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libraryofloveletters · 4 years ago

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Love Delivered To Your Doorstep

Evan Buckley x Reader

Warnings: fem!reader, mentions of cheating, break ups and killing/serial killers. (<in a joking context)

Category: fluff for the most part.

Word Count: 3.9k

Author’s Note: Doesn’t follow canon, it has a little of buck begins in there but it doesn't follow a strict timeline. It also is written like Buck moves to LA and has his apartment from the moment he moves there while trying to figure out what he wants to do.

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Texting and calling was never your choice method of communication.

Letters had always been more of your thing.

Truthfully, they hadn't been your thing until your boyfriend moved halfway across the country for university. The two of you met in high school, freshman year and became inseparable since. Growing together and promising to always love each other no matter what -you always knew that couldn't be true but it never stopped you from telling him.

When he told you that he was going to be applying to UCLA during your senior year of high school, it came as a bit of a shock to you. The plan was always going to college together, get engaged when you were done school and then married with a house by 30.

You held out the hope of that being possible until the day he showed you his acceptance letter.

You were incredibly proud of him but it was real now, he was leaving.

You watched him pack up his entire life and uproot himself from New York and moved across the country. You sent the first letter to him at what was supposed to be his apartment.

September 30th.

‘Hi baby!

Just writing to see how you're settling in. How’s UCLA ? Have you gotten a chance to go around and get to see the place ? I know you’re there for school but you've got to live a little too. Hope your neighbours are sweet, your mom told me it’s a pretty nice place and it’s got a good view, sounds like your type of place. Hopefully I can come visit you soon.

I started my classes last week. My chem professor is a pain in my ass already, he expects us to read an entire textbook in a week - well not exactly an entire textbook but you get the point. My biology professor is a sweetheart, she showed us pictures of her kids and talked about them for an hour, I didn't realize being a mother was so interesting but she was cool. Also showed us a video of an appendectomy that one of her colleagues performed last week. How are your classes and professors ?

Did I mention I bumped into Sam at the grocery store ? Yeah, he’s back and he’s not fine to tell you the truth. He seemed like he was ready to snap but that might just be my judgment. He said to tell you hello if I spoke to you so- hello :)

I’m going to sign off here, I know this one is short but I don’t have much to update you on. Life’s been pretty dull without you. Hope you’re having fun out there, soaking up the sun for me.

Write me back soon, I love you.

Yours always, y/n’

You mailed the letter the next day, a few weeks had passed before you received a letter back. Except this letter had a different sender name but the same address.

October 22nd.

‘Hi y/n,

This isn't your boyfriend. (I'm assuming that’s who you're writing too based on the context of the letter) I’m Evan, I live in the apartment you thought belonged to your boyfriend or maybe you got the address wrong, I’m not sure. I know you were waiting for an update on all these exciting things that are happening at UCLA. I do not go to UCLA nor can I update you in anything exciting that’s happening there, sorry.

Anyways, the reason I'm writing you back is because I figured you’d want to know that this isn't the correct address and the person you were looking for isn't here before you send another letter and get no response. I was debating if I should have even written you back, but here I am, writing you back.

Your professor for chem seems like an ass to be honest (hope that’s not rude) and your biology professor sounds great, is she hot by the way ? because bonus points for that. Anyways, are you studying medicine ? I'm guessing yes because of the classes you're taking. I'm thinking of signing up to become a first responder but I haven’t decided yet on what yet or if I'm actually going to do it. Anyways, good luck on your classes and the shitty chem professor.

Hope you find your boyfriend (again, assuming)

Peace out,

Evan.’

To say you were shocked would be an understatement. How could the letter you sent to your boyfriend’s apartment belong to someone else ? Why was there someone else living in his apartment ? You dug through your apartment, searching for the paper he left you with the address, you finally found it buried in a drawer.

The address on the paper was identical to the one that Evan sent to you and to the one you sent prior to that. Either your boyfriend was lying or you were losing your mind.

November 4th.

‘Dear Evan,

I'm sorry that I sent the first letter to you and as you guessed, I was looking for my boyfriend who seems to be a bit MIA right now. His mother says that’s the right address and the place that she helped him move into. So I'm not really sure what’s happening there. Anyways, sorry for unloading all of that on you.

To answer your question, yes, I am studying medicine and no, she isn't hot. My bio professor is a 65 year old woman who loves her college aged kids very much. If that’s your definition of hot, then yes - she's got milf status

Have you decided yet if you’re going to sign up to be a first responder ? That’d be pretty cool. Imagine all the girls swoon over you and how many girls you’d pick up just for being a paramedic or a firefighter.

Wait, are you into girls ? Or guys ? You know, whoever you're into, just imagine how many of them you’d pick up.

Also, you’re not a murderer or anything right ? because I rather not answer questions when the police come asking about why I've been sending letters to a serial killer.

Anyways, signing off for now.

Yours always, y/n.

ps. if you do end up bumping into or meeting a guy that looks like my boyfriend, (tall, brown hair, brown eyes. he’s got a pierced ear and a little butterfly tattoo by his collarbone- though not sure why or how you'd see his collarbone) let me know or tell him that his girlfriend is looking for him.

Double ps, what size shirt do you wear ?’

Buck laughed at your absurd question. A person he didn’t even know was asking what size shirt he wore. The letter was set on the coffee table with the rest of the mail, getting buried under all of the stuff he had on there. It was almost the end of December when he realized that he hadn't written you back yet.

December 21st.

‘Hey y/n,

Sorry I've taken so long to get back to you. Things have been hectic over here. I’ve been doing some ‘soul-searching’ - I guess you could call it that and honestly, I don’t think if this whole first responders thing is for me.

I tried out bartending or well, the technical term is mixologist and I’m liking it so far, I think i’m going to stick with it for now.

How have you been ? How’s school ? Surely, you’re on break for the holidays right about now or at least when you get this letter. I hope that you're spending the break doing something fun.

I’m not going to make this very long, I’m sure you’ve been busy with whatever you’re doing right now.

Also, I’ve been meaning to ask. Have you located the mysteriously disappearing boyfriend yet ? I haven't seen anyone that fit your description.

well, that’s not true- I did and just to be sure I asked to see his collarbone, he looked at me like I was a mad man so I guess it wasn't him ?

Anyways, I hope you have a good holiday and you're probably gonna get this sometime between holidays, so merry belated (?) Christmas and happy New Years y/n.

Peace out,

Evan.

ps. medium or large, depending on what it is. Hopefully that answers your question weirdo.’

January 13th.

The morning of the 13th, he went down to check his mail. A box was there with his name on it, the return address was one he had only seen on an envelope. The box returned upstairs with him, setting it on the counter before opening it.

Upon opening it, there was a letter and some colourful tissue paper with what seemed like a sweater under it. He opened the letter first.

‘Dear Evan,

Happy New Years! How was your holiday going ? Did you do anything fun ?

I’ve been good and school is good too, I'm almost done my first year, isn't that crazy ? Just a few more months to go.

How’s your job as mr. mixologist going ? I'm sure you’ve met some wild people and heard some interesting stories.

As for the boyfriend situation, that's over. I’m not surprised to tell you the truth but it still kinda sucks. Anyways, so what happened was that his older brother had come home from college last year and brought a friend with him. She went to the same school as his brother but transferred to UCLA- anyways long story short, they hooked up while he and I were still together and he moved in with her after his mom helped him move into the apartment I thought he had.

But! I’m single and chilling now so it’s all good. (bonus, she cheated on him and left him so yeah)

I got you a little something for Christmas and as a “sorry for unloading all my boyfriend drama on you” present. I was in the gift shop and it made me think of you. Do you celebrate Christmas? I forgot to check oops. If you don't, count it as a just a “sorry for unloading all my boyfriend drama on you” present?

I got a large because I wasn't sure if it would fit. I hope you like it. That’s all for now.

Yours always, y/n.’

He unwrapped the tissue paper to see a blue sweater with the letters NYU on it. He smiled, he assumed that’s where you went. It was sweet that you took the time to get him something, even if it was a by the way thing. Not a lot of people would send something to a person they had been talking to via letters and halfway across the country.

February 12th.

2 days before Valentine's Day, your least favourite holiday of the year. You weren't looking forward to watching all your friends going on with their boyfriends and girlfriends. The mail had arrived while you were out, you picked it up and headed in. There were two envelopes with your name on it, a plain white one and a red one. The red envelope was more squared than rectangular, you assumed it was a card- both had the same sender name.

‘Hey y/n!

Thank you for the sweater, it was nice of you to think of me and get me something. I didn’t know we were doing gifts or I would have sent you something as well and yes, I do celebrate Christmas.

My job as ‘mr. mixologist’ was going well until I quit. It just didn’t feel like the right fit for me you know ? I'm going to see what else is out there for me.

Sorry to hear about your boyfriend, he seems like a douche. Who would cheat on you ? You seem great I mean at least you are on paper (did you get my joke, it’s hard to tell)

Also, remember how I was thinking I might actually give that first responder thing a try? Imagine me as a firefighter, that’s pretty cool right ?

So I kinda did a thing and signed up and then I got in. I started two weeks ago and it was kicking my ass at first but I've gotten a hang of it and things are going pretty well. There's three other Evans in my class so everyone calls me Buck-I kind of like it.

The other envelope, hopefully you opened this one first, is a little something for you for valentines. Hope you like it.

Peace out,

Buck’

The red envelope was on your lap, you pulled the edges carefully not wanting to rip it. Inside was a plain white card with bright red letters that made you laugh. The cover read ‘I’m not sick of you yet!” Opening the card, a $20 fell onto your lap. There was a little message inside that went along with the cash.

‘Since we aren't together and can’t spend valentines together, there’s some cash to get yourself a box of chocolates and a teddy bear. Happy Valentines Day y/n

Love, Buck.’

You smile, this was the first time that Buck had signed with ‘love, buck’ it had always been ‘peace out, buck.’ You tucked the card into the drawer, one you didn’t use very often so you knew it’d be safe there.

*4 years later*

A few weeks had passed since Buck had last heard from y/n. His last letter to her was at the end of June, telling her all about the day he had spent at Hen and Karen’s. He always described every little detail so vividly that it made her feel like she was there with him- but it was now July, end of actually and moving into August.

4 years had blown like nothing.

It felt like just yesterday he got the first letter in the mail. 4 years and they still had no idea what each other looked like but they knew every intricate and intimate detail about each other, their lives and the people in it.

Y/n and Buck had grown rather close over the last few months- more than they already were. Y/n just went through a pretty shitty break up and Buck wasn't exactly big on relationships as of right now.

He had just gotten home from work, his keys set on the counter when he realized that he forgot to check his mail. Stepping back out, there was a woman in the hallway and boxes scattered across her, leading into the apartment down the hall.

She must be his new neighbour.

He wanted to go over and introduce himself but she was busy telling the movers where to set her couch so he decided that he would check the mail and then introduce himself when he returned so he did just that.

Except, she was still busy.

She leaned against the wall, watching the movers move what looked like a coffee table. She glanced up to see Buck walking by, she smiled and he returned the smile.

Buck reaches his apartment, the mail in hand and steps in. He sorts through the pile, bills, ads, coupons and no letter from y/n.

---

Your new apartment was a mess. You decided it was time for a change. You applied to a few hospitals after your break up and the one in LA hired you. So you dropped everything and moved- no family, no ties.

A fresh start.

It was a nice neighbourhood and the building was quiet. The neighbours you met were pleasant and welcoming. When you were having the furniture moved in, there was a blonde man who smiled at you and you assumed he lived in the unit down the hall because that’s where he stepped into.

It was almost 11pm when you finally sat down. You had been on your feet all day and just wanted to eat something. The box with the dishes was beside the couch, you pulled the tape off and opened it. There was an envelope sitting on top of the stack of plates.

Buck’s last letter to you.

You must have tossed it into the boxes while packing and you forgot to write him back. Tumbling through the boxes, you find a sheet of paper and a pen from your bag. Sitting on the floor, the paper resting on an unopened box, you begin writing.

‘Dear Buck,

I’m sorry I've taken so long to get back to you. I quit my job, and uprooted my entire life. The break up sucked major ass as you know, so I decided it was time for a change.

Guess where I decided to go ?

Did you guess yet?

No, not Canada, why would you guess Canada ?

LA!

Yeah, isn't that crazy that I ended up here of all places? Maybe we could get together one day (if you haven’t turned into a crazy serial killer that is.)

Anyways, that’s why I've taken so long to write. I was packing when I got your letter and I tossed it in a box and just found it again. Anyways, I hope you’ve been good, how have things been at the station ?

I promise I'll write again with more details soon, I just have to get settled in first.

Yours always, y/n.’

Folding the paper, you slipped into an envelope. The address being scribbled into the back of the envelope. You were about to seal it when the building number caught your eye.

It was the same number as the place you moved into. The same address, the building number, the same floor.

The unit number was the only difference.

There was no way you moved into the building that Buck lived in.

You knew the address felt familiar when you saw the listing but you didn’t think anything of it nor did it occur to you that you knew the address.

Stepping out of your apartment, looking at the number on the room and back down at the envelope in your hand. Buck’s apartment was down the hall.

Part of you just wanted to mail it and keep things as it was but another part of you wanted to meet him, to see what he was really like in person. So there you were walking down the hallway at a quarter past 11 in the dead of the night to meet a man you had been sending letters to for the last 4 years.

The end of the hallway, you stared at the black wooden door in front of you. Your brain weighing the options right now: he’s a sweetheart and welcoming and makes you feel comfortable or he’s a weird guy who’s been lying to you this whole time and you told him everything about you and now he’s going to kill you.

Before you could register what you were doing, you knocked on the door.

Glancing down at yourself, you were wearing a pair of old shorts and a t-shirt from high school that you found in a drawer while packing. Not an ideal outfit, maybe he’s sleeping and you can go home and change- the door opened, a man wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt stood there. He looked like he had just woken up.

“Sorry, did I wake you?”

“It's alright,” he yawned, his hand covering his mouth as he blinked away a few tears. “What can I do for you ?” he leaned against the door.

“Um, this is an odd question-” you shifted, glancing down at the envelope in your hand. “Are you Buck ?”

“I am, who are you ?”

“Y/n.”

You had never seen a man wake up that fast, he seemed surprised, confused and concerned all in one. “How- uh, are you- What ?” he mumbled.

“I found your letter in the box after I moved, I moved into the apartment down the hall” you point to your left, Buck sticks his head out of the doorway and looks at the door you were pointing to. You were the woman in the hallway that he saw earlier, he knew you looked familiar.

“I just wrote your letter and I noticed that the addresses were the same, just a different unit number so I decided to come check. Sorry if I bothered you, we can talk another day- it’s late and you probably have work” “Would you like to come in?” he opens the door a bit more, looking to you for an answer.

“Um, okay sure.” stepping in, you can’t help but glance around. The apartment was similar to yours, the layout was a bit different though. “Can I get you something to drink ? Coffee, water ? A beer ?” he rounded the kitchen counter, you took a seat on one of the chairs by the counter.

“Water’s fine, thanks”

He reached for a bottle from the fridge, sliding it over to you. You gave him a smile, he leaned against the counter and was now looking- studying you.

“I know we’ve talked to each other for 4 years but this is kinda strange” you chuckled awkwardly, Buck can't help but smile.

“Yeah, it is, isn't it? but can I ask why you moved to LA?”

“Well all of that was in the letter” you slide the envelope across the counter and he picks it up, opening it. Giving him a few moments to read, you watch his expression like you were hoping for some insight as to how he was feeling or what he was thinking. He let out a laugh, “how’d you know I'd guess Canada ?” you smiled at him, a small wave of relief washing over you for some reason. “Lucky guess I suppose”

“Do you-” “What are-” the sentences cutting each other off, the two of you awkwardly smiling at each other. “You first” looking at him, he hums.

“Do you have work tomorrow or are you busy ?” His eyes meet yours, you found yourself leaning forwards towards the counter- towards him. He made you feel comfortable, you’d go as far as to say safe, in a way you’ve never felt before.

“No, I don't start until the 21st. Why ?”

“I was thinking - if you're not busy and if you want to, of course. Maybe I could take you out for breakfast and I could show you around ? Or lunch or dinner ? Whatever works for you actually” he rambles, fiddling with his fingers to avoid eye contact.

A small laugh slips past your lips causing him to look up, his brows furrowed as he studies your face, looking for an answer.

“Breakfast sounds good, what time should I be ready for ?”

“Uh, is 10 okay ?” he asks, you nod. “I’ll be ready for 10 then.”

“Okay, I'll pick you up” he smiles.

“Buck, we live in the same building.”

“Oh right,” he chuckles, “well I'll be by yours at 10 then” the two of you smiling at each other.

“Okay.”

----

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sankyeom · 4 years ago

Text

picture perfect | k.m

pairings: kevin moon x reader genre: art student au, strangers to lovers, art!student kevin, actor!reader, another secret admirer situation (yes i know we already did that in my sangyeon fit but it’s cute so idc) summary: in which you find a sketchbook filled with drawings of you, and go on a mission to find the owner word count: 8.5k (these just get longer and longer wow) series: sankyeom’s 2k followers celebration

masterlist

Your psychology professor always spoke a mile a minute, and it made taking notes unnecessarily difficult. Usually when she lectured, your wrist cramped from writing so fast, and your classmates couldn’t wait to get out of the room. On one particular autumn afternoon, you stared into nothingness as your professor gave a lecture on Milgram’s experiments, running lines in your head instead of taking notes like you usually did.

When you were cast as one of the lead roles (who didn’t even have that many lines to begin with) in your University’s winter play of An Ideal Husband, you were ecstatic to be given a new challenge. You had never been involved in acting or theatre before University, and you always felt like you were behind your peers. Your excitement soon morphed into something less productive: fear.

You were so afraid to mess up and disappoint your peers that you frequently did poorly in rehearsals and were the source of your cast’s frustrations. Perhaps it was your lack of experience, or perhaps it was because you didn’t really have any faith in yourself. Either way, it was all you could think about.

As your classmates started packing up to leave, you realised that the lecture was over and that you had just been in your own head for over an hour without learning anything from your class. Scrambling to pack up, you put away your notebooks and pencils as your phone chimed. Checking the text, you saw a message from your friend Sunwoo asking if you wanted to get lunch with him.

Getting to your feet, you texted Sunwoo that you were down for lunch as you exited the now empty lecture hall. As you left, you felt your shoe come in contact with a solid object in the doorway; a notebook that somebody must have dropped on the way out. Knowing that you would want your notes back if someone found them – especially in this class, where your professor spoke way too fast – you opened the notebook to see who it belonged to.

Your breath caught in your throat.

It wasn’t a notebook, it was a sketchbook. With a drawing of you on the first page.

At first, you scolded yourself for assuming that the person in the drawing was you. It was presumptuous of you, wasn’t it? But the texture, colour, and length of the person’s hair perfectly matched yours. The person in the picture had your eyes, skin, clothes, and smile.

Perhaps it wasn’t so arrogant of you to presume that you were being depicted in the drawing.

“That’s a lovely drawing,” Professor Shin, who was on her way out, complimented. “You’re an excellent artist.”

You glanced up from the page, feeling a little dizzy. “It’s not mine,” you admitted, head spinning at the idea of somebody drawing you. Plain, simple, me? You couldn’t believe it. “I just found it here on the floor.”

“Looks like somebody admires you,” your Professor mused, smiling before bidding you farewell, leaving you standing in an empty lecture hall, clutching the sketchbook in your hands.

You tried to find a name on the other side of the cover, but there was no number or form of identification anywhere. The only thing that alluded to an identity was the small signature at the bottom right corner of the drawing.

Moon scribbles.

The first time Kevin saw you, he was seated three rows behind you in one of his Cultural Anthropology classes last semester. You were jotting notes as quickly as possible, brows furrowed together in concentration as you gripped your pen hard enough for your knuckles to turn white.

Kevin didn’t take any notes that day.

All the could do was watch you, appreciating the way your expressions changed as you understood the content, and the hesitance on your face when you volunteered an answer during class.

He didn’t mean to start drawing you. You had simply inspired him to pick up his pencil and start sketching, the soft strokes of the lead slowly but surely forming shapes that resembled your eyes, nose, lips…

Kevin didn’t think that you’d be all he could draw from that moment onwards. Even during his art classes; if the assignment was to study the scenery surrounding the University and draw a landscape, Kevin couldn’t get the image out of your face out of his head. Whether he used paint, charcoal, ink, or lead, it was your profile that emerged from his efforts.

Today was no different; Kevin was supposed to be studying the Psychology slides from class that day – which he hadn’t taken notes on because he was too busy sketching you – and yet he only had the urge to add the finishing touches to his drawing instead of facilitating his studying. Dragging his messenger bag over to his desk, Kevin rifled through it in search of his sketchbook. He had filled many, many pages with your face at that point, and it had become a habit for him to bring it everywhere with him in case he had the urge to draw.

Kevin furrowed his brows when he couldn’t find it. His heart pounded suddenly, the idea of him having lost his sketchbook in a place you might find it seeming terrifying and disastrous. After a final sweep of his bag – which included emptying it inside-out to make sure he didn’t miss anything – Kevin could only hope and pray that he’d find it before you did.

“You found what?” Sunwoo asked through a mouthful of noodles, his eyes comically large and rounded in surprise.

“A sketchbook full of drawings of me,” you replied in a monotone voice, knowing fully well that Sunwoo had heard and understood you the first time. This was the fourth time you had explained the situation, and it was starting to get a little old.

Eric narrowed his eyes, judging Sunwoo’s eating habits, before turning to face you. “Are the drawings cute?” he wondered.

“I wouldn’t say they’re cute,” you said absentmindedly, thinking back to the drawings you saw. After succumbing to your own curiosity, you had looked through the notebook to see what other drawings there were. You knew this was an invasion of privacy but you couldn’t help yourself. Surely enough, they were all of you.

“They were beautiful. Drawn in such detail that I couldn’t even believe it when I first saw them… And I look genuinely gorgeous in them,” you paused when Sunwoo scoffed at your words. “I’m not saying that to be vain,” you defended. “Trust me, I look much better in the sketches than in real life. Whoever drew them just… sees me differently than I see myself. I look beautiful in the pictures.”

“Your Professor’s right, it does sound like you’ve got yourself an admirer,” Eric teased you, pleased that somebody other than your close friends was starting to see how great you were. He wasn’t your best friend like Juyeon or Sunwoo, but he knew you well enough. “Did you get a name or anything?” he asked excitedly.

“Nothing,” you sulked. “I can take an educated guess that this person is probably in my Psych class since it’s the only class I have in that room, but who knows? It could be anyone that’s seen me before.”

“Maybe it’s one of your fans from the drama department,” Sunwoo poked fun at your cast members, not liking how they were treating you in rehearsals.

“Very funny,” you rolled your eyes, finally picking at your rice and starting to eat. “I just want to know who’s drawing me in such an amazing way. It’s so detailed that I assume it might be someone will a lot of skill, maybe an art major? But a lot of people draw as a hobby who aren’t art majors as well. Maybe-”

Eric interrupted you. “You’re thinking too much,” he said, trying to clam you down. “Just… slow down a little. Maybe they’ll come looking for it next time you have Psych? There’s no name or information so you can’t do anything to find them, anyways,” he rationalised, something that was usually your role in your friendships.

Your eyes lit up. “Moon scribbles,” you exclaimed.

Sunwoo gave you an unimpressed look. “Bless you.”

You ignored his cheek, taking out your phone and going onto Instagram. “The artist signed all of their drawings with a signature that says Moon scribbles,” you explained.

“You know it’s rude to go onto your phone during mealtimes,” Sunwoo replied.

You laughed. “I’ll be sure to remember that for the next time you do the same, Kim Sunwoo.”

After typing moonscribbles into the search bar, you saw an art page by the same name pop up. You couldn’t tell who it belonged to, as the bio vaguely gave information about the artist going to your University, studying art and being a pisces. Since the account was private, you decided to risk it and request to follow them, no matter how strange that might be if they weren’t the person you were looking for.

“I should have invited Juyeon out for lunch instead,” Sunwoo decided, picking at your rice dish in between bites of his noodles.

“Juyeon would rather hang out with Eric than you anyway,” you teased your friend back, knowing that Juyeon and Eric had a deeper friendship despite Sunwoo and Eric being the same age. Eric grinned, amused that the was the topic of discussion and not chiming in to deny anything. “And excuse me, I paid for lunch, you rascal! Now stop complaining, I’m done anyway.”

“Alright, fine. Did anything come up?” Sunwoo wondered, slapping your wrist when you tried to take some of his noodles. You rolled your eyes. Typical Sunwoo: always taking your food but never willing to share his with you.

“I don’t know yet,” you admitted. “Guess we’ll just have to wait and see.”

A few days passed without any response from moonscribbles on Instagram. You checked a few times a day to see if they ever accepted your request to follow them, but nothing ever came back. They didn’t deny your request, nor did they let you follow them either. It was frustrating, but it fell to the back of your mind after a week due to your schedule.

You had started doing full rehearsals with your cast members on stage for the play. At first, you thought that the setting might help you remember your lines and act without feeling awkward, but you were wrong. Most of your cast mates thought you got one of the lead roles for an alternate reason; perhaps you were related to someone on the University’s board and the director put you in because they wanted to keep their job. None of that was true, of course, but it didn’t help you make any friends.

The only friend you made was Younghoon, who played the lead opposite you, and with whom you frequently got together to go over lines and practice. He was one of those actors who was a completely different person from his role; he could keep be totally in character while doing his lines and the second the scene was over, he was back to his smiley self.

It didn’t help your confidence that he was an absolute pro. It only made you seem less competent in comparison, and you scolded yourself for even thinking that. Of course you knew it wasn’t Younghoon’s fault that he was simply much better at acting than you, but it definitely hurt your pride even more.

After another disastrous rehearsal, your cast mates had left to go backstage so you could have a word with the director. Younghoon sent you an encouraging smile and a pat on the shoulder before he followed your cast mates backstage, going over his lines in a faint whisper.

“Y/n,” your director began gently. “I don’t mean to hurt your feelings, but what’s up with you?” You said nothing, prompting her to keep talking. “Your audition was really great. I knew I wanted you to play a lead role the second you were done auditioning. But you’ve been doing pretty poorly in rehearsals.”

“I know,” you admitted. “I’m really sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

Your director sighed. “Look Y/n, I still want you to play your role. I like your chemistry with Younghoon and I think you guys could be really great leads. But if things don’t improve, I’m going to have to replace you with your understudy for the sake of this production.”

Even though you knew it was the obvious thing to do, it still hurt to hear. “I understand,” you whispered, nodding as you glanced at the floor.

“I really hope you can figure this out,” your director said, gently placing a hand on your shoulder. “Let me know if I can help in any way, okay?” You nodded, and your director excused herself, leaving you standing at the edge of the stage by yourself.

You groaned once you were alone, taking a seat at the edge of the stage and letting your legs dangle over the edge. Welcoming the silence in the theatre as most of the cast had left for the day, you allowed yourself to lay back and close your eyes.

Why couldn’t you get this right?

Maybe I should just quit the play, you thought to yourself. It’s probably for the best.

When you heard the gentle patter of footsteps leading onto the stage, you spoke without opening your eyes. “Let me guess, you came to tell me how terrible I am too?” you uttered, not even caring who it was anymore.

The footsteps paused. “Um, actually, I’m just here to paint the sets…” a soft male voice spoke, causing you to open your eyes and sit up.

A familiar face stood a few metres away from you, paintbrushes and paints in hand. He had black hair that slightly covered his eyes, cat-like eyes and small lips that were pursed at the awkward interaction the two of you had just had.

“Sorry,” you apologised, getting to your feet. “It’s been a rough day,” you paused. “You’re Kevin, right?”

He looked surprised that you knew who he was. “Oh. Yes, actually.”

“I’m close with Juyeon,” you explained, realising how strange it might seem that you knew his name and recognised him. “I suppose I should probably have led with that.”

Kevin smiled. “No worries. I know you as well, you’re Y/n. It’s nice to finally meet you.”

“Likewise,” you replied, bending down to collect your script and other belongings, pushing them into your tote bag as quickly as possible. “I’ll get out of your hair, then,” you smiled at him, implying it as your farewell.

“For the record, I don’t think you’re terrible,” Kevin confessed, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt and starting to mix paints. You glanced at him. “Are you in your head a little? Maybe. But you’re far from terrible,” he assured you, his brown eyes brimming with kindness.

“That’s very nice of you to say,” you replied. “Thanks. Although, you seem more like an artist than an actor,” you added, teasing him just a little. You couldn’t help yourself, he was pretty cute.

Kevin laughed. “Fair enough,” he allowed. “If you want me to brag about being the lead in Aladdin in middle school, then I will.”

You placed your tote bag on your shoulder, holding your hands up in surrender. “I take it back,” you said immediately. “You have more experience than I do on stage.” The two of you shared grins.

“You’ll get the hang of it,” Kevin assured you. “If I can do it then you certainly can.”

He seemed really sincere, and you appreciated it. “Thanks, Kevin,” you said, feeling much lighter and in a far better mood than before Kevin had come on stage. “I’ll see you around,” you bid your farewells before exiting the stage.

You’d have to ask Juyeon more about his friend Kevin.

The next time you and Kevin bumped into each other was after one of your rehearsals a few weeks later.

You had improved in your rehearsal times, with a lot of help from Younghoon – who practiced with you in between classes – and Sunwoo – who you ran lines with anytime the two of you were together. When you were done rehearsing, your director had expressed how happy she was that you were starting to warm up to the stage and really get into the character the way she was hoping you would. Younghoon earned himself two week’s worth of free coffee from you, and your cast finally stopped glaring at you whenever you came to rehearsals.

“Oh, hey,” you greeted Kevin, who started coming onstage to work on the sets with other people who were involved in the production process. “Good to see you again,” you told him.

“You too,” Kevin beamed, his hair falling over his eyes just slightly. You had the urge to brush it out of the way so you could see him better, but you resisted the urge and scolded yourself for being so forward. “You guys are looking pretty good out there,” he complimented, waving at Younghoon as he left the theatre. His older friend gave him a knowing look, making big eyes at him and puckering his lips to tease Kevin about his crush on you.

“Thank you,” you smiled back at him, entirely clueless to Kevin cursing Younghoon with his eyes right in front of you. “The sets are really coming along too,” you commend him, gesturing around you. “It’s certainly adding some more colour to our rehearsals.”

“Glad to hear it,” Kevin replied. “Set painting isn’t exactly my vocation or anything, but it’s a fun way to help out with my skillset.”

“Skillset?” you echoed, tilting his head in curiosity.

“Ah,” Kevin cleared his throat awkwardly. “Um, I’m a fine arts major. So set painting is a little less refined than what I usually do. Not that I’m bragging,” he added quickly.

“Not at all,” you agreed, your eyes widening in realisation. “Fine arts, that’s a really cool major. You must be pretty talented to get into fine arts here, it’s such a competitive major,” your eyes widened in sudden realisation. “I’d love to see something of yours that doesn’t involve painting sets,” you motioned to the stage around you.

Kevin almost blushed. “Really?” he asked, his heart beat hammering in his chest at the idea of you seeing his art.

“Yeah,” you nodded your head eagerly. Partly because you were really curious about his art, but mostly because Kevin was pretty damn cute. “For sure! I mean, if you come to opening night of the play, I’d love to go see your art some time.”

“How’s this Saturday?” Kevin asked, his words almost slurring together at the speed he was talking. “The art department’s putting on an exhibition and a few of my drawings are going to be in it.”

“That sounds great,” you agreed. “Do you think I could bring some friends?”

Kevin nodded, his deep brown eyes brightening at the idea. “For sure! I already invited Juyeon but you can bring Sunwoo along as well.”

“Then I’ll be there,” you promised.

