#gotta stock up on groceries again.

[c0smicdusk]

Our town has been out of water for a few days and now its looking like we wont be getting it back for another week. Which means we're not going back to work either.

Shaking my little tin can spare change? Spare change for art?

[moeblob]

having a stressful time at work but i think it's very important to point out the other day i was asking a guy for help and he's like aight gotcha and then we go to this freezer room and he, from somewhere beyond a mound of boxes, just goes "you like anime right?"

sir this is the FIRST TIME we have spoken how did you clock that.

(he claims i had the vibes of someone who liked it then i was like oh like the woman in the deli wearing a jujutsu- and before i can finish the series name he says "no not her, she just liked the shirt. she's never watched anime". . . oh. i see. you have already had this debate with her then. okay.)

EDIT UPDATE:

So I got clocked AGAIN as a weeb by a coworker because I saw part of her outfit and was like "oh, Attack on Titan?" and while I then said I've never watched it she said that's fair then "do you know anything about vtubers?" and I just. Are you kidding me. I mean yeah but like. Why is your safe question with me "do you know about vtubers".

WHAT AURA DO I BRING TO A GROCERY STORE TO BE CALLED OUT LIKE THIS?

[ordinarydoodles]

Just so you know, i am stalking you on every DCA fandom content.

I always open up the comment and be like: "Wonder if the pineapple with the same hyperfixacion is here today?"

And when you are:

"There they are <3"

Stooop, you're making me blush <3

[two-calicos-in-a-trenchcoat]

Ooooookay so not sure im gonna keep going to walmart to get my groceries unless absolutely necessary cuz the one closest to my house is awful

Its fucking massive. The app tells you the wrong aisles for everything. And there were way too many fucking people. Not a fan.

[feralforfrank]

simon riley x fem!reader

simon gets hit by an umbrella like three times, sorry for not knowing proper british and scottish slang, i'm greek and trying my best 👍🏻 implied age gap (reader is in uni)

holidays in Edinburgh, part 1/?

the 141 is home for the holidays. home being all over the uk, with gaz and price spending their time somwhere in the country with their partners and simon accompanying johnny and his partner in Edinburgh. johnny insisted he come along, Edinburgh is full of bonnie birds, you never know, you might meet your match, lt.

you're miserable. spending yet another holiday in a foreign country, isolated in your flat with only your cat, warm tea, and a book to pass the time. you couldn't go back home due to finals starting soon, and your parents decided to spend Christmas in warm weather down under (Australia).

it's not half as bad, you try to convince yourself. your flat is quiet, as are the neighboring ones and the building in general. your bedroom window overlooks a busy street, and you envy those who flood them with shopping bags and smiles. you haven't made that many friends, and the ones you have are already visiting their hometowns. the upside is that you're in a warm, comfortable space while others are freezing their pinkies off.

even johnny is gone. the loud scot from next door, a guy you had disliked at first without having officially met him - thin walls was the only bad thing this building has, and you were forced to listen to him do everything, from weight lifting, to watching tv, to having sex - but when you bumped into each other your opinion changed drastically. a gentleman, funny and light-hearted. he hadn't taken to heart your complaints about the noise, only promising to take it down a notch.

without the muffled sounds of his tv to annoy you - his partner had apologised for the volume, saying he's partially deaf in one ear from having been too close to explosions way too many times - you were left reading your book in silence. maybe you'd go to the grocery store later, stock up so you won't need to leave your house - the weatherman said it's going to get colder, heavy snow expected.

johnny hands simon the keys to his flat. him and his bird are going to the supermarket, there's nothing in the fridge or the cupboards for the next few days. the scot told him to take a shower, relax and make himself at home until they come back, and he didn't have to be told twice with the biting cold making his nose stuffy.

johnny's building is freshly painted to look new on the outside but old on the inside. he's been here before, and he remembers mactavish struggling to open his front door sometimes, for the lock got stuck.

he tries to reenact the technique his best friend uses to get in, trying his hardest to open the door gently instead of pushing with his shoulder like he does back at his own flat. he turns the key one, two, three times and pulls forward softly, trying to turn the key for the fourth and final time.

fuck. you gotta be fucking joking.

"fuckin' hell."

he tries again. and again, this time throwing his bag on the floor. the door rattles as he uses a bit more force, frustration building steadily and quickly.

you press play on spotify, the familiar voices of joe and frank from the basement yard podcast filling your ears. your headphones are pushing the hair out of your face and also act as ear muffs. you check your coat pockets for your phone and keys, nodding to yourself before kissing your cat goodbye. you promise her treats from the grocery store.

at first, you don't notice the hunk of a man at the door next to yours. the podcast is on full volume and your securing your scarf around your shoulder. it's when you turn to shut your door that you freeze mid-step.

in front of you, with is back turned to you, there's a giant guy pressing all his weight to johnny's door. he's wearing all black, hood drawn up, which makes this situation much much scarier.

fuck fuck fuck fuck. what the fuck. he's tryinf to break in the flat. oh fuck fuck fuck, what do i do? has he noticed me? he hasn't turned around yet. what the fuck. shit fuck. FUCK. what the fuck?!

your body reacts a few seconds later. with wide eyes and pursed lips, you hold your breath, and take a step inside your home. half your body is outside, facing him incase he decides to turn around and your arm is blindly reaching for your big umbrella.

once you have a stready hold on it, you don't hesitate to take two big steps forward and hurl it on the intruder's neck. your headphones for on your shoulders, and you hit him again, and this time he physically recoils.

you hit him another time, not quite as hard, and flinch at the sound the plastic makes against his jacket but you're gaining confidence as he grunts in pain. you shout something at him, something about this being karma for trying to break into somebody else's house, and he yelps something in response, but the blood rushing in your ears is louder than your voices.

you swing the umbrella back to hit him again, gathering all the courage you can muster for a final blow. you take a millisecond more to do so and he has time to move before it can connect with his back. unfortunately for the guy, the umbrella hits the side of his face.

he yelps and you drop it with a gasp, hands covering your mouth in shock.

his face is still hidden under his hood, but his ungloved fingers reach for his cheek, where the tip of the umbrella connected.

there's a moment of silence. your eyes are wider than before, as wide as saucers, and you're breathing heavily like him. you're scared beyond your mind, the fear having paralysed you once again. you stand there watching him rub his face witha grunt.

"you fuckin' crazy or wha', lady?!" he finally speaks with gritted teeth. his accent is hot. "'m not a fucking intruder."

oh shit.

"...you're not?"

"no, the fuck 'm not," he says calmly, and your heart rate picks up. "would an intruder have keys to the bloody flat?" he shows you the keys and you gasp softly, recognising johnny's scottish flag keychain.

"i'm—oh," your hands reach out as you try to approach him. "i'm so terribly sorry, i just—mactavish isn't home and you're huge and you were throwing yourself at the door and you have your hood up and you're so. fucking. big, i thought you were trying to rob the place—" you take a deep breath, trying to calm your racing thoughts - you just beat a guy with an umbrella for no fucking reason!!!!!! ‐ "here, let me help you." you signal for him to enter your flat.

simon watches you for a moment. flushed cheeks, eyes glassy and overflowing emotions, hands waving frantically as you open your own door wider for him to walk in.

he should refuse. flat out say no. you just attacked him with an umbrella for fucks sake. it's still in your trembling hands. he should refuse. but you said mactavish. you know johnny. and he knows himself. he must've looked terrifying to you, back hunched over the lock, shoulder pushing on the old wooden door.

you look genuinely sorry and worried, very willing to let him into your home, even though he hasn't given you any information about himself. for all you know, he could've stolen the keys from johnny or his bird, he could be a proper burglar.

he should shake his head and turn your back on you. it doesn't even hurt. he's had worse. he thinks his cheekbone might have a scratch, but he's fine. ghost has been through torture before - your hits are nothing compared to that.

but you're pretty. extremely so.

so, he nods slowly, removing his hand from his cheek and grabbing his duffel bag from the ground. you wait by the door, watching his every move as he walks in.

you point to your kitchen chair, he sits - he's so imposing, your kitchen seems smaller with him in it - and you immediately rush for a pack of beans from the freezer and a towel.

"put this on your cherk," you instruct and disappear somwhere further inside the flat. he watches you.

when you come back you have rubbing alcohol, cotton pads and a packet of band-aids. simon begins to stand.

"'s not necessary. 's barely a scratch, ma'am."

you don't even look at him as you set the stuff down. he stares at you. "no, no, i feel terrible - the least i can do is fix your face."

"you sayin' my mug is ugly?"

you pause, head snapping to the side to meet the stranger's eyes. you frown, another apology ready to escape your lips.

he's smirking. right corner of his lips tilted up. he's joking. your shoulders sag and you exhale with a smile.

"no, your face is quite nice, stranger."

it is. strong features, long nose - looks to have been broken a hundred times - some scars here and there, long eyelashes and pretty brown eyes.

"simon. simon riley."

simon. nice name - suits him. friend of johnny's, you remember. probably military, judging by the width of his back. and the unintenional scrutinising and intimidating gaze.

you introduce yourself, breath hitching when he repeats your first name slowly.

"pretty name." you shrug, grabbing a wet cotton pad and slowly moving it towards him. he doesn't pull away, and you press it against the small scratch on his cheek as he speaks. "suppose a pretty girl deserves a pretty name."

you chuckle, heat rising up your neck and spreading to your cheeks as you move on to the pack of band-aids.

"so, you know johnny?" you ask.

"saved his ugly mug a coupl'a times. we're spending christmas here."

your smile falters as you stick the small band-aid on his cheek (only now realising it has anakin skywalker printed on it). you're once again reminded of how lonely you'll be during christmas. simon notices it, but hesitates asking if you're okay.

"sorry for the uh, band-aid. uh, i don't have any normal ones." he brushes it off with a shake of his head. "you're good to go, now. i'm sure you have things to do."

simon silently gets up and grabs his things, all while watching you put your coat and scarf back on. whatever light you had on your face moments before is gone, and he's trying to figure out what he said wrong to cause this.

he follows you out of the flat, mind forming different ways to ask if something's wrong. he can't help but ask when he hears you sigh heavily, almost defeated.

"you okay, love?"

"huh—what?" you look at him once and then continue locking your door.

"you alright? did i say something that upset you?"

your smile returns with his words, but it doesn't quite reach your eyes.

"no, i'm all good, don't worry. just don't want to go for groceries in the freezing cold, ya know?" he nods, jiggling johnny's keys in his hands. "anyway, it was nice meeting you, simon. and i'm really sorry for thinking you're an intruder and hitting you with my umbrella and whatnot. i hope to see you around - have fun!"

and before he can ask where you're spending your christmas, or why you're going to the supermarket instead of packing to go back to wherever your home is - your accent clearly indicates you're not from edinburgh, as if the books, pens, and scattered notebooks at your home were not enough - you're walking down the stairs and dissappear from his eyesight.

simon stands for a moment before turning to the door again. you're interesting, to say the least, and you said his face was...nice - he doesn't get that often. and you have band-aids with Star Wars characters, and you laughed at his joke. and you were brave enough to attack him when you thought he was a burglar.

yeah, he hopes to see you around too.

[thisapplepielife]

Written for a @astrangersummer.

Tip Your Driver

Week #15 Prompt: Modern AU | Word Count: 4115 | Rating: T | POV: Steve | Characters: Steve, Eddie, Wayne, Robin | Relationships: Steddie, Platonic Stobin | CW: Language, Non-Explicit Mentions of Sex | Tags: Modern Setting AU, Delivery Driver Steve, Rock Star Eddie, Meet Cute, Good Uncle Wayne Munson

Of all the shitty service jobs Steve's had, this one is definitely among the worst.

And he's been stuck working some pretty shitty jobs over the years, both before and after they moved out here. If he hadn't hated the one at the shoe store so much, because ew feet, he wouldn't be doing this in the first place. At least that was in one location, a steady paycheck, and not that far from their apartment. But, he didn't know that feet draw in some weirdos, so here he is, lugging other people's shit around, because he needs the money.

He just sighs as he pulls up in front of the address on the app. He double checks the posted numbers over the garage, and it seems to be the right place. Everything matches enough for him to call it good.

The house is really nice.

It's not in The Hills or anything, so he hadn't expected something so nice.

Now, Steve doesn't mind delivering groceries, not really, but this guy, Eddie it says, ordered a bunch of heavy shit, and the tip was only the mediocre bare minimum. Which, he wasn't that mad about, until right now, after he's seen the house this guy lives in. 

No, now he's pretty annoyed.

Whatever. Par for the fucking course from Fancy Pants Rich McGee over here. How the hell you spell chauffeur? Chauffeur. Indeed. Maybe he should make tiktoks about situations just like this. Robin keeps hounding him, saying if he'd just do it, that he could rake in a little extra cash. 

He's skeptical. 

Steve looks back at the house. 

Oh well. He left his money behind for a reason, the only thing he kept was his car because his parents were dumb enough to put it in his name. And honestly? It does him no good to be jealous or whatever the fuck he's feeling right now.

At least this guy had been responsive, and pretty nice, when answering Steve's messages about substitutions and out of stock items. Not everybody is, unfortunately, acting as if Steve is the one stocking the store himself.

Steve opens the back hatch of his car, and leans in to grab the first items to be left at the door, as requested. If they don't see you, they feel less bad about the shitty tip, Steve's learned.

But it's fine. Steve doesn't want to deal with anyone face-to-face today, anyway. Because he needs to hurry. He and Robin are already a couple days late on rent, and he's gotta try to make up the difference today. If not, they're gonna be fucking screwed. Why is this city so goddamn expensive to live in? It's bullshit.

"Let me help," comes the voice right next to him, and Steve jumps, hitting his head on the open hatch door.

