#i have a florist van as well

[nexus-nebulae]

it took. so many weeks but i Finally managed to collect all the major terrain things i wanted for my campsite in pocket camp and im Very happy i love my little garden corner

[makeitmingi]

When Flowers Bloom In The Dark [Chapter 2]

Genre: Romance, Mafia!AU, Violence, Angst, Slow burn

Pairing: Hongjoong x Reader (y/n)

Characters: Florist!Reader, Mafioso!Hongjoong, Mafioso!Seonghwa, Mafioso!Yunho, Mafioso!Yeosang, Mafioso!San, Mafioso!Mingi, Mafioso!Wooyoung, Mafioso!Jongho

Summary: When you appeared and wept at his mother's funeral, Hongjoong found himself wanting to find out more about you. A regular girl, who owns a flower shop in his territory and has a relationship with the mother that he hasn't spoken to in years, why hasn't he ever noticed you before?

[Warning(s): 18+ for violence, use of weapons, smoking, alcohol consumption, slight gore, gang affiliation, tattoos and character deaths. Minors DNI. This is a work of fiction and does not represent the Ateez members in real life.]

Word count: 3.2K

With an iced tea in hand, you unlocked the glass doors of your shop and entered. You turned on the lights, placing your tea on the counter and your bag in your locker. Since you were the only worker here, there was no one else to use the lockers but you.

"Roses, tulips, carnations..." You grabbed your notepad to check the incoming deliveries today. The first thing you did was check on your plants and water them.

"You're growing well." You smiled softly, seeing the plant that you sprout, moving the pot away from the direct sunlight.

"(y/n)?" You heard the familiar voice of your supplier at the back door and went over.

"Good morning, Mr Lee. Do you have any surprises for me?" You giggled. You had a good relationship with all your suppliers, they always helped you bring in quality products.

"Well, besides your usual orders, I have some hydrangeas if you would like." He climbed into his truck.

"Here." He pushed the bucket to show you.

"Oh, they're absolutely beautiful. I'll take them." You smiled. He nodded and helped you bring everything in, he usually knew where everything went.

"Sunflowers aren't selling too well." You shook your head in disappointment, seeing your sunflowers there.

"Sunflowers aren't trendy anymore. Have you seen what's on the internet? My daughter told me that girls are content with just bouquets of baby's breaths now. How times have truly changed, right?" He chuckled with a click of his tongue. You nodded and moved the roses into the refrigerated area.

"It's a minimalist thing, no? Bigger isn't better anymore. No one comes in for traditional bouquets anymore." You sighed, going to the cash register to get the money.

"Tell me about it... And this should be everything." Mr Lee said, glancing over the flowers that he brought in.

"Thank you, this is the payment." You handed the money to him. He nodded and placed it in his pouch.

"Also, Mr Lee. I remember you mentioning that Mrs Lee keep getting her hands burnt when she's working at her restaurant. I made her an aloe balm. This should help soothe the burns." You held the tin out.

"Oh, you're too kind, (y/n). Thank you so much for making this." He patted your shoulder.

"Have a nice day. See you next week." You walked him out.

"See you." The both of you bowed to each other and he jumped into his van before driving off. You returned to your counter and began your work for the day.

"Let's see..." You checked the online orders that you had and printed it out for reference.

Moving to your work bench, you began to prepare the flower preparations for each other. You trimmed the stems, removed the excess leaves and cut thorns away before wrapping them up with either cellophane or tissue paper.

"Hello? Are you open?" The bell above the door jingled. A girl walked into store, carrying a pot with her. You cleaned your hands and walked out to the front.

"Yes, we're open. How can I help you?" You smiled.

"My fern seems to be wilting and I can't seem to revive it. Can you help?" She asked.

"Let's see what's the issue." You escorted in. She placed the pot on your work table and you inspected it. The girl patiently waited, watching you as you checked it.

"From what I see, the soil isn't draining water properly. It's retaining too much water and suffocating the roots of the plant." You said.

"What? Can that happen?" She blinked.

"Yes, so that suffocation prevents the roots from absorbing the vitamins and minerals. You should mix a well drainage soil of this ratio and move your fern in." You wrote the ingredients down.

"And I can find this at the plant store?" She asked, reading through what you wrote down.

"You should be able to find the components. But if you don't mind waiting, I can mix some for you to take home." You offered. Hearing that, she let out a sigh of relief and nodded her head excitedly. You went to your storage area to grab the different soil components that you need.

"Peat moss, sand and potting soil." You mixed the components into a bag, adding some fertiliser as well since the fern currently lacked essential nutrients.

"For two weeks, put two drops of this plant reviver into the soil even if you are not watering it." You handed her a small vial.

"Thank you. Actually, do you mind repotting it into the new soil for me? I'll pay you." She requested.

"Alright." You took the fern out and got rid of the old soil. You poured the new soil in, creating a well to put the fern in. After that, you loosely covered the roots with the soil.

"Done." You smiled, removing your gloves.

"Thank you. This is actually my mum's plant and I'm helping her take care of it. I know nothing about plants." She said in embarrassment.

"No worries, the plant should be fine from here. If there are anymore issues, you can come back." You chuckled and rang up her bill. She nodded and paid.

"Thanks again." She bowed and walked out of the shop. After that, you went back to preparing your orders. There were some pick ups today so you wanted to make sure that everything was in order for a smoother pick up.

"Hi, I'm here for a pick up?" A guy walked into the store.

"Sure, can I see your order number?" You asked. He showed you the confirmation email and went to retrieve his order. It was a flower box instead of a bouquet.

"Just make sure everything is okay for you before paying." You said, rounding the counter to the cashier.

"Do you mind changing the ribbons to pink too? She really likes pink." He requested.

"Of course." You grabbed the ribbon. With pink flowers, you wanted to add contrast with a different coloured bow but since he wants it to be pink, there was no issue with changing it.

"That's better. Thanks." He handed you his card.

"I wrote the congratulatory message as you stated in request email but if you'd like to write your own message. This is a spare card, on the house." You handed him the blank card.

"Thank you, I don't know what else to write but if I come up with something I'll add it." He rubbed the back of his neck with a sheepish smile. You hummed and rang up his bill, writing the invoice and handing him a copy, along with his credit card. With a grateful bow of his head, he left the shop.

Before you knew it, the clock hit 1pm, with customers coming in to buy, place advance orders or collect orders they've placed.

'Closed for lunch.'

You sat behind the counter with a tired sigh, taking out your lunch box. Your meals usually consisted of sandwiches or leftovers from dinner the night before.

Which was why Mrs Kim would usually come with food for you, always disapproving of how your eating habits.

RING!

"Sorry, we're closed at the moment." You said from behind the counter, not looking at the door. But you didn't hear the second ring of the door opening again so you stood up.

"Oh!" Your eyes widened in surprised as Hongjoong stood there, looking around the shop.

"Hongjoong sshi..." You blinked, maybe you were dreaming. Maybe your guilt was too much that the male was appearing in your dreams.

"Good afternoon, (y/n) sshi. Is this a bad time? Should I come back at another time?" He asked with a slight tilt of his head, fingers resting on the buttons of his blazer. You shook your head, reaching to get a tissue to wipe your mouth.

"It's fine. What can I help you with?" You came out from behind the counter to properly greet him. He patiently waited as you pulled a chair for him to sit.

"Please, would you like something to drink?" You offered.

"No, I'm fine. Actually, (y/n) sshi, I came to apologise for my reaction during my mother's funeral." He stood back up.

"What? There's nothing for you to apologise for, Hongjoong sshi. I should be the one apologising, I overstepped and said too much. It wasn't appropriate of me." You bowed deeply.

"You didn't overstep at all. Your intentions were good, I reacted poorly." He bowed back.

"No, you're grieving, it's normal." You smiled softly.

"Thank you for understanding." Hongjoong held his hand out but remembered that it was bandaged and cursed under his breath, hiding it and putting his other hand out for you to shake. If you were phased by his injury, you didn't show it. You smiled and slipped your hand into his to shake.

"I should go and let you carry on with your meal." He said once you both let go.

"No, it's fine. You can stay if you'd like." You smiled softly. He let out a small hum and continued to look around your shop, observing all the plants around.

"So, this is where my mother hung out?" He asked, picking up a stalk of rose from your work bench and twirling it.

"Sometimes... She would come for lunch or tea. We would just chat over food." You replied awkwardly.

How much were you supposed to say about Mrs Kim to her own son? You didn't want to sound like you were boasting about your time with her either, that wouldn't do any good.

"I see." He said, placing the flower back down.

"Hongjoong sshi..." You rubbed your arm, unsure of how to continue this conversation.

"Sorry for making you uncomfortable. Just... The truth is, you know a lot about my mother that I don't. You've spent time with her while I didn't so I can't help but feel curious. My relationship with her wasn't as good as she made it out of be." He informed.

"Oh. Hongjoong sshi, it's not my place to judge you or your relationship with Mrs Kim. Whatever relationship I had with her is vastly different from your own." You said.

"You're very kind, (y/n) sshi." He complimented. Your cheeks heated up in embarrassment.

"I should go." He stood up.

"Wait before you go. Your bandage, do you want me to help you replace it?" You pointed. Hongjoong looked down and saw the blood beginning to seep through.

"It's fine, I shouldn't take up more of your time." He shook his head.

"Not at all. I can help if you'd like." You offered. With a soft sigh, Hongjoong sat back down.

"I'll go get my medical kit. Be right back." You told him and went to the back room to get what you needed. You also took a salve that you usually used for wound care.

"I'm not a doctor but I am first aid certified and I study medical plants in botany so you don't have to worry." You smiled and took a pair of cutters to cut away the bandages that Yeosang had wrapped around Hongjoong's hand. Hongjoong quietly observed you, not saying anything else while you focussed.

"I made this salve for wounds. It should help with soothing the wounds and healing." You explained, cleaning the blood.

"Do you always make your own medicine?" He asked.

"No, I just make simple stuff. I'm still learning." You giggled, tucking your hair behind your ear before applying a thin layer of the salve over the cuts and wounds.

"Does it hurt?" You looked up at him. He shook his head and you sighed in relief.

"You can bring that home with you to apply when you change bandages. I have some more." You explained.

"You do a better job than my brother." Hongjoong said after observing how you properly wrapped a new bandage around his hand and secured it in place.

"You should remove the bandage after 3 days to let the wounds breathe and dry." You said.

The entire time, you never once asked Hongjoong about how he got injured or acted differently. You treated it like any other scrapped knee and healed him. Usually, people would be scared or ask him how he got injured like that.

"Thanks." He looked at his newly bandaged hand.

"You're very welcome. If you see signs of infection or get a fever, go to a doctor." You advised. He nodded and took the small pot of salve, putting it into his pocket.

Will he use it? Probably not. But he saw how dedicated you were and for some reason, didn't want to disappoint you by not taking it.

"Bye, Hongjoong sshi. I'll see you around?" You blinked at your own words, uncertainty in your voice.

"Have a nice day, (y/n) sshi." He didn't address it, merely bowing his head and leaving your shop. You let out a long exhale, feeling like you've been holding your breath the entire time.

"Ah!" You suddenly remembered the silk handkerchief that you had washed and in your bag.

"Too distracted." You scratched your head and went to the counter to eat a few more bites of your lunch before you had to reopen.