“Oh my god, are you touching the art?” you heard Kevin exclaim semi-loudly. You froze from your place, pointing at the water fountain from which you were filling up a cup of water to drink.

“What?” you asked dumbly, your eyes widening as Kevin smirked, hiding his laughter.

It was the Saturday of Kevin’s exhibition and you were doing your best to blend in with all the artistically-minded people in the room; admiring the paintings, motioning at the sculptures and pondering over the meanings behind the light exhibitions.

“I thought this was just a regular water fountain,” you tried to defend yourself.

“It is, I’m just messing with you,” Kevin shrugged, causing you to exhale in relief and slap Kevin’s arm.

“That was awful of you,” you scolded, unable to hide the large grin making its way onto your face. “You suck.”

“So I’ve heard,” Kevin retorted easily. “Hi. Thanks for coming.”

“Thanks for inviting me,” you replied. “So, when am I going to see your pieces?” you asked, motioning around the room. It was filled to the brim and people were bustling around the room to get a good look at every piece.

“Right now if you’re up for it,” Kevin suggested, waving as Juyeon and Sunwoo made their way over to the pair of you. You had excused yourself to get some water when Kevin spotted you and came over. “Hey guys. Sunwoo, good to see you again.”

“You too,” Sunwoo replied courteously, which was unlike him. Sunwoo knew Kevin vaguely through Juyeon, who was the same age as Kevin and had a lot of classes with him, and Eric, who Kevin often hung out with because they both spoke English. “Any of these yours?”

“A few,” Kevin said modestly.

Sunwoo nodded, looking around. “Are they good or are they more… conceptual?” he asked, his own way of asking whether or not Kevin’s art was a piece of crap or not.

You rolled your eyes. “Your eloquence astounds me, Sunwoo,” you said sarcastically.

“Well I might as well get to the point,” Sunwoo chided, glancing back at Kevin. “So?”

Kevin, who was observing you and Sunwoo with the same amused smile that Juyeon was, motioned the three of you over as he led you in the direction of his drawings. “I’m not so sure if they’re good, or conceptual, but I suppose you could judge that for yourself,” he told Sunwoo, coming to a halt in front of a display of drawings.

The drawings were lively and bright; colours in the form of pastels and charcoal bringing richness and warmth to the image. Most of his drawings depicted a faceless person. There were multiple drawings where the person was being portrayed from the back, and ones that were head-on didn’t have any facial features.

“These are amazing,” you breathed out, enchanted by the creativity of the drawings, as well as the immense detail that went into them.

“I like them,” Sunwoo decided, causing Juyeon to nod in agreement.

“They’re really good,” Juyeon complimented his friend, patting him on the shoulder. “I’m really glad you decided to put something on display this year.” Juyeon knew all about the artistic slump Kevin was in last year, so he didn’t have any art on display.

Kevin thanked Juyeon quietly, still studying your expression. “Can I ask why they’re faceless?” you asked, tilting your head as you studied the drawings further.

“Ah, that,” Kevin began, an uncharacteristic shyness appearing in his tone. “Well, I’ve been inspired by somebody for a few months now,” he explained. “I suppose I made my drawings faceless because I don’t want people to know who my muse is. I’m not ready to face how I feel when I draw them yet, and I think it’s too personal to put in an exhibition.”

You nodded your head, understanding where he was coming from. “That’s really great. I hope that one day I’ll get to see their face,” you said kindly, genuinely enjoying his art. Your eyes widened as you realised something. “Hey, do you know the other students in your major well?” you asked him.

Kevin raised an eyebrow at your sudden change of topic. “Yeah, I think so. We’re a small major and I have all of my 300-level classes with all the same people. Why do you ask?”

“Would you be able to recognise one of your peer’s work?” you inquired, the sketchbook in your dorm room burning a hole in your mind. He might be able to solve my curiosity.

“Maybe,” Kevin drawled slowly. “Why?” he found your sudden change of pace surprising. “What’s up?”

“Well, I found someone’s sketchbook in one of my classes and I was wondering who it belonged to,” you began, hesitating before bringing up the sketchbook you found in your Psychology class. “But they didn’t put their name on it so I can’t return it to the owner. It was really detailed and skilled work, so I thought they might be a fine arts major.”

Kevin’s heart plummeted into his stomach.

His worst nightmare had come true: you had found his sketchbook. His sketchbook that was filled with his heart-felt drawings of you. And here you were, asking him if he knew who it belonged to. Somehow, it was equal parts thrilling and mortifying.

Sunwoo, having heard about your secret admirer decided to check out a different part of the exhibition, but Juyeon – who was hearing this for the first time – stayed out of curiosity. “You found someone’s sketchbook?” he repeated. “What was in it?”

You laughed awkwardly. “Oh. Well, here’s the thing… There’s some drawings of me in it,” you admitted, feeling shy about divulging everything about the sketchbook to Kevin. “I just… I guess I want to meet the person that made me feel so vibrant and beautiful when looking at the drawings.”

“You have an admirer,” Juyeon realised, beaming at you; eyes squinting into little crescents. “That’s adorable. Does it say anything inside?”

“Yeah it does, actually,” you told him, giving him a smile before meeting Kevin’s eyes again. “All of the drawings are signed with the handle Moon scribbles,” you recalled. “No name or phone number, though.”

Juyeon’s brows furrowed together. “Kev, isn’t Moon scribbles-“

“A really interesting name?” Kevin cut Juyeon off, sending him the clear message that he wasn’t ready to tell you about the fact that you were his muse and he couldn’t stop thinking about you.

Getting the message, Juyeon eagerly agreed, thanking Kevin for finishing his train of thought. “Um, I don’t think I’ve heard of it before. But if you show me the drawings, maybe I could recognise the style?” Kevin suggested, coming up with a solution for you to find the owner of the sketchbook.

“That would be really great, actually,” you acknowledged. “I could bring it by the next time we hang out,” you suggested, excited to figure out who you should thank for their hard work.

“Next time?” Kevin echoed, excitement filling his stomach. “Are you really so eager to solve your mystery?” he teased you.

“Well, you’re not such a bad addition,” you added with a wink.

Kevin’s heart soared.

You met up with Kevin in the library a few days later to show him your sketchbook. It was good timing because you definitely needed to study for your Psychology class after zoning out in your last few lectures, so the library was the perfect setting to meet.

“Hey,” you greeted Kevin, taking the seat next to him on one of the sofas in the more secluded area of the library.

“Hi,” Kevin mumbled in return, his voice sounding quieter and more hoarse than usual. At first, you thought it might be the fact that he had to whisper that made him sound more quiet. Then, you spotted the dark circles under his eyes and the fact that he was wearing glasses, which he didn’t normally do.

“You okay?” you asked him, seeing him stretch out and yawn in his seat.

“Me?” Kevin murmured, meeting your gaze with tired, glazed-over eyes. “Yeah, I’m good.”

“Not to sound like an asshole who’s telling you that you look terrible, which I’m not, but you look really tired,” you had to tell Kevin. “Are you sure you’re up for this? You look like you could use some sleep.”

“Sleep,” Kevin said the word like it’s funny. “Sleep and I… we aren’t friends.”

You smiled sympathetically at your new friend. “Up all night studying?” you wondered.

“Insomnia,” Kevin corrected you.

“Ah,” you nodded in understanding. “So sleep is… a distant acquaintance?” you played off his previous joke.

“Something like that,” he allowed, moving his glasses up onto his forehead to rub his eyes. “I’m good, though. I look like this most days, don’t worry about it.”

“If you say so,” you trail off, your concern still not being calmed by Kevin’s explanation. “We can do this anther time if it helps, though. I wouldn’t want you to be unwell because of me.”

Kevin grinned, adjusting the beanie on his head. “But I couldn’t possibly be unwell if I’m around you,” he said, pointing his finger in the air as if he had made an excellent realisation. “Now, show me the sketchbook.”

You pulled the sketchbook out of your tote bag and handed it over to him.

Seeing it right in front of him, Kevin could confirm that it was definitely his sketch book that you had found. Although the chances of another person on campus being entirely smitten by you to the point where you became their artistic muse was slim, it wasn’t zero.

“Can I,” he motioned to the sketchbook, asking for permission to open it. It was incredibly ironic, but Kevin was too embarrassed to come clean about the sketchbook being his.

“Go ahead,” you nodded, telling him to flip through the pages.

Kevin did so, pretending he was seeing all the drawings for the first time. He paused on every page, looking over the details in the sketches and the way they realistically depicted your features. Even though he was the one who drew them, Kevin could admit that the drawings were really great. They were great because he appreciated the subject and was inspired by you. That much was clear to anybody.

“Wow,” Kevin said when he was done looking at all the drawings, holding the sketchbook on his lap. “That’s… you,” he observed, as if he didn’t already know.

“So I’m not crazy?” you asked immediately, biting your lip. “That’s me?” you glanced down at the open page in front of Kevin, seeing the resemblance between you and the person in the drawing.

“Oh it’s definitely you,” Kevin confirmed. “Unless you have an identical twin somewhere out there, there’s no doubt in my mind that it’s you.”

You let out a relieved sigh, leaning back onto the sofa. “Okay, good. I thought I was being really shallow and presumptuous at first but it’s good that you agree,” you told him, feeling a weight being lifted off your chest. “So, does it look familiar?”

“I’m not sure,” Kevin replied vaguely, wondering how he was going to get himself out of this one. “Do you think I could keep this? Maybe look over it a few more times when I’m not about to pass out,” he added.

“Sure,” you allowed. You trusted Kevin enough that he wouldn’t lose the sketchbook, since all of your mutual friends spoke very highly of him. Besides, you were becoming more impressed by him every time the two of you met. “I hope something comes up. I looked moonscribbles up on Instagram but their account is private and they haven’t responded to my follow request yet.”

Kevin had completely forgotten about his private art Instagram account. Before he was inspired by you to draw, he was in a serious slump and had been spiralling downwards. In this time, he made his Instagram account private in an effort to not think about it too much. Kevin scolded himself for not realising that you would look him up on social media to find him.

“That’s too bad,” he said sympathetically. “Maybe they’ll respond soon?”

“I hope so,” you mumbled, sighing. “I just… I want to meet them.”

“Just out of curiosity, why do you want to meet them so badly?” Kevin wondered. “Because they drew pretty pictures of you?”

“Kind of?” you replied unsurely. “That’s definitely part of it. I guess I wanted to meet somebody who thought I was vibrant and colourful and beautiful,” you shrugged, glancing down at your lap. “Because I don’t think that about myself at all. It’s why I suck at acting, and it’s why my cast mates hate me. I just thought that if somebody out there really thought I was special, maybe I would have a reason to believe it, too.”

Kevin felt butterflies rising in his stomach again, but not in a fluttery, nervous way. He was anxious about what was going to happen. “I’ll do my best to help out,” he said gently. “And Y/n?” you looked back up at Kevin. “I think you’re special,” he admitted. “A lot of people do. Juyeon, Sunwoo, Eric, Younghoon… You don’t need Moon scribbles to be special, you’re already special to us.”

A grateful, shy smile spread across your lips at his words. “Thanks, Kev. For your help, and for saying that. I really appreciate it,” you acknowledged afterwards, realising that Kevin was going out of his way to figure out your mystery while he was dead tired.

Noticing the shift in atmosphere, you cleared your throat and changed the subject, heart hammering. “I’m going to stay here and study for my Psychology class, so you don’t have to stay if you’d rather get some sleep.”

“Psychology?” Kevin echoed. “Are you taking it with Professor Shin?”

“Yes,” you groaned. “She talks so fast that my hand feels like it’s going to fall off after her lectures,” you complained.

Kevin laughed. “I can relate,” he commented. “I didn’t think you were in my class. I’m in section fifteen, what about you?”

“Section twenty-two,” you said, shrugging. “Although I’m glad to hear that it’s not just my class that she’s driving crazy.”

“Ditto,” Kevin agreed. “I actually have to get some studying done for that class too. You mind if I stay?”

“Not at all,” you promised. “It always helps to study with a friend,” you added, pulling out your notes and laptop from your tote bag.

After setting up all of your work, you quickly got to studying, cross-referencing terms from your notes to the textbook to make sure you didn’t write down anything wrong in your hurry. Kevin was silent and still beside you, which you took no notice of because you were so focused. In your distraction, he soon drifted off to sleep with his pencil still in hand, head lulling back to rest on the sofa as his eyes shut by their own accord.

Forty minutes later, you had finished both of the units on Social Psychology and furrowed your brows at an unfamiliar name. “Hey Kev, did you guys talk about-“ you paused after turning to face your new friend, seeing that he was peacefully sleeping, his head now leaning to the side to face you.

The sight of him sleeping peacefully warmed your heart, especially after he had talked about his insomnia earlier. Smiling, you pulled your headphones out of your tote bag so you could listen to the recorded lectures in favour of waking up Kevin to ask him for help. As carefully as you could, you slid the pencil out of his palm and placed it to the side so he could get some rest.

You spent the next half an hour studying in silence, until you noticed Eric, Sunwoo and Jacob walking up to you and Kevin. “Hey,” Sunwoo greeted you, earning a wave from you.

“Hi guys,” you whispered back. “What’s up?”

“Are you and Kevin dating?” Eric interrupted whatever Sunwoo was about to say, an excited glint in his eyes. “You guys are in the make-out section of the library!”

You made a face. “That’s why nobody’s here?” you realised, looking around and frowning. “No, Eric. We’re just studying together.”

Jacob grinned. “Looks like Kevin’s making really great progress on that front,” he teased. “I’m Jacob, by the way,” he added, since the two of you hadn’t properly been introduced yet.

“I’m Y/n,” you replied. “Nice to finally meet you! These rascals have told me all about you,” you motioned to Sunwoo and Eric, who beamed proudly.

“I’ve heard a lot about you as well,” Jacob replied. “And I’ve come to collect Kevin. If he doesn’t wake up soon, he’s going to miss his Ceramics class,” he explained.

“Aw,” you pouted, glancing over at Kevin. “He looks so peaceful when he’s sleeping, though. And he said he was struggling to sleep.”

“Yeah,” Jacob agreed. “I hate waking him. Believe me, I’m his roommate so I see it all first-hand. But attendance is graded in this class, so…” he trailed off with a small shrug before leaning over and waking Kevin up.

Kevin awoke, eyes blinking drowsily as he took in the image of four people staring at him. “What did I do?” he asked, wondering what prompted all the attention.

You grinned, finding the sight rather cute. “Your wake-up service is here to tell you it’s ceramics time,” you explained.

“I fell asleep,” Kevin realised. “I’m sorry,” he apologised, feeling bad that you were studying in silence when you were supposed to be helping each other out.

“Don’t be, I’m glad you got some shut-eye,” you assured him. “Go get ready for your class.”

Kevin gathered all of his things into his bag and waved his goodbyes, trudging out of the library with Jacob. “So,” Jacob began, a wide grin gracing his features. “That’s Y/n?” he teased.

“Yes, that’s Y/n,” Kevin replied quietly.

“The famous Y/n?”

“Oh my god please tell me you didn’t say anything to Y/n.”

“What should I have said? Oh so you’re the Y/n that Kevin has been in love with all semester! The famous muse! Nice to meet you, I’m the guy that has to listen to him gush about you.”

“Don’t make me hide your guitar.”

moonscribbles accepted your follow request!

You sat up from where you were lying down on your bed, startled at the notification you had just received. Racing to open your Instagram app, you looked at moonscribbles’s account. None of the drawings on their account were of you, so you couldn’t decide if they were the right person. But they simply had to be. They went to your school, they studied art…

Braving it, you decided to send them a private message.

Hi! I think I found your sketchbook in Professor Shin’s lecture hall. How do you want me to return it to you?

You waited for a response, which came within a minute.

You can keep it.

You were pouting over your cereal in the dining hall when Juyeon joined you, his plate stacked high with all kinds of delicious breakfast foods. “Hey pouty,” he teased you, giving your shoulder a gentle nudge when he took the seat next to yours. His smile never failed to cheer you up, which is why your frown caused concern to grow in your best friend. “Why the long face?”

“I’m never going to meet moonscribbles,” you told him, your eyes uncharacteristically sad and shiny when they met Juyeon’s.

He startled at how upset you were. “What? Why would you say that?”

“They accepted my follow request on Instagram,” you explained. “And they told me I could keep the sketchbook. Then they went offline,” you recalled. “I guess I was wrong about them.”

“I’m sorry. Whoever they are, they clearly have no idea what they’re missing.” Juyeon frowned, sympathetic of your situation and confused about what Kevin thought he was doing.

“What who’s missing?” Jacob and Eric took the seats opposite you and Juyeon, their plates equally filled with breakfast foods.

“Moon scribbles,” you said vaguely, not wanting to get into it with anyone other than Juyeon and Sunwoo. While you were starting to get to know Jacob better, you didn’t feel comfortable enough around them to discuss the matter with them. And of course you loved Eric, and he knew your situation, but you hadn’t anticipated feeling so upset about Moon scribbles’s response.

“Kevin?” Jacob asked innocently, picking up his fork and elbowing Eric so he wouldn’t steal his food. “What did he do?”

Your eyes snapped over to Jacob. “What did you just say?” you asked. Juyeon’s eyes widened, mouth slightly open as Jacob revealed Kevin’s secret to you without even realising it.

“I was asking what Kevin did,” Jacob repeated. “You said Moon scribbles, didn’t you? Kevin’s artist handle?”

“That’s clever,” Eric chimed in, innocently eating his food. “Since his last name is Moon, and all.” Then his eyes widened and he realised the situation, his gaze snapping over at you to see how you were handling the reveal.

In that moment, you’d never felt like more of an idiot.

“Kevin is Moon scribbles,” you echoed, dropping your fork onto your tray.

“Oh,” Jacob paused, reading the room as he saw the way Juyeon was staring at him. “Did you… not know that?”

“No,” you told him, having lost your already minimal appetite. “He didn’t say a thing.”

“Oh boy,” Jacob said awkwardly. “I feel like I definitely just messed up.”

“No, no,” you denied, waving your hand in Jacob’s direction. “Not at all. I’m just glad that I know who it is,” you tried to convince him, as well as yourself. “Did you know?” you asked Juyeon. “That day at the exhibition… You were trying to tell me that you knew it was Kevin, weren’t you?”

“Yes, I knew,” Juyeon replied slowly, confirming your suspicions.

For a moment, a dull pain ached in your chest. “Why didn’t you tell me?” you asked, hurt that your best friend had lied to you.

“Because I figured Kevin wanted to tell you in his own time,” he explained. “I wasn’t trying to keep anything from you, I just thought he’d do the right thing and explain it to you himself. It felt like it wasn’t my news to tell.”

“Okay,” you nodded. “I understand,” you got to your feet, grabbing your tray after putting your bag on your shoulder.

Juyeon stood up with you. “Are you upset with me?” he asked. “Because I understand if you are.”

You did your best to smile, not caring if it looked real or not. “I’m not upset with you,” you assured him. “I’m upset, but not at you. I have to get to the last dress rehearsal before opening night, so,” you glanced over at Jacob and Eric, who both looked mortified. “Enjoy your breakfast,” you told them before putting your tray away and walking to the theatre as quickly as you could.

“Hey!” your director greeted you when you came in, beaming. “You’re like a half hour early,” she observed.

“Oh, I’ve just come to go over lines and talk to some friends,” you lied, smiling at her before stepping backstage. The set design volunteers were adding last-minute touched to their sets, and you knew that was where you’d find Kevin.

“Hey,” he greeted you when you arrived in front of him. “What’s up?”

“Moon scribbles doesn’t want their sketchbook back,” you told him, as if you didn’t know that he was Moon scribbles. “So you don’t have to keep looking for them,” you added.

“Oh, okay,” Kevin nodded as if he didn’t already know this. “Did you want the sketchbook back?”

“You can keep it,” you declined, crossing your arms over your chest. “It’s rightfully yours anyway.”

Kevin paused his painting. “It is?” he asked, voice squeaking just slightly in surprise.

“Yeah, Moon scribbles,” you narrowed your eyes at him. “Besides, it’s the only way you’ll get to see me ever again, anyway,” you added, frowning as you turned around to go. “Bye, Kevin.”

“Wait,” Kevin put his fine paintbrush down to stop you from leaving.

“What?” you asked him, facing him with a raised eyebrow. “You know what, I actually really want to hear this. What exactly is it that you’re going to say to save this situation?” you wondered.

Kevin sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I didn’t mean for it to go on this long,” he began.

“That’s a joke,” you accused. “You knew how much this meant to me! Just admit that you were never going to tell me that you’re Moon scribbles.”

“How could I tell you?” Kevin exclaimed, startling you with his sudden increase in volume. “How could I just come forward and tell you that it was me? What would you have thought of me?”

“I’d have thought more of you than I do now,” you retorted. “Look, I get it now. I read the situation all wrong. You don’t think I’m special or vibrant or any of those things. You just drew me because I was there, I suppose,” you decided, feeling your heart dropping in your chest at your own words.

“That is not true,” Kevin denied, shaking his head. “You don’t really believe that, do you?”

“I suppose you might have though I was pretty if you drew me,” you allowed. “But clearly, I was putting too much onto this whole Moon scribbles thing, and it didn’t mean anything to you at all. Which is fine, it doesn’t have to mean anything. It just sucks that you couldn’t just tell me that to my face,” you confessed wholeheartedly. “But it’s fine. You can just go back to drawing your faceless muse now, I’m over it,” you lied.

“That’s not why I didn’t want to tell you that I’m Moon scribbles,” Kevin insisted. “I didn’t want to tell you because I didn’t want you to think I drew you just because you’re beautiful.”

“That worked out well,” you muttered.

Kevin sighed. “I don’t care about your looks, as ironic as that sounds. When I first saw you… You exuded an aura. I know that sounds cheesy and not everyone believes in vibes or energy, or whatever, but it’s true. You inspired me to draw and be creative,” he explained. “But I liked you when I met you. When I saw you in class and when I saw you around Sunwoo and Juyeon. You don’t get it. You are my faceless muse. You have been ever since our Cultural Anthropology class last semester.”

That stopped your train of thought. “You were in that class?” you repeated, confused.

“Yes I was. The first time I saw you… I swear, I haven’t drawn anything other than you since that day,” Kevin’s tone was uncharacteristically serious, and you felt inclined to believe him. “No matter how hard I tried. Flowers turned into your eyes, landscapes became your hair; I was a man possessed. I still am.”

“Then why not tell me all of this?” you wondered, frustrated with the situation.

“I thought that if you found out I was Moon scribbles, you’d just think I was shallow,” he paused. “Or worse.”

You rose an eyebrow. “Worse?”

Now it was Kevin’s turn to sound frustrated. “I mean, I’m not so great and special. I figured you’d be disappointed that it’s me.”

Your heart clenched for him. “How could I be disappointed that it’s you?” you asked him. “You’re great. It’s me who’s awful.”

“You aren’t awful,” he denied. “You’re so much greater than you can see. Don’t you get it? You inspired me to create after the most awful year I’ve ever had artistically. I drew you instead of studying, I drew you instead of leaving my dorm, hell, I drew you instead of sleeping. You didn’t misunderstand anything. I do think that you’re special, and vibrant.”

You buried your face in your hands. “Okay,” you spoke quietly, your mind spinning in circles. “I believe you.”

Kevin nodded. “Good.”

You nodded back at him, unsure of how to continue. “So… You have a sketchbook full of drawings of me,” you decided to tease him, just to bring some of the usual lightheartedness you felt around Kevin back.

Kevin visibly reddened at your words. “I mean… I’d be lying if I said it was just one,” he confessed.

You brightened at his words. “You have multiple sketchbooks full of drawings of me?” you exclaimed.

“I made drawings of you for the art exhibition,” he reminded you. “I haven’t been able to draw anything else for seven months. And I draw a lot, so the sketchbooks just started piling up. Plus my iPad,” catching the delighted glint in your eyes, Kevin cut himself off. “You know what, we don’t have to talk about my iPad.”

You smiled, flattered that Kevin had been so inspired by you. “Well, thank you. For filling sketchbooks and iPads and whatever other mediums with drawings of me. You made me feel seen for the first time in a really long time, and I appreciate it,” you acknowledged his efforts. “Is this why everyone acts so weird when we’re together?” you put the pieces together.

“What are you talking about?” Kevin asked, dreading your answer.

“Eric practically skips over to me whenever he sees me now, asking about you and all kinds of other things. Jacob is a lot more subtle, but he looks at me like a proud dad sometimes,” you explained.

Kevin rested his palm against his forehead. “Why are they so obvious?”

“The real question is: Why was Juyeon the least obvious,” you retorted.

“I think he just wanted us both to figure things out in our own time,” Kevin mused, earning a hum and a nod in agreement from you.

“Hey Y/n,” Younghoon poked his head around the corner. “We’re getting ready for rehearsals. Are you going to be done in time to change?” he asked, eyes flitting between you and Kevin.

“Yeah, I’m good to start getting ready. Thanks Younghoon,” you agreed, grateful that your friend wasn’t making a big deal out of what he might have overheard. Younghoon nodded, disappearing with a wink to get himself ready. “Well, that’s my cue,” you trailed off, motioning to the backstage area where you had to get changed for your last dress rehearsal.

Kevin nodded, slightly upset that your conversation didn’t come to a closure yet. “Okay,” he replied. “I guess I’ll see you around?”

You agreed with him, grabbing your bag from where you dropped it on the floor and making your way to the changing rooms. Before you opened the door, you turned back to face Kevin, who had been watching you leave. “I came to your exhibition, so you have to come to opening night,” you reminded him of the agreement the two of you made.

“I’ll be there,” Kevin assured you, taking it as a sign that the two of you could still – at the very least – be friends.

“Good,” you smiled. “And after opening night, we have a few days off so I would definitely be available, say, Wednesday?” you informed him, hoping he’d get the idea.

Kevin brightened up, his posture straightening suddenly. “Oh?” he stammered. “Would you maybe want to get dinner on Wednesday?” he offered. “Like, a date?”

You grinned, your eye dropping into a wink. “What an excellent idea,” you told him. “By the way, don’t bother asking the boys about what I like, they’re completely clueless. My favourite flowers are peonies.”

“Peonies,” Kevin repeated, accompanied by a nod. “Any preferred colour?” he asked, giddy with excitement at the outcome your confrontation had.

You shrugged. “Surprise me.”

note: okay i know you guys waited forever for this so thank you so much for your patience!! i hope you guys enjoyed it xx

#the boyz #the boyz imagines #kevin #kevin imagines #kevin x reader #the boyz x reader #the boyz scenarios #the boyz drabbles #the boyz fanfic #deobiwritersnet #tbznetwork #kevin moon #2k celebration

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agerefandom · 4 years ago

Text

Little Brother, Big Brother

Fandom: Homestuck

Characters: Regressor!Dave Strider & his mom Roxy Lalonde, regressor!Dirk Strider & daddy!John Egbert

Words: 5,400

Summary: Dirk and Dave are both age regressors, but they have never regressed in the same space. After almost a year of consideration, they’re finally getting together for a playdate with their two caregivers. Everyone’s a little nervous and a little excited.

Content Warnings: Brief mention of diapers. Parental caregiver names. One brief tantrum/bout of separation anxiety. (Important Note: Dirk and John’s caregiver/regressor relationship is a little blurry between non-sexual kink and regression. For example, they have rules and safewords, which I don’t typically write as part of age regression. This is only briefly mentioned in the fanfiction, and both of them still characterize their relationship as sfw agere, separate from their romantic relationship as adults. Nevertheless, I wanted to mention it in the content warnings!)

There was a knock at the door and Roxy perked up, tossing aside the phone she had been anxiously fiddling with. She made her way around the scattered toys on the floor to the front door, opening it to reveal a familiar smiling face.

“John!” Roxy exclaimed, pulling him in for a hug. He happily returned it, wrapping his arms around Roxy’s shoulders and laughing into her hair. John had been a gangly teen, but he had grown into it now, with broad shoulders and a soft stomach that Roxy loved to lean against while they played video games. “It’s been forever!”

“Too long,” John agreed, then stepped back to reveal the other visitor who had been half-hiding behind him. Dirk had his hands shoved deep in his pockets, and he moved with John as if he was tempted to dive right back behind him.

Roxy fixed Dirk with a Look and opened her arms for a hug. He stepped forwards to oblige, ducking his head so the edges of his shades weren’t a threat to Roxy’s perfect face. His hugs had become familiar over the years, brittle but genuine, all long limbs and restless fingers. Roxy squeezed him once, pressing her cheek against his hair, before she let him step back. He didn’t look like he was inclined to talk, which was fair enough. Roxy could guess that they were all nervous about their evening plans.

“Come on in, you guys. Don’t mind the mess, it’s been a busy day.” Roxy showed them in, ushering them to the couch.

“Oh, I understand,” John laughed. He had a backpack over one shoulder, patterned with little red robots. Roxy guessed that it was the supplies for Dirk, who was currently dressed in his usual outfits: unassuming, plain clothes from the newest brand that cost an arm and a leg. Roxy didn’t keep up with that sort of thing, but she could admit that Dirk always looked nice. “It’s hard to keep track of everything when someone’s over-excited.”

“You can say that again,” Roxy sighed. She and John had been good friends over the years since the game had ended, and one regular part of their relationship was chatting about their forays into caregiving. It was different, of course, because Dave and Roxy weren’t dating, but John and Roxy were still two members of the friend-group who dealt with regressors in some form or another. They had found each other a valuable resource to share ideas, tips, questions, and just to vent about their exhaustion occasionally.

“Alright, so we’re getting set up in here?” John asked, looking around the room. “Is that still the plan?”

“Yep, I think it’s the best way to do things,” Roxy said. “Help yourself to snacks, toys, anything apart from the stuffed dinosaurs. Dave’s a little protective of those guys, but everything else is fair game. Do you need anything before I head out?”

“Nope! I think I can work with this,” John said, rubbing one hand across Dirk’s shoulders. Dirk hadn’t taken a single step away from John since they entered, almost pressed against his side. “Give us about fifteen?”

“No rush,” Roxy told them. “We’re happy to watch some TV in the bedroom.”

“I’ll let you know.” John seemed pretty confident, something that Roxy had always envied. She was never sure if she was doing things right with Dave: his younger self was so different from his older self, and he was resistant to talking about it openly when he wasn’t regressed. John and Dirk had much more communication set up, and many stricter rules. Maybe it was part of their relationship, but maybe it was just what Dirk needed. Roxy knew that Dirk’s headspace was more consciously constructed that Dave’s, and he preferred to structure it with safewords and rules, while Dave wouldn’t be able to set good boundaries when he regressed.

“Cool, we’ll be around!” Roxy brushed a hand against Dirk’s arm on her way out, smiling at him over her shoulder. She was excited to see him smaller, excited to see John taking care of him first-hand. It wasn’t that she couldn’t picture it, she just couldn’t picture herself in the situation with them. She fiercely hoped that it would all go well, but of course her priority was…

“Dave!” she called as a soft warning before opening the door.

Her son/not-son was sitting on the floor of her bedroom, working on a puzzle she had bought for him. It was a little more complicated than a normal four-year-old could handle, but Dave’s hand-eye coordination wasn’t quite as bad as a bio-toddler, and Roxy tried to err on the side of something too hard instead of something that would take him five seconds.

Dave looked up at Roxy with wide eyes, his lips pressed together in an expression dangerously close to a pout.

“Oh, baby, are you nervous?” Roxy closed the door and swept down to kneel beside Dave, pushing a hand through his hair.

“Don’t wanna do this,” Dave muttered, hands clenched into fists. Roxy put her hands over his, easing them apart and revealing the puzzle pieces he had been crushing in his palms.

“If you don’t want to, we don’t have to.” Roxy watched Dave carefully. She was excited about their plans, but Dave’s comfort came first. She knew that this was a risky situation for everyone involved, something that she’d been thinking about for over a year, but pushing it wasn’t going to help. “Little brothers are a lot of work.”

