was sure that the rain had stopped, I continued my long journey home. You know what happened next? I fucking slipped and fell in the sewer by the side of the road.

It wasn’t that deep. I wish it was. I wish it damaged my head so that I will go into a coma and sleep for a long time and away from all these bad luck.

But all I got was a few scratches on my knees, lumps of muck on my hair and clothes, and the stench of the damn sewer.

I wish it would rain so hard so maybe some of the dirt from my body would be washed out. But of course, the clouds wanted to laugh at me. It just gave little drizzles of rain.

I HAVE BADLUCK IN MY VEINS!

Clutching my muddy bag to my chest, I walked the deserted road to my apartment. The whole area is already dark because I know for a fact that it is already ten p.m. It says so on my muddy watch.

After what seemed like an endless and cold walk along the dark road, I reached my apartment building.

It somehow made me feel better knowing that I can run a hot bath and soak in bubbles tonight to clean myself. And maybe I can cry and pity myself until the sun rises.

Good thing no one seems to be awake at this hour. I went up to my floor without worrying that I’ll bump into one of my neighbors. They won’t see me, or worst, smell me.

With the hallway quiet, I can clearly hear the squeaking sound of my shoes with every step I make.

A few more steps and I reached my apartment door. I felt great relief. I am finally here. This is my place. In here, I know that I will forever be safe from the harm of the whole world.

Okay, that sounds exaggerated but that’s how I really feel when I am inside my apartment. I’ve only been here for a year but it truly felt like the homiest place I’ve ever been.

With a relieved heart, I opened my bag to get my keys. As I reached inside, I felt that all of my belongings are coated in mud and trash from the sewer. Even my phone and my planner. I won’t need the planner anymore but my phone is something that I’ll need. I will have it checked in the morning. I hope it’s still okay and just needs a little drying up.

I have touched every object inside my bag and scanned every pocket, but to my horror, only one thing is missing.

My keys!

It’s not there. I know it should be there. It can’t be anywhere. I don’t have a pocket and I can still remember seeing it in my bag before I left the office.

Then it dawned on me. I must’ve dropped it when I fell in the sewer.

Maybe I can still go back and look for it. But that place is not that near. It would be another long walk for me. And when I get there, how would I find it? That place is pitch black. I have bad eyesight. The most sensible thing to do right now is to wait till the sunrise so I have enough light.

So, am I going to stay here in the hallway till morning?

I felt hot tears start to form at the corners of my eyes.

I am jobless. My feet have blisters. My knees are scratched. My whole body is soaked in sewer water. And now, I am also homeless.

What kind of shit life is this?

I felt like my whole world crumbled right in front of me, making my knees weak causing me to end up sitting in the hallway. I pulled my knees to my chest, hugged it, and buried my face there.

Then in one big moment, all my tears started to stream down my face. My shoulders shook as I silently sobbed.

Nothing is going right in my whole life. I fucked up big time and now I have to wait till sunrise just to get a nice bath.

I wish that life will stop joking on me now.

“(Y/N)?” a voice interrupted my child-like sobs.

I looked up to see who the voice belongs to and my eyes landed on a very familiar figure walking in the hallway to my direction.

He’s carrying a folded umbrella on one hand and a grocery bag on the other. As usual, he is wearing ripped jeans and a simple t-shirt. His hair is a big mess on his head but it still looked good.

I can see concern on his face as he looked at me.

“What are you doing here?” Hyunsik asked. “What happened to you?”

“Don’t come near me.” I instantly said with my palm facing him.

Confusion flashed on his face and I know that at that exact moment, he smelled me.

Oh God, that’s the moment that I just want to throw myself off the building. I can’t believe this!

I’ve always had a huge crush on my neighbor, Hyunsik, ever since I moved here. He’s just so sweet all the time. And he helped me a lot on my first month. I wasn’t used to being independent because I’ve always lived with my parents. But Hyunsik made everything easier. He was always there and we kind of became friends. Of course, I never told him about how I feel. I know that he doesn’t feel the same way for me. He’s just nice. I am not like other girls who will assume that boys like them just because they gave them some attention or help them carry their grocery bags… Or fix the pipe under the sink… Or cook for you.

No, I’m not like that!

Ok, maybe a little. I might’ve hoped that he likes me too. But he never made any move on me so I know that he doesn’t. He just wanted friendship. So I kept this little crush inside me.

I felt my face turn as hot as melted iron. I wanted to run away screaming but I can’t.

My chest felt so tight and that’s when I did what I shouldn’t have done.

I cried and told him everything that had happened to me the whole day. Every bit of unluckiness that came my way. He was standing five feet from me, intently listening to my entire story.

After my long rant, Hyunsik just stood in silence as if he is deep in thought.

I don’t know how he took all of that information and I don’t know what to do next so I just sat in silence too and waited for him to say something.

“Let’s go inside my apartment.” He suddenly said. “You can take a bath there and we’ll figure out what to do with your door.” He offered to me.

“Are you sure?” I hesitated for a bit. It’s not my first time going inside his apartment, I’ve done it a dozen times in the past already but they were just very quick visits, like when I will ask for sugar or borrow DVD from him. But I’ve never been to any of the rooms aside from the living room. Let alone inside his bathroom. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. I might get the dirt on the floor and your apartment will smell like shit too.” Ok, that is really my concern.

He clucked his tongue impatiently and crossed the five feet distance between us. I backed away, even when I couldn’t, still embarrassed about my situation but his hand caught my arm and held it firmly, pulling me to my feet.

“That’s okay.” He said. And he led me inside his apartment.

It feels weird. I am inside his small bathroom. It’s kind of identical to mine but of course there is a big difference. For example, while mine is lined with different soaps, shampoo bottles, and conditioner bottles, his only has a plain looking bar of soap and one bottle of shampoo.

Everything looked so simple and manly.

As the warm water from the shower head pours on my skin, I feel relaxed. It’s as if all the worries that I have are being washed away with the sewer muck.

I used his soap and shampoo and both smell good. It smells like him.

I know it for a fact because I may have sniffed him once when I was near him. Ok, maybe twice. Or thrice. Or… I don’t know. He smells good. Not the manly, musky scent. Just the smell of fresh shower that doesn’t hurt anyone’s nose. Especially mine.

Now, I smell like him too.

He lent me his extra towel, a large white shirt with Nirvana printed on it, and black shorts.

Hyunsik is a big man. So, when I wore his clothes, I look like a little kid.

As much as I just want to stay inside the shower until the sun rises, I can’t. To be honest, I still feel a bit shy. I am invading his privacy while wearing his clothes after using his shampoo. But he knocked on the door and asked if I was okay. I had to say that I am going to come out in a bit.

I had no choice but to go outside.

I wrapped my hair with the towel as I usually do after the shower. I don’t really like it when the wet strands make my neck wet too.

I found Hyunsik on the couch watching TV. A pile of chips are arranged on the coffee table in front. That must be what he bought outside before he saw me.

From where I am standing, I got to study him. His arms are relaxed on either side of him on the back rest of the couch. His legs are stretched in front of me and he is bare feet. His focus is on the TV. When he is deep in thought, he will sometimes lick his lower lip.

As if he felt that I am there, he glanced at me.

I am not sure if it was just my imagination or my mind assuming things again, but I think I saw something flicker in his eyes. It’s as if his gaze is burning my skin that on impulse, my hand shot up to cover my chest.

And that’s when I remember that I am not wearing any undergarments. So many things running in my mind that I didn’t even consider the fact that I don’t have anything underneath the shirt or the shorts.

Hyunsik cleared his throat and averted his gaze from me. “Have you eaten anything?” He said in his friendly, neighborly tone.

I shook my head. I really am hungry right now.

“I have some left over lasagna, are you okay with that?”

“Yeah.” I answered.

I sat on the couch and waited for him. After a few minutes, he came back with a plate of warm lasagna and a can of cold beer.

“I just thought you might need it.” He said, referring to the beer.

I uttered a small “Thanks,” and accepted the plate and can from him.

The atmosphere is really heavy. It’s like everything is so silent. Neither of us talked while he watched TV beside me as I ate my food and drank my beer.

It was when I put down my empty plate that he finally talked.

“I tried to open your door by breaking the lock,” he started. “But it’s making so much noise. We’ll have to do it in the morning.”

“Oh.” Was all the I managed to say. So what will happen to me now?

“You can sleep here.” He finally offered as if reading my mind. “I’ll sleep here on the couch, you can take my bed.”

“Are you sure?”

“Why? Are you planning to sleep in the hallway?” He said to me quizzically.

“Of course, not.” I said at once.

He smiled. “That’s settled then,”

You see, this is what makes me weak all the time. Aside from him being the gentleman that he is, there’s this huge thing about his smile. It’s not any ordinary smile. When Hyunsik smiles, it reaches his eyes and he looks like the sun and I am Icarus, hypnotized by it, wanting to come closer and closer until it melts my wings and I fall without anyone catching me and eventually die.

“Do you want to sleep now?” Hyunsik asked, snapping me out of my daze.

I am tired, but I am not really sleepy. “Not yet.”

“Do you want to watch a movie?” he offered.

A movie doesn’t seem too bad at this moment. It can take my mind off my problems.

I am glad that we didn’t talk about what happened to me. Sometimes you just don’t want to. Not everyone is up for the Let’s talk about your problems kind of conversation. Hyunsik understands that about me.

We watched Taken first. That movie never gets old. The thrill is still there even after watching it a dozen times. Both Hyunsik and I recited Liam Neeson’s famous lines when he answered the call after his daughter was abducted. Obviously enjoying the movie, I didn’t realize that I have already emptied six cans of beer and a full bag of chips. I just felt my face numbing a bit by the end of the movie. Hyunsik had more beer than me but he doesn’t look tipsy at all. He really is a guy that can hold his alcohol.

We had some conflict with the next movie that we are going to watch but we settled for Cabin In The Woods.

Not an hour after the movie started, I am already regretting our decision. My heart is beating so fast and I am hiding behind the pillow.

“W-We shouldn’t have watched this.” I said to Hyunsik. Well, more like whisper as if the things inside the TV would hear me and eat my heart out.

Hyunsik huffed. “Scared-y cat.” He said. “It’s just a movie.”