You were not too bothered that you hadn't returned the handkerchief to Hongjoong. Even if you did feel guilty, you had an inkling that you would be seeing Hongjoong again soon. What ate at you more was how foreign Hongjoong spoke about his mother, like she was a stranger that he didn't know.

"Hongjoong, where are you?"

"I went out to run an errand, Seonghwa. Don't worry, I didn't drive. I got the driver." Hongjoong sighed, sinking into the backseat of the Rolls Royce he was in.

"I'm not worried about that. I just wanted to make sure you didn't do something dumb like blow up a building."

"Geez that happened ONCE, let it go... And I'm going to work, I have to go to my club." Hongjoong said, looking at his bandaged hand.

"You don't have to go back to work right away, Hongjoong. The boys and I can take over while you take a few days. You've needed to take a break for a while."

"I'm the leader of Ateez, Seonghwa. I don't need all of you to take over my work." Hongjoong replied.

"But..."

"Yes, my mother died. But sitting around isn't going to bring her back to life. I still have roles to fulfill, I'm not going to let anyone strike us just because I'm down. There are people counting on us, relying on us." He continued.

"Alright. Stay safe then, Hongjoong. I'll see you at the docks meeting at 5pm?"

"Yeah, thanks Seonghwa. I'll see you later." Hongjoong hummed and hung up. The car stopped before Hongjoong's club and the manager came out, opening the door for him.

"Good afternoon, Mr Kim." The manager bowed. The club wasn't open yet so Hongjoong could get some administrative work done.

"Get me a drink and come up to the office." Hongjoong said, walking into the club.

"Yes, sir." He bowed. Upon his entrance, all the workers stopped and bowed down to greet their boss This was the main club Hongjoong worked out of so they were used to seeing him around.

"Give me 10 minutes. No one is to enter." Hongjoong told the guard who stood by his office door.

"Yes, sir." The guard bowed.

Hongjoong entered his office and sat down in his chair. There were some things he needed to do and catch up on privately, without any interruptions. As the leader of Ateez, he had to keep track of the other Ateez members and their work, on top of his own. But the boys always did their work so it wasn't hard on him.

*KNOCK KNOCK*

"S-Sir?" Hongjoong heard the timid voice of the club manager outside his door, making him look up from his phone where he was sending messages to Yunho.

"Has it been 10 minutes?" Hongjoong asked back, tucking his phone into his blazer pocket.

"Yes, sir." The male on the other side replied.

"Come in." Hongjoong said. The door opened and the male came in with his iPad and Hongjoong's whiskey in hand. Hongjoong nodded over to the chair and the manager bowed, taking a seat opposite him.

"Update me." Hongjoong took a sip of his drink. The manager began to update Hongjoong on the business.

"We have been thinking of letting our bartending apprentice go. He had been drinking on the job and getting drunk." He informed.

"Who?" Hongjoong leaned forward.

"This is his profile. The next page has some employee complaints and customer complaints that were logged." The manager informed, pulling up the ex employee's profile and handing it over to Hongjoong to look it over.

"I won't read this, let him go. I won't let anyone be caught lacking in my business. One complaint is as good as ten. Make him compensate for what alcohol he took." Hongjoong instructed.

"Of course, sir." The manager nodded, taking back the iPad and going through the other updates.

"Continue to manage necessary manpower and suppliers to the club. Revenue is still good." Hongjoong told him.

"I will. Thank you for giving me this responsibility, sir." The manager bowed from his seat.

"This is the list of VIPs coming. As usual, make sure they are well taken care of." Hongjoong slid over the list of VIP names and the dates that they would be coming.

"Of course." The manager folded the paper and put it in his pocket.

"You can go." With that, Hongjoong waved him off and he left. Hongjoong may seem cold and merciless but he treats his employees right, at least those that do their job well. He is a perfectionist and always wants the best, there shouldn't be anything that's lacking when it came to his business.

"Send Wooyoung and San for that private poker game. That's wheret they'll meet our informant." Hongjoong said to those that were in the group call.

"Oooh, I can get a new suit done." Wooyoung's focus and excitement was obviously on other things.

"What about the governor meeting that's coming up, hyung? Are you going with Seonghwa hyung?" Jongho asked.

"Seonghwa should go with Yunho. They know how to work the charm. Plus the governor's wife seems to favour Yunho." Hongjoong thought out loud, making the other laugh.

"No one can resist that face." Seonghwa chuckled.

"Yunho's ears just turned bright red." Yeosang informed and the others could hear Yunho's yell of protest in the background.

"Wait, what time is Seonghwa hyung and Hongjoong hyung settling the issue at the docks? I want to tag along, I could use some action. It'll be fun." Mingi asked.

"Oh! Me too! If Mingi's going, I want to go!" San agreed. Hongjoong could hear Seonghwa wanting to interject but it was ignored. Hongjoong and Seonghwa could never fight the younger ones, they were simply outnumbered.

"You guys always make a mess when you get involved... This time, call your own clean up crew." Seonghwa hissed.

"You gave in way too easily, Seonghwa ah." Hongjoong laughed and leaned back into his seat.

"I already have enough to think about. I have to pick my battles. Plus, if they can handle it for us, I won't risk getting blood on my new coat." Seonghwa said.

~

Series masterlist

[savvthedate]

Skz! Smalltown!AU

Plot; after getting kicked out of her old private school, Y/N is sent to live with the family of her mother's closest friend in her mother's hometown. As Y/N struggles to get used to her new life she meets several interesting people.

RELEASE; N/A

Characters

Chan - The hardworking boy nextdoor

• The son of Y/Ns mother's friend

• almost religiously devoted to his family's shop

• dreams to make it big as a music producer, until then he's stuck here

Lee know - Mayors' Son

• Rich douche bag (it's an act I swear stay with me now)

• his family's been in this town longer than anyone, and for some reason the last 3 mayors have been relatives

• honestly thinks this town doesn't do him any justice

• should be protecting his reputation (he doesn't give even half a damn)

Changbin - Manny McManface

• son of the local sheriff (don't know if this is a good thing or bad)

• brought up to be the best damn QB out there, but he ended up doing wrestling and spending most of his weekends with felix

• stress on 100, he's got expectations to meet and he doesn't know where to start

• sweetest person here (next to Felix)

• biggest protective older brother energy

Hyunjin - Vincent Van Hwang

• parents aren't really that big in town (there the local florist) but trust hyunjin is well known for the wrong things

• if he's not at school, he's either at his one of two jobs; delivery boy for his parents, or at his cashier job at the only fast food place in town (an off brand McDonald's called tastywing)

• working hard for his parents

• gets in the most trouble out of literally anyone in town (if it weren't for his parents relations with Sheriff Seo he'd honestly be screwed)

• people literally love his talent for art, but the majority hate him. You'll either hear "Van Gogh" or "Man go"

Han jisung - Local Loser

• working day and night like a dog at the local library just so he can afford a guitar

• aspiring rock star plays literally ever festival

• literally goes up to people hitting them with "you look like you got potential"

• always seems to be free

• doesn't get out much

Felix - That one guy

• the most likable person you'll ever meet, it's almost concerning

• part time model who's out of town often, but when he's there it's a sunny day

• has to work at tastywing just to make ends meet

• he's so sweet you couldn't even tell he's dated half the girls in town

Suengmin - dog washer

• lives alone (not really, his parents are always away)

• he either has nothing planned at all and just sits around or he's busy with the most random shit

• he works at a dog grooming place, but you swear you never see him there

• hardly works but is always dressed head to toe in designer

• has the biggest house in town, and with his schedule always doing something in said house

Jeongin - Pastor's Son

• His parents own the one church in town

• if you meet him on a Saturday you wouldn't even think he had a holy bone in his body, until you go to church that Sunday and hear him recite scriptures to the congregation

• if hyunjins not doing anything stupid, you can count on Jeongin to do something to keep it interesting

• do not be fooled at all, no matter how he acts trust and Believe he's never even been alone with a girl for more than five seconds, he just acts bold in front of others

[chiriwritesstuff]

Meet Me at the Farmers Market! - 1. Jealousy, Jealousy

Farmers Market! Joel Miller x Confident! Plus Sized F! Florist Reader

Series Masterlist

Series Summary: What does a Contractor do in his spare time? Sell his wood carvings at the Saturday Farmers Market, of course! A Grumpy x Sunshine Joel Miller series collective of one shots, Updates every Saturday!

Rating: M

Word Count: 1063

Warnings: Jealous! Joel Miller, Tommy is a meddling little shit, Reader likes to ogle her too-hot market neighbor (I mean, who wouldn't?!) no outbreak! Verse Joel Miller, everyone has asses that just. Don't. QUIT!!!!

Summary: Tommy thinks y'all should stop dancing around your feelings for each other and just date already.

A/N: Hello there!

This is completely a self-indulgent fic! I was completely blown away by all of the interest in this series, and I want to thank every single one of you who has liked and reblogged my series masterlist so far!

This isn't going to be in a linear format or have continuous chapters, but will be more of a short-story format between the lives of Joel and his Sunflower. Hope you all enjoy!

Divider by the lovely @saradika

"You know, I think you guys should date."

As Tommy helps you unload a basket of baby's breath from your van, you look at him and ask, "Is that right? Pray tell, Thomas Miller, Why do you think that?"

"Well, for starters, you're crazy about him," he replies, waggling his eyebrows. "I can see how you stare at him like he's the finest cut of meat at Whole Foods. I should get you a drip cloth for all that drooling you be doing," he chuckles, crossing his arms over his chest.

You roll your eyes and shove a bucket of single-stemmed roses into his chest. "Oh please. I think it's more concerning that you just compared your brother to a piece of meat," you say as you place a checkered tablecloth on your foldable table, preparing for the morning market.

"His head is definitely full of it," he laughs. "Besides, I think he's crazy for you too."

You laugh and reply, "All he does is complain that my tent is encroaching on his 'walk space' and how my bouquets attract all the bees. I don't think he's said one nice thing to me since I started vending at the market."

"Don't you know that the more you hate, the more you love?" he teases. "I know my brother," Tommy says, motioning towards your grumpy, yet attractive, next-door vendor. Joel, in his green flannel and almost too-tight jeans, it's criminal, really, how nice his ass looks in them - finally acknowledges the two of you with a roll of his eyes.

"Tommy," Joel yells across the way, "I could use some help, once you're done flirting with little miss Sunflower over there," he says, placing his crate on his table with a little more force, mumbling to himself as he calls for Sarah.

"See? He's jealous. Thinks I have the hots for you," Tommy appraises your form, whistling. "I might have mentioned how you looked really nice last week, you know, in your denim cut-offs. And he might have mentioned that you had an - and I quote - ass that just doesn't quit."

"He did not!" you reply as you playfully whack his arm with a towel. "Come on, help me with this sign so you can go back to Mr. Grumpy Butt over there. Wouldn't want him grumbling about how I stole his brother…"

"He's a big boy, he can manage. He only has those little critters that he carves, and you have buckets of flowers. I'd like to think that my services are better utilized here, don't you think? I mean, look at him!" Tommy motions to Joel, who has stopped setting up his stand and is openly glaring at the both of you, his hands clenched and knuckles turning white. "I'm doing you a favor, honey bee. He's just shy under all of that grumpy ass attitude. Just ask him out, see where it goes." Tommy crinkles his eyes at you as he pats you on your head.