Dave visibly perked up at the reminder that he would be the big brother in this situation. The difference in age was one reason why John and Roxy found it so interesting to compare their experiences: Dave was a fairly active toddler, with a lot of curiosity and energy, while Dirk’s headspace was closer to an infant, and he was a largely reactive child, easily entertained by simple toys or a TV show.

“Do we have to play?” Dave’s question took Roxy a moment to put together.

“You mean, play with each other?” Dave nodded. “I don’t think you need to play together if you don’t want to! Dirk is pretty tiny, I don’t know if he does much playing. It’s mostly going to be you and me just like normal.”

“But John?” Dave covered his face, nerves and embarrassment making their way through his regression. His voice came back to his adult voice as he curled inward. “I don’t know if I can do this.”

Roxy hummed sympathetically, giving Dave his space. “Like I said, we can back out at any time. But I know that John is really excited about this, just like I am. He wants to meet you, little one. He already knows he’s going to love you.”

Dave made an incoherent sound of protest, flapping his hands in front of his curled-in knees.

“Anyone would be lucky to spend time with you, honey.” Roxy curled up beside Dave, mirroring his position with a bit of space between them. “I’m so lucky to be your mom. And John loves you a whole lot, he won’t stop talking about it! He’s going to be over the moon that you trust him with this. Even if it only lasts a little while, he’s going to be excited for months. You know him.”

Dave laughed, clearly still out of regression. “John’s a nerd.”

“Oh, that’s not up for debate,” Roxy smiled. “But he’s also a very good daddy when he needs to be.”

“Weird.” Dave shook his head. “Can’t picture him as a dad.”

“I don’t think I knew what I’d be like as a mom,” Roxy mused. “I’m sure that Dirk is just as nervous about it all. I don’t think anyone knows what’s going to happen with the four of us, really. I can’t imagine how much Dirk is struggling with the lack of structure.” Dave chuckled at that. He and Dirk had a mixed but friendly relationship as adults, so he knew exactly what Roxy was talking about. Whenever things didn’t go exactly to plan, Dirk tended to fly off without a single word. Roxy knew that it was his way of trying to stop himself from making everyone stick to the original plan, but it didn’t stop it from being a kind of disorienting response.

“Okay.” Roxy watched Dave as he uncurled from his little ball and took a deep breath. “I do want to do this.”

“Yeah?” Roxy stretched out her arm in an invitation, and Dave scooted over to press against her side. His breaths were long and slow, trying to calm himself down. “It’s up to you.”

“No, I really do. I was excited about it.”

“Alright, then we’ll do it.” Roxy set her hands on Dave’s waist, pulling him gently up to sit on her lap. He was a little bigger than her, but very light. He was the perfect weight when she held him in her lap like this, her arms wrapped around his waist and her cheek pressed against his shoulder blade. “I’m excited too.”

Getting Dave back into regression was a process, but some cuddles, a bit of calculated tickling, and an episode of Loony Toons did the trick, and soon they were both laughing on the bed, Dave’s laughter that free and louder sound that Roxy only got to hear when he was regressed.

Both of them were startled by the knock on the door, but Roxy reacted first, pausing the show and rubbing Dave’s back to calm him down.

“What’s up?” Roxy called towards the door.

“We’re all ready in the living room whenever you want to come out!” John informed them.

“Alright!” Roxy said loudly, then turned to Dave as John’s footsteps retreated down the hallway. “Do you want to finish our episode before we go play in the living room? I brought out your lego.” Dave’s duplo lego collection was a bit ridiculous, but it meant that he could build a house big enough for him to fit into. Roxy stored them in a little void-pocket in one of her drawers, and pulled out the huge rubberneck containers whenever there was a special occasion. This definitely qualified.

“Lego,” Dave nodded, already moving off the bed.

“Okay,” Roxy said. “Now, remember not to shout around Dirk, okay? He’s very small.”

“No shouting for the baby!” Dave repeated at a very high volume. Roxy shrugged internally. There was only so much she could do, and Dave would probably be alright once he was actually in the same room as his older-younger-not-brother.

“That’s right, no shouting around the baby,” Roxy said encouragingly. She opened the door to the hallway, leading the way out. “Do you think you could build a house for him?”

“For both of us!” Dave said.

“Well, I don’t know if we have enough for something that big,” Roxy laughed.

“Gonna make a big house!” Dave wasn’t willing to be discouraged.

“Okay, you can see how big you can make it,” Roxy allowed. Dave was bouncing on each step, clearly mixing nerves and excitement into a desire to run into the room as quickly as possible. Roxy kept their pace slow and her footsteps audible, letting both John and Dirk adjust to the idea that they were entering the room.

As they stepped into the living room, John looked up with a smile. Dirk was huddled against his side, eyes closed and a plain white pacifier hiding his mouth.

“Dirk is sleepy, but he can doze through anything,” John told them softly. “I thought it might be nice for him to wake up to you, when he wakes up properly.” Roxy could tell that Dirk wasn’t really asleep, but it made sense that he would want to lay quietly for a while, adjusting to their presence and the way that they interacted.

“I hope he sleeps well,” Roxy said, and gave Dave a gentle nudge towards the boxes of lego that were stacked in the corner. “Do you think you can play quietly, sweetheart?”

Dave nodded and soundlessly glided over to the lego boxes. That wasn’t exactly what Roxy had meant, but he didn’t seem to have been jostled out of regression by the request, so it was probably alright. Triggering requests usually made Dave age up faster than anything, so his calm unpacking of the lego was a sign that he was still regressed, despite the absolutely silent movements that usually showed his discomfort as an adult.

“Dave is determined to make a big house for him and the baby,” Roxy told John. “He’s very good at lego.”

“Oh, that sounds like a lot of fun!” John swivelled his head to watch Dave start sorting the pieces from the box, quiet and methodical, glancing over to Roxy every few moments. Roxy kept her eye on him and offered a proud smile every time he checked in with her. “Dave, do you think I could help with that? I’m a big fan of lego myself.”

“If you’re quiet,” Dave said in a hushed voice.

“We don’t need to be too quiet,” John laughed. ��Dirk really can sleep through anything.” He placed a fond kiss on the top of Dirk’s hair, and then carefully extracted himself, guiding Dirk’s head to rest on one of the couch cushions. John murmured something against his cheek and then moved away, letting Dirk curl up into himself a bit more, the pacifier shifting in his mouth. “I think you’re doing a good job so far, though.” He squeezed Roxy’s shoulder on his way by, kneeling down beside Dave’s boxes of lego when he reached them. “You give the orders! What can I do to help?”

Dave scanned John up and down, the only sign of his discomfort the pattern of his fingers tapping against each other over and over again. “You can get all the big blue pieces and make them into a wall,” he said eventually, pushing the box between them. “No holes.”

“Can do!” John said enthusiastically, diving into the box with gusto. Roxy chuckled, moving over to sit in one of the chairs and watch. Some things never changed, and one of them was John’s adoration for Dave, clearly. She watched them build together, Dave eventually falling into John’s rhythms and becoming louder, laughing and even knocking over one of the walls on purpose to make John fake a pout at having to start again.

“Play nice, Dave!” she called over, when it was clear that he was considering doing it again. Dave aimed a little frown at her, but settled down and continued his own building.

Roxy settled back in her chair, considering picking up some water from the kitchen. Dave always forgot to keep hydrated as an adult, so Roxy tried to keep a sippy cup always in his reach when he was regressing at her house, but she had left it in the bedroom. She shifted, ready to offer John a drink while she was going to the kitchen, when she noticed that Dirk’s eyes were open and fixed on her.

Roxy froze. She could see the swirling orange of his eyes, the way his long lashes framed them, the angles of his face somehow softer without the sunglasses he wore every day. She felt afraid of the intimacy in meeting those eyes, overwhelmed by a surge of panic that she couldn’t trace to a concrete thought.

“John,” she called, trying to hide her panic. “Dirk is awake.” John immediately extracted himself from the lego with Dave, leaving the regressor with an affectionate hair-tousle that made Dave scowl. He trotted over to the couch and knelt down beside Dirk to give him an over-dramatic set of kisses on his cheek.

“Did you enjoy your nap?” John asked, nuzzling his nose against Dirk’s. Dirk’s eyes fell closed as he laughed, the pacifier garbling the sound. He wrapped his arms around John’s neck, pulling him closer, and John obediently scooped Dirk into his arms.

Roxy found she couldn’t watch the display, feeling too much like an intruder. She bounced to her feet as quietly as she could, trying not to interrupt, and made her way over to Dave, who was entirely focused on the lego house he was making. It was coming along quickly, the bigger lego blocks fitting together into simple blocky structures. Two walls of the house were almost finished, with one featuring a gap for a window. It looked like each wall was going to be a different colour, and the one that Dave was finishing was a bright green.

“I’m fetching your sippy from my room,” Roxy told Dave. “Do you want me to get Rexatorius while I’m in there?” Rexatorius was not in fact a t-rex, but a brontosaur: both of them enjoyed the name anyways.

“Yes, please.” Dave was very polite as a child, his southern accent stretching the words out. “Can I have more juice?”

“You can! Coming right up,” Roxy told him, and headed off to the bedroom without another look at the two on the couch. She collected the dinosaur plushie and the sippy cup, tucking Rexatorius under her arm as she navigated through the living room on her way to the kitchen.

“John, do you want some water or some apple juice?” she called back into the other room.

“I’m good, thank you.”

It still shocked Roxy sometimes, how much they had all grown up. Collecting water for herself in her own kitchen, with glasses she had chosen, offering drinks to guests, having people over for a dinner party… it still felt so foreign. Being twenty-three hadn’t been something that Roxy had ever considered, always focused on making it to sixteen, always focused on making it to the game that would change everything, would save the world, would save her from the empty echoing rooms of the mansion she’d spent her childhood inside.

And here she was, a part-time mother, a part-time host, a full-time adult who was involved in politics, of all things, as well as going into her Masters in ecto-biology with multiple offers for a full-time job afterwards (thanks to their fame, all of the planet-founders were highly desired as a source of publicity and funding for whatever career they wanted to pursue). Roxy, in short, had somehow become an adult.

Roxy shook the reverie away as she rinsed the sippy cup between servings of apple juice, filled a cup of water for herself, and grabbed a bag of chips just in case anyone wanted a snack. Back in the living room, John was settled on the couch and Dirk was on the floor, playing with a wooden puzzle that was made to look like a circuit board.

“One serving of juice!” Roxy dropped it off next to Dave with a kiss and Rexatorius, patting the dino on the back before retreating. Dave could handle his own lego building, and it had never been one of Roxy’s interests. She would happily come to ooh and ahh when the building was all done.

Roxy approached John and Dirk cautiously, and John looked up to give her a smile and a wave to come join them.

“Roxy! Do you want to meet the baby?”

“I would love to.” Roxy pushed away the anticipation she had been feeling and focused on Dirk on the floor, trying to push away all the past experiences they’d had, the fights and the two am vent sessions and the ill-conceived projects they’d come up with together. She knew what regression meant to Dave, but she didn’t know what it meant to Dirk, and she needed to keep an open mind.

“Hey Dirk,” John said, getting down on his level on his hands and knees. “I want you to meet Daddy’s friend, Roxy. She’s Dave’s mom, remember? We came to visit her and Dave.” Dirk glanced up from his puzzle at Roxy, and Roxy was taken aback again by the sharpness of his eyes. There was none of the hazy contentedness of Dave’s regression. Dirk stared directly and piercingly towards Roxy’s face.

“Hi,” Roxy managed. “It’s good to meet you.” She almost held out her hand, and jerked it back. Dirk’s eyes followed the movement.

“Can you say hi to Roxy?” John prompted Dirk. Dirk shook his head, and dropped his eyes back to his puzzle. Roxy tried not to feel rejected, but her heart spasmed. “That’s okay,” John said softly, and smiled up at Roxy from the floor. “Dirk’s not so good at words,” he explained. “What about sharing your puzzle?” John asked, pointing to the piece that Dirk was holding in his hand. “Can Roxy help you?”

Dirk hesitated, nodded, and then held the piece out in Roxy’s direction without looking at her.

Somehow this motion reassured Roxy, something more akin to a shy child than Dirk’s own mannerisms when he was on edge.

“Thank you,” she said gently, accepting the piece and kneeling down. “Did your daddy get you this puzzle?” It was easy enough to find where the piece went, but she took her time looking. Dirk nodded, sucking on his pacifier with a soft sound. “He’s a pretty good daddy, huh?” Roxy smiled at John as Dirk nodded more enthusiastically.

Dirk picked up another piece and held it close as he surveyed the puzzle. Roxy gave him the time to figure it out, and he eventually pushed it into the right place. He picked up another piece and pushed it into Roxy’s hands again.

“Thank you!” She took the piece from him and hummed thoughtfully as she pretended to search for the right place. “Does it go here?” She put it in the wrong place, and nodded with satisfaction. Dirk laughed and shook his head. “No? Are you sure?” Dirk picked up the puzzle piece and slotted it into the right place, still laughing.

“Oh!” Roxy hit her forehead. “Why didn’t I see that?”

Dirk rolled his eyes at her, but he was still laughing.

“I know,” Roxy nodded. “I’m a silly mom, I can’t help it.”

“G’d mmm,” Dirk muttered, his voice quiet and slurred by the pacifier.

“Sorry, sweetheart, what?” Roxy leaned closer, trying to hear him, but Dirk only shook his head emphatically and picked up a new piece of the puzzle, fitting it into place with none of his earlier hesitation.

“He said you’re a good mom,” John interpreted, rubbing Dirk’s back with a calming motion that Roxy recognized from using it with Dave herself.

“Aww!” Roxy pressed her palms to her cheeks, grinning. “I hope that Dave agrees with you.”

Dave’s voice came as if on cue, from over the couch. “Moooom!”

“On my way!” Roxy called back, more softly. She didn’t want to scare Dirk, who was leaning into John’s touch and closing his eyes. She rose to her feet, automatically helping herself with her god-tier weightlessness as she pushed herself upwards. Dave was standing by his house, which had three walls finished. “What’s wrong, baby?” Roxy drew closer, and Dave threw himself into her arms, wrapping his arms around her.

“Don’t go,” he whispered into her shoulder, and Roxy could feel him shaking slightly.

“Oh, no, honey.” Roxy wrapped her arms back around Dave, squeezing him against her. “I’m not going anywhere, I’m your mom. I wouldn’t leave you for the world.”

“I could hear you and you were gone,” Dave protested, curling tighter into her arms.

“I was just visiting the others, over by the couch,” Roxy told him, rocking slightly to comfort him. “Not gone, never gone.”

“I thought…” Dave trailed off, derailing into a mumble that Roxy couldn’t make out, despite her experience with Dave’s rambles.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Roxy soothed. “I love you so much, and I always will. I’ll always be your mom.”

“My mom?” Dave echoed.

“Yes, honey, your mom.” She cupped Dave’s cheek to tilt his face up for a forehead kiss. “No one else’s.”

“Okay.” Dave seemed to have calmed down quite a bit, but he was still holding tight to Roxy.

“Do you want to work more on your house?” Roxy cast an eye over the work Dave had done so far. “Or do you want to meet Dirk?”

“Dunno.” Dave rocked back and forth slightly in Roxy’s lap.

“Well, why don’t you come say hi? You can go straight back to your lego after that, if you’d like.” Dave nodded.

“Okay.”

Roxy helped Dave to his feet, keeping her hands on his and helping him stay upright when he was standing. He wasn’t always clumsy when he regressed, but it was usually a surprise to both of them when he had trouble walking, so she tried to be careful.

“Follow me, sweetheart.” She led Dave over to the carpet, glancing over to see that Dirk was twirling his fingers into the mane of a horse plushie, John singing a soft lullaby. John looked up when they walked in, but Dirk kept his eyes on his twirling fingers.

“Dirk?” Dave said quietly.

Dirk’s back stiffened and then he let out a breath and turned, blinking up at Dave.

Dave’s eyes widened and Roxy could practically see his excitement take over from nerves. Dirk looked quieter and unthreatening without his glasses, his plain white onesie and his long lanky pale limbs curled up against John’s chest.

“Hi!” Dave gushed, dropping to sit beside John and Dirk before glancing up at John and Roxy for approval. Roxy smiled warmly at him, and John nodded and shifted his grip on Dirk so that he was facing out towards Dave more. “I’m Dave!”

“…” Dirk looked at him for a long second, then hid his face behind the horse plushie he was holding.

“You’re a baby, but I’m really old,” Dave told Dirk seriously. “I’m gonna build us a lego house to live in.” Dirk raised his head again, smiling around the pacifier, and Dave smiled back. It was strange for Roxy, to see the instinct-driven space that Dave lived in, that she understood so well, and the difference between him and Dirk. Dirk was so clearly not as regressed, still cautious and deliberate. Maybe this was just him getting used to a new space? Or maybe this really was how he regressed. Or maybe this was how he’d been when he was a baby, making his way around his home in the middle of the ocean.

“Good job, Dave,” Roxy praised, resting a hand on his head. “Be gentle with your little brother.” She knew from talking with John that Dirk reacted well to being reminded that he was supposed to be small, regressed, a baby without responsibilities. Dave was very passionate about being a ‘big boy’ and pushed his limits further than Roxy would like. Another difference between them.

“Do you want to hold him?” John offered, cradling Dirk’s head against his shoulder gently.

Dave glanced back at Roxy, eyes wide. She could tell that he was intrigued but uncertain.

“I would love to,” Roxy said, knowing the question had been directed at both of them. “Why don’t I carry him to the couch, and you can sit with us, Dave? I can read you both a story, how about that?”

“Yeah.” Dave bobbed his head, subdued.

Roxy knelt in front of her two friends, smiling fondly at John and the tender way he handled Dirk. “May I?”

“Of course.” John guided her hands, one under Dirk’s knees and the other cradling his neck. Roxy had carried Dirk before, mostly out of his workshop before John had started taking over the task of disrupting Dirk’s manic work episodes. He had never been so unclothed, her skin touching his as she lifted him into her arms and settled him against her chest.

Dirk wasn’t light, thin but muscled. The only reason Roxy could lift him with ease was because she was taller than him, much to his ill-hidden annoyance when he’d first met her in person. He was the shortest of the eight of them, with Rose a close second.

Roxy looked down at Dirk as she carried him carefully towards the couch, and was surprised again to find him watching her. She smiled gently, even though his eyes were piercing.

“Hello,” she cooed. “Did you like meeting Dave?” The boy in question was following behind them, craning his neck to look at Dirk over Roxy’s shoulder. “He was so excited to have a baby brother.” Roxy shifted her weight back and forth, bouncing Dirk slightly in her arms as she reached the couch. “You are very sweet, I see why your daddy talks about you so much.”

That got a reaction: Dirk’s eyes crinkled, and an unfamiliar burbling laugh came from behind his pacifier.

Roxy gasped. “And adorable too! I should have known your daddy wouldn’t lie about that.” She turned around and settled on the couch, making sure Dirk wasn’t jostled by the movement as she settled him in her lap. Dave climbed up beside her and clung to her arm, wrapping both hands around her left hand and trying to pull it off Dirk’s back.

“Careful, Dave,” Roxy said. “Dirk needs a lot of support when I’m holding him, he’s only a baby.” Dave frowned, but let go of her hand and let Roxy arrange Dirk more properly, his head leaning against her chest and leaving her left hand free to hold Dave’s hand.

“John,” Roxy called. John had been sitting on the floor with Dirk’s toys, beaming quietly as he watched them move to the couch.

“Yes, Roxy?” he called back.

“I think these boys have my hands occupied, would you mind reading us a story?”

“But of course!” John got to his feet and came over, standing in front of them with his hands on his hips. He really did have some proper dad energy, especially with the light stubble that he’d allowed to grow on his cheeks and chin. “What kind of book should we read?”

“Pigeon!” Dave shouted.

Roxy could feel Dirk flinch in her arms.

“Indoor voice, sweetheart,” Roxy told Dave quietly, stroking Dave’s arm and rocking Dirk back and forth to sooth them both. Two kids was a lot of work: she was very glad that she wasn’t a mother to both of them. Even if Dirk was very sweet, and she wouldn’t mind babysitting once in a while. She was sure that John felt the same about Dave: the two of them seemed to have had a lot of fun building the lego together. “Don’t scare the baby.”

Dirk relaxed again at those words, and Roxy held him a little closer. It was unexpectedly intimate, this age. John had talked about diapers and how they both felt like it brought them closer together, but even the experience of holding Dirk while he was this vulnerable felt dangerous, like touching a live wire, yet insanely comfortable at the same time. Where the two feelings met was what Roxy thought of as intimacy.

John was still standing in front of them, and Roxy realized that she would have to tell him what Dave meant.

“It’s on the second shelf under the TV, far right,” she said. “Don’t let the pigeon drive the bus. Have you read it?”

“We don’t read very much,” John shrugged as he went for the shelf and started flipping through kid’s books. “We have a couple board books and Dr. Seuss but Dirk prefers TV before bed instead of a story.”

“I’m not allowed TV before bed,” Dave said accusatorily, and John glanced at Roxy with clear panic.

“That’s because Dirk’s daddy doesn’t take care of you,” Roxy said. “I wouldn’t allow Dirk any TV before bed either, but his daddy gets to decide that.”

Dave thought that over for a bit.

“Can John be my babysitter maybe?” he suggested. “And then I could watch TV before bed?”

“We’ll talk about it sometime,” Roxy laughed. “He’s got his own little one to look after, just like I have you. But if you’re having a good time, we’ll try to get together more.”

“Yeah!” Dave settled onto the couch properly as John came back with the requested book held in both hands. “More time with Dirk and John is good.”

“I agree,” said Roxy, resting her cheek against Dirk’s soft hair as John flipped to the first page and prepared to start reading. “It’s nice to have a bit of company.”

#agere fanfiction #homestuck agere #fandom agere #agere writing #this is one i've had on file for a while! i've read it often when i need an energy boost #regressor!striders is still my favourite agere content ^-^#anyways it took me a while to edit it!#cglre terminology #my fics #my writing #homestuck #tw kink mention #kink mention

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snelbz · 4 years ago

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Swipe Left {Rowaelin Fluff AU}

A/N: We’ve been writing some aaangsty shit lately, and we needed a break to get some fluff out. Enjoy!

As always, written along side the loml, @tacmc.

Attention, all passengers. All flights departing from Adarlan have been delayed, due to inclement weather. Please see the nearest information screen for more details.

Aelin dropped her head in her hands and groaned. She knew she should have taken the direct flight from Wendlyn to Terrasen, rather than booking the one with a layover in Adarlan. She knew she should have, but instead she decided to save a few bucks, and booked the cheaper flight, with the longer travel time.

And now Adarlan was experiencing some of the worst weather she’d ever seen.

As she looked around for an information board at her gate, a brilliant flash of lightning raced across the sky. The accompanying rumble of thunder shook the airport and Aelin begrudgingly accepted that grounding the flights may have been the right thing to do.

She sighed and pulled her phone out, noticing a text from Lysandra. She opened it, finding a picture of her feet shoved in the sand and a drink in her hands, with a text that read, Got my beach, got my beer. All I’m missing is you, bitch. What time do you get in?

She sighed and replied, Flights out of Adarlan we’re just grounded. No clue.

Her best friend’s response was short, sweet, and to the point:

Fuuuuuuuuck

Aelin laughed to herself, but closed out of her messages and began to peruse her social media apps, eventually opening Tinder.

She made a face, looking around the airport and thinking about how stupid it would be to thumb through her possible matches while in a another country. Especially one she wasn’t staying in for very long.

And then decided, why the hell not.

A blonde man who looked far too much like her cousin was the first that popped up.

No, definitely not.

Then a young man with striking blue eyes, raven black hair and a mischievous grin graced her screen. Mmm, maybe…, she thought to herself, scrolling down to read through his bio. Loves dogs, an avid reader, and-.

Nope, to the left he goes. A doctor.

Aelin wasn’t sure she could handle dating another doctor.

On and on she went, finding a flaw in nearly every profile she looked at.

Muscle head. Swipe.

Drinks too much. Swipe.

Doesn’t drink enough. Swipe.

Too old. Swipe.

Too young, she thought, swiping left at the photo of a teen in his high school basketball uniform. He’d definitely lied about his age to get on here.

And then she was pinned in place by the most striking pair of green eyes she’d ever seen.

And those cheek bones, by the wyrd, she was jealous.

She scrolled through his pictures, wondering if the silver hair was natural or if he had to dye it to keep it that shimmering hue.

Gods, he was gorgeous. She looked through his pictures again, every single one of them a candid, but couldn’t help but hear that little voice in the back of her head.

What’s the catch?

He’s definitely too good to be true.

Scrolling down, she decided to read through his bio.

Rowan, 28

11th grade history teacher by day.

Whiskey aficionado and trivia extraordinaire by night.

Aelin blinked at the short and sweet description the man had written for himself and after swiping through his pictures one more time, decided there was no way this guy was real.

She was sure that whoever this Rowan guy was, he may have been an eleventh grade history teacher, and he may have been kickass at trivia, but there was no way in hell he looked like that. No, she was sure that was just some poor, unsuspecting model, with the most kissable, gorgeous face she’d ever seen, who’d had pictures lifted from his personal Instagram. She even thought about trying to reverse image search the model to see if she could figure out who he was. If she did, it would only be fair of her to let him know.

But until then, she wasn’t exactly in the mood to be catfished...again.

She swiped left, sending him to the pile of men she’d rejected.

“Ouch, so that’s a hard no, then?”

The voice came from behind her and Aelin whirled, so fast that her blonde hair fanned out around her.

That hair. Those eyes. That damn bone structure.

Aelin blinked. “I’m sorry, what?”

The man - Rowan, she realized - chuckled. “Can’t say it wasn’t entertaining watching you swipe left on the entire male population of Adarlan.” He smirked. “But after spending so long on mine, I thought you’d at least swipe right.”

Aelin was still stunned. “Fuck, you’re not a catfish?”

A silver brow arched and he chuckled again as he said, “No, definitely not a cat or a fish. All male.”

“So you teach teenagers?” She asked, gesturing to him. “So that’s your real job, even with a face like that?”

He asked, “A face like what?”

“You’re gorgeous,” Aelin said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world, then she realized what she’d said. She covered her face with her hands, feeling her cheeks and the tips of her ears reddening.

But his grin only widened as his eyes narrowed, the most ridiculously handsome, smug look crossing over his face. “Do you judge everyone so harshly? What? I can’t be pretty and smart?”

Aelin’s hands slid off her face as she met his gaze, once again. “I never called you pretty.”

“But you called me gorgeous,” he countered, and at her scowl he breathed a laugh. “I’m Rowan.”

“I know,” she said, and held up her phone. “I cyber stalked you, remember?”

“Ah,” he said, leaning forward. “I can’t deny I did the same to you, Aelin.”

Oh, she liked the way her name sounded on his lips. His voice alone, that accent, had her toes curling.

“Did you swipe right?” She asked, slipping her phone in her back pocket.

Rowan smirked. “Guess you’ll never know, since you decided to swipe left.”

He adjusted the laptop case on his shoulder and winked, before walking over and sitting down at the closest plug, leaving Aelin staring.

————

How to unswipe left on tinder.

The question she typed in her browser mocked her and she sighed.

She picked at her unappetizing chicken - she thought it was chicken, at least - she’d picked up in the airport food court and looked around. The place was packed, travelers from everywhere stuck here until the storm passed. Almost every table was occupied, though she had gotten lucky and found one of the small ones by the wall. She was inclined to stay here until her flight finally departed, but she figured she could at least go to the bar until her flight and give someone else her table.

She was putting her trash on the tray, getting ready to get up when a head of silver hair sat down at the table across from her.

She blinked, watching his every movement as he plopped his tray down on the tabletop. He, unlike Aelin, went with burrito. After consuming her chicken...ish lunch, the burrito looked wonderful. She eyed it with envy.

“May I join you?” he asked, not bothering to wait for her to reply as he unwrapped the burrito from the foil and taking a bite.

Aelin opened her mouth to reply, but her lips snatched shut. She had already finished eating, was ready to go waste her time elsewhere. “I was headed to the bar.”

Rowan nodded, slowly, as he took another bite. He waited to swallow before asking, “So, first you swipe left, then you don’t want to eat with me? Apparently I need to take a hint. Then again...you did say I was gorgeous...so.”

Aelin was caught somewhere between wanting to run and hide, and wanting to jump his bones. The latter was more appealing, but the former felt easier, all things considering.

She pursed her lips. “Did you swipe, right?”

The gleam in his eye was wicked. “Have lunch with me.”

She exhaled through her nose. “Fine.”

Rowan raised an eyebrow. “Don’t act so excited about it.”

Aelin closed her eyes and sighed. She was being a bitch.

Well, she was a bitch, but she was letting her bitch show.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “You kind of...caught me on an off day.”

He looked around while he chewed,at their surroundings, at the people around them. “Yeah, I think we’re all having an off day.”

Aelin let Rowan eat, not asking him questions every few minutes, despite wanting to, though she did respond to his while he quietly ate.

He asked what she did for a living, she said she didn’t know because she was on the way home from graduating college. He asked what her degree was in, she said literature and English education.

He was balling up the aluminum foil and standing when he asked, “So you have a degree in education but you don’t know what you want to do for a living?”

They grabbed their various bags and carry-ons and she shrugged. “Yeah, I guess so.”

He said, obviously, “Have you thought about teaching?”

She rolled her eyes. “Of course, I have, but I have more passion for literature and English than I do for standing up in front of a classroom full of kids only to be disrespected and unappreciated.”

Rowan looked at her, thoughtfully. “I had the same fear when I began, once I got my degree. But, I fucking love history, and my kids, for the most part, are great. If you choose to become an educator...well, the vibe of your classroom is in your hands.”

Aelin’s eyes narrowed but she didn’t protest. “Come get a drink with me.”

Rowan arched a brow. “Is this a date?”

Aelin put a hand on her hip. “Did you swipe right?”

He tilted his head. “Let me buy you a drink.”

“You said you’d tell me if I had lunch with you,” she laughed.

“I didn’t, actually.” He was smirking and Aelin wanted to wipe it off his handsome face, in whatever way she could. “I just mentioned that you should eat with me after I asked and you chose to.”

Aelin opened her mouth to disagree but then snapped it closed. He was right. “You tricked me.” He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye.

She stopped walking and he stopped and turned. She narrowed her eyes at him and said, “Tell me if you swiped right and I’ll have a drink with you.”

He smirked. “Deal.”

She crossed her arms, waiting.

Rowan just arched a brow. “Come on. I’ll tell you after the first drink.”

Aelin’s mouth fell open, but Rowan was walking away, down the terminal. Aelin wanted so desperately to grab him by the shoulders and shake him until he confessed, but she didn’t. Unable to control herself, she only walked after him, intrigued.

“What gate are you flying out of?” Rowan asked as she caught up to him.

She knew exactly which gate it was, but she wanted to see if she could make him squirm. “C.”

She kept her head straight, didn’t glance over at him as he looked at her. She just asked, “You?”

That half smile returned and she knew that he knew she was trying to mess with him. “C, as well.”

They got to the bar and sat down, being waited in quickly, despite the larger than normal crowd. Aelin ordered a jack and coke and Rowan a 7&7.

The bartender gave them their ID’s back and said, “Thank you, and happy birthday, Miss Galathynius.”

She cringed as Rowan turned to look at her. “It’s your birthday?”

She lifted her hands and gave a half-assed attempt at spirit fingers. “Surprise.”

He stared at her for a moment before he said, “You should’ve said something.”

“What’s the point?” she muttered.

Rowan blinked, still watching her through his side-eye. “What do you mean?”