“I know!” I said back. “But the damn effects are scaring me to hell.”

I heard him chuckle. That deep honey-like chuckle that just makes anyone melt. “You aren’t even watching the movie; you are just behind that pillow.”

“I am watching it. I glimpse at it, okay. And your pillow isn’t big enough. It can’t even protect me from the monsters there. What if it jumps out of---“

My words were cut off when a loud noise blasted from the speakers. I don’t know why there was shouting, but I shouted along with whoever is shouting. I leaped out of my place, hoping to look for somewhere to hide. I just closed my eyes and tightly held whatever my hands landed on first.

I don’t know how long I was in that position but it didn’t take me long to realize where I am.

Slowly, I opened my eyes and I was met by Hyunsik’s face a few inches away from mine. My arm is around the back of his neck and my fist is clutching the cloth on his back.

Little by little, I became aware of everything.

His eyes looking deeply into mine. His lips slightly parted. I can feel his breathing on my face. I am sitting on his lap.

All the sounds inside the room is being drowned out by the loud beating of my heart. I can hear the blood rushing in my veins and I am highly sensitive to everything.

He wasn’t moving and I wasn’t too. We were both trying to figure out what the situation is.

He licked his lips and it made me draw my breath.

He caught that.

I am sure of it because then, a small smile played on his lips.

“Should we…” he said breathlessly, not removing his eyes on me.

He didn’t need to finish what he was going to say.

I nodded my head.

I closed the gap between us. My lips found his. The moment our skin came in contact, I closed my eyes and my whole body buzzed into a rhythm, Mouth, teeth, and tongue slowly dancing together. Warm breaths and sweet moans passed between us. Small bites, lightly grazing each other’s teeth on each other’s lips. A small smile.

We do not need our sight to know what we need to do next. With our bare hands on each other’s body, we felt our movements. It’s a dance that we both know even without words.

I felt his palm move up to my knees, up to my thigh, lightly squeezing along the way, sending shivers throughout my body making me hot and wanting to melt.

I am a restless fire reaching up to the starry night.

His hands moved up to my waist and in one swift movement, he lifted me up and placed me down on his lap again, but this time, I found myself straddling him. My legs are on either side of his. I felt him hard under me.

Our lips moved more passionately like waves fighting each other, not letting anyone stop us. Next thing we know is we find ourselves in the same position but our clothes are discarded to God-knows-where. The room is cold and we had to cling on each other’s warm bodies.

I am slick and wet on top of him and I let him feel it every time I move and drag myself on his length, earning grunts and moans from him.

He left my swollen lips and moved to the back of my ears and down to my neck leaving soft wet kisses, his tongue lightly tasting my skin. Each kiss is like a trigger pulling something inside me, taking me deeper into ecstasy. I felt his hand on my hips again, pulling me up to kneel.

His slow kisses trailed down to my collarbone, to my shoulder, and found its way to my chest. His lips closed in on one nipple and I had to throw my head back in pleasure when I felt his wet tongue and warm breath. My hands gripped his shoulders as he sucked my nipple.

His arm is around my waist, pulling me closer to him as he took in more of me in his mouth. His other hand moved on the inside of my thigh, up and down, until it found the wetness of my core. He teased it and it one swift movement, one finger found its way inside me, then another, both are parting me.

His lips on my nipple, and his fingers inside me, Both moved in a rhythm simultaneously. Pure and raw lust came over me and I found myself moving along to him. I shuddered and I called out his name shamelessly.

I don’t know how long it went on because I was panting for air and everything just feels good and I want him to never stop what he is doing.

But when his lips and fingers left my body, I felt deprived that I had to bite my lip.

“Look at me.” His voice ringing in my ears like thunder and I have to obey.

I met his dark eyes and I know that this is the moment.

His hand reached down between us and I planted my own hands on his shoulders.

“Just look at me.” He said again,

Slowly, he lowered me down. I felt his tip part my entrance. I took my time and I had to wince as he gradually enters me, stretching me. I winced in pain and pleasure but not once did I look away from him.

His eyes grew darker and darker the more he goes deeper inside me. My walls slowly wrapping around him, gripping him tight.

I saw him bite his lip and he cursed under his breath, something I never heard him say before.

I almost lost my breath when I finally had all of him inside me and he already hit a spot inside me causing ripples of lust to crawl all around my body.

He is hot and pulsing inside me and I didn’t dare to move because I am afraid that I will break.

“Move.” He finally said with that firm voice again.

I closed my eyes and moved. I kneeled up and sat back down again and every time I do so, a part of my soul goes away with my moans.

His hands gripping my thighs tightly and I felt absolute pleasure and pride when with each movement I make, he threw his head back.

Our moans and groans of pleasure and the steam of our bodies filled the whole room. He is now moving along with me and we met each other’s movements.

Nothing is making sense in my mind right now. Lust has totally taken over me. I don’t know when we moved or how but the next thing I know is I was slumped on the backrest of the couch with my back to him and I was kneeling.

He positioned himself behind me and entered me from there. Slowly like the first time. And I felt his chest on my back and his mouth on my ear. His hands groped my chest from behind. And he moved in and out over and over again.

His hot breath and grunts are on my neck as he sucked and bit it giving me more pleasure than pain.

I am pulsing and convulsing under him and I had to grip the backrest of the couch tightly. I was a moaning and screaming mess as the waves of orgasm slowly built inside me.

His movement became harsher and hungrier and I swear I heard him scream my name once.

Dots danced behind my eyelids and my walls pulsed and shuddered around him as my orgasm came. Moments later, he pulsed inside me too and hot seed poured inside me.

Gasping for air, he pulled out of me and collapsed on the couch. I did too and I laid my head on his chest.

No words passed between us, just our heavy breathing.

I looked up to the TV and to the long-forgotten movie still playing but already reaching its end.

I smiled.

Looks like I wasn’t really that unlucky at all.

[amberlynnmurdock]

DINER SERIES (12)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader Insert

Genre: some much needed fluff. im so sorry for all that angst. 

Series Summary: After the fall of S.H.I.E.L.D. and HYDRA out in the world, Bucky Barnes is on the run. He finds himself in a small town in Pennsylvania and in it a diner he likes to come to late at night. He only planned on staying here for a week, until he meets you. And he finds a few reasons to stay.

Chapter Summary: You show Bucky a part of your soul. 

MASTERLIST

Warmth.

It’s what Bucky wakes up to. It’s not the kind of warmth you feel when the sun rays are shining across your eyelids, it’s the kind of warmth you wake up to when your arms are wrapped around someone in bed, holding them close to you. The warmth spreads all across your body and even warms your heart a bit.

That’s how Bucky feels this morning.

When he wakes up it’s just past seven in the morning. His eyes feel heavy at first. His flesh hand is on your stomach, the pads of his fingers tracing your skin as he pulls away from you suddenly. You’re still sleeping soundly, Bucky makes sure.

This has been a common occurrence lately. With the lack of options for motels, most of the places you and Bucky stayed in, the rooms only came with one bed. You were okay with it, and Bucky would be too, if he wasn’t so afraid of himself. But he found that the nights were easier sleeping beside you, anyways. He always woke up to himself completely wrapped around you, your legs intertwined with his. He didn’t know if you knew this or even minded, but if he ever woke up before you, which he always did, he always switched positions. Bucky pulls his metal arm from under your waist slowly and lays on his back, resting the back of his head on his hand.

You’ve had enough of this.

“Bucky,” You mumble half asleep, already feeling cool air settle on your skin, the warmth from Bucky’s body disappearing. The thin blankets the motel came with weren’t nearly as satisfying as Bucky. He was pretty much like a heated blanket wrapped around you, so the change in temperature is drastic enough for you to say something. Bucky turns his head to look at you immediately,

“Yes?”

“You always pull away. Am I taking up that much room?” You question, hoping that he gets the message. The beds were full sized beds and compared to Bucky’s size, you didn’t take up nearly half as much room as he did. He chuckles softly, finding his arm around your waist once again, pulling you snug against him.

“Not at all,” Bucky says in your ear, his voice a tired low octave. The feeling sends tingles down your neck as you smile contently, closing your eyes again letting sleep consume you.

Bucky finds a bit more sleep, too.

~

It’s only been four days since you and Bucky left that small town. You and Bucky decided to take it slow, but not too slow, on your way out. Changing towns frequently would draw attention to Bucky and besides, you both wanted to spend just a little more time together.

You’re still in Pennsylvania but far away from what now feels like a past life to you. A chapter ended. A new one begins, or maybe it’s the same one you were never able to finish in the first place. Like taking a bookmark out of an old, forgotten book you left years ago.

Sitting across from Bucky in a diner, you look at him behind your menu thoughtfully with quiet eyes. If not for him you’d probably still be trapped in that place. Or maybe not, you weren’t sure. Either way, words cannot express how thankful you are to have met Bucky.

Well, maybe it was Stacy you should be thanking. After all, she was the one who initiated conversation between you two. You smile at the memory and look down at your menu. This diner was much larger than that old one you found solace in so many times before and had an even bigger menu. There’s no old jazz music playing, instead today’s pop hits play over the speakers. It’s a modern diner with photos of famous sports players from different decades.

“I’ve never seen such a complex menu. For a diner,” Bucky seems to voice his thoughts, his stormy blue eyes still glued to his menu. You look up at him again and giggle softly,

“So many options, so little time,” You reply. You and Bucky had to catch a Greyhound Bus in an hour and a half, but before going, you insisted on going to a diner.

“I see the breakfast menu and I want waffles, but then I see the burgers and I want a cheeseburger…” Bucky trails off. Suddenly, he places the menu flat on the table and slides it over to you. You give him a questioning look.

“What should I get?” He asks you.

You give him a small smile, “I think you should get whatever you want to get.” You shrug and say simply.

Bucky holds your gaze for a moment. The look in his eyes is something you can’t decipher, or maybe you can–you’re just too coaxed by the color. He blinks and looks back down at the menu.

“Waffles.”    

“My favorite.” You reply.

Time passes. By the time you’re both waiting for the check, Bucky lets his attention wander around the diner. It looks nothing like the one he met you in, which is a good thing, he thinks. It’s a change of scenery, especially for you. It’s not a place for you to escape to but a place for you to simply go to.