You swear you see Joel looking at the both of you as Tommy winks at you and heads back to his 'Reclaiming Miller' stand.

"What kind of a business name is that?" you think to yourself, chuckling as you close the doors of your van.

Later, as the market comes to a close and you place the final empty bucket into your van, you walk over to Joel's 'Reclaiming Miller' stand as he folds a tablecloth.

"Do you need a hand?" you ask sweetly.

"I got it," he replies with a grunt, dismantling his fold-up table and propping it against his truck. "It's funny," he adds, glaring at you, "that Tommy is nowhere to be found when I need help but magically appears once your van rolls in," he shakes his head. "Why don't you put him out of his misery and just ask him out?"

"… sounds like you're jealous, Mr. 'Reclaiming Miller'."

"Trust me, I'm not," he replies, rolling up the sleeves of his flannel as he tries to accommodate the Texas heat. You try very hard not to ogle the veins that run down his arms, swallowing as you try to remain indifferent to the very hot, grumpy man in front of you. You had a crush on Joel ever since you started the Saturday markets, approaching your new neighbor with a small bonsai tree as you introduced yourself. He took it from your hands carefully, inspecting it with a bit of wonder in his eyes. "Your tent is three inches off from your marker, by the way," he replies as he places the bonsai off to the side of his display table. "You might want to get that checked out, don't want to get a fine or anything like that." You decide then that he's one of those vendors, the ones who are sticklers for the rules and complete nightmares to those around them, but yet…

He is rather nice to look at, you think.

"… why would I ask someone I'm not interested in out on a date, Joel?" you reply, approaching him. "I mean, he did tell me that you thought I had an 'ass that just doesn't quit'," you say in his ear, tiptoeing up to his broad form, "is that what you really think, Miller?" you tease, his Adam's apple bobbing. "What if I want to ask you out? What would you say? Would you say yes? Because I think I would like that if you did."

But then, to your surprise, he smiles.

"… I thought we already got past dating, Sunflower," he replies as he kisses you, soft and sweet. His hands grab your hips as you wrap your arms around his shoulders. His hands travel to your ass, squeezing them as he groans into your kiss.

"Besides," he adds, "You know damn well how much I appreciate this ass." He winks, slapping it for good measure.

“Yeah, yeah, Miller. I'll see you at my place later?” you say as you head over to your van. “It's your turn to choose the movie tonight, if it's a good one you might just get laid” you tease.

“Oh baby girl, I'll get mine regardless, don't you worry,” he replies hungrily, waving as he enters his truck. “You just wear that thing I like, and I'll make it worth your while, promise.”

“You better!”

[strangersatellites]

happy valentine’s day steddie nation! have some lumax & steddie shenanigans as a treat! i love you all! 🫶🏼

February 11th, 1987

It’s not that she’s particularly interested in watching E.T. again. It's more so the fact that the back of the VHS box has enough words that she can pretend to read it for an extended period of time without looking suspicious. 

See, Max is a planner. She plans. Plots might actually be a better word. Perhaps even schemes.

Whatever. She plans. 

When the time is right, she executes. 

Luckily, Lucas is good for two (2) things. 

Anything and everything Max asks of him

Causing problems on purpose

That’s how she finds herself here. Pretending to read the back of a movie she’s seen at least ten times while she acts like she’s not able to hear the conversation happening at the Family Video counter.

“Oh come on! It’s for Valentine’s Day!”

Steve stops whatever he’s trying to do on the tv and props a hand on his hip while he levels Lucas with a look.

“What makes you think I don’t have plans already, Sinclair? Huh? I could have my own date to plan for all you know.”

Lucas snorts. “Yeah, right. Please, Steve? I already told Max you said yes so she’s expecting it to be a whole thing! I’ll ask Eddie to drop us off and everything! Plus, my mom said we can only have a date if you chaperone and no offense, but I’m not taking you to a restaurant.”

“Well maybe we need to practice honesty in our relationships,” Steve says, pointing the tv remote at him. “You’re lucky Max is my favorite, or else you would’ve been in deep shit. Now what did you tell her I was cooking?”

Max has to hide a giggle behind the horror movie display at the way Lucas visibly sags in relief. He throws her a wink when Steve turns back to the screen. 

*****

February 12th, 1987

Finding the money is easy. 

It’s not Max’s fault Eddie is an absolute idiot and leaves his wallet in his unlocked van during Hellfire. 

The man is just asking to be a victim of petty theft.

Plus, she doubts he even pays enough attention to the amount of money he has in there anyway. He probably won’t even know it's gone. 

Picking the flowers out wasn’t difficult either. 

Steve’s favorite flowers are tulips, and under any other circumstances they would be the obvious choice. But everyone knows a dozen red roses means true love. 

And it's Valentine’s Day. Come on.

The florist had watched the pair look at all the flowers with a twinkle in her eye. No doubt she thought Lucas was buying them for Max. 

Gross.

Convincing her that they needed them delivered to Family Video on Valentine’s Day was a little trickier.

“No they’re not for me, ew.” and “They’re for a friend.” and “Yes, we know it's last minute.”

But arguably the most difficult part had been choosing what to put on the card. 

They’re sitting on the sidewalk outside the arcade writing and crossing out and writing again while everyone else is inside.

“Lucas, are you kidding me? We can’t just say Happy Valentine’s Day. That’s so lame.”

He throws his hands up in an exasperated gesture. “Well what else? We can’t be all ‘roses are red, violets are blue, I’m a big dumb idiot who won’t make a move.’”

Max snorts a laugh and gives him a conspiratory smile before she starts writing on the back of a receipt.

“No. But you know what we can do?”

*****

February 13th, 1987

“I don’t know… this feels a little risky.”

Max swats at Lucas’s bicep and glares. 

“Just trust me. All we have to do is get Eddie there and his own desperate need to be nosy will do the rest.”

Lucas takes a deep breath in and accepts his fate. “If this doesn’t work it's your fault.”

She just rolls her eyes and shoves him up and off the couch. 

They’re in the Wheeler’s basement finishing up yesterday’s campaign so they can all have Valentine’s day to do their own thing. Eddie called for a ten minute break after Mike and Dustin had to very nearly be physically held back during an argument about what move they should make next. 

He’s propped on the arm of his chair and writing something in a little notebook when Lucas approaches. 

“Uh hey, Eddie? Can I ask you something?”

The older boy raises his eyes up to meet Lucas’s and squints at him.

“Roll for charisma.”

Now it's Lucas’s turn to roll his eyes. “Are you serious?”

Eddie breaks into a bright smile and settles into his seat with a laugh. “Nah, man. What’s up, Sinclair?”

“Are you busy tomorrow? Do you have any plans for Valentine’s Day I mean?”

Eddie’s brows furrow and he tilts his head a bit. “No way, dude. I’ll be sitting at home with a movie and a bowl of Wayne’s spaghetti if the past is any indication of how my day will play out. Besides, you know how I feel about all that shit.”

Max squints from her place on the couch braiding El’s hair. She does know how he feels about all that shit. She heard him telling Robin alllllllll about how he wanted to have a real Valentine’s Day date one day. 

She’s grateful at this moment that he’s publicly sticking to his guns. No “forced conformity” in sight.

That would’ve ruined the plan.

“Perfect!” Lucas claps.

Max cringes but he recovers.

“Uh, I mean– I mean that’s perfect for me then! I was going to ask if you could come pick me up from Steve’s tomorrow. He told me he’d let me go through his closet and pick out something to wear.” He looks down and picks at a string on his jacket and Max has to hand it to him. His acting skills are pretty impressive. “I’m taking Max on a real date tomorrow.”

Eddie’s face softens and he cuts the shit with his false bravado almost instantly.

“That’s sweet, man. But why can’t Harrington drive you to Max’s exactly?”

And shit.

Max didn’t think Eddie would question him. Not with the way he drives them places all the time. 

Then again so does Steve. So maybe that was a bit of an oversight.

But Lucas takes it in stride. “Oh he said something about cooking for his own date when I leave.”

Max might be a bit more worried about Lucas’s ability to lie off the cuff if she weren’t so impressed.

Eddie just nods. “Sure, kiddo. I’ll be there at 7 o’clock sharp.”

Easy.

Now they wait.

*****

February 14th, 1987

Max is sitting on the counter swinging her feet while Steve and Robin bicker back and forth about what order the new display movies should go in.

It’s ten minutes before six and she’s starting to get nervous.

Her inner monologue is screaming, “I knew she would forget to deliver them.”

Just about the time she’s going to ask to use Keith’s phone to call Lucas, the florist van pulls up.

Steve furrows his brow and looks at Robin. She just raises her shoulders and shakes her head. He opens the door and leans against it.

A young girl hops out of the passenger seat with the prettiest bouquet of red roses Max has ever seen. She has to bite back her own smile. 

“Hi!” The girl greets while rustling through the leaves to find the card. “Delivery for uh– Stevie?”

Robin snorts and slaps a hand over her mouth.

Steve runs a hand through his hair and stutters out a “I’ll just get those. Yeah– yeah thanks. Have a good one,” and comes back inside.

Max puts on her game face when he puts them on the counter and steps back with his hands on his hips. 

Robin has propped her chin in her hands and is looking on with barely concealed glee.

Max levels him with a bored look. “So… What does the card say?”

He reaches for the card and reads it quietly to himself. If Max isn’t mistaken, his cheeks are dusted with a pink flush.

He smiles and laughs. “They’re from Eds.”

Eds? Gross.

“Dear Stevie, something happened and I'm head over heels. Happy Valentine’s Day. Love, Eddie.”

Robin mimes being struck by Cupid and Steve giggles at her antics and thumbs over the petals of one of the flowers with a soft smile.

Before Max can unpack that, the door bursts open so hard the bell swings into the glass with a clang.

Steve’s head snaps to the door with a “LUCAS!” already ringing out through the store.

He holds his hands up in a placating gesture and catches his breath.

“Sorry! Sorry! Max, you ready to go?”

And, oh. Right. 

She hops off the counter and grabs her bag. Spins around to Robin and Steve with a smile.

She leans in to whisper, “We’re going somewhere on a date tonight. He thinks I don’t know.”

Robin bites back another smile and salutes Lucas while Steve laughs under his breath and grabs his own keys and the vase off the counter.

“Have fun kiddos! Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” Robin calls out as they take off out the door.

*****

As riveting as the idea of hiding in a bush and watching Steve cook and sing to himself for an hour sounds, in practice it is painfully boring.

“Seriously? We couldn’t have just gone to the arcade until 7 o’clock?” Lucas angry-whispers.

Max adjusts her elbows on her knees so her binoculars are steadier.

“No. We need to be here to make sure everything goes to plan.”

Lucas groans and Max gives him an aggressive shush.

“Steve already liked the flowers and he double checked with me yesterday that you still wanted his homemade pizza. Literally all Eddie has to do is show up and take the bait.”

Now it’s Max who’s groaning. “Ugh, I don’t know, okay! But it's like five minutes ‘til seven anyway so it doesn’t matter.”

It’s just when they see Steve set the plates on either side of the bouquet on the table that they hear the sound of Eddie’s van turning into the driveway.

They both inhale sharply and duck further behind the bushes. 

When Eddie climbs out he looks… nice.

Nice for Eddie at least. 