Now, he's skipped over annoyed and has been vaulted straight into pissed off. 

Partly at himself for being so far in his own head that he didn't even hear this guy approaching, but mainly at this asshole for even being in his personal space in the first place. He needs to take about three big steps back.

"Oh, fuck! Sorry! I didn't mean to startle you!" the guy shouts, and Steve hasn't even seen this asshole yet, but he knows he hates him. 

"Most people don't help unload the car," Steve snaps, turning to look at him, and the guy is looking back at him with big, big brown eyes. Robin would call them doe eyes, without a doubt. Well, fuck. Fine. Steve softens his tone, "It's okay. I just wasn't expecting you."

"Sorry," Eddie says again, still too close. "I'm Eddie. I ordered the groceries. Can I help? Please?"

Steve nods, and lets him reach in and grab his own case of water, while Steve picks up a few of the sacks. It's the least the guy can do, now that he's given him a headache. Literally.

Steve carries the sacks towards the porch, and leans over to put them down.

"Just come on in," Eddie says, and the door swings open, banging against the rubber doorstop on the wall.

"Don't bang the door!" comes the yell from the other room, and Steve peers into the house and sees an older guy sitting in a lift chair, with a walker in front of him.

"It's my door, old man, I'll bang it if I want to!" Eddie yells back, but there's no heat there. Steve can hear the teasing affection in his voice, and Steve can't help but smile.

"Don't come crying to me when there's a hole in your wall. Can you patch drywall? Because I can't right now," the guy, probably Eddie's dad the way they're bickering, snaps.

Eddie ignores the question from his dad.

"C'mon, this way," Eddie says, looking over his shoulder at Steve, as Steve lingers on the step. 

Well, no. That's not. You don't go in stranger's houses. It's, like, rule one. And just good common sense. Which apparently Steve has none of, because he does follow Eddie into the house. 

Robin will kill him, if this Eddie dude doesn't kill him first. 

Steve puts the bags down on the counter, and heads back out to make another trip, Eddie following, "That's my uncle. He's just crotchety that he had to have his broken hip replaced, and now he's dependent on me for the near future."

Steve laughs, "Well, maybe don't bang the door and he won't be crotchety."

"You heard me. It's my door," Eddie says, smiling wide. He's pretty, very pretty. Long, dark hair tied up on top of his head, and heavy tattoos all along his arms, creeping up onto his neck.

He's honestly gorgeous. 

Steve wonders if he's famous. He doesn't look familiar, but he looks like he could be famous. And his house is pretty fucking nice. This is L.A. Everybody is somehow famous in L.A. Except for Steve and Robin. They are definitely not famous.

Unless he's a tech bro? But he doesn't really look the type.

Either way, famous or not, Steve smiles back, can't not, not when he looks like that, then asks, teasing him, "Well do you know how to patch drywall?" 

"Fuck no. But I could hire someone to fix it if the door knob somehow gets through the stopper."

"Well, at least you have a plan," Steve says, and Eddie laughs.

"He just hates the city. Hates my house. Hates everything. Except me. He loves me," Eddie says, as he grabs a case of Gatorade in one hand and the case of pork and beans in the other.

That's a lot of beans. 

"That's a lot of beans," Steve says aloud, even if he doesn't mean to, even if he knows better than to comment on other people's groceries. 

But Eddie laughs. "Tell me about it. Man likes what he likes, though. There's no changing him now." 

Steve nods, grabbing another handful himself. It's nice that Eddie is taking care of his uncle.

"I'm not usually home much, hence all the groceries being ordered at once. Sorry about that. The cabinets were pretty bare, and I just didn't want to leave him home alone. He's still a fall risk, even if he keeps insisting he's not."

"That's okay, I understand. Big orders are more common than you'd think," Steve says, stepping back into the house that he's probably not going to get murdered in, thankfully.

Big orders are common, he's not lying about that, and more often than not, the tips offered for shopping hundreds of items, are less than you'd think. So, this order wasn't even out of the ordinary. Not really. That's why Steve took it. Some pay was better than none, especially today, that's for sure.

"Still. I'm grateful. You saved my ass today, man," Eddie answers. 

"Well, it's my job," Steve says, and Eddie laughs.

They finish bringing everything in, and Steve nods at Eddie, "Okay. I think that does it."

"Here," Eddie says, and plucks an envelope off the counter, "I always worry that your tips in the app will get eaten up by the corporate assholes taking their cut off the top. So. Cash is king."

Steve takes the envelope. A tip he doesn't have to report? Why thank you, Eddie. 

"Thank you. You didn't have to do this, or help bring it in, you know? But I appreciate both."

Eddie smiles, "Thank you for getting all that shit for us. We both appreciate it. Don't we Wayne?"

Wayne grumbles, but Steve's pretty sure he doesn't appreciate anything right now. He knows he wouldn't either, if he had broken his hip.

They say their goodbyes, and that's that. Steve will never see Eddie with the pretty eyes ever again.

At the next red light, Steve opens the envelope, expecting an extra ten or twenty bucks, maybe, but is shocked to see that there are three, insanely crisp one hundred dollar bills inside. 

Holy shit. 

That's way more than he usually makes in a single day. Two days, even. Just by delivering one order that he didn't think was gonna pay well at all.

And he got to look at a hot dude for a minute or two. 

It's enough to cover what they were short on the rent, even. It might not have felt like a lot of money to Eddie, if he handed it over so readily, but it feels life-changing to Steve, right now. He remembers when three hundred bucks wasn't anything to him either, back when he had access to all his parents' money and all their unhappiness.

Now, it's different. 

Robin's gonna shit.

Hot damn.

Thank you, Eddie.

"Booyah," Steve says, slapping the envelope on the counter. 

Robin picks it up, and thumbs through it. It has Eddie's tip, and the few extra bucks he picked up during the rest of the day. 

"Oh my god, no way! Where did you get this much cash, dingus? Are you turning tricks on the side now?" Robin asks, and Steve laughs. 

"Yes. I thought I'd see what I could get for this ass," Steve says, turning and pushing his ass outwards in her direction. 

She doesn't even look, but says, "Honestly, you might be worth more than this, as much as I hate to admit it," she comments dryly, and he smiles. 

"No, some rich dude that ordered a bunch of heavy shit gave me a big tip," Steve explains.

"That's what she said," Robin teases, and her eyes are still wide as she looks at the bills in her hand, "Seriously, though. Thank you, rich, old dude," Robin says. 

"Rich, but not old. I think he might have been famous in some way. YouTuber? Musician? I don't know. Nice house." 

"Well. Describe him. Let's Google him," Robin says, wiggling her fingers in the air like she's stretching before this big task she's about to undertake.

Steve isn't sure searching for him is gonna work, but he lets her try, "Eddie. Probably a little older than us. Lots of tattoos." 

"Was it Eddie Vedder? Please tell me you know who Eddie Vedder is, dingus?" 

He knows who Eddie Vedder is, Jesus. 

He gives her a look, "Not that old. And he was heavily tattooed. Is Eddie Vedder tattooed? Plus, this guy had dark eyes. Really dark. And no flannel." 

She keeps looking on her phone, showing him options, "Him?" 

No. 

"Him?" 

No. 

"Him?" 

"No. Not him." None of them are. Nobody she shows him is the same guy. So, he thinks of all the famous Eddies he knows of. 

"Was it Eddie Van Halen?" Steve asks. 

"Since he's dead, probably not," Robin says. 

"Oh," Steve says. He didn't remember that. And he'd be too old, anyway. "We're looking for someone that looks kinda like young Eddie Van Halen. But with tattoos."

"You're obsessed with the tattoos. Was it Ed Sheeran? He has lots of tattoos," Robin asks, and he rolls his eyes. 

"Robin. I think I know what Ed Sheeran looks like. This man was not ginger. Dark hair, dark eyes. And he was American. Maybe this guy is just rich? Not famous at all. It doesn't matter. I'll never see him again, anyway. We'll just thank him from afar for saving our asses today." 

Robin sighs heavily, and puts her phone down, "If you'd got yourself a rich boyfriend we'd have it made all the time." 

"Well, I'll work on that," he says sarcastically. 

At least for now, they can pay another month's rent. That's a big win. Huge.

Maybe they can keep their heads above water, now.

And they do, by some sort of miracle. It was only three hundred bucks, but that was enough of a windfall to get them back in the black. And somehow they've stayed ahead since, for nearly two whole months. They haven't been this stable financially since they arrived in town.

Today, Steve flips through the different apps he drives for, trying to decide what order to take, when he sees a huge pizza order. The order is absurdly big, but the tip is decent, and picking up a stack of pizzas is infinitely easier than shopping a whole-ass grocery list. Steve's just seriously questioning if it'll all fit in his car.

He's gonna risk it.

Luckily, it does, but there are pizza boxes piled high in every seat and the rear. He definitely doesn't have hot bags for all of them. Hopefully he doesn't get caught in traffic.

The area seems familiar, but when Steve pulls up in front of the house, he knows why. Eddie. Only, the last time it was groceries, not food, that he delivered here. 

There are vehicles everywhere. Clearly some sort of party, Steve thinks, to require this amount of pizza. And as soon as Steve steps out of the car, Eddie is out of the house, being trailed by three other, mostly leather-clad, guys. It'd look threatening, if Eddie wasn't smiling so big.

"Steve! When I saw Steve was my driver, I was like, maybe? But Steve's a common name, and there was no picture, so I didn't get my hopes up, but hey! It is you!" Eddie shouts, moving to the back of the car, "Watch your head this time, sweetheart," Eddie adds, and Steve is sure he's blushing. 

He just stands there kind of dumbly, watching as Eddie commandeers his order right out of Steve's vehicle. Eddie's definitely unusual. 

Eddie hands stack after stack of pizzas to the waiting guys, making them carry the bulk of it. And Steve watches as they ferry them off towards the house, Steve not having to even lift a finger this time. 

Now, it's just him and Eddie standing on the curb. 

Eddie holds out an envelope, and Steve looks at it.

"Man, thank you, but you tipped so well last time, you really don't have to again."

"I want to. You provide a service, I want to pay for that service," Eddie says, shaking the envelope, and Steve reluctantly takes it. Whatever is inside, will really help him and Robin stay ahead. It did last time. He's not really in a position to say no, even as well as they are doing at the moment.

"Thank you, truly," Steve says, tucking it into his pocket, "How's your Uncle Wayne's hip?"

Eddie smiles, so fucking wide, "You remembered! He's good. Great. Headed home soon, which I'm certain he's thrilled about. He's definitely never coming here again. I'll have to go home when I want to see him."

Steve laughs, "Glad to hear he's better, if annoyed."

"Do you want to stay?" Eddie asks, "We're having a little going away party for him. The more the merrier. Or, is your shift not over? You could come back?"

Steve doesn't have a shift, he can clock in and out to take orders as he pleases, and right now he'd really like to accept Eddie's offer. Even if it's probably just Eddie being polite. A pity ask, if you will.

"You don't have to invite your delivery driver into your house, you know? I could be a murderer."

"Unlikely," Eddie says, "and I'm not inviting my delivery driver. I'm inviting you, Steve."

Steve thinks over the options, and then nods. He can go in for a bit. If he's uncomfortable, he can get right back on the clock, no harm, no foul.

"Okay, let me park," Steve says, and he does just that. Putting the envelope of cash into the glove box without opening it. He doesn't want Eddie to see him scrounging through it. That feels tacky.

The pizza boxes are already open on every available flat surface in the kitchen and living room, and Eddie shoves a paper plate into Steve's hands, "Eat. Drink. Be merry."

Steve nods, and grabs a slice from the nearest box. He's not picky.

The house is full of people, and a lot of them seem vaguely famous. Like this is an industry thing, instead of a going away party for an old man with a newly not-broken hip.

Steve's worked enough of these events. They tried the catering thing for a while, and it was fine, for Steve anyway. Robin was just a little too clumsy to carry trays of dainty hors d'oeuvres around rooms filled with beautiful women in expensive dresses.

This isn't any of that though. This is cases of beer being chilled in kiddie pools, and dozens of pizzas. Fancy house, but not a fancy party. Steve spots Eddie's uncle sitting by himself on a couch, a beer resting on his knee and a paper plate of pizza on the arm rest.

Nobody else is sitting by him, so Steve goes over, "Can I sit?"

Wayne grumbles something that could be yes, could be no, Steve's not wholly sure, but he chooses to go ahead and sit down beside him.

"How's your hip?" Steve asks.

"Who are you?" Wayne asks, looking at him, suspicious.

"Steve. Uh, a delivery driver? I've brought a couple orders to you guys now. And Eddie invited me to stay."

Wayne nods, and goes back to his plate, "Hip's fine. Ready to go home."

"Where's home?" Steve asks, and he's not sure why. Clearly this man has no interest in making small talk with him.

"Indiana," Wayne says. 

"Hey! For me, too. Small world."

"What're you doing in California, then?" Wayne asks. "Trying to get into show biz?"

"No. No way," Steve laughs, "Not for me. Uh, my best friend? Robin? She wanted to move out here. Wanted an adventure. And I wanted her to be happy. So. Here we are."

Wayne nods.

"Did you break your hip in Indiana and Eddie dragged you all the way out here?" Steve asks.

"No," Wayne answers, "I came to visit him and broke my hip before I got out of the airport. This is why I don't take vacations."

Steve smiles, "That's bad luck. Sorry."

Wayne nods his head, and Steve assumes that's the end of this conversation, and they sit in silence for a few moments.

"You're Steve? The one that brought the groceries a few weeks ago?" Wayne asks.

"That's me," Steve confirms.