Bucky looks at the endless photos of baseball players and recognizes a few them, not bothering to look at their name on the plaque below their picture. A memory strikes his mind in faded images: he sees boxes of crackerjacks and blue balloons, and a small blonde kid next to him.

He snaps out of the memory as soon as it crosses his mind. His attention is pulled away when the TV across the room blares the latest headline: HOW AMERICA TAKES DOWN THE THREAT OF HYDRA.

Bucky must have been looking at it for quite some time, because in the next moment he feels your hand on his across the table. He looks at you for an answer, but all you do is smile.

“Just look at me,” You say softly. Bucky nods his head and relaxes into his seat in the booth. Look at you. He could do that for the rest of his life, he thinks.

Your hand is still in his when the waiter comes by to drop the check, an older fellow, probably in his late fifties. He reminds Bucky of Stacy, for some reason.

“Here you kids go,” The waiter says. Bucky squints his eyes to look for his name tag. John.

“Thank you,” You reply, already reaching for your wallet. Bucky almost protests but you raise your hand in defense.

“Say, with those two bags, where you kids goin’? You travelers or somethin’?” John asks. Bucky freezes and looks at you but you remain a perfectly calm composure. You smile brightly at John and nod your head.

“Something like that…” Bucky catches your eye as you give him a wink, “Think of it as soul searching.” You say to John. Bucky can feel the look of admiration on his own face. He looks down and smiles sheepishly.

~

The Greyhound Bus logo makes you think of that Simon and Garfunkel song, and you start humming it softly as the bus sets its wheels in motion. Bucky requested the aisle seat for reasons you didn’t know, but that’s okay because you love the window seat.

You feel his arm brush against yours and you look at him. He smiles softly as you slide your hand down his arm, feeling the hard metal beneath the fabric of his jacket, and you slip your fingers through his gloved ones. You look at him questioningly and he nods,

“It’s okay,” Bucky whispers, his nose brushing your cheek. “What are you humming?”

You immediately stop and press your lips together in embarrassment. You didn’t realize your humming was that loud, but you answer gladly.

“America. It’s a song by Simon and Garfunkel,” You tell him. Bucky’s look of confusion is both adorable and a bit heartbreaking, knowing the reason why he didn’t know the names you spoke of.

“Oh,” He replies. You squeeze his hand tighter,

“I’ve gotta show you their music–you’d love them. Bookends is like, the soundtrack to my life,” You tell him, “Really beautiful stuff.”

“Hmm,” Bucky hums, “I’d really like that.”

~

It wasn’t a very long bus ride at all. Only three hours, and now you and Bucky are in southern Pennsylvania but still far from where you need to be. But neither of you mind. You’re not in a rush.

This time it’s you that finds the motel. It’s called Moonlight Inn, with a yellow neon crescent moon lit up. You check in as Bucky waits behind you, his backpack on his back, your duffle bag in his hands. When you get the keys from the front desk woman, you turn around and hold them up, dangling them in your fingers.

It’s dark out. Pitch black is the color of the sky. The walls of the motel are a teal blue with yellow lighting in the walkways. It’s under the radar, it’s quiet, it’s safe. But Bucky is still on edge as he looks around the lot.

One blue truck is far away from you and him. Two cars parked next to each other on the other side, red and blue. Other than that, it doesn’t look like many people are staying here. Bucky relaxes as you finally reach your room number. Sliding the key in the lock, you open it.

Stepping inside, the motel room is pretty small, smaller than you and Bucky have encountered. But neither of you mind. Even if there were two beds, you’d probably make up an excuse to justify the other bed’s use for your bags. You smile the thought away as you do a quick room check to see anything concerning. Nothing. Bucky shuts the door and locks it, then super locks it with the door chain.

“I’m gonna shower real quick,” You tell Bucky, reaching for your bag, “You okay?” You ask Bucky as he peeks out the window. He looks at you and nods, his fingers still holding the blinds,

“Yeah, I’m okay. I’ll be out here.”

“We’re safe here, Bucky. Don’t worry,” You tell him. He nods, but that doesn’t stop him from looking out once more.

~

The TV is on but it mostly serves as background noise and something to look at for Bucky. No, he could careless about the reality show of a family on the screen. He’s too focused on your fingers lightly running up and down his flesh arm in a soothing way. Bucky can just feel his heart growing in his chest by the second, just on the verge of bursting with pure infatuation. He’s hypnotized by your movements. Bucky could fucking melt but he’s making himself stay put to not disrupt your movements.

“Oh my, God!” You exclaim, causing Bucky to jump. You let out a laugh at his reaction and quickly suppress it with a hand to your mouth.

In the past few days, Bucky has gotten to know your personality, the one without a guard up, completely free. You’re still quiet, that same aura that Bucky fell for the first time he saw you, but you’re also passionate, and there was nothing quiet about that.  

“What?” Bucky asks.

“I almost forgot about showing you the songs,” You get up and leave Bucky’s arm to his disappointment.

“Oh…”

“Oh, shit. I don’t even think I packed an iPod.”

“A what?”

“It’s a–you’ll see. Just give me a second.”

You unzip your duffle bag and quickly scrummage through it, hoping that by some grace of God there is something in here that plays music, though it is very unlikely. Your heart nearly stops when you feel something hard tucked between a thick sweater sleeve.

“No fucking way,” You say under your breath, pulling out an old iPod classic. But you aren’t shocked. You remember hiding this from him in your clothes all the time. Your only form of escape when you couldn’t leave the house.

“What?” Bucky asks a bit urgently. You turn around and hold up the small device in your hand.

“I got it!”

When you join Bucky back in bed, you sit cross legged next to him while his legs are spread out in front of him. You explain to him what it is, that it’s a small device that can hold thousands and thousands of songs and you can listen to it wherever you are.

“Is it traceable?” He asks.

“Not this one. This one is ancient. Completely safe,” You reassure him. You click the iPod on and see there’s only fifty percent battery left. It was enough to show Bucky Simon and Garfunkel’s best.

You pat the spot beside you, “Come sit.”

Bucky clicks the TV off and moves to sit next to you, his right knee touching your left. He pretends to not notice how you move even closer to him.

“Alright, here,” You hand him a earbud and you almost tell him what it is, but he slips it into his left ear, the chord stretching long enough. You put the other one in your right ear and slide the circular button.

“So, the song I was humming on the bus is called America. It’s on the album Bookends, which is my favorite album,” You explain to Bucky. He nods, pushing his hair behind his ears and tying his hair into a low bun. You love the look. You also notice how focused he looks on the iPod, watching as your thumb moves across the motion sensed button. His lips are pursed together, eyes squinted.

The song begins to play. The soft hums of Simon and Garfunkel ease your mind as you close your eyes, getting lost in their voices. It’s beautiful. This duo was with you all throughout high school, college, and now, sharing them with Bucky. It feels right.

When the song is over, you look at Bucky for his reaction. He has a hint of a smile on his face. You’re beaming.

“Play another,” Bucky says quietly as he nods to the iPod. You smile as you search through some songs, settling on Mrs. Robinson.

The more upbeat song sends you blushing slightly as you watch Bucky’s reaction. His eyes flick to yours for a moment before he looks back down at the screen and smiles a little. You inch closer to Bucky and lean your elbow on his knee.

Listening to the songs with Bucky, he realizes in that moment that he’s never smiled more in his life than he has in his time spent with you so far. You take away those horrors that sit deep in chest. You make his heart feel light. When you touch him he turns to putty in your hands. You’re showing him a part of you by showing him these songs. He starting to like Simon and Garfunkel.

When the song ends, you scroll through their entire discography in your iPod, and a title catches Bucky’s attention.

“What’s… Bridge Over Troubled Water?” Bucky asks.

Your heart melts at the question, “The most beautiful song ever written. So many times in my college days this song has saved me from the stress of school and well, life.” Bucky nods his head as you press play.

The piano begins a soft melody and Bucky is taken by the sound immediately. An image forms in his mind, a little girl with brown hair sitting at a piano. She’s terrible at it, but he likes it. Bucky smiles at the memory, and shortly, it disappears.

When you're weary, feeling small

When tears are in your eyes, I'll dry them all (all)

I'm on your side, oh, when times get rough

And friends just can't be found

Like a bridge over troubled water

I will lay me down

Like a bridge over troubled water

I will lay me down

The lyrics take a toll on Bucky. He looks at you for a moment, but your attention is on the iPod. Clearly, this song means a lot to you. You’re so beautiful, Bucky thinks to himself. His eyes trail down to your neck, the now fading bruises almost gone. When he looks back up at you, you look away from him shyly.

When you're down and out

When you're on the street

When evening falls so hard

I will comfort you (ooo)

I'll take your part, oh, when darkness comes

And pain is all around

Like a bridge over troubled water

I will lay me down

Like a bridge over troubled water

I will lay me down

You sort of feel like by showing Bucky this song, you’re showing him a part of your soul–a part, at least, that he hasn’t seen yet. You place the iPod on the bed and sigh with a soft breath, folding your hands together.

Bucky feels this warm sensation spread through his chest every time he looks at you. He can’t explain it, but he likes it, and it’s certainly not a feeling he has felt before, or at least, in seventy years. It’s a feeling that when he looks at the world, it’s okay. You’ve changed his views on the world in many small, though significant ways for him. Bucky no longer sees the world against him but that could be for the reason now that you are his world.

Bucky is still recovering because it takes time but you sure as hell have helped him through some of his darkest, darkest moments.

Sail on silver girl

Sail on by

Your time has come to shine

All your dreams are on their way

See how they shine

Oh, if you need a friend

I'm sailing right behind

Like a bridge over troubled water

I will ease your mind

Like a bridge over troubled water

I will ease your mind

The song ends and you and Bucky are silent, the soft white noise from the earphones the only thing audible. Your hands are still locked together, unsure of what to say, though you feel like saying a million things to Bucky. Thank you? I’m so glad we started talking about milkshakes that one night? When you hold me it feels like my soul is on fire and I really, really want you to do it again?

“What did you think?” Your voice is barely above a whisper. He doesn’t respond.