There’s no chains, no dirty sneakers. Instead there’s a black button up and his nice boots. He’s got his hair half pulled up and all of his earrings in.

Max and Lucas share a bewildered look. Surely he didn’t lie about not having plans tonight, right?

Realistically the two know they’re too far away to hear or be heard but that doesn’t stop them from holding their breath as Eddie knocks on the door.

Steve opens it with a towel slung over his shoulder. He’s dressed the part too. Dark jeans and a dark red sweater, looking exactly like a parent chaperoning a kid’s date.

His smile is bright as he opens the door and gestures for Eddie to come inside. 

They stand beside the foyer window and chat while the two look on through binoculars with bated breath. 

“Surely Eddie’s noticed I’m not there by now, right?” Lucas questions.

Max hums and nods. “Yeah and I’m guessing that Steve has realized Eddie isn’t dropping us off either.”

The two boys throw their heads back in what they can only assume to be hearty laughter from their lack of sound. Steve nods his head towards the kitchen and Eddie gestures for him to lead the way.

“It worked! Max! It actually worked! He’s staying!”

Steve pulls out Eddie’s chair and lights the candles; dims the lights, and takes his own seat.

Max just laughs. “Of course it worked. They’ve been into each other for months! They’re both just too stupid to notice it without a little push!”

They look on in silence as Steve has magically procured a bottle of wine and two glasses and is filling them while they talk.

Lucas smiles and nudges Max with his shoulder. “Dude. Best Valentine’s Day ever.”

She smiles back and punches his arm. “Yeah. Best one ever.”

*****

Meanwhile in the Harrington House

“So, should we tell them?”

Eddie snorts. “Tell them what? That we knew they were trying to set us up or that we’ve been together for four months?”

Now it’s Steve who’s laughing. “I was thinking more about the fact that we can see them in the bushes.”

“Nah. I want to keep that one until I need to sandbag them for something.”

Steve shakes his head and looks at the table.

Eddie grabs his hand and lowers his voice to a whisper. “Hey.”

Steve looks up and meets his eyes, gets a little lost in the way they sparkle in the candlelight.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, baby.”

He lifts Eddie’s hand and presses a soft kiss to his knuckles, the new devil ring Steve gave him before he left this morning.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Eds.”

Maybe if Max and Lucas had looked a little closer, they would have noticed that the plates on the table didn’t have homemade pizza, they had spaghetti.

That the bouquet on the table wasn’t a dozen roses.

It was tulips.

[softbeebee]

Some elliedina (ellie x dina) headcanons I have thought about (the last of us 2 / tlou2) |

Dina is usually the little spoon, but Ellie sometimes wants to and embraces being the small spoon and lets her. This usually helps Ellie to fall asleep on nights she may be struggling to sleep.

Ellie is so shy in giving pda, so they have minimum pda usually unless Ellie is really wanting to do it more often.

Dina listens to Ellie talk and ramble for ages about space/dinosaurs/comics/etc. She will listen all the way.

Ellie (adhd + autistic) girlfriend and Dina (adhd) girlfriend who is more organised and on schedule, just the truth.

Dina is always early or on time, Ellie is always late even by a few minutes

Ellie learnt how to slow dance originally from Dina for Cat mainly before the two got together, though Ellie never danced with Cat because by then their relationship was over.

Ellie denies she has a type, but she does and Dina is the cleanest painting of her type.

Ellie adores being complimented by Dina despite how flustered it makes her, her favourites are being called handsome, hot stuff, pretty, and Dina being the luckiest to have her.

Favourite dates for them are movie nights, art nights, game nights, or dinner together.

If they lived in the modern world, without the outbreak Ellie would be a tattoo artist and Dina more than likely a florist or nurse.

Jesse years before they got together had tried to set them. He always knew about at least ellies crush on Dina, ultimate wingman.

Dina hobbies would be dancing, baking, cooking, exploring, games, and gardening for sure.

Ellie secretly tries to bake things for Dina, but most times, it's nearly sets the house of fire.

Ellie would be considered the nerd in the relationship, but Dina is secretly a massive one as well.

Modern day wise, these two would love Yellowjackets for sure, Dina's favourite characters would be Van, Taissa, and Jackie. Ellie's favourites are Shauna, Jackie, Van, and Lottie.

[newtonsheffield]

Anthony Bridgerton and Kate Sharma in take a deep breath and jump (then fall) by newtonsheffield (Moomin_94)

Anthony sighed as he sat on the curb outside his shop, just like always, his coffee in hand stretching his back out. He heard the engine before he saw it and lifted his head as the small van pulled to the curb. A woman got out from behind the wheel her curly hair bouncing as the skirt of her dress twirled around her a little and Anthony’s stomach dropped. Just the tiniest bit as her eyes fell on him.

Her brow furrowed as she stepped forward, her voice smooth, “Are you alright, sir?”

He looked behind him, half expecting to see someone behind him but there was no one there. He stood, smoothing back his hair and lifting his sunglasses, “Yeah, are you? No offence but girls like you are usually pretty fucking lost at a tattoo parlour.”

The woman who’d gotten out behind her laughed, leaning against the side of the van but the woman in front of him raised her eyebrow, her eyes travelling down to the hand he’d wiped against his leather pants and held out to her, “I’m not lost. We just leased the shop front next door.” She pointed at it, “We’re florists.”

She took his hand and he felt the swoop in his stomach again as their skin met, her smooth skin looking a little odd next to his, covered in ink. “I’m Anthony.”

“Kate.” She said, stepping back towards the shop front, “Don’t worry, I’ll stay out of your way. And I don’t think I need to worry about you getting lost my way. You don’t strike me as the sort of guy who buys a lot of flowers.”

He stared at her, as she walked away, watching the sway of her hips and the swish of her hair as the scent of her perfume hung in the air around him. She was exactly the sort of girl he usually stayed away from when he saw them in pubs. Girls who knew what they wanted, and weren’t willing to settle for anything less. But all he wanted, every time he saw her in the next month, was to throw her off her game. So when he saw it open one morning, his head still pounding a little, wearing yesterday’s outfit he went in, winking at her as he ordered flowers for the woman whose bed he’d just left. He watched with a little satisfaction as she disgustedly pushed his phone back towards him with her pen when he couldn’t remember the woman’s name and had to show her the contact, delicately cleaning the pen with a sanitising re she carried on.

“Do you think Miss BigTits will be very offended if I leave off her last name on the envelope?”

He could tell it offended her, that he didn’t care what the flowers were and he couldn’t remember the woman’s name that he’d spent the night with and part of him enjoyed the way it rankled her, the snide little remarks she tossed at him, so he kept going back. Every time a different woman. He Kept needling at her. Until it was all he thought about. Until he woke up thinking about her and went to bed thinking about her and all he wanted was to reach forward and tug her against his chest and let his teeth bite at her neck as their hips rocked together.

But fuck him, she’s the last person he wants to see sitting in the corner of the pub that night, a little tipsy already as she calls him over to her.

“Why are men so fucking awful?”

“I’m sorry?”

“The guy I went out with.” Kate sighed, gesturing for the bartender to pour Anthony a pint and two shots. “You need to catch up to me. The guy I’ve been talking to, or like one of them, we went out and he asked me if I’d be open to having a threesome.”

Anthony’s stomach lurched, “well, I guess maybe he-”

“With my sister.”

“Ooof.” Anthony said, downing his drink, “yeah That’s fucking bad.”

“I just- I want to meet someone, I want to fall in love! My parents are so in love and I want that and I don’t think I should feel bad for trying to get it.”

Anthony nodded, her wide eyes catching his until he had to look away from her, his chest tight. “You shouldn’t.”

“But I like sex too! Men are just such… fucking arseholes about it!”

And he knew he shouldn’t have said it, but he couldn’t help himself, with her leg brushing his and her fucking perfume hanging in the air and her hair brushing his chest. “Well, I’m not what you’re looking for but we can fuck if you like. Promise I won’t be an arsehole about it.”

And when he walks into her shop the next morning, with the marks from her fingernails burned into his back and the taste of her still on his tongue he knows what a mistake he’s made when she snaps at him the second he walked in

“No! You are not permitted to buy flowers here today!”

Because he still can’t stop thinking about her.

For @jeanvanjer

[athena-writes-i-guess]

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

Prompt: “It may not be much but…”

A/N: Happy Valentine’s Day! I hope you’re having a great day and maybe this little fic will put a smile on your face ❤️ I love you! Will you be my Valentine? (Please ignore my first ever attempt at a collage I made in 5 min)

“Sorry buddy, we’re all out. It’s 5pm on Valentine’s Day after all.” The florist said through the receiver.

Eddie felt his heart drop, “Okay, yeah, thank you so much for checking.” He responded before hanging up the phone. He rubbed his face and eyes anxiously as he groaned loudly, trying to wrack his brain for anything that he could do to save the night.

Tonight was Valentine’s Day, your first one as a couple after almost a year of being together and Eddie had planned so much for you; he got you your favorite candy from Indianapolis, driving there and back while you were out with your friends one night. He got you flowers from the local florist, pretty red roses, and a giant stuffed bear that took up the entire bench seat in the back of his van, all of which he was going to give you on your way to Enzo’s for a nice dinner. He had saved up his money for weeks, making as many extra sales as he could so he could make this a special night for you. But everything that could go wrong did.

He had gone to the grocery store to get a few last minute things for the two of you for later tonight and had decided that since he would only be in there for a few minutes, it would be no issue to park in a no parking zone as it was close to the door. He would be quick! He just hadn’t anticipated there would be so many people there today also getting last minute items for the night and by the time he finally got out of the store he froze just outside of the door as he watched his van, with every gift he had gotten for you in it, be towed away.

He quickly ran to the nearest pay phone and called the trailer in hopes that Wayne would be there. Lucky enough, he was, answering just before the last ring with a little, “Hello, Munson residence.” Eddie had explained everything to him, ending with Wayne agreeing to come pick him up and get him to the tow company to get his van back. But that’s where the luck ran out as Eddie could not remember which company it was, and by the time they made it to the right one and could see his baby trapped behind the gate, the shop was closed for the rest of the night. Now Eddie had no ride, no gifts, and no idea how he would explain everything to you.

“Fuck!” Eddie groaned loudly, looking at the clock and seeing that now on top of everything he was going to be late for your dinner too.

“Hey, boy, calm down now.” Wayne soothed, placing a comforting hand on Eddie’s shoulder. “It’s gonna be alright, you know Y/N wont care if you show up with nothin’ but a smile.”

“But I wanted it to be special.” Eddie sighed, his brown eyes sad as he looked to his uncle.

“And it will be, because you two are together.” Wayne said, a small smile pulling at the corner of his lips. “You could always do what I did when I couldn’t afford flowers.” Eddie’s head tilted curiously. “Well, I couldn’t afford all those fancy real flowers and they died anyway, what’s the point? So I just went to the general store and got some of those fake silk flowers. They look nice and they never die.”

Eddie thought on that for a moment, before a small smile broke on his face, “Can I borrow your car?”

“Go on boy.” Wayne said, patting Eddie encouragingly.

“Thanks Uncle Wayne.” Eddie sighed in relief.