"He's been talking about you non-stop. I was like, just order more groceries. So, he tried. It was never you. Now we have more food than he'll ever eat. Probably need to take it to the food pantry."

Steve grins, looking down at his plate. He isn't sure what Eddie would want to see him for. They definitely aren't on the same level.

Eddie is across the room, talking wildly with his hands.

"He's a good kid," Wayne says, quietly, "All this? Not him. Not all of him, anyway."

Steve looks back at Wayne, "What do you mean?"

"All this fancy shit. I'm proud of him that their music has done so well. But he's a good kid. And he just wants to be happy."

"Don't we all," Steve says.

"People take advantage. If you're here for the money, for the fame. Just. Move on. Eddie would give it to you. But he wants something more. Needs it, I think."

Steve thinks he could be something more. But he doesn't really have anything to offer Eddie in return, and maybe heeding Wayne's warning wouldn't be such a bad idea. What business does he have getting involved with a famous musician? None. 

"Got it," Steve says. "Well, I'm glad your hip healed."

Wayne grumbles at that, and it makes Steve smile.

Steve puts his trash in the can, and looks around. The hallways are lined with platinum records, news articles, and he leans close to read the name. Eddie Munson. Corroded Coffin. He's never heard of them. He'll have to look them up on Spotify. 

He doesn't belong here. 

He takes one last look at Eddie. 

Eddie Munson of Corroded Coffin.

He tries to memorize his name, his band, so he can tell Robin later, solving their little mystery.

And then he ducks out of the front door, walking down the long driveway towards his car. 

"Hey, Steve! Wait!" Eddie yells from behind him, and Steve slows. 

"Hey, man. Thanks for having me," Steve says, turning to look at him.

"You're leaving already?"

Steve nods, "Work, you know."

Eddie nods, "Okay. Well. Come back. Anytime."

"Thanks, Eddie," Steve says, because he's pretty sure Eddie means that, "Enjoy your party. I'm glad Wayne's hip is good as new."

Steve turns to keep walking.

"Steve. Uh," Eddie says, and Steve considers pretending he didn't hear him. It'd be easy. The music is loud, probably pissing off the neighbors, but Eddie keeps talking. "Listen. I like you. Yeah, I know. I barely know you. But. We got good vibes, man. Can you not feel that?" Eddie asks, and when Steve turns to look back at him, he sees that Eddie's hands are shoved deep into his pockets. 

He looks nervous.

He's famous, clearly rich, and beautiful. He could have anyone he wants. But he looks nervous talking to Steve. Who delivered the pizza. Make it make sense. Goddamn. 

"Eddie," Steve says.

"Do you not feel it? If you don't, I'll leave you alone. I swear. But if you do…"

Steve nods, "I do. But I'm a delivery driver. I live in a tiny apartment that I share with my best friend. We barely make ends meet. You could have anyone. Why would you want me?"

"Because I like you," Eddie says, "and I want to get to know you. I didn't grow up with anything either. I'm not old money. I'm new money. Brand new. So. I'm not that out of touch yet."

Steve smiles. He's old money, he just doesn't have access to it anymore. Eddie's new money, and doesn't know how to handle it. They'd be quite the pair.

Eddie keeps talking, trying to wheedle a date out of him, "Just. Let me take you out. Just us. Let's see if there's anything here," he says, motioning his hand between the two of them.

Steve wants to, he really does. 

"Okay," Steve finally says, "nothing fancy. A normal date."

"We can definitely do that," Eddie says, and reaches into his pocket, pulling out his phone. "Let me give you my number."

Steve rattles off his number, Eddie texts him, and it buzzes against Steve's thigh. Already coming through, showing he's serious.

"Dinner? Movie? Bar? You name it," Eddie offers, eyes never leaving Steve's.

"Dinner's good. Nowhere fancy, though," Steve warns. 

"Do I look like I like fancy places?" Eddie asks, looking down at his own clothes.

And Steve's eyes cut back to the gorgeous house.

Eddie laughs, "Fair enough. But I don't."

"Can you go out in public? Or are you too famous?" Steve asks. "I'm not familiar with your band, sorry."

Eddie laughs, "I think I like that you aren't, sweetheart. That means that maybe you like me, just for me. And I can go out. Nobody cares about me all that much."

Steve nods. Alright. They can go on one date, and see how it goes. 

Well. That's how it goes.

Very, very well.

So well, that Steve's now satisfied and loose in Eddie's bed, when Eddie laughs, rolling into Steve's shoulder, face pressed to his skin. Lips kissing his shoulder, biting at him gently. Playing with him.

"What?" Steve asks, smiling as Eddie slides his hand into his, squeezing. "What's so funny."

"I tipped my driver," Eddie chokes out, laughing around each word, pressing his crotch into Steve's thigh.

Steve laughs, looking down at this ridiculous man clinging to him, "That you did. And damn well."

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @astrangersummer and follow along with the fun!

[strawberryfloofs]

tw: mentions of neglect/abuse

carer with a traumatized age regressor they know they're helping to heal everytime they slip.

never received toys/were given very few toys as a kid? bubbas spoiling you in all the toys you want! if their kiddo is a little more shy and feeling guilty, they'll notice their little one eyeing a toy. "do you want it puppy? no need to feel bad, i just wanna give you everything you deserve"

went without food in public? carer will always order something for you, you never have to watch them eat while you have nothing. "oh honey I would never~ not only is that mean, but you gotta grow big and strong like me!"

went without food/snacks in private? your caregiver always makes sure they stock up on your favorite snacks and brands- no matter how specific they are. there's no shame in only eating a certain brand or flavor of chips. there's always groceries in the house and they're happy to cook for you, wanting to make sure you're safe AND fed. "are you hungy? I can get my sweetheart their favorite snack until the pastas done?"

had bad physical treatment? they would NEVER even THINK about laying a hand on you. if you misbehave or act up, they understand you're just in littlespace. like real kids, emotions can be hard and some moments arent good. sometimes kids like to test boundaries, there's nothing wrong with that. they won't let it slide and will issue lines, time outs, and stuff like early bedtime or shorter playtime- but nothing physical or mentally damaging. "angel I know you're all upset and shouting at bubba, but I need you to sit in the chair for 5 minutes. we don't yell."

missed out on a lot of childhood experiences? that's okay! your cg is soooo happy to integrate anything into their routine. whether it's storytime, going to the park, holiday celebrations, they're happy to accomodate! "oh you wanna have a bubba baby book read before your nap? of course little one!"

touch starved and wanting a lot of physical affection? they'll love on you SO much to try and make up for it! cuddles, pats, carries, boops, you got it! "awww does munchkin need a hug? cmere"

weren't treated the best emotionally? they understand how it can impact you. your carer always reminds you that you're not a burden, it wasn't your fault, and they truly do love you. they're not lying to you, they don't hate you, there's no maliciousness or ulterior motives- just pure love and care. "I know it was a lot, and I'm sorry you had to live through that angel- but I'm glad you're with me now. As long as I'm here, and as long as you'll let me- I won't let anyone treat you like that again. I pinky promise, my little love. Always, and forever."

Icl, this was very self indulgent to me- but I hope anyone who can sadly relate feels atleast a little bit of comfort and wholesomeness from this. I believe you. You're strong.

[emmyrosee]

He knows you’re tired. Exhausted even.

Standing in line at the grocery store, you’d been closer and cuddlier to Koutarou than usual, burrowing your head in the nape of his neck and swaying slightly to stand. On the car ride home, you can barely keep your eyes open, leaning over the center console and trying to burrow into him.

He loves it an unhealthy amount.

But he doesn’t know, really, why you’re so out of it today- you say you don’t know either, but he thinks youre full of it, and he can tell by the cheeky look you give him every time he asks.

It’s not your fault Kodzuken’s been streaming at ungodly hours lately.

It does seem to reach a point today where you’re a zombie, barely able to function or move without a massive delay. It took you and Koutarou fifteen minutes to unload the car’s groceries; by the sixteenth, he scoops you in his bulky arms and carries you in.

“Taro, no,” you grumble, not really putting up a fight. “Gotta help you.” Still ignoring you, he settles you on the couch with a blanket and a kiss loving nuzzle to your nose, and tutting softly when you mumble a barely coherent ‘m fine.’

“No, you’re not,” he chuckles, guiding you back down. “I got the groceries. Then we can cuddle and nap and be as close as you want.”

And while your eyes look as if there’s a fight in you, your smile of mercy says otherwise, and you lay your head back down onto the arm of the couch and pull the blanket higher, allowing yourself to drift.

And Bokuto has full intentions of letting you sleep. Honestly! The groceries are being stocked, frozen’s tucked away until there’s an incessant buzzing on his phone.

A flurry of text updates from Atsumu; EJP’s game finally started, and he’d be a liar if he said he wanted to miss it.

“Ah, no way! I thought their game was earlier!” He says aloud, bounding into the living room and plopping down onto the couch, startling you from your sleep. You whine angrily, but he’s already zoned in to the action. He feels your eyes boring into him, and the couch dips under your moving weight as you crawl towards him.

“Who’s game?”

He forgets to answer as his eyes are now focused on the screen, a smile of excitement curling on his face as he lets his eyes dance over the action of the game in the middle of its first set.

“EJP? I thought we missed it.”

“Yeah!” He says excitedly. “It’s Washio’s team- game must’ve gotten bumped, thought it was earlier too.”

“Did it just start?”

“Seems like it,” he says, tossing an arm around your shoulder and pulling you in for a hug. You nuzzle and curl against him, but his excitement never lets you get too comfortable in his husky frame.

This, has you silent for a second. Then, you hum next to him and get up, breaking his focus from the television, “where are you going?” He asks softly, but turns back towards the tv when a whistle blows.

“Just have to use the bathroom,” you say, planting a kiss to his temple. “I’ll be back, just keep track of the plays for me.”

“You got it!” He says happily, leaning forward on his knees to watch the match.

Time truly does fly, as within seemingly minutes after turning on the tv, EJP finally seems to sweep the match completely, the post game interviews starting up right after. He pouts, but when he looks at his phone, his brows shoot up as nearly an hour has passed from when he turned on the tv.

He turns his head to ask you what you thought, but when he does, you’re not there. The spot next to him is cold, and he checks his phone again to see if you maybe left without telling him?

No dice.

He has no clue where you went.

“Baby?” He calls, rising from the couch and clicking off the tv to look for you. The house is silent, you’ve seemingly vanished from the vicinity, but you usually are pretty good at telling him when you leave.

He calls your name once again before finally crawling up the stairs to search, but it doesn’t take long for him to peek through the ajar door and smile at your napping form.

You’re curled up on his side of the bed, cuddled into his pillow and resting soundly under the blanket. Your eyes twitch as you dream your extravagant dreams, one he’s sure you’ll tell him about later. Koutarou sighs softly in relief before coming in and closing the door behind him.

“Hey,” he mumbles lowly, as if to not scare you. “Whatcha doin?” When you mewl a quiet ‘taro?’, he crawls next to you in bed, spooning you into his warm arms and gently taking selfish inhales of your scent. You flip into his embrace and burrow into the dip of his neck as you’ve done countless of times in your relationship.

“Game over?” You murmur, and he shushes you softly.

“Yeah- we won. I would’ve let you nap; you didn’t have to abandon me,” he snickers.

There’s a cheeky smirk that spreads on your slumbered features. It’s obvious to him now that you wanted to be alone to sleep, and while he’s not thrilled you were in here by yourself, or that you tricked him to be alone, he’s gotta admit that you played the game well. “You were busy,” you murmur. “Nice to nap without your snores.”

“Excuse you.” He kisses your forehead and uses one of his massive hands to cup the back of your head. “Go back to bed. I’ll deal with you later.”

“Mkay,” you yawn. The room is silent again, and just before your breathing can even out once again, you giggle from his neck. “Can’t believe you bought it.”

“I can’t believe you tricked me!”

You let out another little snicker before tuck closer to him, letting sleep take over while Bokuto lets his fingers gently massaging the back of your head with soft hands.

He’ll just have to scold you for it later.

[hynzsn]

★ SUMMER DAYS ★

☆ jaehyun x male reader

꩜ .ᐟ fluff

contents: established relationship, boyfriends, romance, soft, domestic fluff, clingy!jaehyun, summer days, lazy days, summer, jaehyun is whipped, jaehyun’s soft for his boyfriend, cuddles, sleepy cuddles, nap time, ice cream eating, fan on blast, playing with jaehyun’s hair, ponytail!jaehyun, rubbing feet (affectionately), texting, pet name (baby)

wc: 0.8k

summary: scorching summer day + clingy boyfriend jaehyun = a whole lot of sugary treats, playful touches, and sleepy cuddles on the couch.

♡︎♡︎♡︎ likes, comments and reblogs are highly appreciated ♡︎♡︎♡︎

📱 -> incoming message from jaehyunnie 💕💕: hey hey hey you free today? 🥺👉👈

📱 -> outgoing message to jaehyunnie 💕💕: depends… what’d you have in mind, babe? 🤔

📱 -> incoming message from jaehyunnie 💕💕: nothin specific rlly… just miss your face 🥺🥺 can i see it??