When you turn to look at Bucky you see that he’s already looking at you, his blue gaze pouring into your eyes. His usual stormy looking eyes look calmer, but his jaw is set tight. You open your mouth to say something but instead, you find yourself leaning closer to him. You see Bucky’s finger twitch–he grips his knee, like he’s trying to contain himself from touching you.

Which he is. He still, deep down, knows he doesn’t deserve this from you. He doesn’t deserve to feel your fingers lightly running up and down his arm. He doesn’t deserve to wake up to himself completely wrapped around you and for you to want it. He doesn’t deserve any of it. He sees you leaning in. Why is he frozen, held back from invisible chains keeping him from touching you? What is stopping him?

Don’t do it, Bucky thinks to himself. But it’s too late, because by the time he closes the distance between you, your lips touch, and Bucky is sent into a state of bliss. The chains break. He let’s go and he lets himself feel this in every way he can.

The kiss is slow, as time seems to stop. It’s everything Bucky could have wanted, though. Your lips are soft, a perfect mold against his own, and he presses his lips to yours a bit harder. There’s a gentle urgency beneath his movements, as he turns his head and brushes his nose against yours. Your hands tentatively let go of each other and you find yourself mirroring Bucky’s position of gripping your knees, holding yourself back from absolutely wrapping him in your arms.

You think to yourself that you’re going to have to make the first move, but you don’t mind at all. You think you both need reassurance because God, this is too much to handle. You need his touch.

You place your hands over his flesh one and Bucky takes this as an invitation. He slides his hand from under yours and cups your face gently with his metal hand. The coolness spreads from your chin to your cheek, a much needed relief from the warmth in your chest, though both sensations were absolutely breathtaking.

It doesn’t take long before you find it in yourself to get into his lap, straddling your legs around his waist. You place your hands on his shoulders, one side warm and soft, the other hard and cold. Bucky breaks the kiss for a moment and looks up at you,

“Wait,” Bucky says with a low rasp, “Do you want this?” He looks worried. You can’t understand why.

Your heart breaks at his low, small voice. You’ve never wanted anything more than this.

You place your index finder and thumb on Bucky’s cleft chin and raise his head to look into your eyes, “With my whole heart, yes.”

Bucky kisses you with so much passion burning in his chest. His kisses trail from your lips, to your jaw, to your neck, and the only bruises made there are the ones done by the intensity of his lips.

You kiss him again, this time deeper. Bucky deepens the kiss even more as he places his left hand on the back of your neck, bringing you down with him as he lays on his back. Still straddling him, you take his arms and place them on the pillow where his head rests. You pull back. He looks at you with dreamy eyes.

“I was wondering when that was going to happen,” It’s a small confession you make, a blush creeping onto your cheeks. Bucky pushes a strand of your hair behind your ear,

“I’m sorry to keep you waiting, doll.” The pet name escapes his lips before he could even think about it, like the ghost of a name. You don’t seem to mind it at all, so Bucky doesn’t mind. He takes a mental note, however, at how you smile at it.

“Well,” you kiss his lips between your words, “better late than never.”

The biggest smile spreads across Bucky’s face and you realize that he has never shone so brightly before. You hoped he’d let this feeling come easier to him as time goes on.

You sit up in his lap and takes your hands, intertwining his fingers with yours. You’re holding down on him as he pressing up towards you, a perfect balance. In the soft glow of the lamp, you look beautiful.

“You’re beautiful,” Bucky tells you, finally voicing his thoughts. You’re blushing again, and Bucky finds that he likes this reaction from you.

“No,” You say breathlessly, “You are.”

He looks at you for a moment, and you swear you see a hint of sadness spread across his features, but it’s gone the moment you see it. He breathes a heavy sigh as he brings your right hand down and kisses your knuckles.

“There’s so many things I want to do with you, but–“

“Not enough time,” You finish his sentence and he presses his lips together, knowing fully well that you both know your time together is limited.

“Well, we’re still here,” You say, “I’ve never felt more safe than I have with you, Bucky.”

Bucky takes your words lightly.

“I wish we could be like that song America,” Bucky breathes and says thoughtfully. He brings both your hands back up again, playing with them in the air as you sit straddled around his waist on the thin mattress.

“Hmm. What are we going to be instead?” You ask him, leaning across his torso and dipping down to steal a kiss. He holds your lips with his for a moment before you pull back for his response.

“I don’t know,” he says, and there’s that hint of sadness again except in his voice, but he’s still thinking of an answer, “I can be your… bridge over troubled water, though.” A huge smile spreads across your lips and Bucky feels a small sense of pride that he was the reason behind it.

“That’d be a huge debt to owe, Barnes. But a debt that’s not a burden. I’d only have to be the same for you,” You say, and you’re not joking.

Neither is Bucky. “You don’t owe me anything.”

“I do, though,” You tell him, a bit more serious, “I do.”

“You don’t.”

You’re silent, and Bucky reaches up to meet your lips. He swiftly lifts you up off his waist and sets you down beside him, pulling you close. Your body is immediately covered with the heat of his as you settle down next to him, enjoying his warmth.

You feel his lips kiss your shoulder. He reaches behind him to turn the lamp off. You feel your iPod beneath the sheets but you don’t bother to move it. You don’t want to leave Bucky’s arms even for a second. He pulls the blanket over the two of you and whispers into your ear.

“Good night. We’ll have all day tomorrow,” Bucky says. Your heart melts at his words. A day is not enough with Bucky Barnes. Perhaps an entire lifetime.

[straykidstrash]

darkness჻ღཾཿ༉ ༘bang chan

—“Maybe it wasn’t that bad. I mean the power cut.” 

College!Chan fluff

note: dis ma first scenario… I had a breakdown towards the end and I was about to delete the whole story yesterday, so excuse the shitty ending and uh this took me roughly a month, pls appreciate my effort lol, I’m insecure. 

word count: aprox. 3000

warnings: none, it’s just really cringy and lots of cliche shit… im a soft person

1st P.O.V & Switching

Chan’s P.O.V

Darkness. That’s all I can see, or rather cannot see. I’ve been living in this new apartment near my college for 2 weeks now and so far the power cut off three times. When I signed the contract, I didn’t expect much, this was pretty much the cheapest accommodation I could find and as a college student, I can’t always take care of my luxury needs. The worst part about the power falling out is, that I have no idea where the main switch is located. I get up and slowly drag my tired self to the window, light falling through the slit between the curtains. My hands find their way to the thin cotton and I push it aside. “Thought so,” I whisper. Judging by the lights shining brightly from the buildings in front of mine, it seems like we are the only ones without power. I step back from the window and take a look at my phone. “1:46 AM”. I could just sleep but considering that I still have papers to get done, I take a sip of my freshly brewed coffee and get back to work. My eyes fall on the little energy bar of my computer and the choice to sleep starts to sound really good again. 5% and an unsaved project, great duo. I abruptly get up, almost losing my slipper in that process, and stalk to the door. The doorknob is cold and I’m trying my best to turn it quietly, which turns out to be a really hard task in this trashy building. The door opens squeakily and I step outside. The cold air hits my bare arms, but that isn’t what surprises me.

(Y/N)’s P.O.V

Darkness. The only thing I’m afraid of. The feeling of not knowing what’s going to happen and losing a sense scares me. Living in this apartment for a couple of months taught me a lot. A broken sink? The plumber is in my contacts on top! Crumbling walls? No problem! The Power falling out? Could be a problem, especially because the landlord won’t take care of it until the next morning, but a very nice old lady, who’s living a floor above mine, usually lets me stay at hers over the night. I take a look at the clock in the kitchen. “1:45AM”, as expected. I shiver, my eyes automatically looking for something warm to wear, just to be disappointed by the darkness surrounding me. I start to wander around, my hands examining the surfaces for a hoodie. Something soft strokes my fingertips and I grasp it, it’s indeed a hoodie. I slip it on and tiptoe to the door. I step outside and try to quietly close the door again. I turn around and hush to the stairs, the windows letting some light shine into the stairwell. “Hey! Isn’t that my sweater!?”, I get a hold of the handrail and turn around. I stand face to face with a young men. “Sorry?”, I whisper back. He chuckles, “The hoodie you’re wearing, isn’t that mine?” I look down and mentally cringe. This is unbelievable. I have a tone of hoodies but hence the pitch blackness I grabbed the one laying on the counter. The one I found in the library and meant to bring back to the owner days ago. The young man cracks a smile and looks down. “I’m sorry, I am so so sorry! I found it in the library and I wanted to give it back to the owner but I didn’t know who the owner was so I just had it lying on my counter for the few past days, but then the power fell out and I get scared by the dark, so as always I wanted to go up to stay at my neighbor’s, but then I got cold and it was too dark for me to look at what’s printed on the back, I’m so-“, he interrupts my rant, “it’s ok, just give it back tomorrow, I guess”. A second passes… and another… and another… “Who are you!?” His eyes widen. “I-“, he chuckles, “I’m Bang Chan, I moved here two weeks ago. I live in this apartment”, he points to the door behind him, I nod. An awkward silence arises and Chan tries to break it, “Go already! You should sleep!”, “Yeah, I guess I should… It was nice to meet you, Bang Chan.” He sticks out his hand. I look at it and then back in his eyes, my hand shaking his. He gives me a heartwarming smile and I stumble away, trough the darkness, up the stairs.

Chan’s P.O.V

Back in my apartment, I turn to my laptop. 4%. Fuck it, I can work on my papers tomorrow. I save the documents and shut it close. No bright light is left to illuminate the room. I make my way to the bedroom, careful not to walk in any of the remaining boxes. I fall on my bed, the sheets are soft and I swiftly slide under the covers. While shuffling around to find a comfortable position, my mind goes back to the girl I met in the stairwell. I had seen her around, on the campus, always hurrying out of the library, to get to the next class, with books under her arm and an open backpack swung on her shoulder. She didn’t even tell me her name, I’m gonna have to find it out a different time. 