~

You adjusted your sweater as you checked your outfit in the mirror for the 3rd time that night, nervous excitement coursing through you as you waited for your boyfriend to arrive. You beamed as you heard a knock on the door to your apartment and scurried to the living room to yank open the door. Eddie stood there with his arm tucked behind his back looking a little disheveled, as a large, adoring, smile brightened his face. “Hey sweetheart, you look so beautiful.”

“Thank you, handsome.” You flushed, welcoming him in. He walked in after you, his arm still behind him as he kept whatever he was hiding out of your sight.

“I wanted to start by saying that I had so much planned for tonight but the universe decided to fuck me over today.” He chuckled with a disbelieving shake of his head at everything that went wrong. “I‘ll explain more later, but even though I don’t have everything that I wanted to give you today, I do have these.” He said, pulling out a bouquet of multicolored silk roses in your favorite colors. “It may not be much right now, sweetheart, but I wanted you to know that I will love you until these die.” He smiled, a small blush coloring his cheeks as he watched a love-sick smile pull at your lips.

“I love them so much Eddie!” You gasped out as you took the bouquet, “Thank you so much pretty boy!” You exclaimed as you threw your arms around his neck and pulled him into you. “You know you didn’t have to get me anything Eds!”

“I know, I wanted to baby. Happy Valentine’s Day sweetness.” Eddie beamed, nudging your nose playfully with his.

“Happy Valentine’s Day Eddie.” You giggled back just as Eddie quickly captured your lips in a searing kiss.

Taglist: @srapalestina @yvonneeeee @aroseinvelaris @anaisweird @mrslovesmayahawke @harrys-tittie @becca-alexa @catacina

[abstractnaturaldisaster]

Steddie Flower Shop / Tattoo Parlour AU

I literally just finished my first fic ever and I’ve already started on my next. The Steddie brainrot is real. I low key became obsessed with the idea of Eddie accidentally becoming a florist after high school after this tik tok: https://www.tiktok.com/@wbznewsradio/video/7195608049468312874

The idea isn’t original and there’s probably already a bunch of these AUs but I couldn’t help but through my hat in the ring! Enjoy the beginnings -- I’m working on a longer fic (maybe a valentine’s day plot?)

Also available on AO3!

                                                          ***

Eddie hadn’t meant to become a florist. He’d taken the gig originally as a part time delivery boy in exchange for using said delivery van when his high school band had a show and whatever tips he got. Five years and a high school diploma later, Eddie had ended up running the shop when the original owners, the De Lucas, were getting too old to manage on their own. Another five years and Mr. and Mrs. De Luca had retired and given Eddie the shop so they could move somewhere warmer. Eddie didn’t blame them. Chicago winters were almost unbearable even as a twenty-something. 

If anyone asked, Eddie wouldn’t say he loved his job but he did love the De Lucas and owning a flower shop was a little better than your standard nine to five. Eddie certainly hadn’t dreamed of being a florist. He’d spent high school dreaming of making it big in the metal scene but after high school his bandmates had started becoming productive members of society and coupled with the early mornings at the flower market his rockstar days had slowed considerably. Every once in a while the gang would get together and practice or play a gig for old times sake but corralling Corroded Coffin’s busy schedules got complicated. Eddie still kept up appearances and resolutely dressed like a metalhead even when 4 am meant waking up to barter with Mr. Lee instead of getting home from a gig. He continued to show off his stick and poke tattoos and the closest thing he got to a uniform was band tees and ripped jeans. De Lucas’ Flowers wasn’t in the snazziest neighborhood in Chicago but was starting to get more expensive as more people flooded into the city. Eddie was eternally grateful that the small flower shop included an equally small apartment directly above the stall. 

Eddie had taken after the original owners and kept his staff fairly small. After the De Lucases well and truly retired, Eddie had hired Chrissy Cunningham to manage the books and keep the lights on. Chrissy was an old high school acquaintance who was looking for a job to pay the bills while she wrote the next great american novel. They had run in different circles in high school but had bonded when Chrissy had shown up to one of Eddie’s shows at the Hideout. It turned out Chrissy had decent taste in music even though she spent most of her time with the other cheerleaders and their jock boyfriends who thought Journey was hard rock. Luckily for Eddie this also meant that he didn’t have to change the shop’s soundtrack when Chrissy started working. Metal wasn’t usually what people associated with flower shops but Eddie got most of his orders over the phone or online so it didn’t detract from their client base. He still did most of the deliveries in the old De Lucas’ Flowers van that he had driven in high school even though it was definitely nearing the end of its life. Eddie put more work into keeping the van rolling than he did most of his past relationships and wasn’t ready to give up on the old girl just yet.

“If I have to explain to a winter bride one more time that peonies and dahlias are summer flowers, I am quitting, Chrissy,” Eddie said as he came barreling down the stairs from his apartment.

“Eddie, why don’t you just let me take bridal orders?” Chrissy reasoned.

“Because, Chrissy, last time we did that you didn’t realize there was a difference between a king and queen protea and almost lost us a client.”

“Hey! I’ve been practicing. I made flashcards!” Chrissy pulled out a stack of index cards with colorful printouts of flowers on one side and their common and scientific names on the back.

“And I appreciate it. But I think your talents lie with cooking the books,” Eddie joked.

“Don’t say shit like that. One day someone will overhear you and think we’re money launderers,” Chrissy was kidding but Eddie’s general vibe didn’t always inspire confidence that the flower shop was indeed just a flower shop.

“That’s why I have you, babe,” Eddie said as he blew a kiss Chrissy’s way.

“Gross.”

“Rude, Cunningham.”

Eddie found a hair tie nestled between his garden shears and pulled his hair into a messy bun to get started on the day’s orders.

“Did you see that place across the street got rented out?” Chrissy asked as Eddie was putting the finishing touches on an apology bouquet for what had to be one hell of a mistake.

“Ew. New neighbors. Any idea what it’s gonna be?” Eddie scoffed.

“No clue. Just saw they took down the for lease sign yesterday,” Chrissy added.

“Boo. I liked our quiet street.”

“I don’t think anyone would call this street quiet what with the racket you put on the radio,” Chrissy chided.

Eddie didn’t respond except to turn up the speaker a couple notches.

After finishing up the morning’s orders, Eddie started loading the van to go on his delivery route. It was pretty formulaic, a few big skyscraper lobbies nearby, some office deliveries, and the big apology bouquet that was going to a house in Lakeview. Out of the corner of his eye he caught two people carrying a comically large velvet couch into the empty space across the street.

“Chrissy,” Eddie groaned. “It’s going to be one of those fucking hipster places. They have a pretentious couch.”

“You can’t possibly know what kind of place it’ll be from one furniture piece,” Chrissy shot back.

“Look outside, Chris.”

Chrissy went over to the shop window as the giant green monstrosity was being lifted onto the stoop of the building across the way.

“Okay, fine. That’s an asshole couch,” Chrissy agreed.

“See! We’re going to have to move. The neighborhood is going to hell.”

Chrissy shooed Eddie out to start his deliveries. Eddie flipped her off as he made his way to the driver’s side of the van. He looked back over to the shop across the street and scoffed again. At least whatever hipster nonsense was moving in across the way had picked a moving guy with a hot ass.

Eddie settled into the monotony of his deliveries and the familiarity of his Dio cassette and mostly put the new neighbors out of his mind. He gave them six months before the new business moved out.

Part Two

[got-into-worm-by-mistake]

Agitation 3.2 Live Reactions

(This is me, writing reactions as I read, because why the fuck not. They're not complete, mature thoughts taken after I sit back and evaluate what I've read. Consider them as such)

I was pleasantly surprised to find that the bus line that ended at the old ferry put me only a fifteen or twenty minute walk away from the loft that Lisa, Alec and Bitch called home.  I could be spending a fair bit of time there before I gathered enough information or earned enough trust from them to turn them in to the authorities, so the convenience was nice.

Convenience is very nice when scheming betrayal

 Tourists were already crowding the railings or migrating to the beach,

Tourists? In My Brockton Bay? It's More Likely* Than You Think?

*More Likely meaning 'any at all' bc wtf? Who would want to visit America's largest open air insane asylum? :P

I knew the tattoo on the arm of the guy lifting boxes into the florist’s van that read ‘Erase, Extinguish, Eradicate’ meant the guy was a white supremacist because it had the letter E repeated three times.

I mean, anyone with that kind of tattoo is either a fan of a knockoff version of 40k or a white supremacist, even if the local neo-nazis didn't have a triple E name.

Any of the store owners or employees could call the likes of Miss Militia, Armsmaster or Triumph in, given a minute. 

Given how many issues the city has, I'm not sure it's that simple.

I headed off the boardwalk and into one of the alleys leading into the Docks.  Glancing over my shoulder, I saw one of the uniformed enforcers staring at me.  I wondered what he was thinking.  Good kids didn’t hang out in the Docks, and I doubted I looked the part of a guileless tourist. The abandoned factories, warehouses and garages of the Docks all blended into one another very quickly.

So the shitty part of town is right next to the big tourist zone. Seems... ill thought out. Also reminds me of that line from Buffy where Cordelia says that the bad part of Sunnydale is right next to the good part, because "we don't have a whole lot of town here" but Brockton Bay is supposed to be bigger than Sunnydale.

...

Fic Idea: Brockton Bay gets a Hellmouth.

:rofl:

(I wonder how Taylor would fare against Buffyverse vampires? Vamps can feel pain, so a bunch of biting insects would still be a distraction, but...)

“Hey,” he said, “Lisa said you’d arrived.  I thought you had school.”

Normal Protagonists: "Don't Do Drugs, And Stay In School."

Skitter: "Drop out of School. Drugs are Fantastic." (So curious what the context for that second line is. No one tell me.)

As it turned out, it was less of a ‘sparring’ session than an attempt on Brian’s part to give a less than fully committed Alec some basic lessons on hand to hand fighting.

Is Alec capable of taking anything seriously, I wonder?

He wasn’t big in the sense of a bodybuilder or someone who exercised just to pack on muscle like you saw with some of the people just out of prison.  It was a little more streamlined than that.  You could see the raised line of a vein running down his bicep, and the definition of his chest showed through his shirt.

So lithe prettyboy?

“Well fuck this then,” Alec said, “If you’re going to go easy on me and still kick my ass, I don’t see the point.” “You should learn how to fight,” Brian said. “I’ll do like I have been and bring my taser,” was Alec’s response, “one poke and they’re out cold.  Better than any punch.”

On the one hand, you can always lose your taser. On the other hand, given the kinds of people Alec is likely to go up against, if he loses his taser, he's probably doomed either way.

“Okay, now you’re going to do two things different.  Step into the jab so you’ve got your body’s momentum behind the hit, on top of your arm’s power.  Second, I want your left arm up as you’re jabbing with your right, and vice versa.  If I see the chance, I’m going to pop you one on the shoulder or ribs, so be ready to fend me off.”

I know people for whom these sorts of scenes are absolutely shipper candy.

“How is that a ball?” I asked, raising my own foot to point at the vaguely spherical part of the foot where the ankle met the ground, “this is the only part that looks ball-like.”

She's not wrong.

“Ehhh,” he hedged, “Some.  My dad was a boxer when he was in the service, and he taught me some when I was little.  I moved on to other stuff on my own – Karate, Tae Kwon Do, Krav Maga – but nothing really held my interest.  I only took a few weeks or a month of classes for each.  I know enough and keep in shape, which is enough to hold my own against anyone who isn’t a black belt in whatever, which is the important thing, I think.  Keeping up with the more serious martial artists is a full time job, and you’re still going to run into people who are better than you, so I don’t see the point in stressing too much over it.”