📱 -> outgoing message to jaehyunnie 💕💕: oh you little flirt 😩😩 fineee you win, i’m coming over! what’s your address again? jk i’m already outside your apartment complex lol

📱 -> incoming message from jaehyunnie 💕💕: OMG WAIT REALLY??? IM COMING DOWN RN HOLD ON BABY BE THERE IN A SEC!!! 💖💖💖

you smile down at your phone, the summer sun warming your face. even through the screen, you can feel jaehyun’s excitement radiating. he’s always been a ball of sunshine, but summer seems to amplify it tenfold.

the elevator dings, signaling your arrival on his floor. as the doors slide open, you’re met with jaehyun practically vibrating with anticipation. he’s leaning against the wall opposite the elevator, a wide grin splitting his face as soon as his eyes land on you.

before you can even register what’s happening, he’s crossing the short distance between you and engulfing you in a hug that smells of like pure vanilla. “you’re here, you’re here, you’re here! you’re really here!” he chants, squeezing you tight before pulling back with a blinding grin.

he’s wearing a simple white tank top that shows off his toned arms (you always did have a thing for his arms) and a pair of grey sweatpants hanging low on his hips. his hair is a mess of tousled black, sticking up in different directions. cute, but you know it’s gotta be bothering him in this heat.

“missed me that much, huh?” you tease, letting him tug you down the hallway towards his apartment

“always,” he says, already fumbling with his keys, “come on, i stocked up on ice cream and everything.”

he ushers you into the cool air of his apartment, the same scent of vanilla and something even sweeter - probably the ice cream he’s been going on about - hitting you immediately.

“you’re spoiling me,” you say, following him further into the apartment.

“only the best for my baby,” he replies, already leading you towards the living room.

the living room is a haven of comfort, with sunlight streaming through the windows and a large fan oscillating in the corner. you collapse onto the plush rug, jaehyun immediately joining you, his legs tangling with yours. he’s already digging through a bag of groceries, pulling out a carton of your favorite ice cream and a bag of colorful ice lollipops.

“you’re really the best, you know that?” you say, accepting the offered spoon with a grateful smile.

he just beams at you, already digging in his own carton.

the afternoon melts away like the ice cream you’re devouring. you talk about everything and nothing, your laughter punctuated by the whirring of the fan and the occasional slurp of a melting popsicle. at some point, you find yourself leaning against jaehyun, his arm draped lazily around your shoulders. his hair keeps falling into his eyes, and you can’t resist reaching out to brush it back.

“hold still,” you murmur, gathering the front strands into a small ponytail. he lets you, tilting his head back against the couch with a soft sigh.

“what are you doing?” he asks, amusement lacing his voice.

“fixing this mess,” you say, tugging gently on the makeshift ponytail. “there. much better.”

he turns his head to look at you, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “you think i look cute with a ponytail?”

you laugh, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. “don’t push your luck, jaehyun.”

he pulls you closer, nuzzling his face into your neck. “but you love it,” he mumbles against your skin.

and maybe, just maybe, you do.

you spend the rest of the afternoon sprawled out on the couch, binge-watching your favorite tv series. the fan whirs, a constant white noise against the backdrop of the show’s dialogue. jaehyun, never one to stay still for too long, has his bare feet resting against yours, playfully rubbing them together.

as the sun begins to set, casting long shadows across the living room floor, you feel yourself drifting into a comfortable sleepiness. jaehyun’s breathing has slowed, his head resting against yours. his arms are wrapped tightly around you, as if he’s afraid you might disappear if he lets go.

you’re just about to suggest moving to the bedroom when jaehyun speaks, his voice thick with sleep.

“don’t move,” he mumbles, tightening his grip on you. “just stay here… with me.”

and really, how could you possibly say no to that?

so you let your eyes flutter closed, the warmth of jaehyun’s body and the steady rhythm of his breathing lulling you into a peaceful sleep. the summer heat might be relentless outside, but here, in the embrace of the boy you love, everything feels perfectly, blissfully cool.

[fanficforlife]

Chapter Ten

Tate came bounding out onto the porch where you and Kayce were enjoying a cup of coffee. "I'm done. Can we go now?"

"Did you finish all of your breakfast?" Kayce asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Yes." Tate groaned before grabbing your hand. "Can we go now?"

You downed the last gulp of coffee and smiled at him. "I see you already have my purse so yes, we can go."

"Gator gave me the card and list for shopping."

Kayce took your empty mug from you before the two of you stood up. "You do know that it's grocery shopping, right bud?"

"Yeah. But, Violet said she gets the vegetables from the farmers market and that there are people there that make chocolates and another one that makes ice cream and-"

"I get it." Kayce chuckled as he handed you the keys to his truck. When you took them he slid his arm around your waist. "I gotta get to work. Have fun with the rugrat."

"Now's the part where you kiss. I'll be in the truck." 

You giggled while Tate ran down the steps. "I'll see you later."

"Yes, you will." Your boyfriend leaned in and kissed you long and tenderly. "Stay with me tonight."

"If you're lucky." You teased, knowing full well that you would. Since you two had started having sex, you couldn't get enough of him. And, vice versa. He made you enjoy it again after years of dreading it. He made you feel safe and loved like you were the most beautiful woman in the world. It was the best sex you've ever had. It was like you finally found your other half. He was the missing piece that fits your heart perfectly and he felt it too. He couldn't get enough of just being near you. 

He knew you would be there and grinned. "Have a good day, baby."

"You too." You rose on your toes and kissed him. "Love you."

"Love you more." 

"Violet!" 

You and Kayce laughed at his impatient son. "Gotta go. See you later." He squeezed your waist before you slipped out of his grasp. 

*

"Oh! Look at that one!" Tate tugged on your arm as he pointed to a booth that was selling cakes of all sizes, decorated in every coloured icing under the sun. 

"Wow. Those are fancy."

"I think we should stick with cookies."

You chuckled. "I think you're right. Those look like a lot of work."

"There's the vegetable ones." Tate grabbed your hand before pulling you past the baking stalls towards the fruit and vegetables. "That one has apples! Can we get some and make apple pie? Oh, and muffins? And-"

"Yes, we can get your favourite fruit. We'll have to get a box of them because I don't think one of the bags will be enough for all of the baking you want to do." You laughed and went to wait in line. The large, well-stocked stand was the one you always went to and not because it was run by two good-looking men around your age.  They weren't just one of the sweetest couples you had ever met, they were your only friends who didn't live on the ranch. Not that you went on double dates or anything. It was just nice to have a conversation about something other than cows or horses occasionally.

"Violet!" The blue-eyed one grinned when he saw you. 

"Hi, Chris." You smiled at the dark-haired man. 

"It looks like I didn't beat the rush this time."

"No, you didn't." Mark, the blonde with green eyes, answered after coming over having finished with a customer. "But, we saved a box of the best back here for ya just in case. Aside from a couple of local restaurants, the ranch is one of our biggest customers. We gotta keep ya happy."

You laughed. "You two spoil us. Speaking of us, this is Tate. Tate this is Chris and Mark. They grow the best fruit and vegetables in Montana."

"Hi, do you have any more apples?"

"Sorry, but that was the last of them," Chris said of the case the woman in front of you was carrying away. 

Disappointment filled Tate's face. "Awe, we can't make pie and muffins tomorrow."

"We do have more on the farm though." Mark smiled at the little boy. "I'll make you a deal. I'll drop off some apples for you later today if you promise to bring us some baking next time you're in town."

"Really?!"

Chris chuckled. "Really."

You placed a hand on Tate's shoulder and looked at them. "You don't have to do that. We can get some next week."

"It's no problem at all. We don't have any other plans. A drive will be nice."

"Please, Violet?"

Your eyes went back to them and they nodded. "Okay."

"Yay! Oh, are you going to have pumpkins in the fall that we can carve?"

"We will," Chris said while Mark went to help a customer. "You can come out and pick the perfect one. We're also going to have a corn maze and other games. Plus, apple cider and all kinds of treats in the little shop on the farm." 

"Oh Violet, can we go?" Tate tugged on your arm. "Dad can come and we could do the maze and play all the games and try all the treats. Then we can get pumpkins to make Jack-o'-lanterns!"

A chuckle left your lips. "I think we can arrange that."

"Yay!" The brown-haired boy turned back to the dark-haired farmer. "Violet's dad's girlfriend. He really loves her, like a lot. All he does is stare at her when she's around."

"Tate." You scolded while Chris laughed. 

Tate looked up at you with a grin. "It's true." 

A light shade of red stained your cheeks as you pulled the credit card out of your bag. "Thanks for the vegetables. Tate, we better get moving. We have to stop at the grocery store next."

"Can we stop and get chicken nuggets for lunch after?"

"I think I could go for a burger."

"Yay!" 

"And, thank you for dropping the apples off later. You've made one little boy very happy."

"You are more than welcome. See ya, Violet. It was nice meeting you, Tate." Chris smiled. 

"Bye. I can take your bag for you." Tate offered so you handed it to him. After picking up the box of vegetables, you headed back to the truck. 

*

"You look amazing, like always." Chris grinned after getting out of his truck. "One of the restaurants in town looking for some vegetables." He said of Mark who was still buckled in and talking on his cell phone. 

"What the fuck?!" Kayce, who had been standing by the barn with Rip and Lloyd, pushed passed them and stormed over. 

You blushed while he pulled you into a hug. "Thanks."

"Get your fucking hands off her." Kayce yanked him away from you and punched him. 

"Kayce!"

He ignored you and hit him again. "You're not very bright, are you? Hitting on her when I'm standing right there!" 

"Kayce, stop!" You begged but he ignored you.

"I didn't-"

"Don't fucking lie to me! I heard you. I saw you!" He tackled Chris to the ground. "Stay the fuck away from her!" 

"Kayce. Kayce!" Rip called as he and Lloyd came running over and pulled him off of Chris. 

John came out onto the porch when he heard the commotion. "What the hell is going on out here?"

"This asshole was all over Violet!" Kayce pulled against Rip and Lloyd trying to get free. 

"No, he wasn't." You had tears in your eyes as you and Mark, who had just finished his call, helped Chris up. "I met him at the farmers market a couple of months ago. Tate saw the apples he was selling this morning and wanted some, but the person in front of us got the last of them. They had more at the farm and were nice enough to drop some off."

Kayce's face went white. The two farm hands let him go and his shoulders slumped. "Letty, I-"

"I'm sorry, Chris. I'm so sorry." 

"It's okay." He said with a soft smile. "I'll grab them. They're just in the back."

John came down the steps. "I'm sorry for my son's behaviour. We'll get them." He nodded to Rip and he went over and grabbed the box of apples out of the truck box. 

You handed Chris the money you owed him. "I'm really sorry."

"Don't worry about it."

"The apples look great." John held his hand out and Chris shook it. When they parted, the farmer found a hundred-dollar bill in his hand. He was about to hand the money back but John stopped him. "No, I insist. I'm sorry again and so is my son."

"Y-yeah. I'm sorry." Kayce apologized quietly. 

Chris nodded at him before giving your arm a squeeze. Mark did the same before they got in their truck.

The second they started driving away Kayce started walking up to you. "Letty."

You stepped back when he reached out for you, memories of Nick and his jealousy filling your head. "Gator wanted me to tell you that dinner's ready." A stray tear slid down your cheek as you turned and went inside. 

*

Everyone walked into the dining room while you set the last dish of food on the table. They sat down, joining Tate who had been upstairs washing his hands. 

You picked your plate and cutlery up off the table. "Hey, where are you going? Aren't you eating with us?" Tate asked. When his summer holidays started he insisted you start eating with them. The rest of the family had agreed so Tate picked your spot at the table, between him and Kayce.

"I'm not hungry. I'm going to get a head start on cleaning up so the kitchen will be ready for pie making tomorrow." He let out a cheer and you gave him a small smile before disappearing into the kitchen. 

After setting your clean dishes down, you gripped the edge of the countertop. Your mind was a mess as you stared at your reflection in the window. The darkening evening sky made it easy to see Kayce walk into the room. 

"Letty."

Your eyes went to your hands as he slowly made his way over, stopping behind you. 

"Letty, I'm sorry. I just heard him-then he touched you and-"

"I would never cheat on you." You stated quietly while continuing to stare at your fingers, which turned white from their grip on the countertop. 

"I know you wouldn't. I just...I'm scared." His hand hesitantly reached out, his fingers running down your arm. When you didn't pull away he closed the distance. "I'm scared you're going to find someone better. You're perfect and I'm...me. I have anger issues. I'm trying and failing at raising my kid. I love you so much it scares me. Tate loves you." His other hand went to your other arm and he leaned in, resting his forehead against the top of your head. "I'm sorry, baby. I'll do whatever you want me to. Please, forgive me."

You turned to face him. Your eyes didn't meet his though, they watched your fingers as they came up and fidgeted with one of the buttons on his shirt. 

"Letty?"

"Please...please, don't turn into him."

His hands came up and cupped your face. When he tilted it up he saw the tears pooling in your eyes. "Never, baby. Never." He leaned in and kissed you as a few tears spilled over. "I'll work on it, getting angry, jealous. I promise." You nodded. "And, I'll go into town tomorrow and apologize to him again."

A small smile pulled at your lips as you nodded again. "You should go eat before it gets cold."

"You're not going to?"

"I'm not that hungry. I'll grab something later."

"I'll grab something later too then. Do you want to wash or dry?" He grinned and picked up a dish towel. 

"Well, since you already have the towel, I'll wash." You turned and started filling the sink with water. Kayce's arm slid across your stomach and pulled you back against him. You stayed like that until the sink was full. 

After turning the tap off, he held you tighter. "I really am sorry."

"I know." Your hands slid across his arms before hugging them. "Chris and Mark know too. A few weeks ago when I saw them at the grocery store. We went for coffee while they were waiting to go to an appointment. They're really nice and they've heard about you and your family, the ranch. They know that you were in the Navy and about how much I mean to you." You looked at him in the reflection. "Mark used to be in the army so he knows that PTSD can affect you in different ways."

"Getting angry...I'm trying."

You leaned into him, "I know. You're doing a lot better."

"Except when it comes to you. What you've been through, your ex..." there was a tick in his jaw. "I promised to never let anything happen to you again. I just take it too far sometimes. I'm working on it. I really am trying."