Soft knocks let me arouse. My eyelids are heavy, and it’s difficult for me to read the time on my bright phone. Apparently, I haven’t even slept for 20 minutes. I let my head sink back into the pillow. The knocks come back, now much more urgently. My body feels heavy and it takes every muscle to get up. I slur to the door and ruffle through my bed hair, my curls are now worse than before, but I still get hold of the doorknob and pull the door open. I need a second to grasp the situation, but immediately as I understand that the girl, who lives on the same floor as me, is standing in front of me sobbing with a bleeding lip, I pull her in a hug trying to comfort her. Her tears stain my shirt. My hand comes in contact with her hair and I slowly stroke her head. I move a bit backwards, still holding her in my arms to close the front door, she stays unfazed. We stand still, the cold air occasionally brushing my neck or my ankles. As the times passes by, I randomly let out a hum or change from stroking her head to her back, feeling the unknown artist print under my touch. “Hey”, my voice is steady and I can feel her calming down, “I’m sorry, I don’t think I even know your name but”, I halt, “Do you wanna talk to me?”. She loses her arms which found their way to my torso and lets them fall down to her sides. She lowers her head and looks at her feet. “My name is Y/N”, she mumbles. “I, well it’s actually really dumb, but uh I just wanted to quickly go up and spend the night at Ms Park’s place but she wasn’t home so I wanted to go back but I forgot my keys. I have no idea why, I never forgot my keys before! I didn’t know where to go so I went to the convenience store at the end of the street, I didn’t have any money with me though.” I tilt my head giving her a small smile.“And why is your lip bleeding?” She raises her hand and carefully touches her lip.“Ah! Right”, she sniffs, “After I came back from the store, I wanted to get back to the building but because of the missing light I tripped and fell on the stairs. That’s why.” I gently tuck on her hand. “Let’s get out of this hallway” She turns around and I carefully shove her towards the kitchen. I can hear her chuckle, I hum questioning. “Even though I hate the darkness, I’m really glad that you can’t see my face right now. My face isn’t necessarily appealing after crying.” I guide her towards a chair and let her sit down. The kitchen is slightly illuminated by the bright city lights and Y/N’s eyes shimmer. My hoodie is already big on me but she looks like she’s getting eaten by it. I hand her the tissues and lean on the kitchen counter, my legs and arms crossed. A comfortable silence takes over.

Y/N’s P.O.V

“Are you tired?”, I look up, Chan’s eyes glitter. He uncrosses his arms and lets his fingers tap against the kitchen counter. I look outside, still pondering about whether I’m tired or not. In the corner of my eye, I can see Chan tilting his head. “A bit?” I answer, my eyes still capturing the city lights. “You have a nice view, unlike me. I look at an empty street with less than 3 street lamps.” He chuckles, “You’re right, I do have a nice view, but it’s also really bright at night. I have to get thicker and darker curtains in the next few days.” Chan follows my stare outside. “I’m guessing if you had as much light as I do, you wouldn’t be wearing my hoodie right now.” I smile, he’s right. Silence, again. I want to speak up, but I’m sitting in a strangers kitchen without my phone or power, I honestly don’t know what’s appropriate right now. “You haven’t answered my question yet”, the Stranger turns to look at me, I follow his actions. “Yes I did, I said I’m a bit tired.” His eyes widen slightly, “You’re right! My bad. I can show you the way to the bedroom, if you want to sleep. I don’t have a proper couch yet but I think the old one”, he looks through the open door at an extremely damaged couch, “will do for me”. He can’t be serious. “No! I can sleep on the couch! I barged in and woke you up, so I’ll sleep there. Don’t even try to be a gentleman!” He musters me and starts to speak, “You didn’t even barge in. And how did you know that I was already sleeping!?” I point to his hair and shrug, “I don’t know, I just… your hair kind of told me.” He nods and pushes himself off the counter, “Do you want some other pants? Or are yours comfortable? I’m guessing you want to keep the hoodie on? It’s really cold in here. I can show you the bathroom right now.” He rambles. I stand up, “No, I don’t need any other pants, I just need a blanket, Yes I’m gonna keep it on if it’s okay and yes please, show me the bathroom.”

It’s quiet. My legs hang uncomfortably of the couch and my face feels frozen. I try to nuzzle it deeper into the pillow, unsuccessful. My mind goes wild. The living room didn’t seem so intimidating earlier and the unpacked boxes, who are towering above me, are for sure not helping. I turn around, the already warm spot under the blanket disappears and I stare at the couch, the room now behind me. My mind goes even wilder. What if somebody, no something, wants to take me to its secret cave under the ground!? The cold air tickles my neck and sends goosebumps all over my spine. I bolt up, I have to get up again in approximately 6 hours, a little bit of sleep would be nice, but I won’t get any of that If I stay here. Wrapped up in Chan’s huge blanket, I slur to the bedroom. The door creaks open before I can even get a hold of the doorknob. Chan stands in the Doorframe, his eyes widen. “I wanted to check up on you”, he quietly says, “You said you were afraid of the dark. I was worried, but uh what brought you here?” I honestly have no idea what my plan was, “You’re right, I was afraid, I don’t know why I came to your bedroom though.” “You can sleep in my bed, it’s definitely big enough for two. I mean, as long as it’s not making you uncomfortable”, Chan mumbles. I hesitate for a second but the thought of being alone makes me sprint past Chan. I let myself fall on the soft mattress, careful not to break the whole bed. I lock eyes with the dimpled boy and he chuckles while closing the door. Chan swiftly slides under his thin blanket, which he inevitably had to use, since he gave me the thick one. I can hear him shuffle, wow I’m really shitty, am I? I sleep in a man’s bed, who moved here like 2 weeks ago and I’m taking his hoodie AND his blanket. “Chan?” He lets out a hum. “I’m sorry for wearing your hoodie and using your blanket. You said you’d have a proper second one but wow that’s more like a towel! The blanket is huge, do you maybe… want to share it?”, I shyly propose. Just like me earlier, he doesn’t think twice and joins me under the blanket. “I hope I’m not making you feel uncomfortable.” “I asked you to share the blanket.” I turn around, careful not to pull the blanket of Chan. We lie back to back. Chan’s breath is steady, but not as if he was sleeping. I don’t wanna break the silence, but I just have to. “Chan. Why doesn’t glue stick to the bottle?” I swear I can hear him curse, “I don’t know (Y/N), I’m guessing the bottle has a resisting layer or it’s made out of a special material. Maybe glue needs to come in contact with the air ”, he sighs. “Hmm, I guess you’re right”, I answer. “Cool.” “Cool.” I’m trying to resist the urge to move further to Chan, I just need some bodyheat!! I don’t want to annoy him more than I already did, but my thoughts and the coldness are keeping me wide awake. “Chan, I can’t sleep. I don’t want this to be awkward, but I haven’t slept in the same bed with somebody since… never mind, I’m sorry for not letting you sleep”. Chan shifts under the blanket, now looking at my back, I follow him. I look at his shimmering eyes and I suddenly feel lonely. “Since when?”, he quietly asks. “Since my boyfriend left me. It’s ok tho, I’m over him, I just… miss certain things”, it’s true. ”Wanna talk about it?”, do I? I turn on my back and stare at the ceiling. “He was a good boyfriend, we just couldn’t understand each other. The things he said and did, are till this day a mystery to me. He probably thinks the same about me. We wanted to end it on good terms, but there were already too many misunderstandings standing between us, we fought a lot on our way to the breakup. I don’t regret it though! I just miss having fun with him, we shared the same humour and he always tried to show me that he cared about my well being. He made me feel less alone. I don’t know, Chan.” It feels burdensome to tell him about my past relationship, but a part of me feels relieved. “I-, do you want a hug? I don’t know how to comfort people who feel lonely, but maybe-”, before he can finish his sentence, I lift the blanket a tiny bit, just enough to let myself dive into Chan’s embrace. “Yes. Yes I do want a hug”, I mumble into his shoulder, his arms slowly find their way around me, so slow, that I almost back off again. His fingertips timidly caress my back with little drawings. We stay still, the only audible noises are our breaths. I let my arms slip out from between our chests and pull the blanket further up against his chin. He curiously perks a brow at me, “Well, I am the one wearing a hoodie and the seals are worthless”, he snickers, “Thank you for sharing your body heat with me Y/N”. I open my mouth to give him a witty response, but nothing comes out, the darkness hiding my blushing face. 

My breath eventually calms down, Chan stopped drawing little patterns on my arm already minutes ago. My mind feels drowsy and I’m slowly making my way into the land of dreams. Chan’s whisper enters my mind one last time, before I finally doze off,

“Maybe it wasn’t that bad. I mean the power cut.” 

(Please keep in mind that English is not my first language. Feedback is highly appreciated, thank you for reading  :)

[acabloe]

Soon Goodbye, Now Love: chapter six

new ppl who r just seeing this it’s a guardian angel A/U

find all the parts here ☟

Ao3   ff.net

tw’s: swearing, mentions of depression and anxiety, loss of memory

still based on this song lol

here is the moodboard for ambience purposes if you’re that kind of kid

a/n: its been very long yada yada please just tell me if you want the next chapter because im stuck in au land, if you would prefer a Jane Austin au literally ill drop everything 

once the lights go out

Higher City, Angel Habitat/Complex - 2:45 AM

Half an hour post-transportation and five hours after Chloe’s accident.

Beca stumbled on her footing as she grasped around the edge of the doorframe, looking for a switch or a pull to shed light into the pitch-black space that expanded beyond the doors of her residence for the next who-knew-how-long.

Her neck whined in an aggravating crick from sitting hunched over Chloe’s bedside for so long and her mind was mushed from the weight of stress, overtiredness, excessive adrenaline usage and above all else, of course--grief. The only thing keeping her from collapsing on the ground in the doorway of this small concrete hallway and weeping herself to sleep was the sentence she continued to recite to herself repetitively under her breath: “Chloe’s alive, everyone’s safe, you’ll be okay.”

She far from even entertained the possibility that the last part was rest assured, but the act of mouthing it repetitively had a numbing effect on her currently fragile mental stamina.

After fumbling for a few seconds, she huffed in exasperation and gave up trying to find a switch. Sleep was the only thing she had the brains to carry out. Deliberation over everything else that had transpired in the past four hours would be performed when her brain was a just little further away from falling apart.