I suppose I understand that. Besides, if Brian ends up against a Brute, no amount of training will matter. That's sort of how the Wormverse works, right? Batman, as he exists in DC, wouldn't work in Worm. (Granted, make Batman a Thinker or a Tinker and he's golden again, but as written, with technically no superpowers...)

Lisa’s voice just behind me startled me, “This.  Pull up your socks, boys and girl, because we’re robbing a bank.”

BANK ARC BANK ARC BANK ARC

[oreramar]

Florist Talk: Deliveries

Time to talk about what happens when flowers leave the shop! As always, I'm talking from the anecdotal perspective of someone working in a small US flower shop. This is going to be especially important for this one because the place I work at has some Delivery Rules that I know for a fact aren't - maybe can't be - universal, especially if you get into bigger cities.

For writing purposes, take inspiration from any bits of this that could be interesting for whatever plot you're writing out, and change others as makes sense or is properly narrative.

So, first of all - is your Florbo going to be running deliveries at all?

I do, because it's a small shop and we don't have a dedicated delivery driver. I design flowers and also drive them places, except on very very very busy days when we get other people in just to drive, like Valentine's and Mother's Day.

If you're writing a bigger shop in a bigger city, or even a small one with more dedicated roles, a flower design Florbo might not drive deliveries unless it's very needed, for whatever reason. Even so, you could have another character of some importance be the dedicated driver anyhow, or you might just vaguely need or want the opening to a scene be the driver coming back complaining about something that happened on the run, so this still might be useful.

So here's roughly what happens when Flower Deliveries go out:

Deliveries get sorted by Most Efficient Route. If a delivery address is unknown it can be looked up on a map. Maybe someone uses GPS to navigate. Maybe the Flower System being used can map a route for you automatically. Maybe it's all done in the driver's head because they know the area really well by now.

Flowers (and other things like balloons, etc) get put into the back of the Flower Delivery Van. There are holders back there to keep things in place en route. These holders can vary from foam inserts in plastic trays, with circular shapes in various sizes cut out of them, to wood boxes with more various circular shapes cut out of the top, to styrofoam trays with various openings to, heck it, some of those heavy cinderblock bricks with cloth or foam lining the inside so glass vases don't chip on the edges on turns.

Broadly speaking, these measures will mostly be effective. Sometimes the fit is loose, though, and a change in direction or speed is too sharp, and the driver will hear something rustle, thump, and start to trickle water. That is never a good sound.

Some vases fit the holders better than others. The ideal is a good snug fit that doesn't allow wobble, let alone clank-clank-clank on every turn or bump.

Deliveries tend to have matching delivery slips that are kept up front by the driver and are used to remind driver of addresses and to check things off as they're done. Personal anecdote: it's the norm at my workplace to write the time of delivery on the slip when it's done, so that if anyone calls later and asks if/when it was delivered we can give that info.

Here's where stuff is gonna vary: the rule at my place is that the delivery goes to the door of the house, and if no one answers, it cannot be left there. If no one answers the door, we call the recipient's phone number off the slip, assuming we got it. If we get an answer there, we ask if there's a better time to deliver these flowers, or another place within town - sometimes someone's at work and can receive them there, or they're out until a certain point and we'll return then.

If no one answers the phone, or if we don't have their number, we call the person who ordered the thing, and tell them what's up and ask if they have a way to get hold of the person the flowers are for. Sometimes it's a yes, and we get the info asked for above. Sometimes they also fail.

Sometimes voicemails must be left, with the store's phone number given and a request to arrange a better delivery time. Sometimes the voicemail box is full or has not been set up yet and we just gotta try again later.

The flowers are never left, only messages. They go back to the store if they must. They are stored in the cooler for the next day if they really must. They are remade a week later if they really really must (sometimes people go on vacation out of town right when someone they know, who doesn't know about the vacation, decides to send them birthday flowers or something).

This rule is definitely not universal. I've sent flowers other places and been told how they were just left on the front step and were found by accident as the recipient didn't ever hear a doorbell or knock or get a phone call like the website said they would upon delivery.

Businesses tend to be easier to deliver stuff to than houses. At the very least you've generally got some kind of front desk or counter to leave the things at.

Other little notes on delivering stuff:

If in a cold season and place, like sub-freezing cold, flowers must be put into plastic bags which are taped or stapled or tied shut before they go outside. This traps just enough warm air around the flowers to keep them from freezing between building and vehicle and building. There is a fine line between "cooler which keeps flowers fresh longer" and "freezing air that will give flowers frostbite so that they look nice until they thaw at which point they go to hell immediately."

Sometimes someone is sent flowers from someone they don't want flowers from. I have been told that, as flower shop, we have to complete the delivery. We can't take them back. What happens to them after they're out of our hands is, well, out of our hands, but we gotta be able to honestly tell the customer, if asked, that we did indeed successfully deliver the flowers. That being said, write what you will.

Delivering balloons on a windy day is hell. I haven't lost one to the wind yet - knots and strings tend to be pretty sturdy and I keep a good grip on them - but they will batter you all around the head as you try to walk with them, and if there are multiple they will tangle the strings together.

A delivery driver of any type probably knows the general area pretty damn well. Even if they don't know exactly where XYZ street is, chances are they know the general direction where it should be.

A florist driver probably knows by heart the location of and routes to nearby/local hospitals, clinics, funeral chapels, schools, and quite possibly churches.

Sometimes you get to meet one or more Very Good Dogs on a delivery and it is the highlight of your day.

[igot-the-juice]

The Scarred - Chapter 12 🩸

Masterlist

Summary - Penelope Miller works at a florist shop in Gotham, barely getting by in the corrupted city. Her life is shrouded by trauma and judgement with little light to find her way with. However, when a certain painted face starts making himself known to her, things take a turn.

“Penelope…” Her name invaded her sleep, mingling with her dream in a way that didn’t make sense. “Penelope?” It continued. “Penelope!” Her head began to stir. 

“Penelope!” She jolted awake to the sight of Liam standing over her, shaking her with what seemed to be a panicked expression. “Oi, ye need to wake up, we need to leave!” He urged, grabbing her arm and practically yanking her up out of bed. She shook her head, confused about whether or not she was still dreaming as he pulled her towards the front door. 

“Liam! Liam, what’s going on?” She tried to fight back, but he wouldn’t budge. 

“I’ll explain in the car, alright? Get yer shoes on!” 

She did as he said, slipping on a pair of canvas shoes as the sound of sirens wailing in the distance finally caught up to her, Liam cautiously keeping watch from the window. When she stood up, he snatched her again and they bolted out of the apartment, making their way to the back staircase opposite of how they would usually come home. 

Penelope struggled to keep up with him - especially as they sped down the stairs - and worried she was going to fall flat on her already scarred face. 

My face! The realization hit her. She didn’t have her bandages anymore. She was bare. The cool breeze felt foreign to her, but it was relieving at the same time. 

As she thought to herself, mindlessly following wherever Liam dragged her to, she caught the sight of a familiar van and her face contorted into confusion as the door slid open and she was pushed inside. Liam followed in directly behind her and pulled the door shut, tires burning out as they sped away from the sirens that quickly grew louder. 

The van was notably more crowded. Four men tucked away in the back, one where Liam and herself sat, and two in the front. All armed and on alert. 

“Liam, what’s going on?” Penelope asked, everything catching up to her at once. Her breathing quickened as she tried to swallow the growing familiar sense of impending doom, heart beginning to beat irregularly. He finally turned to her. 

“Someone snitched.” He answered simply, but it only raised more questions. 

“Snitched -?” She fell against Liam who caught her with ease as the van dramatically swerved. 

“Aye. Yer not safe there anymore, Penny. I’m sorry.” He spoke sympathetically, keeping her close to him as they continued to be jostled around. 

“Why wouldn’t I be safe there, who would snitch?” She urged, but Liam just shook his head and she kept quiet to her thoughts. The driver eventually became more controlled with his movements, everyone releasing a collective sigh of relief once the sirens eventually silenced. 

The van rolled to a stop and everyone hopped out, Liam taking his time with Penelope who held onto him as if her life depended on it. Surrounded by the other men, he led them into a different abandoned warehouse, though more polished than the one she was in before. The stairs seemed endless as Penelope’s heart raced, in her ears.

The climb inevitably ended and they entered a medium-sized room, darker as curtains were closed to block out the daylight. Men moved about with a purpose, some carrying heavier objects and rearranging, others hunched over a table where papers were scattered. 

But what really caught her attention was the familiar purple coat that joined the men at the table. 

“J…?” 

His gaze immediately made its way to where they stood, eyeing between the two of them causing Liam to step away. He approached her with an exaggerated swagger, but his eyes were sharper, more calculating than usual as he scanned her form. 

“Well, look who made it in one piece.” He grumbled to himself. His gaze then flickered over to Liam. “Y’know, I was starting to think we had a problem.” Liam wasn’t affected by the subtle threat, however, as Joker turned his attention back to Penelope. His hand gripped her jaw, turning her head every which way to check on her before letting go and patting her cheek. “Get her some clothes.” He nodded at Liam.

“Sure thing, boss.” Penelope’s eye widened, looking over at Liam.

“Boss -?” 

“Calm down, toots,” The Joker tried to console her. “He’ll explain.” He waved them off, throwing her one last look before he joined the men at the table once more. 

“Come on, now.” Liam ghosted a hand over her back, leading her out and into a separate room just down the hall. 

“Just what in the hell is going on!” Penelope snapped as soon as the door shut behind them. Liam sighed and ran a hand through his hair before searching for what she assumed were her ‘clothes’. “Liam, I swear, if you don’t fucking answer me -“

“Emma called the cops on ye.” 

Her breath caught, a sharp pang hitting her chest. 

“I told ye she couldn’t be trusted, Penny. She went snoopin’ where she shouldn’t have and found answers she didn’t like.” He finally turned to face her. “I’m sorry.” 

He watched as her eye glazed over, pain being the first thing he saw. Then it shifted into something new, something he wasn’t familiar with. He saw anger. She raised a hand, pointing at him as her lips moved to speak, but nothing came out. Her hand then moved to point at the door. “You work for him?” Penelope practically whispered. “You’ve worked with him this whole time?” She took a step towards him, breathing shaky. 

“Aye.” She chuckled dryly, turning around to pace a few steps. 

“This whole time I’ve been telling you about him, and you just played along.” She thought out to herself. 

“Penny -“

“Is anything about us real to you or was it all fake to get me here?” She turned to face him suddenly, pain returning. 

“None of this is fake fer me. What we have is real, yeah? What ye and the Joker have is real.” He cautiously walked towards her, resting his hands on her shoulders. “I was only tryin’ to protect ye. Hell, I’d still lay my life down fer ye if it came down to it.” Penelope sniffed and he reached to wipe away the tear that fell. 

“You promise?” She whispered. Liam nodded.

“Aye. I promise.” He rubbed her shoulders as she stood in thought. “How about those clothes, yeah?”

It wasn’t until then that she finally took in the room. It was smaller, seemingly a makeshift bedroom. A queen bed sat in the center. A more worn-down wardrobe sat against one of the side walls beside the bed. A single nightstand with a lamp. “What is this place?” She asked as Liam rummaged through the bottom drawers of the wardrobe. 