Aelin snorted as their drinks were slid in front of them. “I was supposed to be celebrating my birthday at home, with my best friend on the beach; but, instead, I’m here, stuck at the airport. I don’t even remember the last time I’ve had an interesting birthday.”

Rowan nodded. “If it makes you feel any better, I spent my last birthday in the hospital.”

“What?” Aelin asked, sipping her drink. “How?”

“Horrible food poisoning,” he laughed. “I’ve never been that sick in my life.”

Aelin shook her head. “Maybe we can celebrate our birthdays together.”

Rowan chuckled. “My birthday was five months ago.”

Aelin took another drink and set her glass down. “And?” She shrugged. “It’s someone’s birthday everyday. Why not make it yours?”

Rowan eyed her for a moment, his lips teasing the edge of his glass. Then, he said, “Alright. Fine. Today is both of our birthdays, what should we do?”

“Raise hell, obviously,” Aelin answered, shrugging, as she took a sip from her glass.

Rowan only grinned. “And what does raising hell look like to Aelin Galathynius?”

She smirked, but a thunder clap drew her attention to the windows they sat across from, to the storm raging outside. A crease formed between her brows. “Definitely doesn’t look like an extended layover in Adarlan.”

Rowan watched her, wanting to brush back the hair that slipped from behind her ear. He turned to the bartender and said, “Two shots of Gentleman’s.”

Aelin’s eyebrows raised. “Well, that’s one way to wake hell up.”

The small glasses were set in front of them and Rowan said, “To raising hell, Miss Galathynius.”

Aelin rolled her eyes and threw the shot back.

The bourbon warmed her entire body and she shook her head, blowing out a sharp breath. Rowan was watching her, a small smile on his face. He paid up their tab and they made their way over to the information board by the bar entrance.

“Has yours been updated?” Rowan asked, scanning the flights.

Aelin found hers instantly. “No, still just delayed.”

He nodded. “Mine too.”

“So,” she began. “What’s next on the birthday agenda?”

An easy smile spread across his face as he said, “Presents.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Presents?”

They walked over to one of the small convenience stores tucked in between the Starbucks and the restrooms. “Since today isn’t actually my birthday, I don’t get anything. But you do.”

She looked at the glorified gas station snacks lined up in the fancy shelving. “Oh goodie, a Snickers bar and the latest issue of Erilea Weekly.”

“Is that what you want?” He asked.

She laughed. “Not really. I don’t need anything though.”

“Everyone needs something on their birthday.” Aelin glanced up at him and he was looking down at her.

You could kiss me, she thought. That would be a pretty good gift.

Instead she said, “Okay, then surprise me.”

Rowan’s smile grew. “Gladly.”

Rowan took a step and Aelin followed, but then he froze, and blinked. “What are you doing?”

“What do you mean what am I doing?” Aelin asked, taking a step back, confused.

But Rowan only arched a brow and grinned. “If I’m going to surprise you, you can’t see what I pick out. Go away.”

Aelin snorted but sighed. “Fine. My gate is C-17. I’ll be there when you’re done.”

Rowan’s smile was triumphant. “See you there.”

Aelin headed back to the gate, sitting by the window and watching the storms swirl around them. She felt her phone buzz in her pocket. It was Lysandra, but no picture accompanied her text this time.

How goes the long, boring wait?

She sighed. Long and boring. I have company though.

The text immediately showed “Read” and the grey typing bubbles reappeared.

Company? How?

Where? The airport?

Is he hot?

How did you meet?

Aelin smirked and typed back. I swiped left on him.

The bubbles reappeared and left and reappeared. I’m not following.

He’s gorgeous, so after hardcore staring at this face, I decided I didn’t want to get catfished.

So I swiped left.

And then I turned around and found him standing there, looking just as pretty as his pictures.

She hit send and waited, anticipating Lysandra’s next question.

What’s his name??

She laughed, knowing that Lysandra was probably driving Aedion insane with her commentary.

She replied, Rowan. And no, I don’t have a last name, but I think he’s flying into Orynth and he’s a history teacher.

The message sent and Aelin waited for her reply. The message was read, but nothing came in.

Twenty minutes later, when Lysandra hadn’t texted back and Rowan hadn’t shown, Aelin began to chew on the inside of her cheek.

She suddenly felt ridiculous. Most likely, Rowan had used it as an excuse to get rid of her. They were strangers, and nothing more. He wanted to get her a gift? Bullshit. He probably thought it was pathetic that she was spending her birthday alone in an airport and was getting a laugh out of the whole scenario.

Aelin rose to her feet with the intention of grabbing her bag and going to the ladies room just for something to do, but then she saw him coming toward her, a shopping bag in hand.

“Going somewhere?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.

She dropped her purse back into the seat she’d been occupying. “Just to the ladies room.” She smiled sweetly, hoping he didn’t realize she’d been about to bail.

Granted, she thought he’d bailed on her.

He nodded. “Well, then, I’ll be here.”

He sat down in the spot next to the one she vacated and smiled at her.

Aelin began to walk away, but she turned and looked back at him. “By the way, you’re not, like, a serial killer that’s going to sell my organs on the black market, right?”

Rowan laughed, the sound rich and full and reminded Aelin of a bonfire on a crisp Autumn evening. “No, I’m not a serial killer and no, I won’t sell your organs on the black market.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Or the white market?”

He shook his head, chuckling, “How about this? I have no intention of causing you any bodily harm or removing your organs from where they already are.”

Aelin smiled and nodded, and continued into the bathroom. When she was washing her hands, her phone vibrated again and upon she pulling it from her pocket, she discovered why Lysandra had gone dark.

His name is Rowan Whitethorn. He’s twenty-eight, fit as fuck and looks like he could fuck you into a fit. He’s a teacher at Orynth Prep, where he’s also the coach of the varsity baseball team. His birthday is January seventh and he has a kitten named Snowball.

Aelin sighed and shook her head, laughing at her best friend.

You’re terrifying sometimes, you know that, right?

Her phone buzzed again.

Enjoy, bitch.

Then about twenty pictures flooded her inbox.

She had done a thorough job, Aelin had to admit. The few pictures she sent of Rowan shirtless certainly proved her “fit” comment. She didn’t feel the least bit shamed as she zoomed in on his washboard abs.

Aelin couldn’t help but stare, and gape, before she shoved her phone back into her pocket and went back out toward the gate, where Rowan was still sitting, scrolling through his phone. The second he sat her coming, his phone was put away.

“I was beginning to think you got lost,” he said, cocking his head to the side.

Aelin cleared her throat. “I- yes, I did.”

His eyes flicked to the bathroom, which was a direct line to where he was sitting.

She sat and tucked the loose hairs behind her ears. “So what’s my present?”

She smiled and he couldn’t fight the tugging on the corners of his own lips. He handed her the shopping bag. “Happy birthday, Aelin.”

She opened it up, first pulling out a stuffed teddy bear, that was red and gold, the colors of Adarlan’s flag. In the center of its stomach was a big gold heart. She laughed. “Cute.”

He shrugged as if to say, I know.

She reached in and pulled out a t-shirt that read I’d rather be spending my birthday on the beach, but I’m stuck with a hot piece of ass at the airport.

Aelin threw her head back and laughed. “Where did you find this?”

He was chuckling himself. “You can convince people to make anything for the right price.”

She shook her head and pulled the last item out of the bag. It was a glass shot glass. Aelin didn’t even read the text printed, because Rowan said, “I was hoping you’d take a shot on me and let me take you to dinner.”

Aelin stared at him, blinked, then howled. Rowan watched her as she laughed, heartily, his slow grin spreading.

Once she calmed down, she wiped at her eyes and said, “Well, I can’t say no to that, can I?”

Rowan’s eyes were soft as he said, “I was hoping not.”

Aelin put her gifts back in the bag and said, “Thank you, really. This was sweet.”

“You’re welcome,” he said, softly. “Is that a yes to dinner, then?”

She smiled, and took his hand, resting on his lap. “It’s a date.”

#rowaelin #rowan whitethorn #aelin galythinius #rowaelin au #toab tacmc collab #tacmc toab tag team #throne of ashes and beauty x tacmc collab #shara writes #the shara tag

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morimakesfanart · 3 years ago

Text

Sindria's Prophet #13

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10] [11] [12]

[AO3]

((edited because I figured out to add some more history facts that I think are important))

~POV Sinbad~

"The Kou Empire, huh?"

"That is going to make things risky."

With all of the Generals caught up with what happened in Balbadd, they needed to start planning for King Sinbad's trip to the Kou Empire, as well as catching him up with everything that had happened in Sindria while he was gone.

"LadY YamuRAI H AA AA A" A yell came from the hallway accompanied by the sounds of running.

((Sinbad is hidden on the left. There's a hint of him poking out.))

A panting magician gave apologies for disturbing their meeting and ran to the head of Sindria's magicians. "I wish I knew you were here so I didn't search the tower first~" Then he started explaining about some magical proof. Most of his words sounded like gibberish to the rest, but it was clear that he had made some kind of break though.

Yam jumped out of her seat. "How did you finally figure it out?! Who figured it out?!" She whipped her head to her King, "Sorry your majesty," and then looked back to the other magician.

"It was the work of the Prophet!” the magician answered. "We were talking about her illness and she pulled out scrolls that- you just have to read them for yourself!”

Mori had said that she had written other scrolls before she started coping down Fate. This must have been what she was working on.

Both magicians bowed out to go test out this new information. Before they could leave, Sinbad ended the meeting; there was no way he was going to wait to learn what other information Mori had blessed them with. Ja'far followed as did a few of the other Generals.

When they got into the court yard, the doctors that had been sent to take care of Mori were already pushing their supply cart back to their main building. The magician that had stayed behind spotted them and raised two scrolls up triumphantly. "She let me take the scrolls!"

---

News of the scrolls written by a Prophet spread throughout the Black Libra Tower within an hour. Yamuraiha and the doctors explained their significance to King Sinbad.

If even a fraction of the theories in the scrolls proved true it would completely changed their understanding of how illnesses work. If Mori wasn't sick she would undoubtedly be swarmed with questions and demands for proof. According to the magicians, nothing in the scrolls went against any known information. Instead, they gave explanations to why certain things that had been attempted in the past had failed. What she wrote about 'cells' was what really caught the eyes of the white magicians and doctors. As an example, according to Mori's writing there were blood types and most couldn't mix; that would explain why most past attempts at blood transfusions had failed.

The 2nd scroll showed a break down of even smaller particles, and how the structures of different particles made up everything. This was going to bring alchemic magic to a whole new era. Sure, such things would most likely be limited to high magicians, group efforts, and the Magi, but it looked possible now. A lot of common magic of the current day took extreme amounts of magoi in the past because they hadn't found the right formula yet. Mori's writing -if true- could easily be used as a guide to finding the right order of commands for many spells.

And even more than that, Mori had said that she had even more information to share; she had just ran out of scrolls and ink.

Mori's presence in Sindria, and everything that went with it were Fate and the Rukh's guidance. King Sinbad could see it -the future he wanted.

---

~POV Mori~

In Sindria's Palace there is a Great Bell. It is rung during celebrations, and to signify the King returning home like it did earlier that day, but it's main use was to ring every 2 hours to tell everyone the time since clocks weren't invented yet. So even though I was a sick person trying to rest during the day, I was woken up by the Great Bell every 2 hours... which of course is also situated right on top of the guest tower.

For obvious reasons, I was awake again.

I wish I knew how the others responded to the scrolls. I really wanted to know Yam's opinion most. Those scrolls basically gave away the secret to Yunan's signature alchemy magic.

I still had the first scroll I had worked on -the one on the science behind blimps-, and the last science scroll I had started. That one was on DNA, and reproductive systems. It was the last one I started in Balbadd. I hadn't started working on it until sunrise on my 2nd sleepless night and it showed; there were missing words everywhere, many incomplete sentences, and I couldn't stay in topic.

These mistakes were too great to fix with an ink knife. Editing was going be super annoying and time consuming since I couldn't work digitally. I'd have to physically cut up the first draft to put everything in the right order before making the next one.

Wait- Did this world have scissors???

Back home the first evolution of shears that could be labeled as scissors was in Roman barber shops in the last hundred years or so before Rome fell. China would spontaneous also create something akin to scissors not long after. Reim and the Kou Empire seemed to line up with Rome and ancient China for the most part, so I tend to use them to place the time period, but the dress Princess Dunya wears is centuries off and throws all historical accuracy questions out the window. Rome was long gone by the time boning was added to women's undergarments, and that dress had all the signs of boned corsetry.

Fuck it. I'll ask for scissors and if they don't have them I'll just invent them myself. I had been drafting professionally for the past 4 years. That may have been for microelectronics, but it uses all the same skills; I could do this. I needed to get a ruler -or at least a straight edge- and a drafting compass which they probably have based on the look of maps in the series, and pencils, or at least colored inks if they had them. I probably needed to reinvent the French curve(stencil tool used in art & drafting)...

Since I was struggling to fall back asleep I moved to the table and pulled out my test scroll. It was full of random marks and some of my early drawing attempts that I used to practice with the dip pen -it's also where I wrote down the dreams from the Rukh. I'd write the list of things I needed, rip the section out of the scroll, and pass the list to someone who could get me what I was asking for. I added some living necessities too like sleep wear and a comb.

The maids that came to give me dinner, and next dose of medicine were not pleased that I wasn't in bed -I was an important guest who was sick after all. And I wasn't pleased to have to drink more of that bitter medicine, but we can't have nice things all the time, now can we?

My voices was strained but I managed to communicate enough. I gave them my list, and laundry (the clothes I wore on the boat) before they left. They'd get me the things the next day. I was instructed to sleep until someone brings me breakfast the next day... which is what I was going to do anyway since the sun was practically gone. I might be a bit of a workaholic but I'm not going to let myself pull an accidental all-nighter when I know I'm still sick. I'm far more self aware than that.

And besides, the Great Bell didn't ring at night.

---

Maids brought my breakfast (& meds) the next morning and let me know that my clothes would be cleaned and dry by the end of the day. I guess they didn't use magic for everything.

They also gave me all of the drafting and inking supplies I asked for except for scissors. In one of the omakes Sinbad was shown cutting his hair with a knife as a part of his normal grooming. I had hoped he was just old fashioned.

For the greater good and the future of my own hair care, I drafted up detailed designs for a few different types of basic scissors. They wouldn't look fancy, but hopefully I had put enough of a detailed explanation on everything for the smith to figure out what I was asking. Steel wasn't developed until the middle ages and some of the counties of this world matched that so I hoped

that God and anime were on my side. I really wanted scissors that would be a good quality.

And if that didn't work I'd just have to get used to using knives and bladed rollers like a regular person.

The Great Bell rung for 10 am. There were at least another 2 hours before someone would show up, to give lunch, that I could ask to take my draft for the scissors to a black Smith.

I should be resting as a sick person. I should be more exhausted and in pain as a sick person. What was making me recover this quickly?

I still didn't feel like laying back down, so I decided to start drafting up the materials and equipment for proving everything I had written in the scrolls I gave the previous day.

Globally, micro-organisms, viruses, and bacteria were not really accept or proved until the late 1800's. Since Magi seems to take place some time around our 100AD-1300, and Yunan hinting at chemical compounds was seen as shocking by Yam, I knew that my bio scrolls were probably causing an uproar in the Black Libra Tower. I refused to use actual people or wait for an outbreak to prove it like how it happened in history -like how John Snow proved it when finding the cause of cholera outbreaks in 1848 and 1854 England. No, I needed to show how to prove these things in a lab, and to do that I was going to need to explain how to keep samples and invent a way to see microorganisms.

First was for a glass petri dish and other containers for samples. I'd need at least 3 -preferably more. I know glass works have been around since BC, and that this world had glass windows in some scenes, but I worried about the quality of the glass contaminating the experiments. I was going to have to boil them beforehand to sterilize them anyway.

Gosh I wish I had access to nonporous, air tight containers, and a temperature controlled environment. The heat and humidity of Sindria could easily mess everything up.

Wait... I suddenly remembered a scene from the Magnostadt arc when they showed how a sample was being stored. They already had good enough glass. I knew there were magic bio experiments but I had no idea how they worked.

With the realization that I was getting ahead myself, I switched to writing about how to use the scientific method to test for germs. It was basically the bread in a bag test to teach young children about germs but with petri dishes. I also wrote about how to analyze samples with a microscope to see micro organisms so I was going to have to figure that out next.

Lunch came as the perfect break.

Just thinking about reinventing this thing made me nervous. I knew magnifying glasses existed in ancient Rome, but they would be nothing like what I was used to. I had to explain how light moves and made multiple diagrams showing how concave and convex lenses affect light as well as the material of the lens. I ended up also showing how to make a telescope even though I knew Yam already had one.

Magicians were the only ones shown with glasses. Maybe now the rest of the world could have them too.

4 o'clock came and so did 3 doctors and a magician. It was less than yesterday, but still more than necessary to treat or analyze one person. I only recognized one of the doctors from the previous day. All of the new faces looked nervous. None of them looked young by any measure, so I really doubted this was their first time treating someone.

They weren't happy to see me at the table and made me return to my bed -their loss.

The doctor from the previous day was the one doing most of the talking. "Your recovery is amazing. You will most likely be better in another 3 days at this rate if not sooner. It's practically a miracle."

I smiled. "It's pretty shocking for me too." As long as I spoke quietly and kept my comments short, I found I could talk again for a bit.

The doctor was silent for a moment before changing the subject. "I know you need rest, but would you be willing to answer a few questions about those scrolls from yesterday?

The 3 other men looked expectant. This was why they were here.

"I don't mind as long as you don't make me talk too much."

Then came the question I was expecting since I had first made the scrolls. "I know you are a Prophet and the information came from your visions but is there any way you can prove what you wrote?"

I pointed to the table with the scroll I had started earlier. "I can't prove it with the current equipment I have, so I've been drafting up the needed equipment and processes for proving it."

They all turned to look at where I was pointing.

I added, "It's not done, but you're welcome to read what I have so far."

I was thanked as they went to the table they had called me away from when they entered.

'He called it 'visions?' Really?' I had to ask Sinbad later what he was telling his people about me so I could keep the story straight.

The magician confirmed for the others what I wrote about light bending. There was magic to do that, but not everyone is a magician. I had just invented a way for non-magicians to bend light.

Just wait until I show them a prism that can split light into colors. Or teach them how light is perceived in the eye. Or even better, show them the double slit experiment that proves that light is a particle not just a wave... Did they know light was a wave yet?

"Lady Prophet."

I was pulled out of my thoughts.

"You said this isn't finished and there is plenty of space in this scroll for more, but would you let us take this back to the tower so we can get started?"

I wanted to say 'no.' I was still coming up with things to add to it, but I also knew that holding things back because I wanted to save paper was a fool's game. Besides, I could always add more to it later.

I nodded and they thanked me before making me promise not to leave my bed. They were grateful for this new scroll but not at the expense of my health -they were doctors after all.

And then they left.

It was probably about 5pm if my internal clock was on schedule, so I had about an hour before the next ring of the Bell.

Even if I wasn't a man of my word, I would have lost the motivation to work with my current project taken from me while I was still in the middle of making it.

So, I did the thing I grew up doing when I was bedridden from illness: I looked out the window. From the bed I could only see the tops of the buildings on the other side of the courtyard. The Tower that was just poking in from the left had to be the Black Libra Tower.

The waves in Sindria were calmer yet stronger than those in Balbadd. It was probably due to Sinbad's influence. He brought stability and security to his people. I could understand why so many chose to follow him or ally with him. But I knew where all this would lead. As he obtains more power and influence he will stop being able to see himself from the pedestal that he and everyone else put him on; his greed will make him blind to the wants and needs of others, and like a middle aged parent that isn't ready for their child to leave the nest he will take out his frustration on the world that was moving on without him. When Sinbad dies at the end of the manga, Drakon realizes that they all put too much on Sinbad's shoulders.

To change Fate, I was going to have to make sure I never put him on that pedestal nor rely on him for much. And I was going to have to convince the 8 Generals to do the same -or at least to start pulling more of the weight.

The 6 o'clock Bell came faster than I expected, as well as my dinner not long after. They brought my clean laundry, a sleeping gown, and some other common clothes and things for my convenience.

I would have preferred something much shorter for the night gown since I hate having a lot of extra fabric around my legs when I already have blankets. I was not going to risk being walked in on by doctors or whoever when sleeping naked, so I would make do for now.

There was no way King Sinbad wasn't going to reward me for those scrolls. If it was some kind of treasure I'd sell it and buy a new wardrobe for myself that actually suited me, and if the reward was a request then I would ask that he pay for everything directly.

The light coming in my windows changed, and I watched my 2nd sunset in Sindria.

When Sinbad found this island 10 years ago, he completely terraformed it. He didn't get rid of all of the vegetation that was here, but he did break down one of the sides to allow for easier access by boat. The side he carved out faced northish towards all of the other known countries, so no boat would have a reason to circle the island. It was a decision that would benefit the merchants and make it easier to defend.

It also meant that my windows faced west, so I could watch the Sun set every day. I couldn't help but see that as a blessing and a curse. Sure not getting the sunrise meant I'd need to put more effort into

waking up in the morning but that wasn't the part I was worried about.

See- The thing is... I have synesthesia (having 2 or more senses overlapping). I see sounds, letters, and numbers as colors and textures. I have it mild enough that I can normally block it out so it's not too distracting (thank God because music is a main stim), but sometimes I'll hear something and get overwhelmed by how it looks.

Each letter and number is a color. So every voice can make every color, but language, pitch, tone, and accent all affect the colors and textures I see from a person's voice like a filter. There have definitely been some people that I struggled to give my full attention to when I first met them because I was entranced by how their voice looked. The more I hear a person's voice the more I'm able to move its visuals to the background so I can focus -desensitizing myself to it.

Luckily, Sinbad's voice is normally not so distracting that I stop paying attention. Since it's like a merger of every voice actor I've heard play him (All the characters I had met so far were like this.) I'm already desensitized. The similarities across all of the VAs meant that his voice looked like a sunset -full of deep purples and magentas, and bright reds, peach, and gold, and with a smooth and flowing texture like painting in acrylic with a wet brush -like a painting of the last moments of a sunset.

His voice was as pretty as he was.

I hadn't actually gotten to see or hear him for a whole day. But I'd get to look at his voice's equivalent every day while living under his protection.

It was frustrating to admit -I barely knew him as a real person- yet I couldn't deny that I missed him. I feel asleep watching the sun set.

((I wasn't going to write about my synesthesia, but this is my fanfic and I thought it might be fun to reference the colors peoples voices make when the characters talk. I'm not going to paint every VA and head cannon, but I will describe them as I go. Ja'far's Japanese and English VAs have voices that look very different so finding the middle ground is proving tricky.

Also, anyone who noticed that the purple I see in Sinbad's voice is the same as the purple I've been using for the illustrations and comics is super smart and cool.))

#magi prophet fanfic #magi fanfiction #magi fanfic #sinbad magi #king sinbad #magi sinbad

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bagadew · 3 years ago

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The Great Ace Attorney Playthrough: The Adventure of the Unbreakable Speckled Band (Part 2a)

Last Time: A day of terrific highs and crushing lows, as I (Ryunosuke) met Herlock Sholmes The Great Himbo Detective, danced around with him solving crimes, and discussed the secret pet of the Russian teenager next door. Unfortunately this all happened because I (Ryunosuke) have been accused of murdering Kazuma, the best character in the game, whom I doomed by finding hot. Also we didn’t even get to see the Russian teenagers secret pet, so what, I ask you, is the point?

(Quick note before we start, because the investigation parts take me a lot longer, I’m going to break them down into chunks of daily progress. If anyone would like, when I’m finished I’ll link them all together in a masterpost, but this way we should get somewhere (and I won’t spend three hours emailing myself screenshots))

As Biff Strogenov the 1 ton sailor is still guarding the door to cabin number 2, we can’t sneak back inside to look at cute animals investigate Kazuma’s death.

Also Herlock Sholmes has left us so we don’t even have him around to lighten the mood and take our minds off of the fact this games greatest character lies dead on the ground (or wherever they’ve taken the body).

However we do get to go and see my man Hosonaga, who has been investigating this whole time and probably has more information to give us!

(And speaking of Hosonaga, I’ve been doing some thinking, and I’m no longer sold on the TB theory. I think if Hosonaga did have TB he would effectively be a one man bio weapon, and given the amount he interacts with everyone I’m not sure that’s a direction Ace Attorney would want to go in (at least I hope not). However if it’s not TB that, very excitingly for me, leaves something like Cystic Fibrosis as a good option. While Cystic Fibrosis (what I have) itself has only recently started to affect non white people, I believe there is a sister condition with similar symptoms that mainly affects asian people. I’ll look into it further when I next have a checkup.)

(Also just to be clear, I do know that Hosonaga probably has tragic backstory poison cough, but I’ve decided I’m going to just run with this until I’m told otherwise. Get your representation where you can!)

THE FUCK!?!

HOSONAGA WHAT HAPPENED???

Is this like the blood and something that just happens sometimes, or did someone do this to you?

Oh wait one of his little lenses is gone, this was clearly man made!

HE SAID WHAT!!??!!

LOOKS LIKE WE’VE FOUND THE FUCKING KILLER LADS!

Kazuma I’ve already let you die on my watch, please lend me your sword so I don’t make the same mistake twice!

So this is how they outdo Miss Brett huh?

I haven’t even met this man and I’m already setting my phaser to kill.

WHAT ARE YOU, THE NIGHTS OF NI?!!

‘’tis but a scratch’ he says as he looks at me through one and a half eyes as the bruises blossom!

I don’t know if I should consider this man a badass or an idiot!

Also, on a lighter note, he did meet Herlock Sholmes the Himbo Detective, so I can rest easy knowing they’ve canonically interacted

But still, I’m not sure how I’m going to get past this.

This bastard almost certainly killed Kazuma (who we’ve already established is the best) and now he’s started on Hosonaga (who becomes a closer second every time I talk to him).

I am going to rip this man to pieces with my teeth and laugh as I do it

(Editors note: Here I made my tumblr post calling for the captain to catch these hands)

In these trying times let’s just sit for a while and reflect on the new, very important, information we have received. Hosonaga likes ballet.

Thank you Hosonaga, I feel calmed now.

And also, thank you for this autopsy report. You know I always feel slightly weary about trusting these, but since it’s from you...

Dammit now I’m sad again!

So, it looks like someone broke Kazuma’s neck. I’m sort of glad it was something quick, but given Kazuma’s big ol’ sword, I’m confused about how it was done. Though I guess we can eliminate the tiny 15 year old next door from our list of suspects, since I don’t think she’s got the necessary strength.

(Also it’s definitely the captain.)

Well I’m glad of that, but it does mean that whoever killed Kazuma must have crept up behind him and taken him by surprise, otherwise they’d have been struck down by KBS (Kazuma’s Big Sword).

What I don’t understand is how the killer got into our cabin. I’m wondering if it’s one of those things where they were already in the room, but I can’t see anywhere anyone could hide.

So Kazuma was hit on the neck then? I must admit I thought someone had gone at him with their bare hands!

I trust you too Hosonaga!

(You remember that dial that was hovering between Idiot and badass, well guess which way it’s flipped!)

Come on Susato! Trust us too! Believe in me (Ryunosuke)!

... not yet... ok... :(

(Understandable though)

God I wish I could have seen it!

(It’s at times like this I wish I was better at drawing)

Hosonaga: The Susato to Herlock’s Ryunosuke!

Huh?

What’s shoe polish?

The writing on the floor? That’s all I could think it could be?

Ah, the mysterious smudge!

A taste test?

Ok, seriously though, it seems like the mark might have been left by Kazuma’s shoes as they scuffed along the floor. I’m not sure what this tells us, other than that the body was moved, but I think we’d already worked that one out by the fact Kazuma apparently chose to write his final words in Russian!

Farewell Hosonaga...

DON’T TIS BUT A SCRATCH YOUR WAY OUT OF THIS HOSONAGA!

(The dial has spun back to idiot!)

Oh shit...

I’m not even sure what to say or do about this other than feel bad and sad.

Like would it help if I told him I was pretty sure he’d been set up to fail, or would that make him feel worse?

You’ve got a self abusive streak to you, don’t you Hosonaga.

Oh SHIT! HE WAS DRUGGED TOO!!!

Wait a second, I BET EVERYONE ON THE SHIP WAS DRUGGED SO THEY COULD SMUGGLE NIKOLINA ONBOARD!

Except Kazuma because he didn’t like chicken!

I wonder if these two facts are connected, or if whoever killed Kazuma knew what was going on and took advantage of everyone being drugged to commit their murder.

Someone like the captain perhaps?

(And on that note, I’m going to turn in for the night and upload this in the morning)

#tgaa spoilers #tgaa #the great ace attorney #ryunosuke naruhodo #susato mikotoba #kazuma asougi #satoru hosonaga #the adventure of the unbreakable speckled band

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orsuliya · 4 years ago

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Guess what, it’s time for more married!Awu/XQ headcanons, part 2 of who knows how many. Beware of the sappiness!

Once it becomes clear that Xiao Qi and Awu have wildly different ideas about educating children, the denizens of Ningshuo Fortress draw a collective breath. Amusingly enough, it never comes to an all out fight like the one people have been expecting… but still a rather interesting time is had by all.

See, there is no doubt that raising a legion of soldiers is as much out of question as raising a glasshouse of tropical flowers… or root vegetables. That much everybody – from Ah Li Ma to Tang Jing who were both asked to consult on the matter – can agree on. The devil lies in the details. Reading and writing is paramount, but is calligraphy really necessary? Sewing is obviously a must for all, but is fanciful embroidery? Every child should be competent with at least one weapon, but ought they also learn to play instruments, even those with no particular talent for it? At least rudimentary drawing is useful all across the board, no argument to be had there.

The problem is not that Awu and Xiao Qi cannot find a compromise in each of those cases – they absolutely can. Or rather they could... if they were not so careful of offending each other. There comes a time when Xiao Qi blurts out that a princely education is no guarantee of a clear mind or an honourable heart… and then spends the next day or two being strangely apologetic. Which Awu certainly notices, for all that she has no idea what might have caused this sudden development. Yeah, that comment didn’t really register, at least not in the way Xiao Qi fears it did. And yes, Zitan is that much of a non-entity in Awu’s mind.

At the same time Awu might have been dancing around certain subjects, loathe to admit that her husband’s writing is sufficient for the purpose, but would absolutely prevent him from pursuing any kind of serious career in civil service. And since they want their kids to have options, maybe they should think about employing a calligraphy master after all.

Don’t worry, they come clear on both issues! What else are their nightly hug-discussions for, if not resolving potentially painful matters in a relaxed, constructive and mutually satisfying manner?

______________________________

Why would Awu be dancing around certain subjects related to Xiao Qi’s level of education? It’s not like he was ever particularly sensitive to such matters as class difference, right? No sign of inferiority complex there, that’s for sure. Well…

When Awu and Xiao Qi were preparing to leave the capital, Asu made an entire production out of his sister’s upcoming departure. Ningshuo, for all that it may be paradise itself – if one listens to the locals – is rather… provincial, right? No decent wine to be had, no silks, golden bathtubs, first-class inks, high-quality perfume or incense and if there is one decent guan to be had out there, then Turnip will eat his own most decorative one!

Not that Turnip ever comes out and says that Ningshuo is his idea of hell, but still. There is a reason why Xiao Qi prefers not to take part in this whole packing rigmarole; he wouldn’t want to distress his brother-in-law too much… or rather more than he already does at court. Awu takes this brotherly care with good humour; Asu is Asu and it’s true that he would never be able to make it in Ningshuo, but they’re very different Wang breeds and she has no doubts that she will absolutely thrive once there.