The man at the front desk of the grey building had given her a small but heavy and lumpy grey drawstring rucksack before dropping her off alone in the dingy hall of her new quarters. She set it down by her feet now, using it to prop open the thick black door to let as much light into the room as possible.

Hands outstretched, she shuffled inside and waited until her eyes adapted to the murky black interior. It took a few seconds but eventually the slight outlines of shapes faded into view and she finally spotted what she assumed was a thin standing-lamp in the corner. She stepped blindly towards it and jumped backwards a little when it suddenly flickered on, sensing her hand in the air a few inches before it.

The space was little more than a closet. Beca had little mind to care, too exhausted to be grumpy. Besides, it was pretty comfortable considering her own size. The walls and ceiling were simply white-washed cement and there was a foot by foot square to serve as a window at the farthest wall from the door, though it had little to no effect at this time of the night. She wondered briefly about the concept of daylight here and if there even was sun or moonlight. The sparse furniture was a bed, an old wooden sea-trunk, and a tiny porcelain sink in the corner. Beca placed her rucksack in the trunk and sank onto the stiff but not wholly uncomfortable pallet, lacking any sufficient drive in her to take anything off, including her shoes, or even get under the soft linen sheets. Her eyes fell shut and the relief of deep sleep ebbed impending in her mind’s eye.

Yet her head pounded and her heart still fluttered at a sickening pace under her ribs. She found it increasingly difficult to keep her eyes closed; the image of Chloe, pale and fragile in such a battered state after the accident, had etched itself clearly behind her eyelids. Her breathing was difficult to regulate (she was unsure if this was due to her thinking so deeply on the act of regulating it, or an actual physical anxious reaction) and the room was uncomfortably cold.

She brought her knees to her chest and hugged them tightly. Everything was gone. Everything she and those she loved had worked so hard to build from so little was over and erased without trace. She had trudged heavily from wholly miserable to the happiest she had ever been without ease and certainly not in good time. All of that happiness. Up and gone like passing something eye-catching for its possible beauty in the sand on the beach, but upon running back to find it, its existence is nothing more than imagined.

A distinct memory faded into view. It was more of a moving image (a gif, so to speak) than a memory, but she could hear distant and muffled voices as if she were standing outside the door of a closed cinema to a movie she wasn’t familiar with.

The image was of her and Chloe in their late teens resting under a filter of broken apricot sunset through a canopy of birch leaves shimmering above their heads. Chloe’s head rested on Beca’s shoulder as she ripped up the grass beneath her, spreading it over Beca’s legs like dirty confetti.

She didn’t remember the scene as such. She only knew that it felt real. And that it ached her chest and throat and burned her eyes with the threat of tears.

Now she could no longer withhold the prickling tears and shuddering sobs and resolved that if tiring herself out would be the only route she would be able to take towards a somewhat restful night, she would charge down its’ course at a thousand miles per hour, foot stomped on the gas pedal.

She stretched and bided in the memory as deeply as she could.

Her sobs reverberated softly in the small stone room.

Underneath this, a soft irregular ticking noise sounded from above and outside her window. She ignored it. As it got louder she recognized it to be rain, heavy and sheeted. This prodded her curiosity just enough; still shaking, she stood from the bed and wobbled over to the hand-sized window. Sure enough, though it was dark outside, blue light from a nearby pathway lamp lit up tiny cascading waterfalls down the thick pane.

“How fucking ironic,” she whispered.

-

Chloe called in sick the next day to work. She wasn’t positive why, she simply knew that the exasperation of her most mundane course of existence would eventually wear whatever mere being she had left into the shell of a personality akin to that of a tired old cat.

The events of the past two days had stirred in her a sort of awakening for what it felt like to experience happenstances outside of her citadel of repetitive routine and emotional hibernation. Though it was not the most merry or enjoyable topics to mull over, she found herself wrapped in reflection often and began finding a need to force herself not to dwell on it so much as not to overthink to the point of obsession.

The urge to constantly check in on her odd rescue-project was difficult to quash but necessary. Chloe reminded herself that her relationship was barely visible with this human being--all she had done was let her stay the night and drive her into the city. They had barely even conversed. Still, the event had shaken her, and she had little else to think about. She convinced herself to only inquire into Beca’s situation in two days time when she was sure Beca had become a little more settled. She was confident that Flo was good hands and that she would care for her guest appropriately, especially since now she would be living above the cafe.

Except that Chloe found a bracelet resting on the coffee table by her couch that wasn’t hers. So she kind of had to go back to the cafe. Kind of.

-

It had taken the entire remainder of the day and most of the next to finally situate Beca into a somewhat habitable situation. After Chloe had left, Flo closed up early and she and her new employee spent several hours behind the counter and in the bakery as she showed her the ropes. Beca was happy to see how surprised and pleased Flo was at Beca’s natural agility and skill around the oven and the baked goods. Flo easily taught her to bake the four most popular pastries, specific to her family’s recipes, and how to make four of the simplest drinks on the menu to start out, as well as her way around the cash register. As the day came to a close, they left the cafe to rush their way through several more monotonous but still critical errands like setting up both a bank account and a small, temporary mobile phone. They stopped at Flo’s apartment a few doors down from the cafe before calling it a night and Flo piled Beca’s arms with enough food to last for a week or so. The following morning, Beca set out on her own to blunder her way through a T.J.Maxx and a shopping center to find some clothes that were--well, some clothes. Once she returned to the cafe they worked a little past 6:00 which came oddly fast (her orientation of time and its passing were still muddled and the work at Flo’s came naturally to her.)

Succeeding the whirlwind of toil they had conducted over the past two days, Flo expeditiously suggested that a trip downtown was in order and after twenty minutes of walking briskly through the chill of the celebratory evening, the pair dropped into two rotating stools in a colorfully-lit bar home to some very happy and boisterous company. It had been so long since Beca had had any alcohol, so she ordered the most obnoxious drink on the menu and four jello shots to split between them.

“So, first real day back! How are you feeling?”

Beca sipped her syrupy cocktail and grimaced at the unaccustomed flavor of alcohol.  

“I don’t know. Everything’s kinda’ blurry right now, but my brain is sort of slacking off a little in the staying-awake-during-the-regular-daytime department. The time difference is so much more insane than when you swap from different time zones on earth ‘cause there are an extra four hours of daytime and an extra two of night. There aren’t sunsets either, the sky just goes black for a while which is actually really depressing.”

“Wait, so, do you have, like, powers or anything? Can you fly? You don’t have a halo, right?” Beca again decided to refrain from divulging her distressing ordeal concerning her glowing appendages. She had blissfully forgotten about that situation until Flo had mentioned powers, which threw her in a temporary whirlpool of apprehensive unease.

“Not really, and no, I can’t fly. I mean, I can kinda’ tell when something is wrong with whoever I’m guarding, and I can slow down time by a couple of seconds, but that takes so much energy and I can only use it in emergencies. And you know about bringing the memories back, but that’s only if the memories have been taken away by heaven. They mostly spent time training us how to deal with any situation; so like, CPR, difficult-situation negotiation tactics, advanced martial arts and stuff.”

“Oh. That is boring.”

“Yeah, kind of.” Beca sipped her drink again which was less foul the second round, but still jarring.

“So how does this-” She gesticulated vaguely at Beca’s body which she understood as metaphorical- “work anyways?”

“Oh, well after you die, you can request to be a guardian and they put you through this huge crash course for protecting a human. After training you’re assigned one person to guard on earth for their whole life, starting whenever heaven thinks that person needs the most guidance. Sometimes that means bumping into them and becoming best friends with them or marrying and growing old with them. Sometimes you never even meet them in person, just help them from afar. You do what heaven dictates is best for them, so no complicated attachments. When they die, your memory is replaced in the mind of everyone you’ve ever met as someone else, so no one will recognize you when you go back to earth and you get sent back to heaven and reverted to the age you died to start with another assignment. You can never, um, retire or whatever, and apparently you can only stop once you’ve worn out your brain. And then they, you, know, cease you ‘cause you’re no good to them anymore.”

“Shit.” Flo had sat through staring at the dark brick wall behind the bar with a blank expression enunciating her contemplation of what Beca had revealed.

“‘Shit’ is right. I guess it sounds kind of cool when I describe it, but when I thought I was actually going to have to do it for, like, thousands of years, I was really fuckin’ bummed, dude.”

“Understandable. But you hacked the heaven system, how does that work?”

“Yeah, hacked, or something. I don’t even know if they’ll be able to tell. They’re supposed to be able to connect with their angels but I severed that attachment when I changed my assignment. I think they-” Flo brought Beca’s expatiations to an abrupt halt, holding up her palm to signify silence and raising her phone to her ear, an apologetic glance tossed in Beca’ direction.

“Chloe! Hi! What’s up?” Speak of the devil. Beca squirmed a little on her stool at the sound of Chloe’s voice on the other end. She couldn’t quite make out what she was saying, but she didn’t sound particularly troubled. Even so...

“Oh, okay. We’re at a bar downtown right now…uh huh. Yeah, she is all settled, we finished a few hours ago.”

Flo removed her phone from her ear and hid it under her chin to bring her attention to Beca. “She says she has a bracelet of yours?”

“Oh, um. I guess? I don’t really remember having one but-”

“She says it is not hers.”

“No, Flo, I said it might be.”

“Okay...it is hers. You can drop it off at the café. Anything else?”

Beca seized Flo’s phone from her grasp. “Will you give us a sec’ Chloe?” She placed it on mute.

“Hey! What?!” Flo scrambled and stretched, trying desperately to reclaim her confused friend on the other end of the line, but Beca held it out of her reach, exasperated.

“Flo, why are you being like this?!”

Flo sighed heavily off of an exaggerated voiced inhale and rested her hands on Beca’s arm. Beca grew uncomfortable with the sudden sincerity in her voice.

“Okay, listen. Beca, I know you did not come back for the Bellas. I know you just came back for Chloe. I think you really need some time to adjust on earth before you do anything rash. I don’t think you should be getting too close to her and I think that you are idealizing your situation. Por el amor de Dios, Chloe doesn’t even know who you are! You need to slow your ass down, girl! We have the Bella reunion soon. You can wait that long at least.”