“The Joker’s main hideout.”

“Is this…?”

“His bedroom? Aye. If ye couldn’t tell by how horribly furnished it is.” The two of them chuckled. He then stood up, holding a black turtleneck and leggings to match. “Uh…” He sighed. “Wasn’t sure about the color.” He stated sheepishly. Penelope just shrugged. 

“Black’s my favorite, anyways.” 

“Good! I’ll leave ye to get changed then. Ye can head back to the main room when yer ready, I’ll be there.” He gave a tight-lipped smile, patting her shoulder as he passed and left. 

Once the door shut, she quickly changed, feeling gross from wearing the same thing for too long. She spotted a small mirror that hung next to the wardrobe and stood in front of it, eyeing the sleeve that was left unfilled due to her missing arm. 

Penelope looked around the room, then spotted her knives and handgun sitting on the nightstand and smiled at the sight. Before she grabbed one of the knives, she spotted an extra piece of equipment.

A harness. 

For the right thigh, three holsters for her knives. A holster for the handgun sat above them for easy access, she figured to prevent her from having to reach over to her left side.

She thought for a moment, wondering if she should try it on. Debating if this was what she truly wanted. Then she thought about what Liam said. About Emma calling the police, her apartment no longer being safe. She remembered what Joker had told her. 

“… once you go down this road, doll, there’s no turning back. Your cute little world will not be there for you anymore.”

Her hand felt the leather, caressing it with her fingertips. 

“I want you to stop pretending. I see potential. Potential that is greater than you’d ever know.”

Finally, she picked up the harness, struggling to slip on and fasten it with her one arm. She was eventually able to, tightening and fitting it where she could until it was comfortable. Grabbing the knives, she slipped them into their rightful place one by one, followed by the handgun. She then took one of the knives, carefully cutting through the fabric of her sleeve until it popped off, now leaving a hole where her shoulder was. 

She took a deep breath, walking to the door when she stopped to look at herself in the mirror once more, eyeing her exposed scars. She chewed on her cheek, swallowed anxiously, then ripped the door open and made her way back to the other room. 

Once she stepped inside, she felt eyes on her. Too many for her comfort. She stopped and looked around, finding Liam and the Joker next to each other at the same table as before. The former’s mouth was agape, in awe at the transformation while the Joker simply stared, expression unreadable. 

The other men around the table quickly followed their line of sight, each of their own expressions holding a variety of reactions. Some were the same as Liam’s, others indifferent and going back to what they were doing previously. The Joker then motioned for her to come to them with his fingers, licking at his lips as she obliged. 

“I see ya found my little gift.” He said as he eyed her up and down. 

“I did.” Penelope replied quietly, all too aware of everyone around her. “It’s nice.” She complimented with the ghost of a smile. 

“Good. It wasn’t cheap.” Liam gave him a look. 

“Ye stole it.” He jested.

“Which took effort, alright? Let’s not worry about the little details here.” He waved off Liam as Penelope giggled before re-focusing on the blueprint of Gotham City laid out below them. “Now, as I was saying before being rudely cut off -“ Penelope and Liam shared a look this time. 

She tried to disappear into the background, watching as the Joker spoke. It was the first time she’d seen him so…methodical. She had imagined chaos, shouting, maybe even madness. Instead, he seemed almost clinical in his delivery, though that unnerving smile still twisted his face.

“Here,” The Joker said, tapping the map, his voice low and raspy but commanding attention. “The main point of entry. It’s not heavily guarded, but that doesn’t mean we don’t take precautions. We’ll slip in, take what we need - and more - then leave. In and out.”

Liam nodded along, leaning over the blueprint to point out potential bottlenecks. “We should hit the power grid first, cause a blackout in the area. Maybe set off a couple a charges in the area. With the chaos around, no one will be lookin’ where we are.”

The Joker’s head tilted ever so slightly as he considered Liam’s addition, a grin spreading wider. “Now that’s what I’m lookin’ for. A little disturbance goes a long way.”

Penelope’s breath hitched. It was surreal, seeing him like this, Fully in control, directing the madness with such precision. The scars that marred his face were more pronounced under the dim lights, but it was his eyes that unnerved her the most. Hungry and sharp with intelligence.

He paused, studying Penelope like a new toy. “Got somethin’ to say, toots?” He asked, almost coaxing.

Penelope swallowed hard, her thoughts spinning as emotions piled on top of each other, fighting for attention. Excitement, adrenaline, hesitation, confusion. But her mind made its decision. “When do we start?” She asked as she looked up at him with a mischievous grin. 

Penelope’s chest tightened as she watched the men around the table nod, some of them grinning, others chuckling at her boldness. The Joker’s presence was suffocating, pulling everyone into his chaotic orbit. And here she was, standing on the edge of it, caught in his gravitational pull. “Atta girl.” 

After the meeting concluded, Penelope looked around and spotted a pile of crates by the only open window. As Liam and the Joker had their own conversation, she made her way over and climbed over a couple before sitting on top of one of them, facing the window as her legs swung over the edge. Her hand reached over to grab one of her knives, mindlessly flipping and toying with it as she thought. 

She knew Emma for nearly two years. After everything they had been through, after all she opened up to her about, after their moments of vulnerability. She betrayed her at the first sign of trouble. Just as Liam said. 

Thud!

She launched the knife into the crate in the spot beside her, digging it back out. 

Emma turned her back as if it never meant anything. 

Thud!

Penelope pulled it back out, about to throw it again. 

“Do that again and you’ll set the whole place on fire.” The Joker’s gravelly voice stopped her. 

“Really?” She asked in a minor panic.

“No.” He answered simply and she rolled her eyes with a giggle. He leaned beside her against the crates, head level with her thighs. A moment of silence passed before Penelope broke it. 

“How did Liam know it was Emma?” She asked out of the blue, staring out of the window. Joker licked at his scars. 

“Traced the call.”

“Liam told you about his suspicion about her, didn’t he?” He raised his eyebrows and tilted his head, a confirmation. “I suppose I should thank you, then.” He grumbled. 

“I don’t do ‘thank you’s.” 

“Whatever you say, Mr. J.” The two glanced at each other, the Joker humming at the new title. “What exactly is this raid for?” 

“Couple of the men found an armory. Hidden in plain sight.” 

“As if you don’t have enough guns?”

“Well, you can never have enough. The fun hasn’t even started, toots.” 

“I’m coming, right?” 

“Well, duh, I wouldn’t drag you in just to sit around. But you’re stickin’ with me.”

“No complaints from me.”

-

The low hum of the city echoed in the distance, its usual chaos muted by the weight of anticipation. Penelope adjusted her harness, her fingers tracing the edges of the throwing knives snugly fitted in their holsters. The handgun sat just below her hip, a cold but reassuring presence. It had been hours of preparation, and now, standing beside the Joker, her pulse was a steady beat of adrenaline.

Liam crouched by a power junction a few feet away, his hands working quickly to cut the wires. The other men were shadows, blending into the urban sprawl, setting up charges farther out. The Joker stood calmly, watching, a glint of madness in his eye.

Penelope, nervous but determined, stayed close to him, practically stuck to his hip. He hadn’t said much to her yet, just a smirk here and there letting her know he enjoyed the fact that she was along for the ride. She kept her breaths steady, hands relaxed but ready.

“Alright, toots,” The Joker finally muttered, not turning to her but keeping his eyes on the armory’s entrance across the street, “Stay close.”

Her throat was dry, but she nodded. “Got it.”

Liam signaled from his position, and the neighborhood plunged into darkness. The streetlights blinked out one by one, leaving the street in a quiet, electric void. A low rumble followed, one of the charges going off. Penelope’s heart jumped at the sound, though no one else flinched. It was the distraction they needed.

“Time to move.” Joker grinned, tapping her on her hip.

They moved swiftly, the Joker leading the way through the newly darkened streets, his men fanning out behind him. The armory was hidden beneath the guise of a shipping company, its mundane exterior nothing more than a front. Penelope could feel the shift in energy, the calm before the storm. She could tell this wasn’t just a random job for him. It was calculated chaos, his version of art.

At the door, one of the Joker’s men swiftly bypassed the lock, and within moments they were inside, the scent of dust, carbon and metal filling the air. Penelope stayed close to the Joker as he said, her eyes scanning the room as they made their way through the warehouse. Weapons - guns, explosives, even military-grade equipment - lined the walls.

“This is the fun part,” The Joker whispered to her, eyes gleaming as he walked by a row of semi-automatics. “You take what you want and leave nothin’ for anyone else.”

Liam started directing the men, telling them what to grab and where to stash it. Penelope stayed beside the Joker, her mind racing. This was her chance. She hadn’t fully considered what being a part of this world would mean, until now. Yet, watching the Joker in his element, there was an allure she couldn’t deny.

As the men continued looting, a sudden clatter echoed from somewhere deeper in the warehouse. Penelope’s hand instinctively went to her knives, ready. The Joker just chuckled.

“Relax,” he said. “Always a few rats scurrying around.”

But Penelope couldn’t shake the feeling of unease. There was a rhythm to this. The power outage, the explosives, the break-in. But there was also the chance of everything going sideways. For the first time, she understood what Liam had meant when he taught her about staying calm in the face of danger during one of their training sessions.

“Stay close, toots,” The Joker murmured again as he pocketed a few grenades, “And keep those knives ready. Gonna need them sooner than ya think.”

Just then, the crackle of gunfire rang out from the far end of the warehouse, and one of the Joker’s men dropped to the ground. The distraction charges had pulled in some curious onlookers - possibly guards - but they weren’t enough to deter them entirely.

Penelope’s grip tightened around the hilt of her knife, and she felt the Joker’s hand on her back, nudging her forward.

“Go on,” He grinned, “Time to see what you’re really made of.”

Without thinking, Penelope stepped forward, eyes locking on the approaching guard. In one smooth motion, she hurled the knife. It sliced through the air with precision and buried itself in the guard’s forehead, causing him to fall back with a heavy thump. She reached for her second knife, ready to throw again, but the Joker’s laugh stopped her.

“Not bad for a first shot.” He cackled, stepping past her. “I’ll make a proper criminal out of you yet.”

Her heart raced, her fingers trembling slightly as she took a breath, grounding herself. The rush of the throw, the hit—it felt like a release, a tiny spark of the chaos the Joker had always seen in her. She gripped the second knife and stayed close to him as the warehouse descended into a frenzy, determined to prove herself in the dark heart of Gotham.

The warehouse erupted into chaos as the sound of gunfire echoed through the air. Penelope’s heart raced, a mix of fear and adrenaline coursing through her veins. She was still riding the high of her first throw when two guards burst into the room, weapons drawn and eyes scanning for threats.

“Get down!” One of the guards shouted, aiming his firearm at Penelope.

She felt a rush of instinct surge through her. She didn’t think; she moved. With a quick flick of her wrist, she released her second knife, watching it sail through the air, aimed straight for the first guard. It struck him in the thigh, and he stumbled, dropping his gun with a cry of pain, Joker bursting with laughter behind her. Liam ran up next to him, about to help her when he was stopped.

“Let her do it.” He ordered, and Liam stepped back with hesitation as they both watched. 