The thing is that once they settle in Ningshuo, Xiao Qi starts making those little comments. Nothing really overt and really, they’re made in jest more often than not… But it’s concerning all the same. Self-deprecation is not a good look on Awu’s husband! Well, it totally is, but there are much better ones, so it’s time to stage an intervention.

The next time Awu hears that a Princess like her could have never imagined she would be forced to toil in the field, she snaps. Not like they were toiling anyway – marking out the best pastures is hardly a back-breaking work! So what does she do? Well, first she waits until the evening… and then she immobilizes her husband. True, he may still try to get up while she’s in his lap, but this way he would be forced to take her with him! It’s truly diabolical.

As her second step she asks – very seriously – who is always right in their household and is it true that it’s Princess Yuzhang. Prince Yuzhang, unaware that he’s entering a trap and also rather distracted with what’s in his lap, admits that readily enough.

If Princess Yuzhang is always right, declares Awu, and I am Princess Yuzhang, then what I say must be the absolute truth. And what I say is that you are a silly, silly man. There is nobody else that I would ever wish to call my husband and nowhere that I would rather live but here, by your side, building a future for us and our children. Why, I wouldn’t exchange our current life for any crown and I am something on an expert on those.

It works rather well, that’s as much as I will say on the matter.

______________________________

They do end up employing a calligraphy master for the children. And a painting master. And a slew of other masters as some of the kids get older and develop specific talents. Besides, there is nothing that says they need to limit their educational efforts to their own legion. Ningshuo’s population is booming and there is no better time to found a school or twenty for local children.

Of course most established scholars are very used to comfort and not really used to long trips. In short order, Ningshuo becomes the number one destination for young adventurous men of letters, most rather lacking when it comes to illustrious family background. But they are not the only ones interested in moving to Ningshuo: a good number of respectable old masters also decide to do so.

Turnip Wang tries to warn his sister that she’s playing host to a whole host of dangerous free-thinkers, some of them openly critical of this whole idea of monarchy. Oh, the horror! Awu simply looks at her harried sibling with a perfectly straight face and says that she hasn’t noticed any danger other than the danger of having exceedingly eloquent dinner-companions, which sometimes means that food grows cold before anybody even starts on it. Xiao Qi is very pointedly suppressing a smile in the background.

______________________________

Xiao Qi and Awu are that unbearably cheesy married couple who remains staunchingly and embarrassingly in love even after twenty, thirty years of marriage. And they have absolutely no qualms about public displays of affection. Which leads to some rather amusing moments while at court, but that is an entirely different story.

Now, their kids – both bio and adopted – think it’s the bee’s knees that their parental units love each other so much… but could they tone it down? Just a little? Would a tiny smidge of dignity be totally out of question? There is nothing fundamentally wrong with Father picking Mother up… but must he do it in the middle of the courtyard? And let us not even speak of farewell hugs. And the teasing. Oh, the teasing!

It gets much, much worse once the kids grow up and start pairing off. See, only now do they start to realize what some of their parents’ little quirks actually mean. And most of them mean that Awu and Xiao Qi – grey hair and all – are not that far removed from a pair of newly-weds. More that one son-in-law gets absolutely flustered – some into speechlessness – by the ever-powerful hearteyes. For some reason daughters-in-law deal with this situation much better, although approximately every second one develops… certain expectations.

______________________________

Awu and Xiao Qi do not get it on nearly as often as those poor horrified kids might think. That is they do get it on quite a lot! But it’s far from the only way of marital closeness they enjoy.

The first time Awu and Xiao Qi take a bath together establishes a routine that lasts for the rest of their lives. Dressing and undressing is Awu’s time to be petted and made much of, but bathing? Ooooh, that’s a wholly different matter.

That first time they get into a tub together it’s actually Awu who sits behind Xiao Qi and starts washing him. At first he is more than a bit bashful about it and tries to turn the tables on her, but she is relentless. Finally he starts to relax and once Awu gets to washing his hair, his state can only be described as utter contentedness. There might be some neck kisses and soothing scratches to be had as well, both of which only draw him deeper into a dreamlike trance.

After the water grows cold, Awu dresses them both in soft nightime robes and leads Xiao Qi, still pretty out of it, to bed. Not to have sex, mind you. Just to lie down and breathe together, as close to each other – bodily and mentally – as it is even possible. I am not saying that Xiao Qi cries at any point… Well, of course he cries! It is the first time he’s been treated with this kind of overwhelming tenderness; experiencing such absolute depth of care and love for the first time is an earth-shattering experience for a man who had known so little of both in his life.

They take care to repeat this experience at least once a month; after the first several times Awu no longer has to propose taking a bath together. The first time he actually asks? Her heart grows two whole sizes from sheer pride.

#the rebel princess #monarch industry #Awu and XQ headcanon time #I am so sappy it's getting embarassing #do I care #no not really and it's all your fault anyway #you evil nonnies with your evil asks #you know who you are #I am but a victim and so cannot be blamed for anybody overdosing on pure sugar

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itsclydebitches · 5 years ago

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Discredit Pt. 2: More Recommended Reviews For A.Z. Fell’s

Alright, folks. Some notes first:

1. You all rock. I’m sending out 20k+ virtual hugs for all the notes I NEVER expected to get on this nonsense.

2. This is probably the final section, just because I’m not sure I can adequately follow up part one and it might be foolish to attempt it here. Let alone twice. But for now, here we go.

3. Kudos to the anon who reminded me of Aziraphale’s cash-only policy <3

4. Nicole Y’s review is based off an actual comment I read years ago, but heaven only knows where online it was. I’ve got the memory of a goldfish.

5. Trigger warning for the use of a queer slur in this. It’s the same review as above, number 5 if you want to avoid it.

6. There’s a text-only version of just the reviews at the end, after all the images. I’ll upload that to my Sparse Clutter collection on AO3 in a bit.

Bonus 7. People thinking this is a real shop deserve all the good things in this world.

That’s all I’ve got. Hope you enjoy! 👍

****************************************************************************

I’m a simple guy who likes simple jokes. If there’s a whoopee cushion I plant it. I will call you up to ask if your refrigerator is running and then tell you to go catch it. (Actually that one died out so thoroughly it’s actually capable of a comeback now!). Yes, I’m a dad and yes, I have a t-shirt that says Dad Jokes? I Think You Mean Rad Jokes! which I wear un-ironically every Saturday. All of which is just to say that my wife was well prepared for my stupidity when I walked into Fell’s.

I? I was not.

You see the bibles when you walk in? The ones to the left? Let them be. Don’t even look at them. Definitely don’t pick out the fanciest one you can find and absolutely don’t walk up to the owner with it held in your pudgy little fingers, grinning like a loon, cheerfully asking whether this should be in the fiction section. Just don’t. Mark my words you’ll regret it. Though your wife won’t. She’ll get a great old laugh out of it all.

In conclusion: it’s quite possible that mama did raise a fool and he just got his ass verbally whooped by a guy in a bowtie.

***

Shout-out to Mr. Fell for being the only decent bloke in this city. I’ve popped in and out of his store for years—including before I started transitioning. So he knew my dead name, dead look, whole shebang and I was definitely nervous to play the ‘You know me, but this is what’s changed and are you gonna throw a fit about it?’ game.

You know what he said? “Oh, Rose! What a lovely choice. Crowley dear, why aren’t you growing any roses? Some white ones would look splendid next to my Henredon chair.”

That’s it. He just went straight into dragging his partner for not giving him roses. So hey, Mom? Next time you’re snooping through my social media why don’t you explain to all these nice people why the 50+yo book seller accepts me in ways you won’t. Don’t go telling me age is an excuse or that you’re ‘Stuck in your ways.’ I’ve watched Fell dress in the same damn clothes since I was ten!!

Yeah. Sorry. Rant over. Fell’s a gem. That’s my take. Rose out.

***

Anyone else in the shop when that guy started yelling about buying pornography? And then got escorted into the back room for some ‘private conversation’? Well done, Mr. Fell! Didn’t know you had it in you.

***

Alright alright alright alright I am TOTALLY calm about this.

Went into A.Z. Fell’s last Thursday. Not because I knew anything about the place. Just because I’ve been hitting up every bookshop within a twenty-mile radius, asking if they’re hosting any book signings. Long story short I self-published my novel Blight last month—which you can get for a mere £5 here but I swear this isn’t a promotional thing I’m just BROKE—and have been looking for networking opportunities, tips, stuff like that. So the owner listened politely as I explained all this. Then said he didn’t do anything of that sort, which didn’t surprise me given the shop’s vibe.

But then? Then??? He offered to let me do a signing there??????

As said. Totally calm about this. This man either plans to kidnap me or is actually giving me my first shot at an audience outside my blog. AKA totally worth the risk.

Tuesday the 9th. 7:00pm. Just in case anyone’s interested ;)

***

holy sweet baby jesus i was tripping balls last week you tryin’ to tell me that kING KONG SIZED FANGED FUCK SNAKE IS REAL

***

Witnessed the most perfect exchange the other day:

Grumpy Dude With No Manners: “You. Boy. Where’s the man I spoke with over the phone?”

Mr. Fell’s Partner Who Knows Damn Well Only Two of Them Work There But Clearly Doesn’t Like This Guy’s Tone: “Did this man give you his name?”

Grumpy Dude: “Might have. Don’t remember. Sounded like a fairy though.”

Me: “....”

My girlfriend: “....”

This Poor Sweet Startled Kid On Our Left: “?!?!?!?”

Fell’s Partner In The Drollest Voice I’ve Ever Heard: “None of us have wings. Out!”

***

This shop gets full stars simply because every time I walk in they’re playing Queen.

I mean, I’ve walked in once, but once is enough when you’ve got Crazy Little Thing Called Love blasting full volume.

***

Okay, I’m still kind of shaken up but I needed to write this out somewhere and this seemed as good a place as any.

I spilled my latte on a book. Just tripped on thin air, popped the lid, and chucked a venti’s worth of coffee all over a very expensive looking text. I didn’t mean to, obviously, but it happened and I just started bawling on the spot. Full on sobs because this semester has been absolute hell, I ruined this guy’s antique, there’s no way I can pay for it, I can’t even sneak away because I’m drawing the whole store’s attention...just all the things all at once. I really was straight up panicking and was seconds away from pulling out my inhaler. I couldn’t breathe.

And then Mr. Fell showed up.

Jesus it’s embarrassing to admit but I think I hit him once or twice. On the arms I mean, because he was trying to touch me and I figured, I don’t know, it was a restraint or something. He was going to call the police and hold me until they got there. But then he managed to start rubbing my back and I lost it like I hadn’t already been bawling my eyes out in this shop. Ever cry into a perfect stranger’s chest? I have! But if Mr. Fell seemed to mind he definitely didn’t show it. Just kept holding me while I probably ruined his shirt and then took me into the back and made me a new coffee in this cute little angel mug. He let me stay there while I called my sister and waited for her to arrive.

She’s a good twenty minutes outside of Soho, so we talked for a while. It’s not like Mr. Fell could fix my shit roommate or bio classes, but I guess just talking about it all really helped. I was a lot calmer by the time my sis arrived and Mr. Fell insisted I come back any time I wanted—for browsing or more coffee.

Of course, sis offered to pay for the book herself. I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone look so surprised in my life. “Certainly not!” he said. “Contrary to popular belief, no one should pay for their mistakes. It’s what makes you all so wonderfully human.”

So yeah. Thanks, Mr. Fell.

***

This little shop must have started a book club for kids! Lately I’ve seen the same group of children hanging out at Fell’s. Three boys and a girl. They’re a bit rambunctious at times, but who isn’t at that age? So wonderful seeing literature passed down to the next generation. Even if some of it is rather questionable looking...

***

It’s an honest crime that more of you aren’t talking about what a wonderful bookstore this is.

I’m a book lover at heart and Fell’s always makes me feel like I’m coming home. I just arrived somewhere safe and familiar after a particularly harrowing day. I’ve slipped under the covers of my bed after dinner and a bubble bath. It’s something like that, but with an element of surprise too. One of the reasons why I adore private and used shops over chain stores is that little touch of chaos. You walk in and sure, there are general sections to browse, but everything is just a little bit disorganized from people leafing through books and then putting them back somewhere else. There’s no real record keeping, you’ve just gotta head to one particular corner and hope for the best. It’s not the sort of place you go to if you want something specific because the chances of them having it are slim—that’s just how the universe works—and even if they did no employee knows where it is anymore.

But if you wander the shelves for a while, crouch down low to get a look at everything on the bottom shelf, pay attention to the books that don’t have easy to read titles or any summaries to speak of... you just might find something you didn’t know you were looking for. That’s Fell’s: the comfort of the familiar and the excitement of the unknown.

*** A lot of people might assume that these stories are embellished or outright made up, but as a bookseller myself going on twenty years I believe every single one of them.

That being said, I accidentally moved a rug and found chalk sigils that look like they belong in a cult. Make of that what you will.

***

There’s a special place in hell for 21st century shop owners that only take cash. Who carries cash anymore? Not me! I haven’t bothered with that nonsense in years! You can get a card reader for 15 pounds on Amazon. Or you know what? Be stingy and pay 7 for the little attachment on your phone. This place is nuts if it thinks it’s going to survive much longer on a cash-only policy, especially with some books that look like they’re worth hundreds or thousands of pounds! Yeah, yeah, just let me pull out this giant wad of bills for you. I’ll carry them around a crime-laden city because there’s no ATM near you either.

I mean jesus, you’d think this guy didn’t want to sell anything.

***

I walked in. There was a man screaming at a fern while another threatened him with an umbrella. I walked out.

5 stars do recommend.

***

I once walked in on the same (?) guy yelling at a book for daring to fall on the owner’s head. I think that’s just a Thing over there.

***

Like a lot of people here I didn’t actually go to Fell’s for any books (flat tire, Angel Recovery taking forever) and ended up staying three hours (not because of Angel). No, I wandered towards the back and found this ancient CRT set propped on a table of books, the kind that my Dad used to watch Twilight Zone on. This lanky guy had a marathon of Gilmore Girls going... though how he was managing that with a broken antenna and no DVR, I really don’t know. But yeah. He told me to pull up a chair and I did. Guy gave me popcorn.

I wish I’d paid a little more attention to his name. Charlie? Curley? I really can’t remember, but thanks for the enjoyable afternoon, man.

***

I BOUGHT A BOOK HERE

Not sure how though. Just kinda happened. First edition of Just William. Frankly I didn’t even want the thing, but the owner basically shoved me out the door with it when I took two seconds to look at the spine. Odd that he was so willing to part with this one.

Update: ... hold up. I didn’t buy a book because I never actually paid the guy. ‘Basically shoved me out the door’ was literal. Do I go back??

***

This page has really gone feral the last couple of months so I’m just gonna bite the bullet and say it:

Anyone notice that Fell’s snake and Fell’s partner are never in the same room together?

***

I really don’t like the implications of this…

***

This is precisely why the Internet has turned into a cesspool. You all should be ashamed of some of the stuff you’re writing here. Can’t two men just be friends anymore? Two real life men? These guys aren’t some characters for you to ‘ship’ or whatever. Quit making outrageous assumptions about their sexualities and use this website for what it’s actually for: reviewing the bookshop. Honestly I’m so sick of this sort of this shit.

***

Dude. They run a queer-focused shop together with a flat on the second floor. Fell calls the guy ‘Dear’ and he’s always calling him ‘Angel.’ People have literally seen them kissing. If you want I can give you the number of my physician. He might be able to help you pull your head out of your ass.

***

What the hell is your problem? I’m literally just reminding people to stop making assumptions. It’s gross and insulting. These guys check their Yelp page. You really think they’re gonna be okay with this stuff?

Also: I’m not the five-year-old relying on insults, so.

***

Making an account purely to set the record straight: I’m the hot twink in question and I married that angel. Peace

#good omens #ineffable husbands #air conditioning #good omens fic #guess who spent 48 hours doing nothing but writing and formatting #can I get a wahoo

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griff-us · 3 years ago

Text

Black Out Days | Chapter 2

Pairing: James Bucky Barnes/ Original Female Character.

Important Tags/Genre: AU-canon divergent, Slow Burn, Eventual Smut, Eventual Relationship, Depictions of Violence, Fluff, Angst.

Word Count: 2338

Summary: He is decommissioned; more out of a personal choice than from outside pressure. James wants nothing more than to live simply---considering the over complications and trauma of his one hundred and six years of existence. So, he leaves New York and settles in a small town off the coast of Maine.

And that’s when he meets her. An odd little bartender by the name of Honey. And that's when his life once again faces complications.

Authors Notes: I'm really just free-forming this from start to finish. Rather than writing about the events of The Falcon and the Winter Soldier I'm gonna focus on the in-between. The next chapter should be out in a week! Likes, reblogs are always appreciated, and if anyone wants to be on the tag list feel free to let me know! I'm also gonna make a master list before the next chapter comes out for my own sanity. Thank you all for the support so far!

Also on A03

84 Dive becomes a safe space for him--at least that’s what his therapist had informed him. James had admitted one day very casually over the phone that he didn’t understand why he kept going back. By all accounts the dingy dive bar was, well just that; graffiti scribbled all over the bathrooms---even the toilet seats. Stickers and posters from past bands and shows had begun to peel and wither away from the sickening, decades old paint that coated the walls. Not to mention the unruly regulars.

“You’re comfortable there, James. Just enjoy it.” That's what she had told him, and while he sits at the shoddy old bar he wonders briefly if it is the bar itself, or perhaps the scrappy little bartender that keeps him coming back.

“I smell smoke.” as if on cue, Honey appears, her many braids piled high on top of her head in something akin to a messy bun. James cocks his head, and she’s a keen one, having already picked up on his silent little quips. “You think too much, James.” she grins, hands busy hand drying the pint glasses that sit on top of the bar. He stays silent a moment, fingers flexing around his own glass. He can’t exactly get drunk anymore, but the act of having a beer or two after a long day feels---normal.

“Bucky.” he finally relents, and it's her turn to tilt her head. “Call me Bucky.” Honey beams at him, and nods.

“Alright, Bucky it is.” She tests the name against her tongue, and he finds himself wanting nothing more than to hear her repeat it. “M’ gonna be closing up soon, it’s a bit too slow to stay open. You’re welcome to hang around while I clean.”

He takes stock of the room and finds it empty--when had that happened? Flesh finger taps the cracked screen of his phone: 23:00. James doesn’t answer, but he stays put watching while she shuffles around behind the bar.

“You from this town?” shoulders roll while he leans back in his seat and Honey humms idly, as though she were debating on how to answer.

“No, I moved here about seven years ago.”

“Why?” the question slips out easily, suddenly. Honey pauses, and watches him from under long lashes while she hand washes the last of the shot glasses.

“You’re awfully talkative today.” James takes the moment to gulp down the rest of his beer. Lips smack, and he makes a point to unclench his jaw.

“My therapist told me I should talk more, make more friends while I’m here so--” he throws up a hand as if to say, and here I am.

“Bucky Barnes has a therapist?”

“Condition of my parole.”

She laughs, and it nearly knocks the breath out of him. It’s like wind chimes on a breezy summer day. And God damn if the way her entire face lights up, those dimples of hers making an appearance, doesn’t knock him down and out. James clears his throat, looks down at the chipped and cracked screen of his phone again.

“Sorry--” Honey simmers down, hands tuggin the white cloth from her back pocket to dry her hands. “--parole. Just, what a world we live in, yeah?”

“You’re telling me, doll.”

“Well, I’m all done here. Guess I’ll see you tomorrow night?” Honey skirts out from behind the bar, and he can’t help but watch as she rummages through the nearby supply closet to grab her backpack, and a change of shoes.

“Gonna be out of town for a little bit, actually.” James stands to follow her up the stairs and out the front door.

“A shame, who else will be around to keep me engrossed with such thrilling conversation?” he cocks a brow, eyes rolling briefly while she stifles another laugh.

“You say’n you’ll miss me?” Where the hell did that come from? He regrets the question as soon as it leaves his lips. Honey rolls her shoulders while she locks the door behind them.

“Maybe. Maybe not.” James calms his nerves and averts his eyes. There’s no one around, the street empty save for his bike, and then it hits him.

“How you getting home?”

“I walk usually.” Honey jerks a thumb over her shoulder in the direction of what he assumes to be her home. But he is having none of it. James tutts at her, and motions her toward his bike.

“It’s late, I’ll give you a ride.” gloved hands snag the helmet from his seat, holding it out to her. Honey looks him over, and then the bike.

“I don’t wanna take your helmet, what if you get hurt?” It’s his turn to bark out a laugh, and he notes the way her cheeks flush just so.

“Super soldier, doll--” he taps the side of his skull. “--remember?” Honey grins, and snags the helmet from his hands.

-----

“The hell are you looking at?” Sam’s voice yanks him back to reality, and irks him to no end all in one moment. James locks his phone screen, tucking the device in his pocket while shoulders press back further into the hard metal of the plane. Sam cocks a brow, as if to pester him further, and James is starting to regret forcing his way into this little operation.

“Don’t worry about it.” a beat of silence, and finally, he mumbles. “Look'n at instagram.”

He’d found her profile easy enough; people these days were easy to find on the internet, and always posting something. Her bio was simple: name, age, location, and the page itself was a few selfies, pictures of friends and food. It was cute, simple. Very---Honey. Her last post was what looked like a candid shot; as though someone had caught her mid laugh. She was at the bar, though not working; clad in jeans and a nice top, her hair split into two buns that sat perched on either side of her head. James could hear the sound of her laugh in the back of his head while he traced the curve of her cheeks with his eyes.

“Since when are you on Instagram?” Sam looks puzzled, and perplexed. Someone speaks over the intercom, a red light blares overhead. James stands and follows the other to the door.

“Shut up.”

-----------

“And you didn’t punch him?” she’s pours him another beer, and makes sure to set it down on the coaster provided. James had been gone nearly a week with Sam, and with the mess of everything that had happened he is more than happy to be back in his favorite dive bar.

“I figured I had probably broken enough laws already that day.” he plucks the glass from the bar top with gloved hands, and Honey shakes her head.

“Who would have thought John Walker would be such an ass.”

“Everyone.”

“And what kind of name is Battlestar?”

“Thank you!” James throws his hands in the air, still as irritated as he was when he first heard the ridiculous title. Honey chuckles some, surprised to see him so animated.

“Well, I’m glad you made it back in one piece.” James eyes flicker high, and she's staring at him so intently---the honesty in her tone is hard to miss. And he wonders, just for a second, if she had been worried while he was away.

“You never told me why you moved here.” he has to change the subject; brain moving a mile a minute with what ifs, and anxiety. He needs to ground himself in something other than his own mind. Honey quiets some, just as she had the last time, and as sigh slips past full lips.

“Oh you know. Moved out of my hometown to get away from my past. Wound up here, and just haven’t left.” James notes the way the honey in her eyes falters as she talks of home.

“I can relate to that.” a pause. “What happened?” Honey leans against the bar, elbow propped on top of it, pointed chin resting in the palm of her hand.

“A man.”

“Aren’t they the worst?” lips quirk into the smallest of smiles, as though he were trying to lighten the mood.

“You’re not so bad.” That throws him. Mouth opens as if to say something, anything, but his brain is blank and James is rushing to make sense of his cluttered thoughts. Honey watches him, a laugh bubbling forth and spilling from between parted lips. “Speaking of men, I need a strong one to help me with something tomorrow; think you're up for it?”

He’s thankful for the topic change, and James nods while he taps a finger against his glass.

“Sure can, doll, long as I can get another beer.” She plucks his glass from the bar top, a muted smile spread across her cheeks while she turns to pour him another.

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

“Could you have found a heavier couch?” Of course she needed help moving something; James can’t imagine the woman needing to ask help for much else. Honey had pointed out the antique sitting out on a curb only a block from her house. Just need to get it up one flight of stairs, she had said. James thought it easy enough, but he forgot how heavy and awkward old furniture could be.

“Are you complaining, Mr. Super Soldier?” Her voice rings like bells from the top of the stairs of her apartment building, and James grunts some while he readjusts the couch against his shoulder.

“Not really. You better have beer up there for something as payment or else I’ll have to bill you.”

“Oh, so you plan on staying for a while, Buck?” Her tone is light, teasing, and he can’t help the grin that splits his face while he lands the last step. They have gotten more comfortable with one another; comfortable enough to tease, flirt, and jest. It’s nice. To be comfortable around someone again.

“I’ll stay around long as you need me to, Doll.” he catches the flush that graces her tanned cheeks, and a lopsided grin splits his face. They stand there a moment in silence, eyeing one another before James finally clears his throat. “So uh, where is this going?”

“Oh!” Honey zips down the hall, beckoning him to follow while hands busy themselves with the contents of her bag. “It’s a little messy-” James slips through the open door all the while easily maneuvering the musty old couch along with him. “Right here--” Honey motions to an empty spot just under two massive windows and he deposits the piece of furniture with a thunk. James takes stock of the apartment; bigger than he thought it would be. The space bosat a decent sized kitchen, separate living area, and small hall he assumes leads to the bedroom.

“Hope you’re not allergic to cats, there’s one kicking around here somewhere. She’s a bit of a drama queen, watch out.” Honey meanders through the kitchen, and James can hear the clatter of her keys hit the counter. He pokes around the living room, impressed with the plethora of healthy growing plants---all of them hung or tucked into clean shelving for maximum sun time. Books litter every flat surface, some crime thrillers, but mostly random subjects such as philosophy, poetry, and history. It’s very---her, he thinks.

“Got that beer for me, Doll?” she rounds the corner, handing him an amber bottle with a fancy looking label. Brow arches, and he pops the top to take a swig.

“It’s some local craft beer, not my favorite. I’d rather stick with liquor.” Honey chuckles lightly while flopping down into her new couch, and James watches while she seems to take stock of the new addition to her home. “Thanks for your help, Buck.” Honey lounges back into the sofa, her tiny frame sinking into old foam. An easy shrug rolls from his shoulders, and James moves to join her.

“S’no issue. No way you would have been able to lift that on your own.” James leans back along with her, legs spread slightly so that their knees touch. Honey hums idly to herself, chin creadled in the palm of her hand and he wants nothing more than to reach out and smooth the crease in her brow with the pad of his thumb.

“What are you thinking about over there?”

“Food.” he laughs some, gloved fingers picking away at the label of his bottle. “Lets get dinner, my treat?” Honey looks at him then, cheeks tinted a crips shade of pink and James grins.

“Are you asking me on a date, Doll?”

Full lips open to answer, and he watches as embarrassment creeps onto her face. But before she can answer his phone rings--a loud bleating noise that makes them both jump. James holds up a single finger as if to say, just a moment, and he answers without even checking who it might be.

“What?”

“Well hello to you too, princess.” James recognizes Sam’s voice right away. “We’ve got a lead, you in?”

“Yeah, send me the location.” Honey watches while James stands, his drink left on the side table and long forgotten; she chews her bottom lip while he finishes the last of his conversation.

“Sorry, Doll.” he gives her a sad sort of smile, and Honey waves a hand as if to imply there wasn’t any issue.

“Duty calls, I guess?” James nods and slips his phone into his back pocket.

“Yeah, not sure how long I’ll be gone this time.” Honey stands to follow him to the door, and he doesn’t miss the worry that fills her eyes, or the return of that crease between her brows.

“Just be safe.” Her voice is quiet, distant, and James leans forward to press cool lips to her cheek. Her skin is as soft as he’d imagine, and this close she smells of vanilla and lavender.

“Don’t worry about me, Doll.” too nervous to stay any longer, James pulls away quickly, and leaves while gently shutting the door behind him.

#bucky barnes imagine #james bucky barnes imagine #bucky x reader #bucky/reader #buky barnes #james bucky barnes/reader #reader insert #MCU #the falcon and the winter soldier #james bucky barnes / oc #bucky barnes / oc #bucky barnes/oc #bucky barnes x oc

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storytime-with-moth · 3 years ago

Text

Writing modern teen Dad Sokka (zukka uni)

I wrote this a few months ago, but I ran out of steam and inspiration, so anyone is welcome to take this on and finish it as their own or take it as a prompt and try there own story.

Summer of grade 11, Sokka and Yue spend the whole summer as lifeguards, soaking up the sun, making each other laugh and dreaming of the future.

One night it’s just the two of them in the pool after it’s closed, you can see the full moon through the windows above, Sokka and Yue lay on floaties driving around the pool.

“Hey Sokka?”

“Hmm?”

“What do you want to be when you grow up?”

Sokka laughs “Haven’t heard that since I was a kid and I wanted to be and otter penguin - and no I have no idea where that came from.”

Yue turns over so she can look Sokka in the eyes. “Seriously though, what do you want to do when you can leave this small town and its small ideas.

Sokka could tell that there was more behind the question but tired answering it honestly “I dunno exactly “What” I want to be, but I think I would like to build things, useful things too. And I’m not really a car guy or a building guy.”

Yue snorts “Ya not a car guy, says the guy who failed to get his license twice!”

“Hey!” Sokka splashes yue playfully. “Okay okay, I have been looking the some of the research into mixing prosthetics with robotics and focusing more on make prosthetics one with the body, I don’t know much about it yet. But I guess I started reading all about them and I kinda became obsessed.”

“what about hockey?”

“I love hockey, and the coaches at school think I’m good enough to get scholarships, so if hockey helps support an actual career for me I’m all for it, but I know I want to do more than catch pucks my whole life, I want to really use my brain and solve puzzles.”

“hmm” Yue turned over and looked back at the moon thoughtful.

“What about you?”

“What about me?”

“Well as you so gracefully put it, what do you want to do when you can leave this place that’s too small for you and your big ideas and dreams?”

“Well when you put it like that… I want to travel, see places, important places. I want to fall in love, out of love, I want to have enough friends that my house is always filled with good food and loud laughter. I want to be a Mom someday, I think maybe I want to go to school and study philosophy, not sure what kind of job that leads to but I want to ask questions, the big questions like why are we here, what is a life well spent?”

“Whoa”

“Ya… Whoa”

“and have you talked to your dad about that?

“Sort of, and it sort of didn’t go well.”

“he’s still set on you making the Canadian swim team? Duty to country and family stuff?”

“YeP” she said as she popped the P

“That sucks”

“indeed it does”

They floated around in silence for a bit longer.

“Hey Sokka?”

“Hmm?”

“Do you want to have sex?”

Sokka promptly fell into the water, Yue’s laugh echoing around the empty pool.

They did indeed tumble into bed together that night, an awkward interaction for both of them that ended with the laughing covered in sweat. That morning when Sokka woke up Yue was already sitting on his bed looking at his doodles on the walls.

“Sokka I love you, I do, and I honestly thought maybe I loved you like a girl loves a guy, but I think I just love you because you're my best friend.”

“Ookaaay. I think I should add in you’re my best friend too? Because you’re being weird”

Yue looked to her hands in her lap and a tear fell to her hand. “Sokka, think I might like girls.”

She said it so quietly that it took a second for Sokka to understand what she had just told him.

“Whoa, no I mean, Cool! That’s fine. I support you, wait was I really bad last night?”

Yue’s tears quickly turn into laughs “No you idiot! You ere great, it just wasn’t right”

“Okay well cool then…..”

“Cool then”

“promise you won’t tell?”

“Yue, I promise I won’t tell! I can even pretend to be your boyfriend so your dad can’t freak out, and we can totally go to the girls soccer games this year if you want?”

“Sokka I love you, you big dummy”

“Well I love you to, to the moon and back dreamer”

___________________________________

So Sokka and Yue were still best friends and they spent the fall attached at the hip, and when Yue found out she was expecting a baby and her parents kicked her out, Sokka just grabbed her hand and her backpack and walked into his house stating that Yue lived here now.

Hakoda and Bato nodded and welcomed her home, Katara squealed and fawned over becoming an auntie.

And for a while things were good, they were complicated as they prepared to become teen parents, co parenting as best friends, both of them aiming for scholarships and working part-time gigs whenever they could to save up. But life was happy, they were going to have a baby.