Beca chewed on her lip thoughtfully. This was the first vocal confirmation of what she had been refraining from thinking over fully past the whispered voice of reason behind a closet door barely ajar in the very recesses of her mind. For the thousandth time that day she swallowed the reflection of how careless and hasty her actions had been.

Beca had never dwelled so long and hard over someone or something as she had over Chloe whilst in heaven. Only her mother’s death came as remotely close a subject to how ruthlessly Beca obsessed (Obsess - used very much in the dictionary sense; not lightly. See also; beset, consume, haunt, etc.) over Chloe and her accident. Considering this, a complete and detailed plan would definitely make sense in this context; however, obsession to this point considers little factual influence in a non-idealized, material world. Hence, Beca’s rash behavior and her reactions to Chloe in palpable physical situations.

“Okay... maybe you’re right. I guess I was really weighing everything on Chloe liking me for me, and not all the stuff we shared in the past, you know? Sorry about not saying anything about it, and I really am so happy to see you. I love you so much. All of you. Please don’t think I didn’t come back for you guys. You mean everything to me, we’re family. I just, you know... Please schedule the reunion soon?”

“Yes. Fine, I will.” Beca slowly retracted her arm and placed the phone in Flo’s expectant (but now softened and more sympathetic) outstretched palm. She unmuted the call.

“Hi, Chloe, sorry about that, drunk asshole was bothering us. You can bring the bracelet to the reunion. By the way, do we have some dates for that yet? Aubrey should be here this month, right? Yes. No, uh-huh. Okay great, perfect, text the group-chat about it? Okay, bye!” She hung up and grinned at Beca. “Two weeks, as long as everyone is free!”

“Ugh, dude what am I gonna’ do in the meantime?”

“Well, I know that you only came back for-,” Beca threw her a glare and Flo surrendered, hands in the air. “Sorry, right, a couple reasons, and it is all you have got your heart set on, but you need to take a few steps back. I have to say Beca, you really didn’t plan this very well. You need to establish a solid base here because this is your life now. You may be an angel, but if you think about it, I am, like, definitely a saint for doing all this for you.”

Beca flipped her off and returned to wincing down the copious amounts of fluid she had spent an annoying amount of cash on.

“For real though, you’re right. And I really... appreciate everything you’re doing for me Flo, it means a lot.” Flo smiled and nodded.

-

Perhaps if Chloe hadn’t felt so out of place, she would have asked Flo to let her join the girls at the bar. But for some reason, something about the phone call and the whole situation whispered a sense of exclusion -- well intentioned or not, she couldn’t tell. She hadn’t felt this socially anxious in a while. Her mental health was not even anything she had thought about in depth for a few years and she had long ago passively accepted the concept that with age came dampened emotions, and that such was a perfectly natural sequence. If nothing would ever give her real pleasure again, so be it.

Another walk. Another achingly familiar song. Another foot in front of the other. Another fifteen minutes later and she stood in front of a deep, deep dark pond, rocky banks powdered with grey-blue frost. The water reflected with the perfection of a mirror the nothingness of the ashy sky.

Chloe now stared into this nothingness -- the sort of staring where everything at once is what those who are staring can see, but they aren’t looking, just seeing and thinking. She stood, leaning slightly in a gentle trance as she remembered the time she had dived into this same water. She had choked and snorted through her nose as she had come up for air and swallowed some accidentally. A friend on the bank had been slumped over in hysterics at her fruitless efforts to cease wheezing and laughing and coughing and yelling at her friend to stop. In her mind she imagined that it was Beca who sat beside the water giggling at her. Stupid and weird that you’d think of her, she thought, but she couldn’t properly remember who it had really been, and the image of Beca fit comfortably well in the situation.

She closed her eyes and settled deeper into the memory, in place but outside of time. In vein, she tried to remember who had actually been there to witness the moment. She couldn’t even remember when it had happened. This was not a memory she had thought about in...well, truthfully, she had completely forgotten about it since it had happened. The age of the memory prevented her from remembering details. Only present, was the sweet feeling of the moment, a honey-like residue, resting delicately in her conscious.

She was now fully trying to convince herself, however, that Beca had not been there. She finally shook her head as if to dislodge the memory and sharply inhaled cold air, opening her eyes to see, hunched over on the side of the banks with chin rested on knees, none other than the subject of her specious nostalgia. Chloe blinked several times and recognized the figure to be but a log, dark and rubbed to clump from weather and wear. Now freaking herself out she rose swiftly and promptly speed walked for her home, holding herself firmly from looking around for fear of misreading another inanimate object.

She wasn’t there, obviously she wasn’t there. Just someone who reminds me of her, or looks like her. Obviously.

[imjadebeom]

A Love to Kill Pt. 1/?

Title: A Love to Kill (courtesy of @jj-nyoung) Author: Me, imjadebeom Pairing: Jaebum x Reader Genre: Horror (Vampire AU) Word Count: About 1.6k words Warning: Some blood and stuff??? Not sure if it will ever get sexually explicit but I will keep you posted with a warning for each chapter. Summary: You have been severely injured and rescued by a beautiful man. You cannot remember anything prior to the accident. Will you be able to remember your past before it’s too late? Part: (1), 2, 3, 4, 5

Moodboard is mine and you can find that here (it was also this inspo for this story)

You wake up in a pitch black room. It smells musty, your head is pounding. “Where am I…,”  you thought. Your brain starts searching for anything that could shed some light as to how you got here. It almost feels as if someone dropped a pile of papers inside your mind. Just tiny bits of memory that your mind is struggling to piece together. You touch your head to feel a bandage and a sharp pain. How did this happen?

You’re quickly snapped out of your internalized distress when you hear the click of a lock and light shines brightly into the room. Your retinas burn as the scorching bright light pierces the darkness of the room you’re sitting in. Eyes adjusting slowly, he appears in front of you. He was quite literally the physical definition of “tall, dark and handsome”. His cologne hits you and he smells so sweet. It’s almost enough to lure you in until your brain starts sending out signals of distress. Heart racing, beads of sweat forming, goosebumps raised on your arm, adrenaline rushing. Who is this man?

His voice breaks the deafening silence. “How are you feeling?” His voice was smooth like honey, there were no breaks. He was confident and intimidating. His eyes had this piercing look that could intimidate the most terrifying of beasts. You tried to ask him where you were but all that came out were these tiny squeaks. There was a lump in your throat and no matter how hard you tried, it kept your voice trapped inside you with no way of escape.

“Are you going to answer me or are you going to continue to sit on the floor, squeaking at me?” His eyes got darker and his voice got louder. His tone was raucous and you flinched as he spat his words at you in distaste. Every syllable felt like a swift jab to your gut.

“Who are you?” Your voice was small and you did not dare to make direct eye contact. You felt as small as you sounded and wished more than anything in the world that he would avert his glare somewhere else.

“My name is Im Jaebum. You were hiking out in the woods and you slipped. You hit your head on a rock pretty hard. My house was nearby so I brought you here” His words rang in your ears. Hiking? Slipped? Even though you couldn’t recall a single memory, not even your own name, this didn’t sound right. However, with your memory gone, who were you to tell him he was wrong? “Come with me, we need to find you somewhere warm to stay.” Was this wishful thinking or did his tone feel warm and his eyes inviting? You would take anything over the angered response you received a moment ago. You follow him out of the room into a brightly lit hallway. The adrenaline was the only thing carrying you forward.

This house was really top of the line. Everything inside looked like it cost a fortune. He turns around to see your baffled expression and he lets out a small laugh. “Are you always this dumbfounded or is this your first time seeing a house?” You could tell he was joking but he had a rude sense of sarcasm that seemed to rub you the wrong way.

“I’m just wondering how someone your age was able to afford such an expensive interior design,” you said with a bit of poison in your tone. He hardly flinched at your retort and turned around to continue walking. What were you thinking? You can’t just speak to a stranger in that tone. Especially when they are the person who saved you from dying in the woods.

You stop at a long spiral staircase. “Your room will be upstairs. Do you think you can climb up?” You looked up hesitantly at the staircase, which, appeared endless as your head was already starting to swim. Now that you’ve gotten a grip on yourself, the adrenaline was starting to leave your system and your body was aching terribly. You felt an intense throbbing pain in your temples and ankle. The exhaustion instantly took over. As you came down from the adrenaline high, your vision starts to fade. You see the mildly horrified expression on his face as you collapsed onto the floor. You felt the intense pain and cried out. Your vision cuts in and out as Jaebum quickly comes to your side, his voice echoing loudly in your ears. The last thing you see is a small puddle of your blood on the floor before it all fades to black.

You jolted forward out of your bed as you felt a horrible searing pain in your head. You had a dream that gave you this feeling that you were trying so hard to remember something. It all ended so quickly that you can’t remember the dream or what you wanted so badly to remember.  You look over to you right as you hear trickling water. All you see is Jaebum sitting there with a bowl of water, a washcloth, some bandages, and antiseptics. “Good morning,” he says a little too monotonously. “We have to clean you up a bit” He moves towards you so that he can remove the soiled bandage from your head and he is struck with a very serious expression that sends prickles down your back. Creepy. However, as soon as his expression arrived, it was gone and he reaches to your head will the cool washcloth. He starts to treat your injury carefully, eyeing you through the entire process.

You were closer to him than you had ever been and your heart was racing. This time, it wasn’t fear. He was kind of cute. Well, cute didn’t even begin to describe Jaebum. In the light, he was beautiful. Not a flaw on his face as if he had been sculpted by Michelangelo himself. You look into his eyes which were soft, warm and inviting. He had two tiny freckles on his left eyelid. The only mark on an otherwise perfect canvas. His hair was inky black, parted to the side with just a tiny bit of wave to indicate a natural (yet polished) bed head. He smelled amazing. His scent was sweet and was unlike anything you’d ever smelled before. Almost like it was a cologne made just for him (although, with as much money as he appeared to have, you never know). His smile was beautiful with soft, delicate lips framing it. You couldn’t stop staring at him.

“Hello? Anyone there?” You break your stare and realize he’s speaking to you. “Sorry to disturb your daydream but are you okay in there? Do you need some painkillers?” He looked genuinely worried. This side of Jaebum was extremely different from your first impression of him.

“Yes, the pain is a bit much.” You mumbled, averting your eyes.