You turned in his arms and wrapped yours around his neck. "I can tell. Everyone here can." Your lips pressed against his. "Now let's get these dishes done."

"Yes, ma'am." He said when you went back to facing the sink. He didn't move though. 

When his lips brushed against the spot where your neck and shoulder meet, you giggled. "Kayce."

He smiled against your skin. "Yes?"

"It's going to be pretty hard for you to dry these pots when you're standing there."

"I suppose you're right." His teeth gently nipped at the delicate spot and a small moan left your lips. He quickly spun you, crashing his lips against yours. When he pulled away the smirk that you loved spread across his face. 

You shoved him away with a giggle before focusing on washing the pots and pans Gator used to make dinner. Kayce settled in next to you, drying the dishes you set in front of him. A comfortable silence filled the room, only broken up by the conversations and laughter going on in the dining room. 

*

Once the dishes were done and dinner had been cleaned up, you went to the foreman's house. Tate had wanted to go to bed, even though there were still forty-five minutes before his usual bedtime. He was beyond excited about making pie for the first time and wanted to go to bed early so tomorrow would be here sooner. While Kayce tucked him into bed and read him a story, you went to wait for him in his bedroom. 

"Baby?"

You could hear the door shut behind him so, after turning the water off for the bathtub, you stepped out of the bathroom wearing nothing but one of his shirts. 

His eyes slowly drank you in. "Damn, you look good." 

A light shade of red crept across your cheeks as he closed the distance between you in two long strides. You unbuttoned his shirt and pushed it off his shoulders to the floor, followed quickly by his jeans. All while your lips stayed glued to his. 

His hands ran up your thighs and when he got to your hips they paused, finding no underwear to pull down. He smirked against your mouth before picking you up and carrying you to bed. 

"Mmm," you hummed as he kissed his way down your neck. Your hands found his waist and started to tug on the waistband of his boxers. 

After what he said to you in the kitchen about not turning into your ex and knowing he meant it, you needed him. And, he needed you just as bad. Once his boxers were down far enough he thrust into you. You gasped at the sudden fullness and when he did it again your eyes closed. "Oh, god."

His teeth bit down on your shoulder as he continued to move in and out of you. It wasn't long before your back started to arch off the bed as he kept hitting just the right spot over and over again. As you started to fall over the edge his lips met yours, swallowing your breathy moan and you melted into each other, falling together. 

Once your racing heartbeat returned normal, you slid out from under him and got off the bed. 

"No," he groaned and grabbed your hand. "I mean, the view is amazing but..." Your cheeks darkened and he grinned, sliding to the edge of the bed and pulling you onto his lap. "God, you're adorable."

"Stop." You turned and buried your face into his shoulder while the shade of red on your cheeks got even brighter. 

"Never," his chest vibrated with a chuckle. 

"Come have a bath with me?"

"I'm not much of a bath person but if you're in there with me I think I can make an exception. Lead the way, beautiful."

You slid your hand into his and made your way into the bathroom. "When I filled it I used scalding water so it should have cooled off enough by now." He got into the still bubbly water and you sunk across from him, closing your eyes. 

"Letty?"

"Hmm?" You opened your eyes when he stayed quiet. "Hey," after seeing his glassy eyes you went over and straddled his lap, taking his face in your hands, "what is it? What's wrong?"

"Why- I keep fucking up but you keep staying. You are goddamn perfect and could easily get any man you wanted. Why do you stay with me? After what happened before dinner-"

Seeing him so down made your heartache. "Because you are an amazing man and an even better father. Kayce, Tate looks up to you more than you know. He always talks about how much fun he has when he gets to help you around the ranch. He wants to be the foreman just like you when he grows up." Your thumbs ran along his jaw. "You went through a lot in the Navy, saw a lot. It changes a person. I didn't know you before you enlisted. I know you now. I fell in love with the man who came back from the war, with who you are today." He looked down, still ashamed. You tilted his head back so he would look at you. "You make me happy. You make me feel safe. There is no one else in the world I would rather be with. We can and we will get through anything. I love you, Kayce." 

"I am not worthy of you." 

A smile formed, "It's a good thing you're wrong and I'm right."

"You think so?" He finally smiled back, a small one but it was still there.

"I know so."

His arms engulfed you and crushed you against him. "I love you, Violet."

"I know. I love you." When he let you go you slid back to your spot. "Do you have a lot of work to do tomorrow? Tate wants to make pie and muffins. Mark and Chris said they would drop the apples off in exchange for some baking." 

"The farmers market is done at 2:00 pm, I'll have my stuff done by then. The three of us could go into town. Maybe go for coffee with them after? Tate keeps talking about the new playground they built by the farmers market."

You smiled, "Tate would love that. Chris and Mark would too." 

He nodded before finally lying back and relaxing, his fingers going back to mindlessly running up and down your knee. "I could get used to this. It's actually pretty nice." 

"I told you it wasn't that bad."

"You're right again." His crooked smile formed.

You watched him as he closed his eyes and rested his head back, admiring not only how handsome he was but how great of a person he was. Most men wouldn't have talked about their feelings like he did let alone go have coffee and talk to the man they just attacked. Whether he believed it or not, he was an amazing man and you were the luckiest woman in the world.

___________________________________________

Tag List: @alisbackalleybbq @a-beaverhausen @chloe-skywalker @wabi-sabi1090 @saintnourah

If you want to be added to the list just let me know :)

[thicccshady]

Stock Up For My Bitches (Relax Part Two)🍫

Eminem X Reader

✨️MasterList✨️

PART ONE Relax

Content: Fluff, Cursing, New Relationship

Marshall slouched into the interview chair like it personally offended him. His eyes half-lidded in deliberate disinterest as the interviewer clasped her hands together with a too-sunny smile. Marshall shifted in his chair. How the hell are you supposed to comfortably sit in a director-style chair? His fingers lightly drummed on his legs as he waited for the sound crew to finish adjusting equipment. The woman sat across from him wore a cheesy smile, showing a few too many teeth. The interview had just started, but he found her irritating beyond belief.  Her well-rehearsed questions seemed to lack any depth. Maybe he was just tired of interviews altogether. 

The studio crew moved around quietly, clearly wary of the tension. Marshall’s energy could flip like a switch, and today, he looked like he was ready to burn the whole place down just for fun.

“Alrighty! Are we ready to continue?” She looked towards the crew waiting for confirmation. Somehow her smile widened even more. Marshall secretly wondered how little it would take for her smile to practically reach her earlobes. 

“Eminem, fans are absolutely ecstatic for this Friday’s album release. Your Slim Shady persona has been the target of controversy the past few years. Should we expect to see more of his infamous behavior or has Slim settled down.”

Marshall remained deadpan almost bored, “Shady will be Shady. I’m not gonna change my style or whatever. I mean, anyone who hears an Eminem tape should know what they are getting into. It’s like, I’m not going to censor my music to keep people happy. You don’t like it, don’t’ listen. It’s like, if I don’t like you, I won’t fucking listen either, you know what I mean. I don’t really give a fuck.” He licked his lips and started up again, “Someone has to be a role model for the kids. Y’know what I mean?”

“Yes, well. How about we shift gears.” The interviewers shuffled through some notecards. Pausing her expression grew mischievous. She flipped around a photo for Marshall to see. “It seems you did some shopping the other day. Your unique selection of groceries has left fans wondering, who could those feminine products and chocolate be for?”

Without missing a beat, Marshall clearly answered, “Those are for me. And Dre has a sweet tooth. Gets grumpy without his sugar. And I was low on wings, you know what I mean?” Clearly amused with himself he gestured with his hands like a bird flying away.

The interviewer chuckled slightly, uncomfortable. “You bought those pads for yourself?” 

“What? I gotta be prepared. Shit happens quickly.” After a brief pause, he continued to troll her, “I can’t buy fucking pads? You think Slim Shady doesn’t deserve to feel fresh and protected? Shit… that’s discrimination.”

Her face almost glitching, the interviewer was determined to get a big secret out of Marshall, “Seriously, Eminem-“

“Nah, fine. You got me.” She leaned closer into his words. “I like to stock up for my bitches y’know. I’m just thoughtful like that.” He turned towards the camera making eye contact with the lens. “Ladies, if you bleed on my couch, you will get fucked up. Alright… No bleeding.” He continued staring. His eyes appeared ready to pop out of his head. 

The interviewer cleared her throat. “What everyone wants to know is, do you have someone special in your life.”

“My right hand.” Marshall almost smiled but caught himself.

At home, Y/N sat curled up on the couch, her face buried in a pillow as she cringed at the TV. "Oh… my god, Marshall..." she muttered, though she couldn’t stop laughing. Apparently, modern chivalry meant making a dickhead of yourself on national television. She couldn’t wait for Marshall to come over later.

---

Later that day, Y/N heard a knock a familiar knock on the door, a unique knock Marshall always did when he came over. “Come in!” she shouted from the couch. The door creaked open, and Marshall stepping inside, was still grinning, the adrenaline from the interview still coursing through him. His hood was up, and his eyes had that glint of mischief that was all too familiar. 

As soon as he stepped into the room, Y/N looked up from her book, her eyes lighting up at the sight of him.

“Hey, you,” she said, smiling warmly. "How do you feel that went?" She sat up a little and sat down her book. "Sounded like a nice Slim Shady interview from what I caught on TV. Although I always pegged him as a tampon type of gal.”

He rolled his eyes, his grin widening as he dropped onto the couch next to her. “Mm, you know how it is. Same old shit.” He nudged her gently, his voice dropping into a mock-serious tone. “Got ‘em all convinced I’m some sort of ladies’ man now.”

Y/N laughed, her eyes glinting with humor. “Oh, really? So, who are all these bitches you bring home, huh?” she teased, arching an eyebrow.

Marshall froze for a second, his mind briefly spinning, the question catching him off guard. He hadn’t expected her to bring this up—hell, they hadn’t even really talked about what they were, what this was between them. He had no idea how to respond. His usual response to awkwardness was humor, but for some reason, this one felt different. 

Without saying a word, he pointed to the reflection in the living room mirror, where they both appeared, Y/N’s head resting comfortably on his shoulder. He didn’t need to say anything more—he let his gesture speak for itself.

Y/N blinked, her heart fluttering in her chest at the quiet, unspoken answer. Taken aback for a moment, neither of them spoke. Her eyes flicked between him and their reflection. Her smile softened. The teasing in her eyes faded into something more complex. “Just me, huh?” she asked quietly, her voice tinged with something more vulnerable than usual.

Marshall nodded slowly, his hand brushing against hers, his earlier bravado fading into something more sincere. "Yah. Just you." He swallowed hard, suddenly feeling the weight of the moment. It was like they were both seeing something clearer now, a realization settling in that neither of them had dared to voice before.

Y/N swallowed, the lightheartedness from before slipping away. She shifted slightly, her fingers intertwining with his. “So, what is this, then? What are we doing, Marshall?” The words felt heavy, and for the first time in a while, she wasn’t sure where they stood. Were they just casually hanging out, or was there more to it? She needed to know, needed clarity, but the words didn’t come out easily. “I know you like to keep things light, keeps it casual. And I… I’ve been kinda the same. But after everything... the way you’ve been with me, the stuff you did today... I just—”

“I know,” Marshall interrupted softly, his voice a little quieter than usual. He sat staring ahead for a moment, as if the answer was hiding on the wall. “I don’t know. We’ve been goin’ on dates for a while, and I’m not gonna lie, it’s… it’s been different, I guess? But I never really thought about what that meant. Not that I didn’t wanna think about it,” he added quickly, looking at her now, his eyes meeting hers for the first time in a while. “It’s just, you know, with everything else... shit gets complicated.”

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat at his honesty, but the uncertainty was still there, lingering in the air like an invisible weight. “So, we’re not—" She hesitated. “We’re not exclusive, then? I mean, you don’t even know if you want to be... Marshall, what are we doing here?”

He sighed, running his hand over his face, frustration creeping into his voice. “I don’t know what I want. I’ve been trying to figure it out, okay? I’m not good at this shit. But I know I want you, Y/N. I just... I don’t know how to fucking say it without sounding like a damn idiot.”

Y/N bit her lip, feeling the tension building between them, she moved her hand away from his. The awkwardness of the conversation made everything feel rawer, more real. “That doesn’t make you an idiot, Marshall. It’s just... we’ve been having fun, and I like you a lot, but I don’t know where I stand. I don’t wanna be just someone you come to when it’s convenient.”

He stared at her for a moment, his usual dry humor gone, replaced with something much more serious. “Look, I get it. I’m not the best at... fuck, whatever we’re calling this, but I don’t want anyone else. If you’re asking if I want to see other people, the answer’s no. I’ve been trying to figure it out—trying to figure this all out, really—but you’re the only one I want.” The honesty of Marshalls words seemed to surprise himself.

Y/N let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. The awkwardness hadn’t gone away, but the tension had shifted. “So, that’s it then?” she asked quietly. “You and me, exclusive?” 

Marshall nodded slowly, the weight of his words sinking in. “Yeah. I think so. I mean, we don’t have to call it anything if you don’t want to. But... I’m done with the whole game. It’s just you, if you want it.”

She studied him for a moment, her lips curling into a small, soft smile. Sliding closer to him, the space between them disappeared. “I want it,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. 

Marshall leaned in slowly, his eyes meeting hers, a hint of the usual mischief returning to his face. “Yeah?” He raised an eyebrow, testing the waters. “So you’re officially my bitch?”

Y/N chuckled, the awkwardness slipping away just a little. “Nah, I think that interview proves you’re my bitch.” She reached out and pulled him closer, kissing him gently on the lips. Her chest tightened with emotion. She cupped his face gently, her thumb brushing against his cheek. “You’re such an idiot,” she teased lightly, but there was a depth in her words. “But you’re a sweet idiot.”