But then things went wrong, Yue went into labour 6 weeks early, her pressure dropped, the baby’s dropped, there was blood, there were doctors everywhere, then there was a small shrill cry, more moving and running and yelling. Then there was a lot of quiet.

Yue died in labour, their baby was in the NICU for three weeks to improve her lungs and even then doctors were worried about how premature she was. Finally after weeks camped out in a hospital next to his baby in a box or in his bed in the dark or the shower staring at the wall, he could bring his daughter home. She was going to be okay.

Her name was Juno Kya Last name, and she was perfect, wide hazel eyes like her Mom, and the sharp cupids bow like Kya, it looked like she would have Sokka’s dark hair and complexion. She watched everything with curious eyes, and didn’t cry unless she was hungry or tired which was often the first few months. But Bato and Hakkoda loved their granddaughter to bits and helped with everything. The diapers, the late feedings, the tummy time, the grieving.

The grieving was the hardest. Mostly because he was to busy trying to be there as a Dad and as a student and as a team player. He spent so long being there for everyone else that one night once hockey season was over and Katara took Juno to a girls sleepover he was all alone, for the first time since he was a little boy after his Mom died.

The dam burst and he sat on the floor and cried, he cried until his Dads came home and they wrapped him up in a hug and he cried some more. Then they made hot chocolate and sat on the couch in thick chewy blankets. They talked and talked, Hakkoda speaking about loosing the love of his life with two young children, being a dad by himself, Bato spoke about loosing his best friend Kya so unfairly and traumatically. The spoke about the unfairness of life and the peace in death, and how he will never move on but he will move forward, with one hand holding his daughter and the other pointing him forward to his own future.

When Katara came home the next day, Sokka was already awake and making blueberry pancakes poorly singing ice ice baby. When he saw his sister holding Juno he scooped her up and gave her a million kisses.

They were going to be okay, because they were loved, because Sokka was smart, because Sokka was going to be driven just like his best friend was, he was going to ask the big questions whenever he could, and love and laugh, so much his home was filled with it.

For Juno and for Yue, and for himself too.

_________________________

So Sokka worked his ass off, he won a full ride scholarship to university for hockey to study bio engineering, he was even able to work on family residence on campus, which took a load off his shoulders of trying to figure out travel to and from school with a baby, now he skates, lives and attends school on campus (which even had a daycare)

During the summer leading up leaving for school Bato revealed that ever since Sokka got into school he has been trying to transfer his job to the same city so they could be closer and he had not only done that but he had gotten a promotion out of it too. So Katara was starting at a new high school for senior year and Bato and Hakkoda were moving to be 20 minutes away from Sokka’s school.

He knew he would have to get used to being more independent, as he knew his dads thought he would be annoyed by them following him, or his sister would be upset about changing schools. But no, katara had high hopes for her new adventure and sokka was just relived to not be alone, and that Juno had more than one badly an adult person in her life.

_________________

Little hands grabbed at Sokka’s hair as he hoisted 9 month old Juno up on his hip. “Well June-Bug this is it our home for the next four or so years”

Juno looked up at her dad with wide hazel eyes and replied in noisy baby babble.

From behind Sokka Bato came up and rested a hand on on his shoulder “Deep breaths kid, you’re going to be great.”

Sokka smiled ruefully at Bato as Katara ran up with a stroller full of baby things and his dad struggled with his hockey bags as he tried to lock the car with one hand.

Sokka looked at Juno again and whispered to her and himself “Deep breaths kid”

Later after they had gotten the crib set up in the attached office to Sokka’s room Bato and Katara took Juno for a walk in her stroller to grab some food. While Sokka and his dad finished unpacking.

“Son are you sure you want to stay on campus, are you sure you want Juno to stay with you? We could take her for the weeks mostly and you could come stay with us at the new place on weekends. I know you expected to do this more by yourself, but Bato would move oceans for you kid and got the new position in town, so we’re here, we can help.”

“Dad… Ya I’m going to need help, so thank you, I will take you up on looking after Juno when I need it, but you and Bato are going to be looking after her as her grandparents and not as her guardians. I promised Yue - Juno and I are family, and I’m not going to pass her off whenever I feel like not being a Dad anymore, she’s my kid and I want to be here for all the stuff, the walking the talking everything, and that’s not going to happen if she’s only my kid on weekends.

“Sokka you’re doing just fine son, more than fine really. Okay okay well when Juno wants to see her Great Papa and GB (Grand Bato) you give us a call, or if you need to pull an all nighter for an assignment you call, anything you call and we can be here. And when you get your game schedule, email us so we can make sure one of us can take her to the games, Bato is very excited about the baby headphones he bought her.”

“Okay Dad Okay, Now get out of here ya old man, and Dad Thanks for being here.”

“Of course Sokka”

________________________

Sokka was pretty pleased with his new place, sure it was small, but it was clean and had more room than he expected to get so he was grateful. The suite was in the family/accessible living accommodations which was a small building with elevators to every floor. This suite had two rooms on opposite sides of the small common area which had a worn in couch and a coffee table. There was also a small kitchen and an even smaller dinner table. Sokka’s room had a small attached office space that he turned into Juno’s room, even though she still co-slept with him most nights, it was good to have a crib for naps and a place to put her never ending supply of diapers, blankets and clothes.

Sokka's roommate was a paraplegic kid named Teo who happened to have basically the same schedule as Sokka so they quickly bonded over advancements in the medical and mechanical fields. Teo also seemed pretty chill and took a liking to Juno right away. Which made Sokka endlessly happy because, well they were now living together and babies cry and poop so he was worried about tiptoeing around his new home.

Day care still didn’t open for the next two weeks while sokka would be attending training camp so his Dad would be taking most of the days with Juno, but it happened to shake out where the first day of meet and greet and skate Hakkoda was attending a support group meeting for retired field medics in a new city and Sokka didn’t want his Dad to miss it, plus it gave Sokka an opportunity to introduce everyone to his best girl.

Katara came to hold Juno while he was on the ice excited to get a sneak peek at university life before her high school year started.

“Da da da” Juno babbled as she mushed her fist into Sokka’s mouth, sokka smiled and pretended to gobble up her hand, the baby shrieked and laughed and Sokka adjusted her baby sweater around her neck.

“Sokka she’s fine, I have diapers, formula, and the big blanket you packet in the stroller, if she gets fussy I can take her for a walk to see the birds, and she won’t get cold because you packed a million layers and she will be held by every limbo there so again, she will be fine.”

Sokka checked the stroller again nodding to what his sister was saying. She was right, he was prepared, he had already emailed with the coaches so they knew what was up and he had coffee with the captain yesterday, who looked like a giant holding his baby, but overall seemed like a good guy. Eric “Wooly Mammoth/ Wooly” Woolner seemed like a solid guy, like physically solid and also like the type of guy Sokka could lean on as a leader while figuring out classes, fatherhood and being on a university level hockey team.

Everyone met in a blank sort of room with lots of chairs facing a projector, Sokka thought it was probably to review game footage and make new plays. He settled in with Juno on his lap as the other guys in the room took notice that there was a baby in their midst.

“Sokka you brilliant man!” Shouted a familiar face from across the room as he stood up and ran over.

Haru was taller and broader than Sokka, much bigger at least than when they last saw each other when they played on the same club team when they were 15.

“Haru, dude! You’re here! Awesome!”

Haru took a look at Juno and sized her up, then he stuck out his tongue and did a silly dance, Juno hid her face in Sokka’s shoulder and Haru ran around so she could see him and did it again. This time he managed to get a small smile before she hid her face again, grabbing Sokka’s collar with her hands.

“She’s cute Socks, she yours?”

“Yep, this is Juno.”

“Nice, is she gonna be at the games and shit?”

“Easy up on the potty mouth there dude, and ya I hope so, my dads moved into town so they hope to be there and bring her to them and stuff.”

“Wicked, is the uh - mom in the picture?”

“Nah, she passed when Juno was born so it’s just us.”

“Sorry bro”

“Thanks, anyways we should totally catch up properly later. Let’s introduce the team to our new good luck charm shall we?”

Katara was right, Juno has passed from bro to dude to himbo, once she realized that everyone one here was as big and cuddly as her dad she seemed to warm up and enjoy the attention. Then it was time for everyone to get on the ice to pass around the puck and do some laps getting a feel for the other players on the ice.

Juno sat with Katara smearing her messy hands all over the glass looking at the people on the rink until she fell asleep in her stroller tucked under a whole blanket.

Sokka enjoyed the team, Haru was a great comfort of home, Wooly was a level headed captain that set a tone for the rest of the guys, then there was Lucas “Longshot” Cho, Dennis “The Duke” Cunningham, Sam “Rooke” Chesterfield, Finn “Pipsqueak” Biggs, and the team manager Suki and the assistant captain Zuko.

All of the guys were loud and boisterous, including Suki, but Zuko seemed reserved and maybe a little prickly.

Then there were coaches Piandao and Bumi. Piandao seemed more serious, the man with a plan. He had coached a lot of different teams and was sought after for his reputation of the coach who turns coal into diamonds, Bumi on the other hand had coached here forever it seemed. He gave Sokka Manic genius vibes that had him thinking that maybe he should let Piandao hold Juno for the occasional practise instead of the ripped crazy old guy who ran around the ice in uggs.

——————

Later when Sokka was packing up and talking to the coaches about potentially bringing Juno with him in case he couldn’t find a sitter last minute working out how that would work, Katara pulled up with a fussy Juno in her stroller.

“Sorry Sokka I have to run, Dad is outside waiting for me and I have to finish unpacking my room tonight”

“All good Kat, thanks again for coming tonight!”

Katara leaned down and kissed her fingers and pressed them to Juno’s head “Love you little bug”

The coaches bid their farewells shortly after and Sokka packed his stuff into the stroller before taking Juno out to settle her and give her a bottle.

Just as he tucked her into his arms and pulled the bottle from the bag someone walked briskly into the locker room where he was sitting.

Zuko and Assistant Captain huffed in and sat down hanging up his phone and tossing it on the bench.

“Uh hi?”

Zuko whirled around looking ready for a fight before spotting Sokka and said baby sucking on a bottle. “Hi Baby.” Zuko said shyly.

Sokka laughed “ Take me on a date before you call me that.” And winked at Zuko.

Zuko looked like a startled deer so Sokka took pity on him.

“Just kidding dude, I mean sort of I am Bi - what a discovery that was and anyways - sorry I wasn’t coming on to you - I don’t know you - I just thought I should make it clear that I COULD come on to you because I like guys, and girls…. Whelp I would start running away in shame now for oversharing but I’m currently a food spruce for this nugget sooo, yep just going to sit here and wish I could time travel to punch myself in the face.”

Throughout the vomit of words coming out of sokka’s mouth Zuko seemed to relax and then smirk at the other man.

“You do know I was talking to your kid right?”

“Yep, yes I did”

“Well see you around Sokka.”

And Zuko grabbed his bag and left the locker room. First impressions for today might be bit all over the place Sokka thought to himself.

____________________________________

Sokka talked to Juno all of the time. What can he say, he is a guy with a lot of words and they can’t all stay in his head.

So Juno has an interesting and advanced vocal for a 9 month old baby.

Of course she can address the people in her life, Dada, Kat, Great Papa, and GB (Great Bato)

She can also ask for milk, to go up, and uh oh.

She loves to say no but can infect say yes (sokka swears he’s heard that one)

But it also means she tries to say things that Sokka often says to varying degrees of baby success

“Stupid gravity!”

"Monkey balls”

“Shoot”

“I love you to the moon and back”

“hockey time.

And her favourite word of all time

Puck

It stopped making Sokka freeze after the first 2o times he thought he heard his baby say fuck. Now its just a cute funny thing his kid has figured out, Dada has to find the puck, and it is her job to hide them.

She hides pucks everywhere, he swears sometimes she is multiplying them on her own because he always finds at least two in the diaper bag and one hidden in her crib.

So very quickly into the season the team dubs the hockey baby with her very own nickname

“Little puck”

Sokka quietly thinks that Yue would have liked that one because her favourite Shakespeare play was midsummer night's dream.

________________________

The team gets Juno and Sokka a fancy running stroller for her birthday/christmas

It was Zuko’s idea

Zuko sometimes comes by to offer to take her for a run when Sokka has exams.

_______________________

Zuko seemed to always be the last to leave the locker rooms, Sokka would usually rush out to pick up Juno from whoever had her unless she had stayed with Couch Dao during practise which she had today.

On days like today Sokka takes his time, cleans and folds his gear, re-tapes his stick for next practise and actually has a real shower. So today he was tucking Juno back in her stroller after changing her as Zuko put the tape away. They were casually talking about the hilarious origins of Pipsqueaks nickname when sokka realized Zuko had a funny look on his face.

“What? Do I have poop on me or something?”

Now Zuko looked even more confused as Sokka looked at his shirt, twisting around to make sure he was free of baby droppings.

“No, you just never look at it, is all. I was trying to figure out what was so -weird about you other than being a crazy goalie, and you don’t look at it.”

“I don’t look at what?”

Zuko gestures to the scared half of his face glumly. “You don’t look at it, you look me in the eyes, always have. It’s weird I guess. You pretending it’s not there.”

“Oh”

“Forget it, sorry.”

“No! It’s just of course I know it’s ther, I’m not pretending its not there, it just seems like whatever happen was probably truamitic, ya know? And - well - okay so tragic backstory time. My Mom was killed in a targeted home invasion by some racists, super fucked up... “

“Holy shit.”

“Yep, anyways everyone knew about it, in the town we lived in, in the next town we lived in, So it was like everyone could see my big truma all the time, it wasn’t up to me to trust people enough to share something that was hard for me and that hurt. It was out of my hands and everyone knew including people I didn’t feel safe with or I didn’t know at all. So I get it, in a way. I see your scar I do, but I get that it maybe comes with a pretty sucky story that’s not mine to make assumptions and judgments on. If I’m worthy of knowing then I will, but I will always look you in the eyes, I’m not going to look at your trauma first because you’re Zuko first.”

Zuko stared at Sokka with his mouth open. Sokka looked away and finished strapping Juno into her stoller before looking back up at the other player. When he did Zuko was looking at the wall, his shoulders turned away from the young father.

“Thank you, and I’m sorry about your Mom… I promise I won’t tell anyone, that scar can stay between us for however long you need.”

And before Sokka could stay anything Zuko turned on his heel and walked quickly from the room.

________________________-

Sokka wasn’t sure what was up with this Zuko guy, everyone else on the team except Haru and Sokka had played with Zuko last year, so they all seemed to have an unspoken understanding of the reserve alt captain. But Sokka couldn’t even get him to smile. Sokka knew he was funny, he was full of 100% organic grass fed dad jokes for goodness sakes! But no, Zuko would not smile, he would not laugh, actually most of the time he seemed to be trying to not talk to Sokka in general. Which was hard considering Zuko was one of the defensemen and it was his job to protect Sokka, you’d think there would be an effort to become friends.

“Maybe he’s uncomfortable with the whole baby thing?” Suggested Teo from the table where he was copying data to a new chart.

“Nahh, I don’t think so, he even said hi to Juno at the first prac - ohhhhhhh” Sokka fell to the floor from where he was sitting with Juno, she took the opportunity of her opponent on the ground and began to climb on her dad.

“What ohhhhhh?”

“I totally flirted with him after that and told him I was queer and he like panic walked out of the locker room.”

“Ugh so do you think he’s homophobic or something?”

“Maybe or something? I don’t get bully vibes from him more like “I act scary so people won’t pretend to like me and then stab me in the back” vibes from this guy. So maybe it’s just a little internalized stuff and he’s not going to beat me up just might not want to talk about it.”

“Well it sucks either way!”

Juno continued to climb around her Dad trying to stuff toys down his shirt and then take them out again. Sokka kept a hand two inches from her back whenever she got close to standing just incase she decided that gravity no longer applied to her and she tumbled over.

“Hey Sokka, do you think he told anyone? Would your spot be in danger if you were outed?”

A cold feeling settled in his stomach “oh shit, I uh, I didn’t think about that… I don’t think I would be kicked off the team. There are policies like that for the school, but I don’t know about how safe I would be from the boys.”

“Oh,” Teo finally looked up from his laptop and set down his highlighter. “You know if you need someone to back you up, I know I can’t take them in a fight but I am friends with some freelance hackers and I could make their lives living hell.”

“Teo, you my man are one scary dude, and the wheels only add intimidation with that tricked out chair. You’re also a really great friend.”

Teo blushed and shrugged “Eh it’s whatever, us queers in engineering trying to change the way people use bionic tech gotta stick together right?”

“Totally, isn’t Uncle Teo awesome June-Bug?” Sokka picked up his daughter and flew her over his head as she wiggled her legs.

“Too too!”

“Uncle Teo?” teo said quietly from the table.

“Oh, well ya, if you want? Juno needs a village right? And one day you and I are going to start a bionics company together, so ya you’re going to be around for a while right?”

“Right.” Teo smiled.

“Toto!” Juno screamed again.

Both of the boys laughed and the night went on.

_______________________________________

Juno was still asleep and Teo was in the house studying so Sokka took the opportunity to go for a run around his building with the baby monitor clipped on his waist band.

It was rare nowadays that Sokka could get a good run in outside, his feet pounding the pavement, a chance to clear his mind.

He was surprised to see that Zuko apparently had the same idea because soon they were matching each other stride for stride around the complex. It was surprising even after weeks of Zuko evading Sokka at any chance they seemed to be in sync.

They were still going strong when Sokka heard Juno fuss from the monitor and slowed to a stop. Zuko halted a few paces ahead and looked confused.

“Are you tired? We can stop-” Zuko started but Sokka quickly waved him off.

“No it’s Juno, I just want to see if she’s going to go back to sleep herself or whether I have to call Teo to pick her up, or if I should go get her. Come on J-Bug settle down,”

Zuko looking curious came to hover over Sokka’s shoulder looking down at the tiny screen which showed Juno in her crib tossing and turning.

“Come on J look your penguin is right there- YES!” Sokka pumped his fist and did a little dance. “My baby went back to sleep, ah I love you!” He continued speaking to the machine and the sky and skipped around before remembering he had an audience.

It looked like Zuko was thinking about smiling and Sokka thought that that might be worth celebrating too.

“Hehe whoops, sorry man. I just haven't been able to run in forever, it's like she knows when I grab my runners and demands to see me.”

“No worries, Sokka.”

So the two hockey players started up a soft pace again around the building. It came to Sokka's mind that he shouldn’t poke the bear but he also had poor impulse control so as he thought it the words came tumbling out of his mouth.

“So have you outed me to all the guys and should I watch my back?”

Now it was Zuko’s turn to stop, he looked like Sokka slapped him.

“What.”

“Ugh! You know, like I can not talk about it and we can just play the game but - should I be making sure that Juno is safe? If she comes to a practise and I’m leaving will I get roughed up by the guys? Because I can take a hit, but my daughter is off limits. Nothing has happened yet so, my guess is you haven't told anyone, but are you going to?”

“No!” Zuko still looked scared “ Never - do I come off as someone who would do that?” He followed up quietly.

“I don’t know what to say dude, you looked scared out of your mind when I flirted with you and practically ran out when I told you I was Bi and ever since you have avoided me, I just assumed you were uncomfortable.”

Zuko looked around as if to check for monsters around them, then he looked at Sokka. “I won’t tell anyone, I haven't, I swear to you that I have your back if you ever want to say anything about it. Juno is safe, I swear it.”

“Whoa that’s a serious tone shift, Um thank you then.”

There was an awkward pause as the two men regarded each other for a moment.

“Just out of curiosity why did you avoid me after? Was it the baby thing?”

“No, it wasn't the baby thing.” zuko mumbled and toed the dirt with his shoe.

“Okay… but were good now right?”

“Ya”

Sokka turned and started to jog again, and soon enough Zuko caught up and they continued for a few more laps. As they were cooling down Zuko still looked amped up, Sokka was surprised, running usually calmed him down but Zuko seemed jumpy.

“Well this was fun! If I can ever join again it would be nice to have company, even company as quiet as you along.”

“Why don’t you bring Juno in her stroller or something?”

Sokka rubbed a hand behind his neck “ Well her stroller is a second hand one we got when she was born, it’s not the kind I can take running without it falling apart or bouncing my babies brains out. And her Mom and I both had much to offer in genetic smarts so I would like my babies brain to be perfect so she can run the world or something.”

“Oh and I guess running strollers are expensive?”

“Ya a bit, and I already spend so much on her clothes, she just won’t stop growing!”

“Too bad, it was also nice running with you.”

“Wow a real Zuko compliment, be still my beating heart!”

Sokka grabbed his chest and fell back and rolled in the grass. Zuko’s lips tilted up just a fraction and butterflies fluttered in sokka’s stomach.

Just then Juno started to cry in earnest and Teo’s voice came over the monitor. “Uh Sokka is her bottle the one in the door of the fridge or do I make a new one?”

Sokka sighed a little then pressed the intercom button on the monitor “Don’t worry about it Teo I will be up in two. Just start telling her the periodic table or something.”

“See you later Zuko”

“Bye Sokka.”

_____________

Sokka’s head was pounding and his vision was blurry, as he stumbled in the dark to the toilet and heaved.

“Fuck.”

At some piont after the sweating and throwing up he dragged himself back to his room to fetch his phone. Juno was fast asleep in her crib because he had a headache last night and homework took forever, so he had put her down early.

Back in the bathroom he rested his head on the cool tile and dialed up his dad with shaky fingers.

After three rings Hakkoda picked up in a panic “Sokka, are you okay? Is Juno okay? Where are you?”

Sokka squinted his eyes at the loud voice of his Dad ringing around his skull. “Dad? I think I have the flu.”

“Oh bud, okay. What’s going on, how can I help?”

“I had a headache last night so I put J down for bed early then I woke up with a fever, I keep throwing up, Dad I -” Sokka felt a lump in his throat and tears sting his eyes. “Dad I don’t want to her her, she was just so small, and I don’t want her to get sick. I know I have to do this, but i love her so much and I dont want to fuck up - “

The tears fall down his cheeks to the floor.

“Oh son, okay. One you love that kid more than anything you would die before hurting her this I know. Two people get sick, people also get better with rest and the I think I can help with that.”

“Dad I know I’m grown up ish, but can you tell me what to do?”

Hakkoda chuckled on the other end of the line. “Sokka, Bato and I will come pick up Juno in 30 minutes, we will drop off some crackers and gatorade too.”

“Dad- “

“Nope Sokka, you asked so I am telling you what we are going to do. We will come and get our baby girl and take her for a few days, You will email your profs and get your homework sent to you, you can only go to class when you don’t have a fever and if you do you’re going to wear a mask, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Good you will email your coaches tell them whats what, when you feel better you can go watch practise, the cool might even be good for the fever, but you will not push yourself. This week will not make or break the rest of your life. So you will sleep, rest, do your work form home, and Juno will play at GB and great Papa’s house. And everything will be okay.”

“Okay. Thank you dad”

“We will be there soon buddy”

So Juno went with his Dad’s and he sent his emails and face planted in his bed and passed out for 6 hours.

Later an hour before practise Sokka’s phone pinged, he groaned and grasped around for his phone.

A text from Fire Prince Zuko

Coaches just said you won’t be at practise tonight. Is everything okay? Is Puck good?

Flu bug, don’t want to mess up that pretty ice with my vomit. Juno seems fine she’s at my Dads house until I’m not dying of the plague

A few minutes went by after that and sokka’s eyes started to fall again. “Ping”

I can drop off soup and tea on my way to practise, which suite is yours in family huas?

Dude its fine I can feed myself

Dude. I’m helping at my uncle’s tea shop today. They have soup and tea, it’s no problem. In fact my uncle insists.

14a second floor

And thank you Z

What are Alt Capts for?

Hakkoda was right, everything was indeed okay in the end. Juno had a blast at her grandparents house and sokka managed to get all of his homework done and even managed to watch a few lectures online courtesy of Teo. Zuko was the anomaly he could’t account for but was grateful for none the less. Whenever he could he stopped by with snacks, soup, tea and even weirder sent cute cat and baby videos at random points during the days.

Within 4 days Sokka felt good enough to go to classes and do some dryland training uring practise and after one more day he was back catching pucks on the rink with his daughter sleeping in the bed next to him one hand fisted on his shirt to make sure her dad didn’t leave.

After that week sometimes Zuko would still stop by with a tea, which Sokka had begun to like even when he wasn’t dying. Except now he would occasionally stay and drink his own tea while they watched juno play on the floor.

Sokka was starting to think he might have a new friend after all…

_____________________

#zukka modern au #fanfiction prompt #sokka #zuko #team avatar #modern au

16 notes · View notes

kiwi-bitchez · 5 years ago

Note

Can you do a frat Tom story, where he’s a cocky player and y/n hates him? One day, they get stuck at the campus laundromat together, so they start talking and Tom is actually funny and nice. Y/N lets her guard down and they start kissing. And then Tom takes advantage of the moment and his cocky side turns back on and he starts dominating. He takes her to the back and makes her get on her knees to blow him and he makes her gag for him and he's boasting and dirty talking.

Rinse and Spin

OOF This suggestion is HOT. Thank you!!! Honestly this had me sweating. I tried my best! Requests/suggestions are always open!

Summary: basically above, you and tom get stuck in the laundry room together and some smutty fun ensues. College!AU, Frat!Tom, Lowkey enemies to lovers

Warnings: Smut, mentions of alcohol, mostly smut, it’s all smut.

College was an exciting new chapter for you. Last year when you started school you were bright eyed and bushy tailed for all the new possibilities and independence that college brings. Living on your own, studying at your own pace, meeting new people, it all excited you.

However after a few semesters had gone by the excitement slowly wore off and you fell into a regular routine. You didn’t dislike school by any stretch, but you have always been keen on seeing things as they truly are.

One of the aspects of college that had really excited you was the idea that everyone would shed their immaturity from high school and grow up quickly. You hoped to meet people who took school seriously and didn’t have that unattractive immaturity that so many high school boys had.

This was all a fantasy in your head of course. There were still many people who disrespected professors, slept through all their classes, and acted like sixteen year olds who had been finally let loose from their parents. You assumed the freedom and expectations of college would cause everyone to grow up, but a girl can only dream.

The worst was Tom Holland. You had been partnered with him last semester for a group project and he lives up to all your expectations of a typical asshole frat boy.

He never bothered to learn your name, just calling you “babe” or “love” in that cocky way that probably worked on some girls, but not you. You ended up doing most of the project yourself because the idea of meeting up with him outside class seemed unbearable.

After that it was like you couldn’t stop running into him. At parties, in class, at the coffee shop, he was like an irritating bug that you couldn’t seem to squash.

He was the type of guy who loved being the center of attention. It came as no shock to you that he was the president of some stupid frat on campus, the one that threw the biggest parties. In your eyes frat boys had nothing filling their heads other than cheap beer and objectifying women. You tried your best to stay away from them, but did get dragged to the occasional party.

You had luckily found a group of friends that lived up to your expectations of mature college students, they were funny and smart and you were lucky to have them. The area you weren’t so lucky with was dating. You had a few hookups at parties but nothing worth writing home about, and most of the boys you met either bored you or fell into the asshole frat boy category.

You look around your small dorm room and decide to straighten some things up. You had finished all your assignments and your friends didn’t get out of class for a few hours, so this seemed like the perfect time to do some laundry.

You toss your dirty clothes into your hamper and head down to the communal laundry room in the basement. You didn’t bother changing out of your pajamas, some loose shorts and a t-shirt sans bra, you figured you’d be back in your room soon enough.

The door was open a crack, so you slip in and put down your heavy hamper next to an open washing machine. You notice someone sitting across the room out of the corner of your eye, it wasn’t unusual for students to wait for their laundry to finish.

However, the creeping feeling in your stomach, the way the hair on the back of your neck stood up on end gave away quickly who the figure was. Ugh, Tom. He had headphones on and seemed to be minding his business, so you hoped you could get your laundry in and leave before he noticed you and said some snarky remark.

That was the thing about Tom, you were one of the only girls who didn’t buy into his smooth accent and pretty face. You would call him out for his bullshit and tell him he’s a creep whenever he made a pass at you. You could tell he liked it though, the back and forth of you telling the other how much you despised them, he liked that you could dish it back.

You manage to get your clothes into the washer, but quickly realize that you left your laundry card upstairs. You dig around your wallet for some quarters, coming up with just the right amount. Jamming them into the busted machine you quickly lose hope of them working, realizing you’d have to go back up for your card.

“Need some help there sweetheart?” Tom asks from across the room.

Your hope of going unnoticed was shattered. Taking in a deep breath you roll your eyes and turn around to face him.

“No thanks sweetheart, machine won’t take my quarters,” you quickly turn back around, hoping that would be the end of the interaction.

You start to gather your things to head back upstairs when you notice that he’s left his spot and is walking up behind you.

“Here just use mine,” he holds his card out.

“No thanks Holland, not taking any favors from you.”

“Really, it’s no biggie,” he taps the card against the sensor in the machine and pays the $1.25 for your load, “it’s the least I can do after you got me that A on the bio project last semester.”

You were surprised that he even remembered that. You hold out your handful of quarters to pay him back.

“I don’t want your coins,” he chuckles.

“Well you certainly aren’t getting anything else from me,” you head towards the door, not knowing what to make of that interaction.

You needed the laundry card to swipe the door open, and it had been open a crack when you had come in.

“Hey,” you turn back around, “mind lending me that again so I can open the door?”

He runs up beside you and presses the card against the sensor, getting a little closer to you than you would have liked. The monitor turned red and starts blinking, indicating the card wasn’t working.

He tries again, “Strange, worked just a second ago.”

“Stop fucking with me Tom,” you grab the card from his hand, but it doesn’t work when you try either.

“Why do you always doubt me,” he takes the card back and examines it, “it’s not like I want to be stuck in here with you either.”

“Did you have the card near your phone?” you ask.

He realizes he had put the card back into the wrong pocket after paying for your laundry. The cheap cards are sensitive to technology and can get messed up if they get too close to a phone.

He takes his phone out of his pocket, “oh my god, of course you’re the type of person who doesn’t put a case on their phone,” you roll your eyes again at him.

“Guess you’re just gonna have to wait here with me until someone else can buzz us out.”

“Damn I better start screaming for help then.”

He lets out a chuckle and returns to his seat on top of one of the dryers. You might as well take a seat too, it may be awhile before someone comes to release you from this hell. You hop up onto one of the dryers across the room from him, desperately wishing you had your phone or anything to distract you.

“Cute shirt,” he comments.

“Shut up,” you realize he was probably commenting on how you weren’t wearing a bra.

“No, I mean it,” he sounded a little hurt, “that band is really cool.” Referencing the band logo on your tee.

You give him an inquisitive look, trying to read his motives.

“Last summer I worked security at a small concert venue downtown, got into a lot of cool shows for free.”

You would usually take this as him bragging, but he actually seemed interested in talking to you. He told you about some of the shows he worked at and you told him about the music festival you had gone to.

After talking like civilized humans for a while he decides to ask, “Why do you hate me so much?”

“Hmm?” You look up from the hem of your shirt that you had been fiddling with.

“It just seems like you hate me and you don’t even know me.”

“I think I know you well enough to know that we don’t get along.”

“That’s not true at all, you don’t know the first thing about me!” He got up from his spot and moved closer to you.

“I guess I just don’t want to bother getting to know some egotistical frat boy who thinks every girl wants his dick, you’re just like the rest of them. Even worse, you’re their freaking leader! What do you want me to know about you huh? How much beer you can chug? How many girls you’ve fucked? I’m not interested.”

“Wow, harsh,” he was actually a little hurt by your comment, but kept the smug grin plastered on his face.

“See, you’re not even listening to me. You just smile and nod until a girl opens her legs for you, so move on cuz I’m not buying it.”