“Stay right here and I’ll be back. Hold this cloth to your head but don’t apply too much pressure” Your hands touch as he puts the cold cloth in your hand but you flinch from the site of the blood on the washcloth and from the chill of his hands. You shut your eyes and put the cloth to your head as he exits the room.

A few minutes pass and Jaebum still wasn’t back. After waiting around a bit longer, the cloth became blood soaked. In a panic, you get up to go find him but collapse on the floor. You let out a shriek as your ankle shot pain up and into your leg. Jaebum rushes back into the room to find you on the floor. “I told you not to move, didn’t I? How hard is it to just listen to simple instruction?” This was the man you were first acquainted with. Gruff, rude and condescending. You notice some blood on his cheek and reach for his face. He slaps your hand away quickly and your hand stings from the slap. “What are you doing? Don’t touch me” His words like a dagger.

“You just had some blood on your face…” You felt queasy looking at it but, you couldn’t help but stare. Was that your blood? When did it get on his cheek? How did it get on his cheek? You swear it wasn’t there when he left the room earlier.

He picks you up roughly and put you back into bed, wrapping and bandaging your head up without uttering a single word. The warm Jaebum was gone and in his place was a very rude, cold husk. As he was finishing up, your head starts to feel like it’s splitting. You start to remember. Before it ends, all you see is someone bashing you over the head. You quickly flinch away from Jaebum with a horrified look on your face.

“What do you remember?” His expression goes back to threatening and your adrenaline rushes again. You try to get away from him but he’s too quick. He has your arms and he’s on top of you, pinning you down. You can’t move a muscle. He’s unbelievably strong. “It’s not what you think. Your memories aren’t what you think. This isn’t how it seems”. He looks feral. His neatly parted bangs are now shadowing his eyes which are glaring at you. You’re more terrified than ever. You feel panicked as you realize this is it. You’ve been kidnapped and this is how you die. You close your eyes and wait for the end.

[littlebitoffanfic]

Needed

Fandom: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles Characters: Donnie Relationship: Donnie/reader Request: Do you still take requests? If you do can you do 1, where Donnie is frustetated and when Reader tries to comfort him, he snaps at her, they get into an argument that makes Reader really depressed, but at the end make it really fluffy? It doesn't matter if it is 2012 or 2014 tmnt :) Thank you! “Donnie, it was just an argument.” You tried to calm him down as he paced angrily in your flat. He had come to yours in a foul mood thanks to an argument with his brothers. He hadn’t actually told you what it was about but he had spent the whole night complaining about what was wrong with them. From what you could gather, they hadnt listened when he said there might be a fault with something he made and it had malfunctioned and that had lead to a massive blow out between all 4 of them so no one was speaking now. You knew this because you has seen blue, red and orange masks glance in the window and then leave after seeing Donnie had beat them here. You also knew from his ranting that Raph had said he wasn’t needed that much. You knew it was a heat of the moment thing and Donnie had to know that too. He was always working on things to improve their life’s and they wouldn’t be anywhere without him. “No, I am fed up of this.” He half growled as he twisted once again on the spot. You knew he was upset but it had been 4 hours since he had first arrived and you were getting a little annoyed with his mood. Normally, he would stay angry for an hour or so and then cool down a little and the two of you would watch a movie till he thought he could go home. But he had been snappy with you since he had got here and you didn’t like it. “Im sure its nothing.” You stood up from the couch and were about to go over to him when he turned sharply to you, his eyes on fire. “Don’t say its nothing, [y/n]. God, you have no idea what its like. Its not like your needed.” He snarled, his anger and words stopping you in your tracks. For a moment, you stood there and stared at him with wide eyes. You couldn’t quite believe what he had just said to you. You had always been close friends and you were the first he came to in any situation. Your heart broke in two as you stared at him, the words sinking in. You had always had deep feeling for him and maybe that was what hurt the most. You never thought he would ever be like this with you. He was always so sweet and kind to you that it was alien to hear such nasty words fall from his lips. Tears began to fill your eyes as you saw Donnies whole body seem to tense up at the sight of the tears. “Get out.” You growled, crossing your arms across your chest. You were filled with a mixture of sadness and anger. “[y/n], i-“ Donnie took a step forward, his eyes filled with guilt and fear as he reached out to you but you pulled back. “Get out!” You screamed, pointing to the window with a shaking hand. Donnie glanced between you and the window as if you were condemning him to his death. But you didn’t care. “I didn’t mean-“ Donnie took a step closer to you but you stepped back. “Leave. And don’t come back.” Your voice was low and dangerous. Your words took him by surprise as he jumped a little. You didn’t give him time to respond as you turned on your heel and darted into your bedroom, slamming the door. -------timeskip------------------- You spent most of the night crying into your pillow. Anyone else and you probably could have just brushed it off but it was Donnie. You loved him, respected him and he treats you like that. In the morning, you opened your bedroom door cautiously. He wasn’t there but judging by the pillows and blanket on your sofa, he had stayed the night but would have had to leave before dawn. You noticed a piece of paper sitting on your table and picked it up, instantly recognizing Donnies hand writing. “[y/n], please call me today. I need to speak to you. Im sorry. -Donatello.” You could see his hand had been shaking and there was tear stains on the paper but you didn’t care as you crumpled up the page and dumped it in the bin. You werent getting spoken to like that by anyone. --------------time skip -------------------- It had been three weeks since that night. Every day was worse than the one before. You had not gone more than 2 days without speaking to Donnie before and now you had nothing. He kept trying to call you and text you but you ignored both and turning off your phone. He had tried coming to yours a few times but you locked the window. Donnie knew better than to try and pick the lock but you heard him trying to open the window. You went to work as normal but they noticed the dark bags under your eyes. You hadnt had a proper night sleep in weeks and it was starting to affect you badly. Tonight, you sat on your sofa with your knees pulled up to your chest. With every passing day, the fear that his words were right cracked your confidence little by little. A fresh set of tears welled in your eyes as you tried to blink back the tears with no success. The TV was on in the background but you weren’t paying attentions. It was now 10pm which meant it was pitch black outside. The weather had been terrible today and hadn’t improved. It was lashing down with rain and the wind could easily be heard. You knew no one would travel out in this weather, especially Donnie who often had tech on him so you kept your curtain open to watched the rain fall. You moved forward, placing both your feet on the floor and sobbing into the palms of your hands. Your body shook as you sobbed, feeling your breathing becoming erratic. “[y/n]?” A muffled voice made you jump to your feet and stare at the window where there was now a familiar face. Donnie. You could see he was struggling to hold himself up on the ledge due to the weather. He was soaked to the bone and you could see him shivering. You cursed yourself for not closing the curtain. You couldn’t bring yourself to let him in after what he had said and you knew he wouldn’t leave if you stayed in the living room, so you started to walk to the bedroom. You heard a creak of your window and remembered your hadn’t locked your window from earlier when you had it open for fresh air. You darted inside your room and slammed the door before he could catch you. But almost the second you closed the door, you heard him banging on the door which you held closed. “[y/n], please, come out?” Donnie begged, his voice was horse but filled with a desperate tone. “go away.” You didn’t mean for your voice to sound desperate and weak but thanks to the crying from earlier and the fresh tears now didn’t help. “don’t cry.” He whimpered, trying to open the door but you held it shut. “Please, I need to speak to you!” He rattled the door, sounding desperate but you didn’t budge. “No, now go!” You cried out, falling to the floor with your back pressed against the door to keep it closed. “Please, I NEED you.” Donnie stressed the word ‘need’ which made you let out a laugh. “Yeah, you made that clear 3 weeks ago!” You snarled through the door, your cheeks nipping with the tears. “No, I do. [y/n], I need you. Please. Im so sorry. I didn’t mean it. I-I know your hurt. When I said what I said, I didn’t mean it. I was stressed because I always have to be perfect and you make it look so easy. Because to me, you are. I swear I didn’t mean to hurt you. I would never want that. These last weeks have been hell, [y/n]. Please, I need you. I need you more than anything. Im sorry.” Donnie then broke down into sobs outside your bedroom door. You stared in front of you. He needed you. And Donnie was a horrendous liar. You had always been able to tell when he was lying or when he wasn’t being truthful with you. But you couldn’t find that in his voice. He sounded genuinely desperate for you to come out. You spent most of these weeks in your own mind. It had wounded you more than you let on but judging by his actions, it hurt him too. You pushed yourself up and you were about to open the door when he said one more thing. “Please, I love you.” He sobbed like a broken man. You froze. He loved you. Donatello loved you. Opening the door, you didn’t realize Donnie was leaning against it while on his knees. He fell forward, landing at your feet. You jumped as he pushed himself up back to his knees but not getting up any further. Instead, you dropped to your knees in front of you. He stared at you, a desperate need obvious in his eyes as you looked at you lap. “Did you mean what you said? About you loving me?” You asked, not looking at him. “Yeah, I always have. [y/n], im so sorry. I was just angry and I shouldn’t have taken it out on you like that. It’ll never happen again.” He reached forward, taking your hands in his larger ones. You glanced at him, seeing his tear-stained cheeks, his bright red eyes, the dark circles that seemed to match yours. His hands shook and he was taking long breaths to try and calm himself. “I-I-“ You trailed off, looking at his hands as you tried to find the words. “I understand if you’re still hurt and upset.” He mumbled and you felt his hand shake more. But that wasn’t what you were trying to say. “I love you, too.” You looked up and into his eyes for the first time in 3 weeks. Donnies mouth fell open and he let out a small sound. He took a deep breath. “Really?” He breathed, moving closer to you as he spoke as if he could believe his ears. You opened your mouth to speak but you could so you nodded. Donnie let out a airy laugh but before you could say anything, he leaned forward and pressed his lips to yours. You froze for a moment, unable to think straight but then you begin to kiss back. You wrapped your arms around his neck and he reached forward. He wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you onto his lap, holding you close. You moaned a little into the kiss, feeling his heart beating hard against his chest. You pulled away, breathing heavily as you leaned your forehead against his. “I’ll make it up to you.” He whispered, holding you close. You smiled, closing your eyes. Donnie spent the night with you, whispering sweet nothings in your ears but most of all, he told you how much he needed you.