A genuine smile spread across his face, and he leaned forward, his forehead resting against hers. “Just me and you?”

Y/N nodded, the certainty in her heart echoing in her voice. “Just us. And I’ll take it, Marshall. All the messy, complicated, weird parts of you... and maybe I’ll even buy some pads and chocolate for you.”

Marshall snorted, his smile widening. “Oh, trust me. I’m never forgettin’ that again. You’ve got me wrapped around your finger, Y/N.” Pulling away to look at her, Marshall breathed out a relieved laugh. “You know, you make me sound like a shithead.”

Y/N smiled, her hand now resting on his chest. “I’ll make you a deal,” she said softly. “If you keep being honest with me, we’ll be alright.”

Marshall’s grin widened, the tension in his body finally easing. “Deal.” He whispered. Marshall shifted his head to rest against hers, the familiar weight of her presence settling him in a way he hadn’t expected. “Yeah,” he murmured, his voice softer than usual. “Yeah, we’re gonna be alright.” 

✨️Want to know when I post? Click here to join my taglist!✨️

A/N: Big shoutout to @tomdayaloveforever for the inspiration for this! I'll admit, releasing this before Your Biggest Fan Part 2 was diabolical of me. I hear y'all. It is coming so so soon! <3

@crazycat-ladys-blog@ @tomdayaloveforever@ @4-ln4@ @hereforfun-31@ @watercolorskyy@ @anjee0@ @80sprincess1@ @sweetmusicvoid@ @viktoriya2008@ @confiaenanaa@ @nebulamorada@ @darkstarfishbird@

[fantasticallyfruity4]

You know how people have started telling their kids “if you get lost go find a goth/punk person” bc (rightfully so) like this wild cultural shift has led to us being seen as safe, trustworthy responsible ppl?

Okay

Well

It got me thinking about punk Steve (again. Of corse) and this being a single dad! Eddie steddie meet cute.

I don’t know what’s funnier. Eddie telling little Max and Dustin that if they get lost they should look for someone who looks like him/his friends, someone goth/punk/metal. Or his kids doing it on their own volition. Bc the housewives with their little strollers always give their dad dirty looks and mean sneers in the grocery store but the people who look like their dad and his friends are always nice to him.

However it goes, one day Steve’s at the super market and he feels a small hand tug on the bottom of his battle jacket and a small voice say “excuse me mister?”

And he looks down and this little pippy long stockings kid is looking up at him with a wobbly lip and tears in her eyes and he’s like instantly on alarm and panicked.

“Hey friend, what’s wrong? Are you okay? Where’s your mom?”

“I got lost and I can’t find my daddy and my brother”

“Hey, that’s okay, we’ll find them together. Insta gonna be okay. What do they look like?”

“Uuuh. My daddy looks like you. But with more hair”. And Steve snorts a laugh because yup, that makes sense. Usually parents tell their kids to stay a million miles away from him at all times. Corse this kid is a punks baby. “What’s your bother look like? He got hair like you? What’s his name?”

“Dustin. He’s got brown hair and a big dumb hat”.

Steve snorts. “Think your funny?”

And the little girl giggles. Cool. Good. Mission accomplished.

“So we’re looking for dad and Dustin. Dustin’s got a big dumb hat and dads wearing a jacket like me, yeah?” And she nods. Cool. Okay that’s easy to find. “And what’s your name?” “I’m max”. “That’s a cool name max. I’m steve”

And so Steve and the little girl make a couple laps around the grocery store calling out for Dustin, and finally, finally, they hear panting and squeaking rubber and “max! Oh my god max! You scared the crap out of me!” And this- oh. This gorgeous metal head is running up to the girl and pulling her into his arms, mumbling a string of “don’t scare me like that again” and “I’m sorry baby I’m so sorry baby” and “I was worried sick”.

Sure enough there’s a little kid, bout the same height as max in a big dumb hat next to him.

Metal head dilf finally puts max down whose now hugging dustin who looks just as distraught at their dad was, and the metal head finally takes Steve in.

A glint catches in his eyes.

“You find this nice man to help you?” He asks. And she nods.

“Oh man, thank you so much I’m so sorry for the trouble” he apologizes. Steve just chuckles. “Hey it’s okay, I’m just glad we found you guys. Was getting worried for a few there. I’m Steve” Eddie takes the hand Steve extended. “I’m Eddie, I swear to god I don’t usually loose my kids” and steve laughs. “Hey, it happens to everyone, don’t sweat it. She’s okay, you’re okay, everything’s alright, yeah?”

“I still feel so horrible for the trouble. Is there anything I can do? Please let me atleats buy you a coffee”

Steve looks at his watch. He wishes he could. “I’ve gotta get to work, im really sorry, im already cutting it close since, you know” “oh, oh my god im so so sorry”

Listen. Listen. Steve’s no saint. And there is clearly a lack of a wedding band on this guys hand and 99% of the time if a kid is at a grocery store it’s with their mom. And some of those patches-

Steve’s gotta try.

“Hey, I really have to jet but um, here’s my number. Make good on that coffee some other time?”

“Yeah, yeah absolutely! Absolutely. Thank you, so much again. You’re a lifesaver Steve” Eddie smiles taking the small paper Steve just wrote his number on. (A cocktail napkin from a gay club in indie he just happened to have in his pocket, a god ordained way of making sure they were both on the same page.

[harpersdragons]

Theft in the Family...By Jason Todd, CHapter 5!

Finally finals are over and my self imposed writing ban is lifted, so enjoy the longer than usual chapter!

I'm not even a little sorry about the cliff hanger

Jason knows they aren’t safe where they are, he should probably move safehouses every day.

But—

But Damian slept most of the next day, only waking up briefly to eat and let Jason check his head wound. It made sense he would be tired, yesterday was stressful and he’s injured. Jason doesn’t want to wake him up just to take another convoluted route to another safehouse.

Hell, he doesn’t even have that many safehouses to burn!

He can’t keep using Bruce’s, someone will catch on, and Jason doesn’t believe for a second he could actually outsmart Bruce’s system, or Barbara when Bruce inevitably gets her to check it.

There’s not a lot of food, since Bruce only keeps these safehouses stocked with emergency rations, there’s no perishables and barely any dishes.

He’ll probably need to make a grocery run soon, but he really doesn’t want to wake the kid. Besides, it’ll have hit the news by now that Bruce’s newest son is missing, and leaving will just draw attention to them. He can’t go out as Phoenix, Damian can’t go out as himself.

Seems like there’s only one solution.

_________________________________________________

Bruce nearly collapses onto the couch in the middle of Phoenix’s apartment, the photo of his son and Talia clutched in his hand.

The apartment had been vacated by the time they got there, with no clues as to where they had gone next.

Damian’s probably 3 or 4 in the picture, grinning wildly at his mother.

He can’t lose another son.

He’s only known Damian for a few weeks, but he can’t lose him.

“C’mon, B, we gotta get out of here.” Dick pulls him off the couch and leads him towards the door. “We’ll get Dames back, but that won’t happen if you just sit here.”

He lets Dick lead him out, TIm following shortly after.

When they all pile into one of Bruce’s cars, Tim speaks up. “So…I may have planted a few bugs.”

“Tim—”

“Hear me out. We didn’t take anything, we left something. Ergo, it’s not illegal. I connected them to Babs’ system.”

“That’s not how the law works.” Dick facepalms.

"We're literally vigilantes! We break the law all the time, is this really the hill you want to die on?"

Bruce lets the boys’ bickering fade into the background.

He doesn’t remember the drive home.

He does remember the pounding his chest.

He remembers the spike of panic in his chest

What if they don’t find Damian?

Or worse, what if they do, but he chooses to stay with Phoenix?

Dick had mentioned he asked to go with the crime lord.

He can’t lose another son

He can’t be too late

Alfred makes them all go up to bed as soon as they get home (they may have been out all night searching Gotham), despite their protests.

A few hours later, after his short nap, Bruce makes his way down to the cave.

He pulls Tim’s mask footage, replaying the interaction between him and Phoenix without audio. He can still tell what’s going on pretty easily. As soon as Tim lands on the scene, Phoenix shifts to put his body between Tim and Damian.

At some point, when Bruce can only assume Tim is demanding the crime lord hand Damian over, Phoenix protectively tucks Damian further into his cape.

His youngest son looks sluggish almost, barely moving through the whole interaction. Dick had mentioned that, but seeing it was another story. It’s entirely different from how he’s been acting, even when Damian was exhausted, he never showed it.

Bruce flips through the footage over and over again, frame by frame.

He analyzes Phoenix’s posture, the way he effortlessly cradles Damian.

Eventually, he turns on the audio and lets it play through at his normal speed.

All seemed normal, until—

Until he could just barely pick up Damian’s sleepy voice.

“Incoming, Akhi.” Damian’s words are slurred, and his head barely shifts, but his eyes are trained in one direction.

Bruce stills, replaying the moment in hopes he’ll hear something different.

It’s not different, he didn’t hear wrong.

Akhi.

Not only does Damian know his kidnapper, he apparently asked to be taken (according to Phoenix, anyway, Bruce isn’t entirely sure how much he trusts that), he’s close to his kidnapper.

Close enough to call him brother.

Bruce has already had his suspicions, but this just confirms it.

The league has his son.

Again.

And if Damian is close enough to Phoenix to call him brother, Bruce may not get him back.

He can’t lose another son.

_________________________________________________

Jason waits until it’s well after dark to enact his plan.

The Bats will surely be on patrol, scouring the city for Damian, but as long as he doesn’t wear his gear, they shouldn’t look twice at him.

He just needs to run into Crime Alley and grab his and Damian’s old League gear (don’t ask him why he has it, Talia shoved a bag into his hands and said not to ask questions).

It should be simple, but if he’s not in gear he can’t grapple across the city—even if he did, it would take hours—so, he needs a car.

And he knows just how to get one.

_________________________________________________

Dick is perfectly fine.

No really, he is.

He’s used to his brothers going missing.

He’s used to hostage situations, kidnappings, attempted murders.

All part of the job.

Hell, that’s part of life as a high profile celebrity.

So Dick is 100% fine. He can deal.

He’s definitely not driving himself insane looking for his baby brother, who is currently being held captive by a crime lord and possible league assassin.

They’ve been working in shifts to find him, starting after Alfred forced them to take a nap. Currently it’s Tim, Steph, and Cass’ turn to scour the city. He and Bruce took the late afternoon shift, right after they woke up and ate enough to satisfy Alfred.

Bruce is manning the comms, technically still “resting”, and Dick is definitely not pacing the cave.

He’s pacing the manor, instead.

A few backflips later, and Alfred banned him from the manor until he’s burned off his restless energy.

Although, he’s still banned from patrolling until the current vigilantes come back.

Bruce is sitting just where Dick left him, glaring at the Batcomputer.

Dick comes to a stop in the middle of the cave, staring at the wall.

“Do you think, maybe we should call the Justice League in for this?” He calls, not bothering to look at Bruce.

“Hn.” Bruce grunts in response, as articulate as ever.

“I mean, after what happened the last time one of us was taken by a crime lord…”

“Dick.”

“I’m just saying! We need to find him, B, and the Justice League, or at least Superman, would probably be helpful!”

“Barbara called the Birds of Prey. That’s enough people searching for him.”

Dick whirls around, stalking towards the computer. “Do you even care? Because it doesn’t seem like you do. I mean, I know he was only here for a couple of weeks, but c’mon Bruce! He’s your son! You’ve barely spent time with him, and now you don’t even seem to care that he was taken!”

“Of course I care, Dick, he’s my son. I’m doing everything I can to find him.”

“Not everything.” Dick scoffs—though he grabs a cookie from the tray on the desk— and spins on his heel again, heading towards the training area. He has some acrobatic equipment there, and flying should burn off this energy.

Bruce must have looked up to see where he was going, or maybe to continue their argument, because he calls out, “Safety net, Dick.”

“Fuck off.”

“Richard.”

Dick waves a hand over his shoulder, disappearing into the sectioned off training area.

He makes sure his safety net is set up properly (not because Bruce told him to, but he’s not an idiot) before climbing to the platform.

He leaps, grabbing the trapeze bar, then twisting and hooking his legs. He lets himself dangle upside down for several moments, the bar swinging back and forth, before he rights himself and builds momentum to jump to the next bar.

He loses track of time going through a simple routine.

He leaps and flips through the air, hangs upside down, does handstands on the bar.

And still, the buzzing, restless energy is there.

Usually trapeze settles him, the freefall and head rush from being upside calms something in him, in a way not much else can.

But this time it didn’t work.

He makes his way back over to the platform, landing in a salute on instinct. He cocks his head in thought, learning a new skill could focus him enough to burn off the extra energy.

He’s been wanting to learn aerial silks, and they have the supplies to do it.

Bruce had bought all kinds of equipment when Dick moved in, he wasn’t quite sure what Dick would want to practice on when he was younger.

He’s seen aerial silk performances, watched videos on how to do beginner moves. He’s fairly confident he can figure this out.

With a plan in mind, he sets about taking down the trapezes, unclipping them and letting them fall to the safety net below. Once that’s done, he unclips the net itself, as it’s not necessary for the silks. He can practice pretty low to the ground, besides, they have thick mats on the ground for a reason.

He checks the silks themselves and makes sure they’re still sturdy, then goes about securing them.

Finally ready to begin, he thinks through the motions he’d seen people do in the videos.

…and when he tries them he promptly falls on his face.

Again

And again

And again

Just as he thinks he’s finally starting to get the basic locks, the alarm rings through the cave.