“Oh, you think you’re so high and mighty because you stay cooped up in your dorm room studying like the perfect fucking princess you are,” his tone was mocking, “some of us manage to have fun and get good grades, you’re not special, doll, you’re just a buzzkill. I bet you’ve never even been to one of our frat parties.”

“I’ve been to a few,” you mumble defensively.

“So what, maybe it’s all kegs and tits some of the time, but we also do a lot of really cool stuff too.”

“Oh yeah, like what?” your voice dripping with sarcasm.

“We do a lot of charity type shit around campus, hosting events and stuff.”

“Charity type shit,” you mocked him.

“Last semester we did this event where we set up these big tables and just handed out free dildos and condoms and lube,” he started explaining.

“Wow, so charitable, your frat gives out free sex toys to get girls attention, sorry I ever questioned you Mother Theresa.”

“Hey, let me finish,” he puts up his hands, “we were petitioning against campus gun laws. We were trying to make a statement about how some sex toys are against campus rules but there are no gun laws.”

“Oh,” you felt really stupid, “that actually is pretty cool.”

“See, you always are so judgy, if you just listened to me for three seconds then maybe you wouldn’t hate me so much. You just jump to conclusions about people before even talking to them.”

“I guess,” you turn to him, now sitting next to you on the dryer, “Sorry.”

“See, I like cool music and dildos too, we aren’t so different you and I,” you still wanted to wipe the grin off his face.

“You don’t know that about me,” you say flatly.

“Okay well I do know that you are into that one band,” he gestures to your t shirt, “and you are really good at bio… and you do your laundry at weird times of the day…”

You turn to him and lower your eyes, giving him an exasperated look.

“And I know that you like coconut milk in your coffee, and you always get those chocolate pastry things…”

Your eyes widen a little, realizing how closely he must have paid attention to you to pick up on those things. You let your guard down for a second, giving him the benefit of the doubt for once.

“And I know that you look really good in just your pajamas,” he nudges your side, “and I know that… you have really pretty eyes…”

His eyes meet yours, and you suddenly felt so vulnerable.

“Shut up,” you whisper.

“I’m just telling you things that I know to be facts,” he whispers too, his face was very close to yours, and strangely you didn’t mind.

Your mind went a little fuzzy as you stared into his coffee colored eyes, no longer trying to read him and just appreciating their color. A magnetic pull drew your face to his, almost like something you couldn’t have stopped even if you had wanted to. Before you could even realize it, your lips were firmly planted on his, hands frantically coming up to the sides of his face.

Tom would be completely lying if he said he knew this would happen. He hadn’t been trying to win you over, smooth talk you like he did to other girls. The two of you had just been having a normal conversation.

He was taken aback because rarely was he the one being kissed, usually he was the initiator. It only took seconds before he kissed you back, lips moving in synchronicity with yours. Your tongues connected harshly and angrily. He couldn’t tell if you liked him or still hated him, but by the way you felt in his mouth he didn’t care.

Your eyes flutter open, mind finally processing your actions. You harshly pull back, hands quickly moving away from his face and grabbing down onto the edge of the dryer. Your eyes grew wide and a look that could be mistaken for terror flashed across your face.

“Um- I…,” your tongue felt dry and heavy in your mouth, like you were suddenly having an allergic reaction to what you had just done.

You couldn’t come up with anything to say, and before you could his lips were on yours again. He pulled you in by the back of your neck, tongue moving over yours quickly resuming where you had left off.

Neither one of you could reason why this was happening, but it felt too right to care. You let yourself get lost in the kiss, ignoring how crazy and stupid and strange you felt. Suddenly you were leaning back, letting him pin you down against the cold metal beneath you. His hands gripped your sides with purpose and certainty, something you hadn’t ever felt from someone.

His teeth lightly graze your lower lip, pulling it slightly from your mouth. You let out an unexpected whimper, it was quiet and quick but you were sure he had heard. He did. It drove him fucking crazy.

He felt your body writhe underneath him, back arching slightly as his hands slid up your sides. Quickly realizing that the top of a washing machine was not the best place for this, he lifts you up, moving you so you were now straddling his lap.

A small gasp escaped you, surprised at how his strong arms swooped you up so easily. You let your whole body weight sink down onto his lap, pressing your chest tightly against his. Now it was his turn to let out a groan that wouldn’t go unnoticed.

He somehow slides off the machine and stands up, keeping you wrapped up against his torso. He moved with purpose across the small room, slipping into the small back room where no one could see you.

You were lost in the movement of the kiss when you feel your back firmly press against the wall, his body leaning into yours, the kiss getting hotter and wetter. You involuntarily roll your hips towards him, searching for some friction.

“Tell me you want me,” he groans into your mouth.

The way he looked at you like a hungry animal made your breath catch in your throat. His mouth moved to your neck and he buried his head there, kissing and sucking at your soft skin. The haze in your mind cleared for a second of clarity and you spoke with more conviction,

“I refuse to be one of your sexual conquests, Holland,” you continued to roll your hips against his, “You don’t get to tell everyone you fucked some nerdy girl in the laundromat.”

“Our secret,” he moves back to your lips, “but I need to hear you say it.”

“I want you,” your voice shrunk to a whisper.

One of his hands comes up to your chin, angling your head so he has full access to your neck. His tongue works against your pulse point as his hands come down to your things. Your shorts were a thin material, and he could easily feel you through them.

He squeezes your upper thighs, slowly moving up to your hips, pulling you into him.

“Tell me what you want,” your eyes roll back as his hands creep towards your dripping center, “tell me where to touch you.”

“Please,” you felt pathetic, but you press your hips further, trying to make contact with his hand, “I need you to touch me.”

His fingers dance under the hem of your shorts, moving up to your damp underwear.

“Is this all for me?” he says, almost mockingly, “I did this to you?”

You could only moan into his mouth as his fingers slipped into your underwear and moved against your wet folds. You tried to grind into his hand, but his grip on your hip kept you firmly planted against the wall.

“You act like you hate me, but you’ve been dripping for me this whole time haven’t you?”

He slipped a finger into you, curling it perfectly against your inner walls. He could feel you squeeze against him, your arousal starting to cover his whole hand. You couldn’t answer his question, rhetorical in nature, only gasp into his parted lips as he added a second finger.

He lowers his head to nip at your chest through your thin t-shirt, teeth grazing your nipple through the fabric. You manage to slip out of it, still pressed against the wall, legs shaky under you.

His mouth comes down to attack your chest with bites and hickeys as he continues pumping his two long fingers into you, thumb moving tight circles on your clit. You were slightly embarrassed at how quickly you felt your climax nearing. You had always thought of him as a cocky player, but at least this boy knew exactly what he was doing.

You moan out his name with a slew of profanities, eyes closing tightly. His lips move up to your ear, speaking directly to you as you start to shake under him,

“What is it?” his tone was arrogant and knowing.

“Fuck, I’m gonna come soon,” you squeak out.

“I’m going to make you come,” his hand suddenly moving faster and harder.

“Mmmhh, yes Tommy, you’re making me feel so fucking good.”

“I want you to come on my fingers, and then I want you to get on your knees and suck my cock with those pretty lips of yours.”

Your moans were getting higher pitched, his words only intensifying how good he was making you feel.

“I bet you’d like that huh. You wanna feel my cock in your mouth?”

You bite your lip and nod, feeling yourself tip over the edge with a cry of his name. His thumb moved quickly against your clit, fingers plunging a little deeper as he felt you contract around him.

You collapse forward, grabbing onto his shoulder, biting down on his skin to silence your own screams. You catch a glance at his face, that stupid cocky smirk still plastered onto him. In this moment you couldn’t bother to care, you could only focus on staying standing as waves of pleasure crashed over you.

When your eyes finally came back into focus, he was pulling his fingers from you and slipping them into his mouth. His thumb brushes across your jaw, migrating to press into your lower lip. You let your mouth slip down onto his digit, your tongue pressing against his thumb.

“Look at you,” he pulls his finger back, dragging your lower lip with it, “so fucking good for me.”

You give him a wide eyed look and start making work of his belt. His cock is hard and firmly pressed against the inside of his jeans. You palm him through the thick material for a second while dealing with the button and zipper.

You sink to your knees, fulfilling his request from earlier.

“Wait, here,” he grabs a towel off of a nearby machine and places it on the ground in front of him, “for your knees, the ground is really hard.”

It made you laugh how he had been so cocky one second and thoughtful the next.

“Thank you,” you say softly as you pump the shaft of his dick, looking up at him with big eyes while bringing your tongue out to lick a stripe up the underside.

His shirt was off now too and you couldn’t help but notice how beautiful his body was. You had always recognized that Tom was conventionally very attractive, but suddenly he was fucking hot to you.

You swirl your tongue around his tip and watch as his head tips back, causing him to let out a groan. You take his hand and move it to your hair, giving him permission to hold it.

He twists your hair into a makeshift ponytail, brushing the stray pieces back from your face. He grips tightly, pulling a little. You give him a moan and a nod, letting him know it was okay to pull harder.

He moves your head back and forth to meet your movements, hips moving slightly in the process. You gag a little as he hits the back of your throat, but continue bobbing your head, letting him slide down your throat a little every so often.

“Fuck, you look so good on your knees for me, gagging on my cock,” he tightens his grip on your hair, “taking me so well.”

The sight of you on your knees for him, lips wrapped perfectly around his shaft sent shivers down his spine. He watched attentively as his cock slid in and out of your mouth, your saliva leaving a wet trail around his length. What killed him was when you would look up at him through your eyelashes, big doe eyes begging him to fuck your face.

You dare to move south, taking one of his balls in your mouth as you continue jerking him off. You moan into him as he pulls your hair, vibrations adding to his pleasure.

“Fuck y/n, you’re fucking dirty aren’t you?” He was a little surprised at how aggressive you were taking him, shoving his cock deeper and deeper down your throat.

“I bet you’ve thought about this before, being a good girl on your knees for me, taking what I give you.”

Your eyes flutter shut as you flatten your tongue against his shaft, letting his hips do the work. You surely had never thought about him in this way before, that he was wrong about, but you surely would be thinking about sucking his dick all the time from now on.

You feel his cock twitch in your mouth, swelling a little at the feeling of your tongue. You knew he was close by his grip on your hair and his hip movements. You take him deep down your throat, sucking and lapping up his shaft.

“I’m gonna come y/n,” he warns you, although you already knew.

You continue to suck vigorously, swallowing his come and continuing to suck on him until his legs are shaking a little under your grasp. He lets go of your hair, which messily falls down around you. You release his dick from your mouth with a pop, admiring your work as it was red and twitching.

Tom slumps down against the wall and sits on the floor, meeting you at eye level. You look at him for a second, unable to read his reaction. You knew he liked it by the noises he had been making, but he sat across from you running his hands through his hair.

“What the fuck was all that.”

“I don’t know! You tell me!” you say defensively, “You seemed to like it.”

“Well yeah, you seemed to like it too,” he retorts, “actually, you seem to like it much more than most girls like sucking cock in my experience.”

“What can I say, you have a pretty dick.”

“Only pretty cuz it fits in your mouth so well.”

What were you doing? Was this flirting? You stand up and shake yourself off, walking over to where your clothes had been discarded. You start to slip your underwear back on.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Tom jokes, also getting up from the floor.

“Someone could walk in, plus I have to switch my laundry, gonna need your card again by the way.”

“This is some kind of fucked up trade off if you ask me,” he jokes.

“Still hate me?” He quips, always cocky.

“Jury’s still out,” you start to move your clothes into the dryer, “I’m gonna need to see more of what you have to offer before I decide.”

“Well, the dryer takes about an hour and I was hoping to make you come a few more times. Wanna see that pretty look on your face again.”

You sit up on top of the dryer and raised an eyebrow at him.

“Let’s see what you’ve got.”

#tom holland smut #tom holland #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland fic #smut #marvel smut #college!au #enemies to lovers #ask #suggestion #frat!tom #fratboy!tom #frat!tom holland

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escxpiism · 4 years ago

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( olivia holt, 23, she/her ) * hey, i’m looking for the office of ALICE ADAMS. they’re the EMPLOYEE who’s known around the office as THE MASK if that helps ? not to be a gossip, but i’ve heard that they’re ADAPTABLE but JADED, is that true ? i also heard that they’re the one who CATFISHED DAVID HASSELHOFF. anyways, here’s the coffee they ordered.

hi y’all !! i’m may ( 21 // est // she/her ) and i am super super pumped to be here !! i’m also very much writing this against my better judgment ya girl’s running on four hours of sleep and has the option to sleep more but......... is not tired ?? so i do apologize if my mind is secretly tired and makes this intro,,,, even worse than it would be fahouedn. on with the show !! anyway anyway!! feel free to like this if u wld like 2 plot and i will hit u up!!

( also, for some vibes if you so choose to read, here’s the link to her playlist ! )

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

QUICK FACTS:

full name: alice audrey adams

date of birth: october 26th, 1997

*will not perfectly reflect the zodiac big three below because that’s.... math.

zodiac big three: scorpio sun, virgo moon, taurus rising

gender & pronouns: cis woman & she/her

sexual orientation: bisexual

education: ged, bachelor’s degree in film — pratt institute

enneagram: 4w3

mbti: enfp

temperament: sanguine-melancholic

label: the mask

various inspirations: “nutshell” - alice in chains, “santa monica” - everclear, “polly” - nirvana, “jennifer’s body” - hole, “creep” - stone temple pilots, kate wallis ( cruel summer - shhhh ), heather davis ( crazy ex-girlfriend ), satana hellstrom ( marvel comics ), bojack horseman - without the amount of problematic ego ( bojack horseman ), eddie huang ( fresh off the boat ), the great britney spears evolution ( temporarily stopping at circus era )

BACKSTORY:

triggers in order: toxic family dynamic, grooming (nothing super in-depth), kidnapping (? like it was ‘willing’ but no. see next trigger for why), toxic “relationship” (and 11yr age gap w/ a 16y/o we hate it), straight-up captivity, very brief mention of suicide + heroin (very!)

*would like to quickly preface that this isn’t just Dark for the sake of being r/im14andthisisdeep but that’s for a later time **(also! i have markers for where the grooming + Super Dark parts begin and end! -- also, the Super Dark part is all very public knowledge. had articles. media frenzy. first thing that comes up if you google her name) *** also. if u need it then a tl;dr is below this section hfkldsa

alice audrey adams was born to the type of family that names all of their children alliterative names ( however, they sadly didn’t get their own kardashian-style show )... alexis adams (working name, utp if taken as a wc)... alfie allison adams (working name, utp if taken as a wc)... born to anna adams and allen adams... we hate it here.

as u can see... all of the kids were basically named after allen... they all had ‘al’ names.... extremely confusing

plot-twist: THAT’S the darkest part

the adams were very concerned with public image. as a family in the upper echelon, they simply had to be! a narcissist father, a distant mother, put in competition with her siblings — there was no truly healthy dynamic in the household. but they looked good. they went to church every sunday, a ‘wwjd’ sticker on the back of her mother’s car. they did just enough activities and took just enough trips together to get the image across. they threw parties. they attended parties. they were the picture perfect american family — they even had two cats in the yard! life used to be so hard!

of course, in reality, this all left ms alice quite the lonely gal. but don’t worry! she didn’t turn to hedonism! lord no! instead, she turned to other people. a lot of friendships — couldn’t tell if they were real or #fortheclout — but at a point, did it matter?

grooming tw: it all came to a screeching halt when she met luke johnson, the son of their neighbors. he came back from california to georgia to visit family, care for his ailing father. oh, he was a good man! sure, he was ‘somewhat’ older than her — 27 when she was 16 — but he was such a good, handsome young man! and they were all still calling him young man, after all.

alice ‘began’ a torrid affair with luke after about a month into his visit. although she saw no immediate wrong in it, he insisted she keep it a secret ‘for the time being’ — which really just made it all the more exciting! he made all the storm clouds that hovered disappear.

one day, the levee broke for alice (still figuring out what exactly happened because i don’t wanna go too dark since this is already extremely dark, but trust that it had something to do with her parents and was just enough to push her over the edge). convinced luke was the only safe person, she turned to him. knowing their small community would catch on and essentially exile him, he took that opportunity to convince her to go back to santa monica with him where they could ‘start anew’ after his father’s death.

there are a few details i plan on adding regarding like. how legality playing into it. but i may just reserve those for an official bio lhakfsdfj

**BEGINNING OF SUPER DARK** for a while, there was the question of whether they should consider it a kidnapping or not. she went with him willingly, but she was still underage (and… you know, that age difference… the power dynamic... gross y’all). the adams insisted that it was (bc it basically was lbr) — primarily because it would make them look far better — but the community still questioned the logistics and legalities of it all… ugh. did the police really wanna deal with that? ugh.

in any case, on the other side of us america, autumn was nearing. alice would have the very occasional inquiry over how school would work (very occasional! don’t worry, luke!), over the logistics of her new life… and, after receiving multiple calls from various friends (in addition to her siblings) that sounded genuine, began wondering… if she’d made the right choice. questions about him.

when she began bringing up the idea of going back — at least for the school year!! — he would continuously remind her that she was not old enough to buy herself a plane ticket (and he was not about to do that). she also couldn’t rent a car yet (and he certainly wouldn’t let her take (one of) his car(s)!). but most importantly? he loved her. and she loved him. (what a creep!)

so, for a hot second, it seemed like she was stuck. damn legalities!! damn love!! you know, until she texted her older sister back with all of the problems that only being 16... and “in love”.... caused. her sister offered to fly down, buy her a plane ticket, and fly back with her.

when luke saw this (with all the unrestricted access to her phone he had so he could block, delete, and manipulate as he pleased), he confronted her. things went awry. she wound up in his budding wine cellar (which he soon emptied, of course… those merlots :( ….). he messaged back and, as her, said it was actually all good!! luke had figured out the logistics and she could call whenever she wanted!!

and those calls became frequent! because she would pick up when luke held it up to her! because she was pretty sure luke would kill her if she didn’t!

she wasn’t sure how long it was until she was officially Found. it took what was ruled a suicide by luke, a shot to the head and heroin in his system, to finally get any authority’s attention. all she knew was that she went to santa monica in mid june and she stopped seeing regular daylight by late july. so some time in august to some time in april… **END OF SUPER DARK + GROOMING**

she was returned to georgia shortly after and everything was different. from herself to her friends. but everything was also the same. from her room to her family. it was all… teasing. she began going to therapy, but she really sucked at it?? so she just let her therapist rely on various articles that covered the event. because it had been a media circus. good enough, amirite??

she didn’t have the will or patience to put on that peppy facade she’d had before, but there were still a few things she found a smidge of joy in. music (although her taste had… slightly altered and wow! it’d been almost a year since she’d picked up that bass!), videography… just those small things, you know??

for the first half of the ~ 2014 fall semester ~, she attempted actual school. really was not working out. with, for probably the first and only time, her parents’ approval and understanding, she dropped out and studied for a ged -- shorter and self-led -- instead.

she passed with a pretty decent grade... but it’s been argued that she really shouldn’t have gotten into pratt institute (she was at least realistic and didn’t apply to, like… cornell), but she did. national news helps.

while in the concrete jungle where dreams are made of, she learned of masters. she submitted an application as a joke — because her grades sucked!!!!! — but guess who got a job?? oh, she could pretend it was because her selected portfolio was actually genuinely good… but, man… we all know…

fun fact: my uncle applied to harvard as a joke. some twenty-five years later, we still haven’t heard back :\

she… continues to suck. like… she kinda wants the place to eventually burn down?? figuratively speaking (or is it…) but ya, for all the monopolizing she has seen turn people Evil?? but the hell can she do about it… just gotta make sure she keeps her in-house videographer job… maybe she can do something about it when she like… is capable. fuaihoelwdjkn

she sees an in-house therapist and i’d say ‘good for her,’ but it was mandated l m a o

doesn’t talk about herself all that much!! but that might not matter for some people, yk?? ugh journalism <3

y’all im so bad at ending intros.

TL;DR:

(consult above trigger list): bright kid in a super rich and toxic family because obviously. everything they did was just to look good <3 also they all had ‘a’ names which is the biggest tragedy of all :( ‘fell in love’ when she was 16ys/o with a 27y/o who was visiting to care for his father in his final days. had a torrid affair. creep. creep (luke) basically made her ‘fall in love.’ she thought creep was the only safe person at one point and creep was like ‘wanna go back 2 santa monica w me?’ and she was like ‘yes.’ and everyone was like ‘was this kidnapping... we cant tell....’ then he became even more possessive when she started questioning him and some logistics. when she finally found a way she could go back to georgia for a spell, he was like ‘no u can go in my wine cellar btw i will be taking all of the wine out.’ he kept her there from august to april and... only reason he didnt keep keeping her was bc he was Caught so. back to georgia where the devil went down. everything was Worse. even the things that were the same. but hey, the sob story that landed her in the news plenty of times got her into a college she shouldn’t have gotten into and gave her a leg-up in a joke application for a job at masters (in-house videographer). really bad at doing her work but like... fuck the man i guess??

PERSONALITY + HEADCANONS:

has no time for Fake Nice (which, as a born southerner, she’s really good at sniffing out!). has no time for arrogance. kind of makes her at odds with the nyc upper class...

on that note, still got a lil bit of some georgia twang

she lets herself indulge in various vices, but has left a previous hedonist status. weed and alcohol are still pretty common, but everything else is kept at arm’s length.

also, while on that topic, she Does Not drink wine. being trapped in a cellar... kinda makes u averse. like. literally despises it. will go on autopilot and make it KNOWN if offered wine.

also ALSO while on that topic, after looking it up and seeing she fits the new york city requirements, she has a medical marijuana card <3 the one good thing, if u ask her, to come out of therapy/psychiatry <3 will not show it off unless absolutely NECESSARY bc then it gets personal or <3 will lie about why and say it’s like for epilepsy or sumn unless ur rolfe but <3 she has it <3

at odds with herself. enjoys the company of others, definitely has a history of being an extrovert, but has become very selective with the company she keeps.

VERY private person! has had enough public standing!

...has occasionally used her story to advance her tho bc it’s her national newsworthy tragic story and she can exploit it if she wants <3

when good charlotte said “i don’t wanna be in love”?? she felt that. her last ‘relationship’ ruined that for her <3 save her <3

used to be really into pop! bc pop is fun! she loved some britney (i mean... she still does... how can u not!)! but. her taste has changed drastically. rarely listens to pop. has traded britney for like.... hole and the like.

her parents didn’t use this as the basis for her name but,, 2 me,,, she’s named alice for a reason <3 gotta luv alice in chains <3

y’all i found a youtube comment on a video called ‘nirvana - half the man i used to be’ (the song was, in fact, ‘creep’ by stone temple pilots) and it’s <3 her music taste <3 click here for it <3

the above said, dresses like she’s in seattle in the early 90s.

her rumor is true btw she DID catfish david hasselhoff and she will proudly tell u. it’s her best accomplishment.

completely stopped talking to her parents and got cut-off a while back ago so now she’s livin like the Prols

which is how a rich kid one of my profs once advised referred to his classmates.... hilarity ensues.

the above in mind, her parents say she’s testing the waters as a ‘normal person’ to save face. they can’t have anyone knowing their family isn’t perfect <3

she has a pet turtle whom she named “dr. turtle,” although he’s constantly referred to as “doc” or “the doc.” he has his own youtube channel and tiktok account.

she has a wall full of evidence that courtney love did not kill kurt cobain... it makes sense, believe me.

became a vegetarian...... partially because it was different from her original life and a way to control something, partially because this commercial made her feel SO BAD.

literally her default mode is stoned like... a totally sober alice is rarer than a nessie sighting

when she was 18, before she could ‘hold her liquor’ as well as she can now, she got a lil too drunk and now has a portrait tattoo of courtney love on her forearm. but it was done well at least!!

kind of ironic considering her career, but RARELY posts on any social media site except twitter. after the media circus in 2014 and All Eyes On Her, she’s just..... so tired...... of ppl seeing her face and being like ‘omg ur that wine cellar bitch!’

(drugs tw) has become more and more Addicted to playing around with fate. j chill on a ledge, talkin to some pals, but deciding it’s a good idea to swing her legs on the wrong side of ledge? totally! mixing a lot of alcohol with opioids which she is not accustomed to? DEF!! (end tw)

more to come!!

CONNECTION IDEAS:

i have two (2) queued up!! but while we wait for them to post, i’ll just… link them over here: 1, 2

muse u <3 the other half of her subplot from the main <3

her older sister!

her younger sibling!

some of the basics!! you know: close pal, roommate, drug buddies (but she gotta hit them up), fwb, ons, frenemies, enemy

ppl who recognize her from the 2014 luke johnson articles and have either brought it up or,,,,,,, act Awkward™

cld be fun 2 just have like. a jam bud. someone who plays any instrument and they j. jam sometimes.

ppl she sells. some of her medical marijuana to. bc yk what weed may be legal in nyc now but,,,, she’s still found a way to be broke she will accept anything. and also it just became legalized THIS YEAR so!!

i have a budding wc page @ https://escxpiism.tumblr.com/wcs (and when i say budding, i MEAN budding) so feel free 2 check it out!!

more to come!!

#masters.intro #alice | intro !#this took me like....... 2hrs 2 write so i do indeed think my mind is fooling me and actually lagging behind.

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sockablock · 5 years ago

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In another world, where things had gone very differently, Essek would’ve finished his deal with the Assembly by returning home, leaning back into an armchair, pouring himself a drink and finally diving through the research. What marvels he might’ve found! What wonders he might’ve read! What deliciously captivating fragments of probability might’ve leapt from the pages and tantalized his mind!

Even now, he could still taste the realness of that dream. He could grasp its perfume, sort of like...like stale blueberry...

“Apologies,” a voice jolted him back into the present, “Carlos is asleep, and I would feel guilty raiding the pantry. These old pastries will have to do. And, ah—”

Essek saw a kettle and two cups grace the table. One of them was chipped. The other was poured for him.

“You should drink,” Caleb said, sliding it over. “You have had...I imagine you need it, after today.”

Essek touched the cup and felt the steam stain his fingers. He watched as Caleb, still adorned in party-wear, slowly found his way into the seat across the table.

He took his hair out of the ponytail. Essek drank.

“I…I want to say,” Caleb managed, after heavy silence, “we…really, probably, are not your enemies here.”

The tea left a strange, bitter-sweetness on Essek’s tongue.

“Probably?”

Caleb shrugged, and Essek certainly did not blame him.

“Probably,” he agreed. “This is complicated. On the one hand, you are Essek, a new friend we are fond of, who invites us to breakfast with cheeses and bread and who deigns to teleport us.”

“There was wine, too,” Essek added without much mirth.

“On the other hand,” Caleb continued, “you betrayed us, you have been playing us, you lied to us and you have hidden the truth of your allegiance. You consorted with people who would kill me, kill you, kill anybody in the pursuit of power, with no regrets.”

A pause. Then Essek:

“...yes. That too.”

Caleb sat back, past the winding curl of steam, past the cinnamon and the cardamom and the whatever else was in their tea.

“And you have already explained why,” Caleb finished, almost for himself. “For however much of an explanation that was.”

Essek’s eyebrows shot upward. He set down his cup.

“Hang on,” he said quickly, “hang on, I…know that I am not in a place to criticize, but I would think that you beyond anyone would understand exactly what I meant. I was tired of limitations, and the restrictions, and the...the ignorance! I wanted knowledge. I wanted to know. And I believed...I believed the only way to get that was through this deal. Through the Assembly. And as stupid of a decision in hindsight that it was...at the time, it was the decision I thought would be best.”

In the silence that followed, Caleb met his gaze.

“Ja. And thousands died.”

Essek went still. He breathed out.

“...I know.”

Between them, the kettle cooled. Essek had to stop himself from flinching when Caleb moved.

“Really?” Caleb’s voice was low, but not quiet. “Do you really know? Because when last we spoke, you told me that the worst thing you ever did was anger your father. Not that you made a calculated decision to start a war. Not that you willingly participated in that war. Not that you took prisoners, or tortured people, or ruined lives, and not even that you had hurt one of us, too, through this strife. N—Veth’s husband. He was your prisoner, remember?”

Silence.

And then Caleb swore. He leaned forwards, pushed the tea aside.

“Scheisse, that is...that is not what I meant. I...I am sorry, I had not intended to say those things. The whole world is already your reckoning, Essek, I did not want to make things worse. Gods, I am sorry.”

But Essek shook his head. His eyes were fixed on the table.

“No,” he murmured, “but...no, you are right. And do not be sorry to me, please. I am the one who betrayed you, after all. I am…I am the cause of all these terrible things, and that is…that is not something I can ever apologize for.” He snorted, and it was a wet, ungraceful sound. I have done something monstrous, and continued to reinforce it, and now that I finally have regrets I am already a monster for it.”

It was quiet, after that.

Essek stared at his tea. He stared at the muffin.

“Why am I here?” he whispered. “Why did you bring me back here if not to remind me of what I have done?”

There was a pause, then Caleb put his elbow on the table.

“Would you like to guess?”

Essek made an incredulous noise somewhere between a laugh and a sob. “I do not think I could guess right. I have never been able to understand you lot.”

Caleb didn’t move for a while.

Then he nudged the muffin forward.

“I would think, Essek Theylss, that you beyond anyone would be able to understand me, at least.”

He looked up, and their eyes locked in the dim light.

“And besides, I said earlier,” Caleb continued softly. “I told you that...ja, okay, maybe both of us are damned. And…part of why I was so harsh on you just now is that…as I said, I saw myself…I saw that in you. Both of us have done terrible things. We have killed, committed crimes, made decisions that ruined lives. But then we woke up. And now we’re still here. And we have people that we care about, and care about us enough to be willing to give us a second chance.”

He dipped his head. He leaned in closer.

“I have learned that I should try something this last year,” Caleb said. “Thanks to these people, I have learned how to give myself a second chance. Waking up from the fog is not always something that everyone will do. So when it happens, you have to seize that light. We are still here. We can still do something. Find your better self—” and he poked Essek in the chest, “find him, dig him out from whatever shit he’s hiding in, and rinse him off. It will never be too late to do something, but you must start.”

He sat back.

“And when you do start, Essek Theylss, we will be here to help you on. They were there for me. I am here for you.”

The steam from their kettle was almost gone, just a few faint wisps of warm spice left behind.

Essek put his hands on the table. They stopped shaking.

“Thank you,” he murmured.

Caleb nodded.

“Of course. This is what friends are for, after all. And, ah…on that vein, I…I have something...”

Caleb went quiet, voice replaced with shuffling fabric, and Essek dared to run a sleeve over his chin, then look up—

He blinked.

“What is…” he stared at the bundle on the table. “What is this?”

The corners of Caleb’s mouth picked up.

“Just open it,” he said. “Take a look.”

Essek did. The look of surprise did not fade even as his fingers brushed the curved edges of the gift.

“An amulet?”

Caleb nodded. “You have, ah...as you said, found yourself in a bit of a tight situation. So...you should have—no, I want you to have this. Just...just in case. Think of it as a...a token of friendship, to let you know that we are on your side.”

Essek studied the runes etched onto the gem’s surface. “Divi...abjuration?”

“Something like that,” Caleb agreed, and he was smiling now. “Just promise to not disappear on us, alright?”

Essek ran the pad of his thumb across the necklace. The chain was worn silver, but polished as if from years of constant brushing against a cloth.

He looked up again. The night was softly quiet, with the flickering of the candle and the far-off, distant sea. The air still hummed with the warmth of their tea, maybe a little bitter, but always, gently, sweet.

And there was still a muffin.

Essek smiled.

“Of course.”

—

✨ Ko-fi in bio✨ | 💜 Writing Tag 💜 | Requests Are OPEN!