Dick untangles himself from the silks (if he gets more tangled in the process, that’s between him and the empty room) and jogs out of the training area. He can just barely see Bruce disappearing up the stairs.

So not a bat emergency.

...Probably

He glances between the stairs and the computer, ultimately deciding to see whatever triggered the lock down procedure.

No use barging upstairs completely unprepared for whatever situation is there.

On the computer, security footage is frozen on a single frame.

A man, dressed in cargo pants and an oversized hoodie (impressive, considering the man is close to Bruce’s size), with dark hair and a startlingly white streak falling over his forehead.

Part of his face is obscured by a domino mask, and clearly a good quality one at that.

He’s standing in front of the Murcielago, flipping off the camera, and a wild grin splits his face.

There’s a stack of tires in the corner behind him, tire iron gripped in the hand not flipping the camera off.

The weird thing is (even weirder that is), the footage is dated to 2 hours ago.

That shouldn’t be possible.

Bruce has an absurd amount of alarms and sensors all around the manor, it should have alerted the second it picked up on an unrecognized presence.

Dick rushes upstairs to the garage, and he finds Bruce standing in an empty parking spot. There’s keys scattered on the ground, the board that usually holds them has been tossed carelessly across the floor. Most of the cars are untouched, except for the missing one and the Murcielago. It’s missing its tires, but the thief didn’t actually take them. They’re stacked up on the wall behind the car, just like they appeared on the footage.

Bruce isn’t even looking at his car though, focused solely on the missing one.

Dick catalogs the cars present, running them against the ones he knew should be there.

Jason’s car.

The thief stole the car Bruce meant to give to Jason for his 16th birthday.

_________________________________________________

Just before Jason steps out the door to “his” (Bruce’s) safehouse, grapple hooked on his belt (you think he’s walking all the way to the manor? Fuck no. the safehouse is close, but not that close), the lights flicker, and a speaker crackles.

Jason freezes, eyes flicking over to Damian’s sleeping form.

The kid didn’t stir, and nothing else seems out of place.

His hand creeps over to the gun strapped to his thigh, before a voice filters through the speaker.

“Jason Peter Todd!” A familiar voice shouts.

Barbara. Of course.

He’d foolishly assumed she’d left Gotham, or was otherwise out of the vigilante game.

Nope.

She’d just moved to behind the scenes.

“...Are we gonna have a problem, Barbie?”

“Oh, we already have a problem. Multiple of them, actually.”

“Right. Could we discuss this later? I have shit to do.”

“Nope. Sit your ass down.” Her voice is still too loud, he can see Damian start to shift in his sleep.

“Only if you lower the voice. If you wake Damian up, we’re gonna have a whole separate problem.”

“Is that seriously your only concern?” Despite the disdain dripping from her voice, she does speak softer.

Jason sits on the couch, fiddling with the blanket covering Damian.

“The kid’s got a concussion, it’s much more pleasant for us all if he sleeps it off.”

“Fine.” She pauses, taking a breath before continuing, “Why didn’t you tell anyone you were alive?”

“What, you mean when I came back? Or when I woke up.”

“Either, both. We would have helped you, Jason.”

“Well, Talia picked me up, and I didn’t really have a way to contact you. Nor did I want to. When I came back, I told Alfred when I dropped the kid off. No one else needed to know.”

“Jay…”

“I’m doing perfectly fine on my own, Barbie. I don’t need your pity.” He stands, heading for the door. “If that’s all, I have shit to do.”

“Sit back down, I’m not done.”

“Well hurry up, then.”

“Why did you take Damian?”

“Y’mean besides the fact he asked me to?” Jason shrugs, “I missed the kid, Bruce clearly isn’t paying enough attention to him. My kid, my rules.”

“He’s not your kid, though.”

“May as well be.”

Damian wakes up, then, “Akhi?” The word slurs sleepily, and something in Jason softens.

“Hey, Habibi.” He strides back over to the couch. “How’s your head feeling?”

Damian shrugs, reaching for him.

“Well that’s descriptive, Princeling.” Jason obliges him, scooping the kid up and settling him on his hip. “Y’hungry? You slept through dinner.” There’s not much here, but he found some cans of soup.

He distantly hears Barbara coo through the speaker, and flips off the room behind him. There’s a camera somewhere, she’ll get the message.

Damian shakes his head before resting it on Jason’s shoulder.

“Well ya gotta eat somethin’, kid.”

“Clearly you two are fine. Want some help with whatever plan you have concocted?” Babs speaks again.

Jason smirks, carrying Damian to the kitchen and setting him in a chair. “Wanna help me fuck with Bruce?”

“...That depends. What’s the plan?”

“I need an agreement you won’t rat me out to the old man. I don’t want him to know where I am, or that I’m alive.”

“I’ll agree, on the condition you tell him eventually. And that you return Damian or work out a custody agreement.”

“Barbie...you know he doesn't want me there. It's better for all involved if he doesn't know I'm alive."

"I have no clue where you got that stupid ass idea," He can hear her digh on the other line, "Problem for another day. If you want my help, I need you to agree to my terms."

"...Fine. Deal.” Jason is not pouting. He's above that.

“Ok then. What’s the plan?”

Jason talks her through the plan, and where she would come in while he ladles some soup into a bowl for Damian. He can’t completely overwrite the security system, or loop it like she can.

Once he has Babs’ agreement, and Damian is fed (and quickly falling back asleep), Jason gets ready to head out again.

“Ok, Dames, I have to go out for a bit. I should be back in about an hour and a half, two hours tops. Will you be ok on your own?”

Damian just nods his agreement, and Jason takes him back to the bedroom to sleep some more.

Once he’s thrown on a domino mask, dark oversized hoodie and cargo pants, Babs hacks his phone and puts her number in it, along with a message.

You can enter as normal, your access was never erased. I’ll cover your tracks, loop the cameras, and make sure you don’t trigger the sensors.

Jason smirks, and begins the journey towards Wayne Manor.

He’s lost some time due to Barbara’s delay, but hopefully he’ll still be able to get through his plan.

Once he finally arrives at the gate, he enters his code and watches as the buzzer turns green, the gates opening slowly.

Jason grins, and makes his way towards the manor.

His original goal was just to take a car, but now that he’s here…

May as well have more fun than that.

First stop: Bruce’s bedroom.

He needs to get his baby brother’s book back.

He still can’t believe Bruce took that from him, he never once took Jason’s books when he was younger, but the one time Damian is reading one of Jason’s books, there’s a problem.

No matter, Jason will just steal his book back.

Thankfully, the tree he always used to sneak in and out (usually unsuccessfully, but only due to the sensors in the yard. This time, he has Barbara covering for him) is still there, and he’s able to scale it and make his way into his old bedroom.

From there, it’s easy to make it down the hall without being seen.

He cracks the door quietly, resolutely not thinking about how familiar the action is, from all the times he’d sought comfort from Bruce at night.

He doesn’t get that anymore.

He never will, and he’s accepted that.

…hasn’t he?

Jason shakes the thoughts off as he crosses the threshold of the room.

The book is pretty easy to find, it’s just sitting on Bruce’s nightstand.

Jason grabs it, taking a second to read some of his old annotations.

Bruce’s bed is as comfortable as Jason remembers, and it’s a battle to stand up and walk out.

Maybe he could come home?

The Bruce he remembered would welcome him.

But—

I’m not your father. I don’t have time for your teenage rebellion

No.

Jason doesn’t need him.

He’s here for a reason, anyway.

Shaking his head to clear the thoughts, Jason forces himself to leave the room, to leave his fath-- Bruce behind.

It’s a bit more risky to get to the garage, he has to stay in the open a lot longer than the short path from his old room to Bruce’s. If he miscalculated, or just spent too long talking with Barbara, and the bats are already back from patrol, he could get caught.

He forces himself to walk slowly, paying attention to make sure there is no one around the corners.

All his caution is futile though, as he passes Bruce’s study, Alfred appears in his path. Both of them freeze, and Jason opens his mouth to stay something. His jaw snaps shut at a raised eyebrow from him, and Alfred extends a tray full of various snacks towards him.

Jason tentatively snags a cookie off the tray and starts walking past him. Alfred nods once, and continues into the study.

The rest of the way to the garage is clear, thankfully.

Jason tucks the book into a pocket in his cargo pants—thankfully this copy is a small paperback, not the larger hardback like the first edition in the library—and heads over to the wall of keys.

The choice is pretty easy, he wants to fuck with Bruce as much as possible.

He grabs the keys for the red Toyota Camry, specifically the car Bruce was set to give Jason for his 16th birthday. The car they picked out together.

He pockets the keys, and just before he’s about to turn and leave, an idea strikes him. A small smirk spreads across his face, as he grabs the edge of the boarding holding the keys, and tosses it across the ground. The keys scatter, like intended.

With that handled, there’s only one more thing he needs to do before heading back to Damian.

He finds a tire iron in a nearby tool cabinet, and spins it casually as he walks towards Bruce’s favorite car: the Lamborghini Murcielago.

Because of course the fucker had to go with a car that means bat in spanish.

Jackass.

For an expensive car, the tires are pretty easy to steal. Bruce should work on that, you’d think he learned after a little punk stole his tires the first time.

He gets the tires off quickly, and rolls them to the side.

He grins, turning to one of the cameras in the garage, and flips it off.

Dropping the tire iron to the ground, he heads back to the camry.

He has a kid to get back to.

By the time Jason is pulling up to the safehouse again, Babs has dealt with covering his tracks and sending the footage to Bruce.

The sky is starting to lighten, the sun not quite rising yet.

There’s a bag of food sitting on the front step, and he scoops that up on his way in. He sets it on the counter and peels his domino mask off, then pulls Pride and Prejudice out of his pocket.

He runs his fingers through his hair as he heads to the bedroom to check on Damian, exhaustion weighing on him.

Only, when he opens the door, Damian is nowhere to be found.

The sheets are rumpled, there’s an indent on the pillow where Damian was sleeping.

But the kid is nowhere in sight.

Jason’s heart drops, chest constricting as he tears through the rest of the house.

There’s not much ground to cover, but the conclusion is the same.

Damian is gone.

[kaydens-agere]

Peter's Grocery Store || Regressing Peter Parker/Spider-Man & Caregiver Wade Wilson/Deadpool

Under the cut!! I might make a moodboard or smth for this later instead of the gifs but I wanted to get this posted cuz I'm very excited about it and its something my little has wanted for ages so here yall go :P

After a very long day of fighting bad guys, Wade is finally home. He takes his mask off as he opens the door to see Peter, carefully lining up an array of items from around the house on the coffee table. He has his fluffy blue blanket wrapped around him, a telltale sign that he's little. Peter looks up as Wade walks in and grins.

"Hi, Daddy." he says quietly as he puts a packet of lunchables on the table.

"Hey bub, what'cha up to?" Wade sets his mask and duffel bag down, smiling gently at Peter, with makes him blush and giggle.

"Making my grocery store!" he replies proudly with a big smile.

"Your grocery store, huh? I dunno if we have the funds for that, Petey-pie." Wade quickly scoops him up, earning a squeal and a giggle from Peter.

"Hey, I'm busy!" Peter nuzzles himself into Wade's arms, despite grumbling and pouting about being picked up.

"Alright, alright. I'll put'ya down." Wade sets Peter back down and lightly kisses his forehead.

"What's for sale in the grocery store of yours, anyway?"

Peter gives Wade a mischievous grin but doesn't answer the question. Wade inspects the table to see what Peter is selling.

"Hey, this is just stuff from around our house, bud." he ruffles his hair.

"Yeah, well, you'll have to buy it back" Peter sticks out his tongue in return.

Wade lovingly rolls his eyes and snorts. He peers into the bag that Peter's pulling stuff from and gasps when he sees something of his.

"Hey! This is my unicorn backpack, what gives?" he quickly retrieves the item from the plastic bag.

Peter huffs and grabs it back. "Nuh! It's for sale now." he pouts and sets it on the table away from Wade.

Wade smirks. "I see how it is. How much is it if I wanna buy it back then?"

"It's not open yet! You have to wait." Peter pulls the last few items from the bag.

"Alright, alright!" Wade puts up his hands in surrender.

After he sets the items down, he stands up and places his hands on his hips.

"Daddy! I'm finished." he giggles excitedly and grabs Wade's hand to drag him to the door.

"Where are we going, kiddo?" Wade laughs as he's being dragged away.

"To the door, silly! You have to come into the store. Have you never been to one?"

Peter's always very sassy with Wade while he's little, but he thinks it's adorable.

"Oh, my deepest apologies, sweetheart. How could I forget how a store works? How silly of me." Wade says sarcastically and puts his hand on his chest.

Peter sticks out his tongue again and runs behind the table.

"Okay! You can come now. Welcome to the grocery store!" he bounces and fidgets behind the table and it takes all of Wade's might to not scoop him up and shower him with kisses.

"Wow, this store is inviting." Wade playfully struts over to the table to get Peter to giggle, and he kneels down and looks at the shop's "stock".

There's a few of Peter's toys, a giant bag of flour, three packs of lunchables, a hairbrush and Wade's aforementioned unicorn backpack. He decides to go for that.

"Okay, you gotta tell me how much for that backpack, baby boy."

"Hm..." Peter looks down thoughtfully before replying. "Fifty thousand million!"

Wade plays along with a dramatic gasp.

"In this economy, kiddo?! Man, even the readers are shocked! Or maybe they're not depending on their living situation..."

"Wha?" Peter tilts his head.

"Nothing, sweetie. Don't worry about it." Wade ruffles his hair.

"You gonna pay up or what?" Peter sasses him again, and Wade rolls his eyes.

"Yeah, yeah, you little brat. I'm payin'" he pulls his wallet out of his pocket (he finally started carrying it with him). He pulls out a $5 note and hands it to Peter. He inspects the note carefully.

"This isn't quite enough, but..." he pauses for dramatic effect. "Because you're my daddy and I love you, I suppose this will suffice."

Wade can't hold in his laugh. Sometimes Peter likes to use somewhat sophisticated language when he's small, and he finds it adorable.

"Aww, thank you buddy. You're very kind." Wade takes the backpack of the table and slings it around his shoulder.

"You're welcome, daddy." Peter walks around the table to give Wade a big hug. He tenderly leans down slightly and kisses Peter on the forehead.

"I love you so much, my little angel."

He hears Peter's flustered giggles and smiles.

"I love you too, daddy."

[sunnyie-eve]

6 | The Risk

Series: The Benefits 

Paring: Coriolanus Snow x OFC Plinth!

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: mention of death

| MASTERLIST |

~

While in district 12, Coriolanus knew Sejanus was going to have trouble since he wanted to help people. He knew he would have to keep his ass in check to make sure Sejanus doesn't get into trouble because if he did he'll go down with him.

For the weekend he finally got to see Lucy Gray alive and well as she preformed on stage. He was happy to see her. Back in the Capitol he listened to his Grandma'am and used her before she could use him but along the way he developed a little crush on her. But there was no way he had strong feelings for her like he did with Aurelia.

While being in District 12 he and Lucy Gray grew closer but he could never bring himself to kiss her no matter how many times she thought he would. She wasn't as perfect at Aurelia. He had to think of the long run and what was good for him.

Back in the Capitol, Aurelia had to work closer with Dr. Gaul because her father it was best for her since she was so smart and could come up with new experiments.

Even though Dr. Gaul had her constantly busy, she trod her best to help Tigris and Grandma'am. The two had to move due to not having money to pay rent, so Aurelia was helping them with where they were renting out now.

Grandma'am appreciated Aurelia's help and loved how she would come over with new groceries to keep the place stocked for them to eat. She would even just come over to spend time with them since Coriolanus was gone.

"It's about time I get a call from you." She laughs as Sejanus comes through.

"You have to earn and work for a call. How are things at home?" He laughs at her.

"Alright. Father has me working with Dr. Gaul so she keeps me super busy. When I have free time I'm with Coryo's family helping them since they had to move out." She catches him up, "How have you been?"

"I've been good. Trying to help the people here." He tells her but she didn't think he was that stupid to do what he was actually doing.

"That's good. Ma, misses you. With you gone though she babies me even more which I love but it has its moments."

"I'm sure it does. And I swear if you become her favorite with me gone... when I get back I'm gonna make you regret it." They both laugh.

"That's quite a long time so you'll forget by then. I gotta go. It was nice talking to you and seeing you again. Love you."

"Love you too. Tell Ma!" He shouts.

"Of course I will!" She ends the call. "Ma, Sejanus said he loves and misses you." She goes to the kitchen.

"Of course he does but I'm glad he finally called. I miss him so much." She sighs.

"I know but he's doing it to do something he loves." Aurelia hugs her mother, "I'm off to Dr. Gaul then afterwards swing by to see Grandma'am and Tigris."

For Dr. Gaul, Aurelia had to keep records of how certain experiments were going. Hell, she had feed different animals experiments they were working on. She hated getting up close with all of them since Dr. Gaul wanted to use them for future games.

"Sorry, I'm a little late than I normally am. Dr. Gaul had me make copies of what I wrote today." Aurelia enters the house to help Tigris cook dinner.

"Coryo called earlier today. He noticed we moved out. I told him you're helping us out and over doing it to make sure we're okay. He's glad you're okay along with us. He gave me some news... they want him to do officer training in district 2." Tigris lets her know.

"He must be doing really really good. Sejanus called me earlier too."

"Must be our lucky day." Tigris smiles as joins her with cooking.

Later in District 12 the same day Coriolanus find Sejanus, "I talked to my cousin earlier today. She said that Aurelia is helping them out spending time with them."

"Yeah, she told me when I talked to her earlier." Sejanus lets him know.

"Were you gonna tell me you talked to her?" Coriolanus eyes him as he shrugs.

"Didn't cross my mind to tell you but you brought her up since Tigris told you about her." Sejanus looks away from him, "Plus she my sister and you guys are just friends because of me."

Coriolanus can't help but let out a chuckle, "I've kissed your sister twice by the way." He says so Sejanus looks at his with wide eyes.

"Why?"

"Why? Because she's perfect and I like her." He laughs more.

"I thought you liked Lucy Gray? So what are you doing?" Sejanus asks his friend.

"I did like Lucy Gray but she's not your sister. No one can out do your sister."

"Might want to tell her that next time you see her because that girl likes you, Coryo." Sejanus walks off

-

Aurelia was busy working when Dr. Gaul calls her to check the jabberjays that arrived last night, "Where did this one come from?" She asks her.

"District 12, I already listed to what it recorded. But I want you to hear it as well. I want to confirm something." Aurelia loos at her confused, "Go ahead dear." Dr. Gaul smiles so Aurelia plays it.

"They're just doing what anybody else would do, Coryo. The leader, Spruce, he wants to get his sister, Lil, out of jail on base. Hoff is going to execute her just because she knows the man they killed, it's wrong. I'm gonna help them get her out." She hears her brother come through causing her heart to drop as Dr. Gaul takes the recorder turning it off.

"He continues to go on even though Coriolanus tells him it's treason but he didn't seem to care. Says it's worth the risk." Dr. Gaul sums up the rest, "You know I won't let this go, Miss Plinth. Your brother is a trader."

Aurelia tries her hardest to remind calm refusing to show any emotion to Dr. Gaul, "What's gonna happen to him?"

"Distinct 12 has already hung him along with the rest of the rebels. We have the news to your parents as well."

"He knew the risk of helping them." Aurelia swallows the lump in her throat trying not to cry.

After the new Aurelia was allowed to go home and as soon as she was out of the building tears ran down her face. She was never going to get to see him again. He was never coming back home. She was an only child now. She hated that he just had to help people in the wrong ways. She hated how he seemed to talk so freely around the jabberjays.

Was it just the wrong timing to talk or did Coriolanus record the conversation? Aurelia didn't want to believe that but that's who he was talking to. Did he send it just so he couldn't get dragged down with Sejanus? Aurelia just felt her world spinning around her as she walked home.

As soon as she opened the door she could hear the cries from her mother mourning the loss of her only son. Sejanus was a mamas boy and now he wasn't just like that. Aurelia knew she should've comforted her mother but she goes straight to her room to cry alone in peace.

For the next few days, Aurelia cried herself to sleep but would act fine around Dr. Gaul while she worked. At the moment she had no idea Coriolanus was back seeing Dr. Gaul.

She was letting him know that he would be studying under her at the university since Mr. Plinth offered to pay for everything. Because to his knowledge Coriolanus was such a good friend to Sejanus.

"Quite impressive, how you sent your only friend to the noose just to get my attention."

"That's not what I did." He tells her.

"Are you sure? Because I think that won you the Plinth Prize, after all." She lets him know, "The President has agreed to another year of the Games. People watched. And I have you to thank for that. Even Aurelia since she gave you some ideas."

She goes on to ask about what are the Hunger Games for and he finally gives her an answer she liked and believed, "Oh, if you take the first door on the left leaving, you'll find Ms. Plinth." She waves him off so he follows her instructions.

Sure enough there she was feeding some of the snakes and taking notes on a few others. Her hair was in its natural state of being curly, and not straightened like she's been doing for years. She had it up in a clip to keep out of her face as she worked. Her outfit was a shirt red velvet dress with long puffy white sleeves. Even her shoes matched her dress.

"Listen little dude. I know you're hungry but you and the rest in your tank are the test subjects to see how long you can go without eating and how aggressive you get." She talks to the snake thinking she was still the only person in the room, "Thankfully you have taken a liking to me since I'm with you guys for hours."

Coriolanus couldn't help but smile watching her. He thought that when Lucy Gray betrayed him by running off he lost all his caring felling for anyone. He saw her as a friend after everything wanting to protect yet she left him. He didn't want that to happen ever again but Aurelia had something about her still.

"You don't have a fear of snakes anymore, I see." He finally speaks up causing her to spin around.

"Coryo," She was surprised to see him.

"Dr. Gaul got the President to give me full pardon. I'll be studying under her at the University. What are you doing here?" He walks over as she puts the snake away.

"I work and study under her too. My father's suggestion and as suggestion, I mean his decision." She laughs, "And yes, my fear is gone now. Dr. Gaul forced me to get rid of it fast."

"I'm sorry about Sejanus. I wish I could have done more to help him. I told him many of times not to get involved."

"I know, Dr. Gaul told me what you said in the recording." She looks down.

"You know about that?" He was shocked she knew about the recording he sent.

"She had me listen to it. To give my thoughts on it." She looks back up at him, "So I told her he knew the risk of helping them."

"While in District 12, I told him we've kissed in the past. I let him know I had feelings for you." He decides to throw in, "Was shocked about it in the end."

"I'm sure he was. I always told him I did have a crush on you anymore." She laughs.

"You had a crush on me?" He steps closer to her.

"I did when we first moved here."

"Is that crush stronger now?" He leans down to her height.

"Well, whenever you kissed me I kissed you back didn't I?" She smiles so he kisses her.

[darth-aces]

Pining For Pineapple

Bella Ramsey x Reader

This is just a short story I wrote that wasn’t meant to be a fanfic, but I’m bored and I don’t know where else to share this story so I decided to nourish the gay Bella army with a new story. Anyway I hope you enjoy.

“Pineapple again?”

Bella asks as they picks up a silver tin wrapped in a bright yellow strip of paper. Before I could answer, their hand and the can make their way toward the basket swaying from their other hand. “I know you like them. We might as well pick some up while we’re here.”

“I’ve got a can or two in the cupboard already so I think I’ll be all right till next week,” I explain as I try to pick the can back up to return it to its original place on the shelf. Before my fingers could reach it in time, Bella moves the basket farther away from me.

“I think we should just grab one, in case you’re craving pineapple this week. Also, it might save us some time from coming back here next week.” Bella protests.

“Why? Are you so sick of me that you’d rather stock up on canned food to avoid hanging out with me?” I say teasingly, knowing full well that I’m the one who wouldn’t be able to go a day without them.

I watched as a grin emerge from their lips before they speak. “Yeah. You’re suffocating me, so I’ll have to buy as many canned pineapples as I can to feed you and keep you satiated while I’m away.”

To this remark, I scold them with a light smack to their arm and say, “You know you love me too much to stay away.”

“I do know that, but do you love me?” They playfully say.

I taunt back, “Not as much as my pineapple.”

We continue our banter with a side of more shopping. By the time we paid for our things and exit the store-the groceries in my hand-I noticed that night was approaching, and the clouds were grey and ominous looking.

We’re walking back to our apartment when Bella gets a text on their phone. I take a glance and it’s a message from a good friend of ours. “Everyone’s hanging out tonight. Wanna go?”

“Sure, but we gotta be quick. It smells like it’ll rain soon.” As if on cue, raindrops lightly fall onto our face.

“I think if we run, we can make it back to the apartment before the rain gets heavier.” My hand holding the grocery bag tightens as I nod, and we both take off.

I’m only a few steps behind them, giving me a chance to get a good look at them.

Hair, eyes, nose.

Then I see their lips. They grew as uncontrollable giggles slip out of their mouth as we run through the rain, and it convinces me that I now have heightened hearing and limitless capacity in my memory just for them.

Suddenly I feel my heart expand, and I am eager to fill it with the thing I’m craving the most. I’ve felt it before. The way my lips purse as I engulf myself in its sweetness, but I have to brace myself every time for the sourness that comes at the end. Despite this pain, I’m craving it more than ever right now.

When we finally get to the main entrance of our apartment, we slow down before getting closer to the door. The giggling had turned into huffs as we try to catch our breaths.

Before they reach the door handle, I say with the little air in my lungs, “Hold on.” They turn around to face me, and our eyes connect. Before I forget why I stopped them in the first place, I lay the groceries down by the door. Then I walk back into the rain just a few steps away under the warm yellow hue of a street light nearby. The rain had started pouring moments before we got here. Despite this, I still waved them to come over.

“In the rain?” They yell over the sound of the sky continues to pour down on us.

“Just for a bit, please,” I say.

They come over grinning, radiating, and ecstatic about whatever plan I have up my sleeve.

“So much for trying to avoid the rain.” They’re still taunting me.

We’re both drenched now, yet they’re still glowing; brighter and yellow now as they enter the light. I extend my hand as they get closer, and they rest their palm against mine, weaving our fingers together. My eyes are on them this whole time, with a grin I can’t seem to shake. Our eyes are still connected until they get close enough to place their other hand gently on my face. Immediately they use their thumb to caress my cheek, and my eyes fall to their lips like it always does.

I’m feeling it again. I’m craving them, and nothing can stop my concentration, not even the rain.

When I move closer, I ask them, “Is this okay?”

Bella nods, and they let out a slight chuckle. This only amplifies my craving. My smile gets wider and my heart beats at a rhythm I can not recognize.

Then we kiss, and I lose myself in the sweetness.

The hand already tangled in theirs, softly squeezes. I do this because I hope it can make the sweetness linger a little longer. It is also to brace myself for the sourness that will follow when it’s over.

When we do pull away, we laugh to ease the tension in the cliche story we’ve curated. It’s time to walk out of the rain, but my concentration stays on them.

I'm doing my best to savor this moment so I can store this memory away for the next time I'm craving pineapple, and I’ll ensure to ask them if they want to share it with me again.