#critical role #critfic #fic #fanfic #shadowgast #this is COMPLETELY self-indulgent but i hope yall enjoy #god do i love a good morally grey bastard set on the right path :.)#critrole #cr2 #cr spoilers #long post #fanfiction #jay writes #text #and i do mean long post

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flying-nightwing · 4 years ago

Text

Sparks Must Fly to Start a Fire (2/2)

Hellooooo again people. This is the second part as promised! It concludes the small serie, for a grand total of 12.5k words, which is higher than my average if I’m honest 😂 I had so much fun writing this, thanks anon! I hope it was up to your expectations! Enjoy part 2 xx

Masterlist in bio // pinned

Pairing: Jason Todd x reader

Word count: 7106

Warnings: violence, language, a bit of trauma

Day 9

“... There is no development in the case, all search parties came up with nothing. The GCPD now believes the disappearance of the young woman has a direct link to the major leak of incriminating documents that were shared to the DA’s office. The investigation, conducted by commissioner Gordon, might sound the fall of an empire of organized crime in Gotham if it goes through trial…”

“I was supposed to marry Vitto, today” You spoke up with mild boredom over yet another news story about you. You hadn’t realized time had flown this fast ever since you betrayed your family.

“Oh, oh wow” Jason hadn’t expected that. “Why would anyone do that?”

In the last days you had gotten into a semi-comfortable routine. The bickering was still very much present, but the snark had considerably deescalated. You had now tasted every snack he told you regular people ate, even those energy drinks he seemed to like to consume during long drives. You had even taken a cautious liking to the canned soups, which remained the only thing you knew how to make on a stove. Still, you didn’t escape Jason’s mockery everytime you didn’t know how to do something “simple”. You didn’t think you’d ever escape it, no matter what.

“It’s not like I had a choice” You said as a matter of fact, leaning back on the headrest of the car. “Women in my world are either trophies or mothers, depending on whether or not they’re still in their prime”

“Let me guess, you were to be Vitto’s trophy?”

“Bingo”

“How old is he, like 50?” He snorted.

“46” You corrected. “Not that it makes any difference”

Jason gagged. “Guess you dodged a serious bullet there”

“God, marrying that manwhore plagued my nightmares for weeks” You chuckled, looking up at the roof of the car. “Hope he rots in jail once this is over”

“Arranged marriage, uh?” He said, sending you a quick uncomfortable glance. Something akin to remorse flashed very briefly across his face, but it was gone as soon as it came. You only nodded. “Sorry about that”

“Don’t be” You brushed off. “That was essentially their downfall in the end. Half of the reasons why I leaked the documents was to prove to my family I am not a chew toy to throw to the dogs. A power grab was out of the question, especially after one of my distant cousins, Alaina, tried and got gunned down. I thought if I was to get killed, I’d go down trying to be better”

Your words were followed by silence, and you realized you had said too much. You didn’t want or need his pity. You cleared your throat and looked away. Soon enough, Jason pulled into a shady looking motel and stopped the car. You glanced in disgust at the overall state of the motel, thinking about how it was definitely the worst one you had stayed in so far, even if you hadn’t stepped foot in yet. The vacancy sign was flashing against the sunset in the distance, and it gave you serious serial killer vibes.

You grabbed your travel bag from the backseat and followed Jason in. The neons inside were barely functioning, casting a harsh glow on the lobby, if anyone could call it a lobby. The man behind the counter looked up at the sound of the little bell above the door and stood up slowly, showing off the grease stains on his yellowed wife-beater. He gave the impression of being just as crooked as his motel, especially with the creepy grin he gave the both of you, but especially to you. Jason walked up to the counter, unbothered by the general mood of the place.

“Good evening” The clerk greeted with a smoke clouded voice, glancing in between you two. “For an hour or two?”

You grimaced while Jason blinked slowly. Then, he smiled one of his smiles that looked normal, but hid something dangerous when you looked close. You had found yourself on the other end of those more times than not ever since he became your unofficial bodyguard. “Got anything for the night?”

The clerk laughed while you wanted to hit him. Hit them both, actually.

“I like your style, kid” He wrote something on his clipboard before turning around and grabbing a key from the wall. “That’ll be 60”

Jason took out three 20$ bills from his wallet and handed them in exchange for the keys. Jason however leaned further on the counter. “How thick are the walls in there?”

“You sly dog” He chortled, and Jason joined. “Don’t worry, if your girl ain’t much of a screamer nobody will know what you be doing. Here, take that, if you want some more fun”

“Perfect” His lips curled up as he accepted the flyer handed to him. You caught a glimpse of the bright green paper, announcing some kind of escort service. “Thanks”

“Aight kid, room 141. Have fun”

You forced yourself to ignore the lusty eyes he sent your way and snatched the keys from Jason’s hand, hurrying to the room. “What was that?” You hissed under your breath.

“You’re in a place full of suspicious people” He hissed back. “You gotta act suspicious with them or they’ll single you out”

“Did you really have to make it seem like I was a prostitute?” You said as you unlocked the door and pushed it open. You stepped in and let him in, before locking again the door behind him.

“There’s nothing wrong with being…” He trailed off as he halted his steps. His frame blocked the sight of the room for you, so you didn’t know what he was talking about. Was it dirty? Were there rodents? “Oh you must be fucking kidding me”

You finally peeked around him, to see only one bed rather than the two queens he usually asked. He had forgotten this time to ask, and the clerk had naturally insinuated you’d want to be together. How could he have not?

“At least it’s a King bed this time” You sniggered. “More space”

“I’m gonna get it changed” He turned around to go back to the reception desk.

“Wasn’t it you who said not to act suspicious?” You raised a challenging eyebrow. “If you go back there and ask for two beds, won’t that ruin all that acting you did over there?”

He spun around once again, facing you with narrowed eyes. He obviously didn’t like you using his logic against him. “Right.” He then side stepped you and went straight to the windows. He closed the blinds and proceeded to check the walls for… Whatever. He looked strange doing it.

“And right now you’re…” You trailed off, trying to find why he was all but caressing the dirty walls.

“Checking for cameras” He finished, looking inside a lamp. “Those motels sometimes have hidden cameras and the owners resell the tapes on porn sites”

“Oh god” You reacted, horrified. And he had the audacity to paint you off as a criminal, when those kinds of people existed. You thought you would be sick. He paused, sending you what you thought was a concerned glance--but it couldn’t be--before he returned to his examination.

“That’s why I’m making sure there’s none here” He mumbled.

You nodded, then carefully made your way to the bed. Despite the overwhelming scent of cigarettes latched onto the fabric, the sheet seemed relatively clean, at least for the general quality of the establishment. You dropped your bag in front of the dresser beside you and sat on the edge of the bed as Jason finished his inspection.

“All clear” He announced before taking out his gun from his belt and putting it on the nightstand. “You should rest, we won’t stay here too long. Also, if you can avoid the shower, I’d recommend you wait until we are somewhere else”

“I hate it here”

“Yeah well, our disastrous stop to Target has kind of tied our hands, princess” He shrugged, like it was your fault you had been found. “So we gotta settle for even less if you don’t want a redo”

“Will you ever stop calling me that?” You glared at him.

“What, princess?” He asked rhetorically, then paused and pretended to think. “No, no I don’t think so”

“You’re insufferable” You scoffed, climbing up further on the bed.

“I wouldn’t get under the covers either” He warned as you were about to pull back the comforter, totally ignoring your comment on his general attitude. “I doubt they’re washing them real good”

You shuddered in disgust as you instead opted for bringing your knees to your chest, hoping the room wouldn’t get too cold during the night.

Day 10

You didn’t if it was your state still clouded by sleep, or the shock that made you see the scene happen in slow motion.

Jason was waking up, sitting in the bed at a reasonable distance from you as your eyes cracked open. Still, you saw the sequence clearly. His back tensed and his head snapped to the window, then his eyes widened. He reacted in a fraction of second, grabbing his gun on the fly and diving on your side. You had barely the time to register his body colliding with yours that the first machine gun went off. You hit the ground hard, but you didn’t feel anything in the spike of adrenaline and paralyzing fear that surged through you. You could only close your eyes as bullets rained over you, and yet you weren’t even touched by the wood and cotton flying everywhere as his body caged yours in protection. His string of curse was audible above the commotion, which let you know he wasn’t gravely wounded yet. Yet.

There was a pause in the shooting, but your eyes were still ringing so loud you didn’t hear him call your name at first. You opened your eyes, disoriented.

“Hey, hey stay with me” He hurried his words, glancing over his shoulders. “Roll under the bed, don’t come out until I come and get you, and if they try to get you, hit them with anything you find, aim for the head”

You could only nod as he helped you get under the bed, and for one you couldn’t even be bothered to notice how filthy it was under there. You were terrified for you, but also for Jason who would face those people with a handgun only. You just hoped his skills hadn’t been exaggerated, or else it would be bad news for everyone.

There was chatter in between the gun fires, but you couldn’t decipher the voices. You counted there were at least six different tones of shout. However, judging by the familiar smugness of the exchange, you could have sworn it was Jason mocking them and not the other way around. It made you wonder exactly what kind of security he had done if he was taking the time to be smug in a one against five fight. Still, you were glad to have him on your side rather than against you.

“Hey”

You jumped and screamed at the sudden face appearing to your left, but let out a breath of relief when you saw it was Jason. He helped you out from under the bed, his glance shifty in between the door and windows. The room was a mess, he was covered in blood you doubted was his, and he was still on guards.

“So, we need to leave now” He said, already picking up his bag and yours. You noticed a second gun now strapped on his thigh and various new weapons in a utility belt. Where he got that was a mystery, but you didn’t question it. He gently pressed you along the bodies dropped at the threshold of the room and in the hallway until you reached the reception desk. You counted seven bodies. The same creepy clerk was cowering behind his desk, a darker stain on the crotch of his pants. Jason gave him an overall look and sighed, shaking his head. Still, he paused in front of him and dropped the bags.

“You son of a bitch” He chuckled lowly, menacingly. “You sold us out, didn’t you?”

He whined in response, confirming Jason’s suspicion.

“How much did you cash on the tip? 3k? 4k?” He taunted further, tsking in disapproval. “Can’t trust anyone these days”

“Please, I needed the money--”

Jason shot two bullets in his head. “Don’t care”

He turned on his heels and grabbed the bags again, bringing you along as gently as he could. You went outside, but he gestured for you to wait at a good distance from the car. He went over and inspected it, taking two devices off from two different places. Bombs, you figured. He threw the first one through the windows of the reception, then the other, he shot while in the air. An explosion went off, shaking your stance on the ground as the motel’s central area went up in flames.

“Oops, gas leak” He said blandly. “Come on, let’s get out of here”

You climbed in the passenger seat, clutching your now all dusted up bag for support. You needed to hold onto something while you came to terms with the repeated attempts on your life in the last fifteen minutes. Jason drove off, leaving the smoking building off to burn.

“Sorry you had to see that back in the lobby” He spoke when you were far enough.

“It’s fine” You shook your head. “He deserved it”

He blinked, a tiny bit stunned. “Hey are you okay?”

“Should I not be?” It came out weaker than intended. “I’m way in over my head with this”

“No, no, you did the right thing” He tried to reassure you, or that’s what you thought he was trying to do. Either way, it went right over your mental downward spiralling.

“I should have stayed in my lane” You kept mumbling, flexing your fingers on your bag. “I’d still be doing my thing, away from literal murder attempts in crappy motel rooms”

“Hey hey hey” He lifted a hand up. “May I remind you that you’d be married to Vitto fucking Maroni right now if you didn’t go rogue? That thought alone should give you relief”

You let out an uncontrolled laugh. What has your life become?

“Truth is I don’t know what I’m doing” You admitted, your voice cracking. “All I’ve achieved it to piss everyone off”

“Yeah you did piss everyone off, but so do I on a daily basis” He replied, making your frown in confusion. “Sometimes pissing everyone else is the only way to get things going, y’know?”

You blinked a couple of times. “I literally don’t”

He opened his mouth to reply, then closed it immediately. He then took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts. “All I’m saying is, doing the right thing is an ugly job. It’s hard and messy and fucks with you, but it doesn’t mean you shouldn’t try and do it anyway. I know this is all new for you, and this is a rather harsh welcome party, but you gotta fight through it”

You nodded, casting your eyes on him at last. His skin was reddened by the drying blood on his face and hair, and his clothes were dirty and torn. Amidst the cooling blood, you noticed a steady flow of brighter red coming off a hole in the sleeve of his t-shirt, widening the already big stain around it.

“You’re bleeding”

He looked down at his side, unfazed. “Oh right, a bullet got me on the initial wave”

“We need to get it out and close the wound” Your eyes found his for a brief second, before his glance returned to the road.

“It can wait” He downplayed it, probably by a force of habit.

“It looks like it’s bleeding a lot” You insisted.

“I’ll be fine--”

“It’s my fault you’re hurt” You interrupted him. You felt like you had at least to do something for him, especially since he just saved your life twice. Besides, you needed to focus on something else than what had just gone down. “Let me help”

He took a deep breath, then gave a little nod. He pulled over at the next gas station and parked the car, then went to his trunk, picking his first aid kit while you went to ask for the bathroom key. You joined him at the car and went to find the bathroom in the back of the building, locking the door behind you for privacy. You stood beside him as he rummaged through it, handing you a pair of pliers and disinfecting gauzes. You waited for him to take off his jacket, laying your supplies on the counter, then carefully rolled the sleeve of his t-shirt. You grabbed a clean gauze to stop the bleeding, gently pressing on the wound.

“Have you done this before?”

You didn’t see his question come, but you answered nonetheless. “Yes, a few times” You said. “On my older brothers. That’s something we learn, just in case we are the ones to patch up our husbands”

“Is this really how you were treated?” He asked, his voice surprisingly soft compared to what you had gotten so far. “Like a service wife in training?”

“Pretty much” You nodded with a weak scoff. You carefully checked the wound, and the bleeding had almost stopped. You grabbed the alcohol gauze and tore the pack open. “There isn’t much choice but to obey”

He didn’t even flinch when you cleaned the wound. “When I pulled the gun on you the first day we met, you said it wasn’t the first time somebody did that to you” He began, recalling the events from ten days ago. “What happened the other times?”

You put the bloodied gauzes aside and grabbed the pliers, disinfecting them with a smaller alcohol wipe before going for the bullet. “Would you believe me if I said something along the lines of wildly opposing my union to the Maroni family?”

His lips curled up slightly, but his teeth were clenched as you tried to grab the bullet well lodged in his flesh. You managed to get a good grip on it and slowly pulled it out. You immediately covered the wound again with clean gauze and dropped the bullet in the trash pile.

“Bullet’s intact, you should be fine” You said, holding the gauze with one hand and searching for a needle and a stitching thread with the other.

“How old were you when it happened?”

You paused, staring at his arm. How old were you back then, when your father announced you’d be part of a two-way deal with the Maroni family? Not very old, that was for sure. You pulled the gauze away and sanitized the needle, then passed the thread in the loop. “17, I think”

“You were just a child” It came out more like a statement than a question. You shrugged before beginning the stitches. He still wasn’t flinching as the needle came in and out of his skin,making it easier for you to do a clean job. You finally tied the thread and cut it with the scissors he handed you.

“I’m sorry I pulled you into this mess” You apologized as you wrapped the wound with yet some other clean gauze and bandaged it. “I… I didn’t plan this through at all. I felt the doors close on me and I acted without even thinking of the real consequences. I thought I would be strong enough to go with it, turns out I’m not”

You had been all bark and no bite, you could see that now. You came in strong, acting like nothing could get to you, like the threat was just an imaginary bound to keep you in place. You made a bold move to cross it, and now you could clearly see how dangerous the waters you were threading in actually were. It wasn’t child’s play anymore, it was real, and you caved under the pressure on your first real trial.

He turned around as he pulled his sleeve down, facing you. He was in your space, but it didn’t feel like all the other times. His presence wasn’t threatening. “You don't have to apologize” There was something genuine in his eyes. “And to pull off what you did needs strength, even if you don’t realize it yet. Your reaction to almost being killed doesn’t change that fact”

“It certainly doesn’t feel that way”

“Trust me, princess” His little teasing smile returned. “Someone who can hold her own against me like you did is not weak”

“I was just mean” You blinked in surprise, letting out a small chuckle. “I think that’s different”

“See, still arguing” His smile widened. You had known him for ten days, but you had gotten used to him being a certain way. This light and sincere attitude he had now was, to say the least, unusual for you. When he wasn’t constantly sneering, you noticed his features better. His blue eyes carried a kind spark, the type you found in a natural caretaker. The harsh angles of his jaw and cheekbones shaped a handsome face, decorated by little silver scars blending with his freckles. He was like a fallen angel shining through a broken halo, dangerous and protective, but only if you took the time to look past the burned wings. The unflattering white light of the bathroom made him look worn out, but it didn’t change anything to the raw beauty of his face. His bloody knuckles came in soft contact with your cheek, like a feather gliding on a cloud in the sky. His eyes never left yours, and even if they did, you felt like you’d follow them whichever direction they went.

He was tall, considerably so. He hovered over you like a safety blanket, your own shield from the dangers stalking you outside the door. At that moment, you had trouble understanding how his proximity had once filled you with so much unease you felt like hiding away, because all you could feel now was an all consuming calm. There was however a pulse that was alive, one that was begging you to get closer. He seemed to have felt it too; his movement was slow, letting you more than enough time to back off. As his lips slowly got closer to yours, you know you didn’t want to move away. You filled the distance separating you from him and met him there in a gentle kiss to test the water first.

It didn’t take long for you to lose control. All the emotion of the last days that had bottled up were let to run wild in between you two like an electric current, surrendering your every sense to him. Your hands went to the back of his neck for support, because god knew you needed it. His arms sneaked behind your back as he pushed further into you, quickening the pace of the kiss and clouding your mind. Tongues battled in a war that was already won, knowing in one way or another he’d be the victor. You could feel all the tension, all the frustration, all the anger and all the guilt coming in strong before burning like dry wood in a bonfire. Were there any versions of this that didn’t end where you were? It seemed impossible.

You didn’t want to open your eyes just yet when he pulled away, reluctant to even let go. He captured your lips in a couple of kisses before fully letting you catch your breath.

“Well” His voice was barely over a whisper over the panting. “That might be one way to settle an argument”

“Then I might pick more arguments” Your lips lifted in a small grin.

“And I might not object to that” His eyes were bright with amusement. “Besides, I might have gotten around to like that smart mouth of yours”

“Oh, have you now?”

“Might” He corrected.

“Sure” For the first time in what felt like forever, you actually smiled. You slowly retracted your arms from his neck, letting him stand straight again.

“Come on, let’s get out of here and put as much distance as we can from this motel” He said, but it lacked the patronizing tone it once contained. It was even like he didn’t actually want to leave just yet, but had to, or both of your safety. You shared the sentiment.

You packed the first aid kit and burned the bloody gauzes in the sink, then killed the fire and returned the key to the counter. You drove away shortly after, confident things might just be alright this time.

Day 16

You had circled back to the first place you had stayed in, the little cabin so far in the woods you were almost sure nobody would find you, or at least not yet.

Jason had told you he had installed security devices on the dirt road to make sure he was aware of anybody driving up, as well as the traps he had set in the woods. Once again, it reinforced your idea that his job experience might not have been a traditional one. You frankly didn’t mind, as you were in no position to judge a potential criminal past. Besides, you believed anything he did couldn’t be worse than what your family or the Maronis did on a daily basis.

You had woken up when the sun was already high in the sky, and to your surprise Jason had still been there, on his back and staring at the ceiling. When you had turned around on your side, he had mimicked you to come face to face with you, not talking at all. His wound on his arm had stopped bleeding during the night, for which you were thankful for. It eased your guilt to see it was healing well. You had stayed there for what seemed like hours, but it was comfortable.

“I meant to ask,” He began, his voice soft and husky from the morning. “Why did you go to Bruce with the leak?”

You blinked slowly, tilting your head slightly to the side. “Well, I couldn’t go to the police, it was out of the question. I couldn’t trust any of them to pursuit this case”

“But what made you trust Bruce in particular?”

“I… I like to listen when people talk. Before, it gave me the impression I was part of the family business and not just an accessory, and that way I got to hear bits and parts of the discussions conducted behind closed doors” You began. “More times than not I would hear how Wayne Enterprises projects got in the way of their plans, and how Bruce Wayne would always do something to undermine them legally. So after I stole the intel, there was really one way I was certain would yield results, one person I was certain would have all the interests in the world to see this trial happen”

“That’s…” He trailed off, an impressed expression on his face. “That’s surprisingly smart”

“Surprisingly?” You raised an eyebrow.

“For someone who had no idea how to use a can opener, that is”

You slapped his chest as he let out a laugh; he was so proud of his joke. “Hey, I learned!”

“I know, I know” He chuckled, reaching his hand and brushing a rogue hair strand away from your face. You had noticed as the days passed that he seemed to favor the little touches and the unspoken rather than obvious and obnoxious displays. You knew he was more of the quiet type when he wasn’t arguing with you, always working in his corner and doing his stuff. It hadn’t really changed ever since the gas station moment, but this time he would steal little glances, brush his hand against yours when he’d change gears in the car, or make sure he took out a bowl for you as well when you made your canned soup. “You adapted better than I thought you would, considering the entire lifestyle change you had to go through in the last two weeks”

“I didn’t have much choice, did I?” You grinned.

“Nope, not at all, princess” He pushed himself on his elbows and leaned down to kiss you. You smiled onto his lips, welcoming the slow movements of him against you. However, you gently pushed him back after a moment, knowing if he had it his way, you’d stay there for hours.

“Jason” You said his name when he was visibly trying to distract you again with butterfly kisses on your jaw, only pausing to give you wide, innocent eyes. Insufferable. “I have to go take a shower”

“I’ll come with” He shrugged.

“What?”

“Yeah” He nodded. “Listen. You hired me to protect you, so that’s what I’m going to do”

“From what?” You laughed at his serious tone.

“Water’s cold”

“So NOW you want to protect me from the cold water?” You raised an eyebrow. “That surely wasn’t the discourse you held two weeks ago”

“People change, princess” He sighed exaggeratedly before getting up and walking to your side of the bed. “Come on, you said it yourself, you’ve got a shower to take”

You rolled your eyes, but nonetheless accepted the hand he held out for you. You went to the bathroom and undressed, then managed to get into the relatively small shower, your back to Jason. He was so tall he actually shielded you from the water from the showerhead when he turned the shower on, getting all the burning cold on his back instead.

“See?” He chuckled. “No cold water”

“But how will I wash myself if the water doesn’t get to me?” You asked, looking at him over your shoulder. He stared blankly at you, like he didn’t think of that.

“Let me worry about it” He dismissed, making you laugh.

“Alright, alright”

He began slowly rubbing your skin with his wet hands, spreading water indirectly. His fingertips were still cold, but you knew for a fact it was slightly better than the direct flow from the tap. Goosebumps erupted all over your arms and back, both from the sudden change of temperature and his touch. You closed your eyes, enjoying the contrast in between the water and his still warm chest. He wet your hair, combing it with his hands, before he put the shampoo in and made it lather. Immediately, you recognized the smell.

“Is this your shampoo?” You asked, your eyes opening.

“Mhh”

“I thought you didn’t like when people used your stuff”

“Technically, I’m using it”

“Still!” You replied. “You practically threatened me last time I dared wear your shampoo”

“Truth is” He leaned in, his lips almost pressed against your ear. “It kinda drove me hog fucking wild to have you prancing around smelling like me”

Your eyes widened and the back of your neck heated enough for you to warm the water dripping down your back. You gulped, unable to answer that as it came as a shock for you that you have had another effect on him aside from pissing him off. He chuckled at your lack of comeback, his hot breath fanning your jaw. He slowly rinsed the soap out of your hair, then began washing your skin. His hands massaged your muscles as they went, making you sigh in contentment. At this point, you had backed so much into him you were just as much subject to the direct contact of the water as him, but you didn’t care.

He trailed small kisses from behind your ears down to your shoulder before pausing there, as if he was hesitant. He lifted his head slightly, and you could see his stare right on you from your peripheral vision.

“I need to tell you something”

You were surprised by the sudden seriousness of his words, but you tilted your head to show him you were listening.

“I’m the Red Hood”

You blinked slowly, registering his words. Well, that certainly explained things. You even wondered how you didn’t see it sooner, but now that he mentioned it, it had been rather obvious. “... Congratulations?”

You could feel he wasn’t expecting this reaction. “That’s… That’s all?” He stuttered. “You’re okay with that?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” You turned your head to look at him properly. “You saved my life so many times, I am not about to complain how you did it”

“But I did a lot of bad too,” He argued. “Some things that might change your opinion”

“You’re seriously asking me, who comes from a crime family, if I’m okay with you doing crimes?” You deadpanned. His face changed, as if he was reevaluating his entire argument.

“When you put it like this…” He trailed off, nodding. You could however see the relief in his eyes at your acceptance of his double identity. Especially with the kind of job he was doing here with you, you could only imagine how blurred the line in between the two personas must have been at times.

“Why did you tell me?” It was a gentle question, full of wonder as to what pushed him to reveal to you such an important, personal detail about himself. Your hand sneaked up and covered his still on your forearm.

“I thought you should know” He muttered back, his voice barely rising over the noise of the water hitting the shower’s floor. “You never asked what I did before, or how I took care of seven hired guns at the motel. I wasn’t sure if you just avoided it, or…”

“Don’t worry” You interrupted him softly. “Moral compasses are no issues with me”

His lips reached yours under a freezing rain, your bodies numb to anything but each other.

Day 25

A few days ago Jason received a call from Bruce.

The arrests had been made and the trial date had been set. As you had predicted, they tried to keep the relative information about it under wraps so you wouldn’t be aware it was happening. But fortunately, with Bruce’s quiet oversight of the process, he had managed to relay the details on time. You hadn’t been very far from Gotham when the news dropped, but you were still thankful for the heads up. It had given you time to plan your safe return into the boundaries of the city, staying hidden in another one of Jason’s safehouses until the day came for you to be a witness in the trial.

It was now in progress, it had just started some minutes ago. You were staying in an adjacent room that was guarded by people under Bruce’s paycheck, with Jason laying on a couch behind you, looking at his phone while you were getting ready. You were thankful that you had brought a second designer outfit with you, because you weren’t sure your gray t-shirt from Target with the oversized men’s pants you inherited on your first day with Jason would have looked very professional or credible. You did your makeup carefully with the basic products you had, then took a look at yourself in the mirror. You smothered the creases in your blouse and made sure the belt wasn’t twisted in the loops of your slacks, and sighed.

Jason stood up from the couch and walked to you, stopping behind you and sneaking an arm around your waist. He snuggled his nose in the crook of your neck and placed a small kiss there. “Am I an asshole for thinking you look better in a 30 bucks outfit?”

You laughed despite your nervous state. He was trying to distract you and you welcomed it. “Not more than usual, no”

He gasped at your rebuttal, but you could see the amusement in his eyes. “Is that what you really think of me?” He asked. “I’m hurt”

“Aw, come here” You pouted, turning your chin over your shoulder. You raised your arm to rest your hand on his cheek and gently pulled him down into a kiss. Your eyes fluttered close when his lips met yours, letting your relish in his comforting presence. You felt your heartbeat slow down as you sighed against his lips, wishing to remain there with him for another hour or so. Alas, the moment was broken shortly after when the door opened.

“They will soon be--oh”

You pulled back from the kiss, but Jason didn’t move away at the sound of Bruce’s voice behind you. You could feel he was annoyed at his adoptive father ruining the mood, but at least he wasn’t pissed like you had seen he could be on day one. That in itself was a relief.

“Am I interrupting something?”

“No, not at all” Jason replied in a clearly sarcastic tone. You stifled back a laugh at the grimace he was doing to mock Bruce. “Perfect timing as usual”

Bruce didn’t answer that. He only closed the door behind him and headed for the desk, leaning back on it. Jason followed his movements in the mirror like a hawk.

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad you aren’t at each other’s throat anymore” He began, a cryptic smile on his lips. “But I hadn’t expected… Whatever this is”

It was Jason’s turn to sigh as he reluctantly parted away from you. He didn’t go far, however. He stayed by your side like another threat on your life could pop up at any moment. “Shocker”

“As I was saying” Bruce reprised, ignoring Jason’s side comment. “They will call you to the stand soon. I just wanted to check up on you and see if you had any questions or concerns before you go out”

“How solid is the case built?” You asked.

“It should hold” He nodded. “From what I’ve seen, it’s solid in front of a jury. Your testimony will have to be conclusive if we want to catch some Maroni members in the lot, but I’m confident you’ll be stellar”

You gave him a small smile. You knew your father would be there, glaring at you like you were the devil itself, but you repeated to yourself you could go through this. There was no way he would be as intimidating as Jason in the first few days, and you came out on the other side unscathered. He couldn’t hurt you anymore, and soon he would reap what he sowed.

“How secure will the witness booth be?” It was Jason who spoke this time, his eyes straight on Bruce like he was challenging him to give an answer that wouldn’t be good enough.

“The two guards in front of this room will accompany her in the courtroom” Bruce replied calmly. “There will also be one more guarding the door, and I supposed you won’t be far as well”

He only hummed in answer, but he seemed satisfied with this plan. Bruce checked his watch and stood up, hands in his pocket.

“It’s time”

You nodded, exhaling a shaky breath. You exited the room with Jason at your side and the guards behind you. You walked down a few hallways before you stopped in front of the witness booth door. You forced yourself to take deep breaths and visualize the end result. You could do this, you could do this.

“Keep your head high, stay confident” Jason muttered in your ear as the door opened in front of you. “You got this, princess”

With his last words of encouragement, you were brought into the courtroom.

Day 101

“... The sentence of the twelve convicted has dropped this morning on the order of judge Monroe, a little less than three months after the devastating trial that landed a blow on organized crime in Gotham. The twelve men will each serve a sentence ranging from twenty to forty years in a maximum security facility, on counts of attempted murders, first degree homicide, money laundering, drug trafficking and tax fraud. Amongst the convicted is Vitto Maroni, a notable figure in Gotham’s public life…”

You jumped when a loud pop dragged your attention away from the TV.

Jason was standing there with a proud grin, pouring foaming sparkling grape juice in two champagne flutes. You laughed as he handed you one, plopping next to you on the couch and clinking his glass on yours.

“Cheers to a victory,” He declared. “that wouldn’t have been possible without you”

“Don’t flatter me too much, give yourself some credit” You matched his grin. “You’re at least 20% responsible for this”

“Ah yes, my 20% contribution” He nodded thoughtfully. “Eighteen percent bullets shot, two percent bullets received I recall”

You laughed with him, drinking the fizzy beverage. He lifted his arm, and you crawled under it to snuggle on his side, careful not to spill anything. It had become a habit for you to end up one way or another in his arms, even after the trial ended. He had offered you to move in with him shortly after, when you had tried to give him the ten thousand dollars you had promised him after the trial. Not only had he refused to even look at it, but he gave you back the 5k you had already given him beforehand. He had insisted for you to keep it and invest in whatever you wanted to turn your life around like you wished.

He had been excited for you when you announced you would enroll in law school, saying your argumentative side would definitely come handy as an attorney.

“I’m proud of you”

You looked up at him to see a fond glint in his eyes, one that made your heart melt. For all of his rough edges, he was certainly very soft inside. All he wanted was for you to be safe and happy, and you couldn’t ask for someone better to start your new life with. You snuggled further into him as he kissed the top of your head and tightened his arm around you.

“Thank you for being there for me” You mumbled through his clothes. “It means a lot”

“I couldn’t walk away from you even if I wanted to, princess” He smiled against your hair. “You are so stuck with me”

“Good thing I’m not going anywhere, then”

You changed the channel to a movie and spent the rest of the night cuddling on the couch, you wearing his t-shirt and shampoo and him holding you like a treasure.

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