The second guard turned to Penelope, fury igniting in his eyes as he charged at her. She didn’t hesitate, dodging to the side and using her momentum to pivot. Her training kicked in; she had practiced this with Liam, but this was different. This was real.

As the guard lunged, she grabbed his wrist, twisting it and using his weight against him to throw him off balance. He staggered, but his free hand shot out, catching her in the side. Pain flared, but she fought through it, focusing on her training.

With a swift kick to his knee, she brought him down, and before he could recover, she pulled out her gun, turned the safety off and pulled the trigger at his head before anyone could comprehend what was happening. The first guard groaned in the background, still writhing from the knife wound.

“Get him, Penny!” Liam called. The Joker simply leaned against a stack of crates, arms crossed, a predator watching his prey.

Penelope was already moving again, advancing on him as the first guard struggled to rise. She picked up his gun and held it at his temple.

“Get down.” She mocked before her face twisted into disgust and a shot rang through the warehouse.

“Such a violent little thing.” The Joker said to Liam with a smirk, still observing the chaos unfold as his laughter echoed off of the walls.

Penelope’s chest heaved with exertion. She hadn’t expected the thrill of the fight to feel so intoxicating. 

She stepped back, regaining her breath as the two guards lay lifeless on the floor.

“Now, let’s finish this little party,” The Joker said, moving towards the door with a mischievous grin. “Remember, doll, it’s all about theatrics. You don’t leave any witnesses.”

Penelope followed him, a smirk on her face. This was her new world. The rush, the danger, the thrill of being truly alive. The Joker was right; she was beginning to love every moment of it.

[starlightshadowsworld]

The idea of Casey being the one to pick up the pieces when Splinter dies.

It's Casey who sets off the crusher with nothing but a cold "oops."

He carries Splinters body when the rest are too mortified to touch it.

He's the one who steals flowers from the park and a florists, wracking his brain for ones the man once said we're signifsnt.

And not missing the suprised luck from Leo when he gets them right.

It's Casey who sits silent through the short funeral, pulls out tissues from nowhere and ends up sending them all back to the lair.

And than buries Splinter with a final goodbye.

Casey gets the van, sliding into the drivers seat.

April sits beside him, mumbling something about a farm house.

Her eyes are wide and she's rambling withouy realising it, Casey puts a hand on get her shoulder and mimes breathing in and out.

Which she does, she gives him some directions and he nods.

He gives her his hoodie, she's not cold but it's bigger on her and it was grounding when he needed both hands to drive.

She was out like a light before long.

Everyone else is silent, Casey just focused on the road and as he drives the rest fall asleep.

Their completly exhausted now the danger was gone.

Even if they were far from processing what had happened.

Casey settled into the drive, he doesn't allow the sigh that fills his whole his body until Raph starts snoring.

His father said many things, but if it was one true it was that Jones were survivors.

He would survive, just like he always had.

He fiddled with the radio, turning it low and followed the country roads.

Vaguely he recalled he had killed a man today.

Casey decided it didn't matter.

April had mentioned the farm house before, knew it was well looked after. Casey didn't expect it to have much food and made a note of the nearest shop.

They'd be living out tins and microwaved meals for a bit but they'd survive.

Casey gently carried them all inside, even if Mikey and April had latched onto him like a Koala and made putting them down harder.

He decided against putting them in the rooms, knowing they'd wake up panicked if they were alone.

So he settled on making a blanket fort in the living room.

He ignored the thought that was how he and his sis had slept after their mum died.

Dad had gotten drunk.

Their wasn't any booze in the farmhouse, he double checked.

The others had ended up in a snoring tangle of limbs and blankets.

Hope they like soup.

He dug out some stuff, humming a tune to himself.

If it was one his mum used to sing, he kept that to himself.

That and the way his hand was shaking.

Casey decided that didn't matter either.

The luxury for breaking down was 200 miles back.

The others were slowly getting up, no one spoke and Casey quietly served the soup before leaving them to eat.

No one noticed him leaving, too caught up with their own demons and greif.

He made his way outside, getting some feed for the chickens.

He sat down, not realising how long he stayed their till one pecked at his hand.

When dud the stars come out?

If Casey didn't know any better he'd say the Chicken was worried about him.

"Jones Survive... But not all or them."

His hands were shaking.

Casey stuffed them in his pockets before realising he wasn't wearing his hoodie.

And he was shivering.

The chicken clucked at him, settling in his lap and he rubbed her feathers.

"There gonna be okay, it'll hurt. I don't think it ever stops you know? Wonder who'll crack first... Not the funnest guessing game. I'm no shrink but being together helps."

The chicken clucked as if to ask if so, why was he outside alone.

"Being together helps when it's your family." Casey was many things but he knew he wasn't family.

At least he was a stray that never went way.

At most he was a friend.

But Casey Jones wasn't family.

Not where it counted.

It wasn't to say they didn't care about him or that he didn't care about them.

He would die for them... He would ki-...

The chicken nuzzled his shaking hands.

"I'm not... We're not....you know you are really nosey for a chicken."

The chicken clucked, like "not falling for that Jones" but stayed nuzzling Casey's shaking hands.

Casey smiled a little.

"Think you and I are gonna be good friends, Doc."

[chiriwritesstuff]

Meet Me at the Farmers Market! - 3. Sunflower

Farmers Market! Joel Miller x Confident! Plus Sized F! Florist Reader

Series Masterlist

Series Summary: What does a Contractor do in his spare time? Sell his wood carvings at the Saturday Farmers Market, of course! A Grumpy x Sunshine Joel Miller series collective of one shots, Updates every Saturday!

Rating: M

Word Count: 1.5K

Warnings: Jealous! Joel Miller, Tommy is a meddling little shit, Joel is emotionally constipated, Joel checks out his new vendor neighbor like a fucking caveman!

Chapter Summary: Joel, meet Sunflower. This story takes place before parts 1 + 2.

Banners by @saradika

"I heard there's a new vendor this week."

Joel grunts, lugging the 10x10 pop-up tent from his truck as Tommy casually steps out of the passenger side, a cigarette dangling lazily from the corner of his mouth.

"Put that out, asshole, and come give me a hand," Joel says, dropping the tent onto the blazing Texas pavement. 

Tommy flicks the cigarette out into the wind, snagging the pop-up table from the truck bed as Joel lines up the tent with precision, not a hair's breadth off from the designated markers.

"You ain't a bit curious about your new neighbor? Sylvie spilled the beans. Says it's some out-of-town florist, a friend from her college days. Rumor has it she's a looker... and flying solo," he says, shooting Joel a pointed look, a sly smirk playing on his lips.

"Oh yeah? and how did you get Sylvia to tell you this?" 

"I have my ways."

"I'm sure you do."

"So, I was thinking..."  

"No."

"Oh come on, Joel! You didn't even know what I was going to say!"

Joel grabs the last crate from his truck, slamming the tailgate in frustration as he shoves it into his meddling brother's chest. "Why would I be interested in some random girl who," he huffs, "I ain't know nothing about? What if shes..."

"Silvie showed me a picture of her, she's exactly your type!" Tommy pulls out his phone, flicking through his messages. "I just so happened to ask her to send me one of her photos..."

"I'M. NOT. INTERESTED." Joel snarls, gritting his teeth.

A JDM minivan, adorned with painted sunflowers, pulls up behind the brothers, a voice calling out as they bicker.  

"Excuse me," a sweet and amused voice breaks through, observing the tense standoff between the two men. "Mind if I slip into my stall real quick?"

Joel pivots toward the voice, a glare etched on his face, irritated at being caught in this compromising and - rather fucking irritating - situation. "Just hold..." His words trail off as he lays eyes on the girl — no, a full-fledged woman, his new vendor neighbor.  Goddammit, he thinks, she's fucking gorgeous. Fucking Tommy...

It's Tommy who speaks first.

"Well, hello there!" he calls out, a look of satisfaction on his face as he faces you. "Don't mind us, let us get out of your way!" he pulls him aside, rolling his eyes at his brother's sudden silence. "I fuckin' told you," he whispers in his ear. Joel swears he feels his satisfied told-you-so smirk as he pivots toward your direction, the smug bastard. 

You pull into the stall next to his, your hair piled up into a messy bun, sunglasses perched on your nose. You're wearing an oversized flannel, the sleeves rolled up to your elbows, hints of flowers - Jasmine? - delicately tattooed on your forearms. "Thanks!" you call out, your voice - your voice... The voice of a fucking angel, he thinks, his Adam's apple bobbing as he nervously nods in your direction.

"Need a hand?" Tommy says as he approaches you, his hands in his back pockets. "Joel's just about done setting up, why don’t I give you a hand? I’m Tommy, by the way. That grumpy asshole right there is Joel.”

“Are you sure? I mean, I got..."

"Don't you worry your pretty little head off, Joel's a big boy, he can manage."

Joel rolls his eyes as he sees Tommy saunter over to you, opening your door as you step out of your van. He breathes heavily as he sees your legs pop out, the sight of your very short jeans cutoffs barely covering your... assets.  Those shorts should be fucking illegal, he thinks as he fiddles with the collar of his shirt, suddenly too tight and constricting, the Texas sun and the heat suddenly plunging him headfirst into the depths of hell.  

Joel glares at nothing as he watches the two of you from the corner of his eye, your head thrown back as you laugh - with your entire fucking body - at something stupid that his brother is telling you as you both look in his direction, Tommy's head shaking as you playfully slap him in response.  How in the fuck does he make it look so easy? he ponders as he sees his brother effortlessly make buddy-buddy with his new vendor neighbor.

"Dad," Sarah calls out as she stands next to him, mindlessly arranging his woodland carvings on his vending table. "What the hell is up with you today?" she chides as she takes in her father's tense form, his hands clenching atop the table. She looks in the direction that her father is looking at, seeing her uncle standing next to you in your stall as you arrange several floral arrangements on your table. "Who is that with Uncle Tommy? She's new. She's pretty, Uncle Tommy doesn't waste a darn minute, huh?"

"I don't know," Joel grumbles. "Some transplant from out west. Sylvie's friend."

"Sunflower? That's her?"

"Sunflower?"

"Yeah, Sylvie's friend from Washington. They were college roommates, she's planning on opening a nursery in town sometime soon. Next to your office, I heard. I want to pick her brain, she's totally cool! She lived in Japan for a while, and learned ikebana!"

"Ike... what?"

Sarah rolls her eyes at her father's ignorance. "IkeBANA, the art of Japanese floral arrangement?" she motions to the flower arrangements on her table. "It's not like the stuff you get at the Whole Foods, it's totally fucking cool!"

"Language, girlie."

"Dad, I'm in college now, I'm a fully realized adult, and if I like to recall," she gives him a pointed look, "I didn't have the best influence about swearing growing up, especially with you and Uncle Tommy cussing each other out every five minutes!"

Tommy waves in your direction as he approaches Joel and Sarah, a wide smile on his face. "Shes somethin' else," he says to the both of them, placing an arm around Sarah as he nods in your direction. "Her family was stationed in Yokosuka back when she was in high school, that's how she learned how to do all of her arrangements and shit. She also does this thing where she fixes broken stuff with liquid gold... her pottery is fucking amazing! better than these fucking critters we be selling every weekend..."

"Kintsugi, Uncle Tommy. That's what it's called." 

"Whatever it is, don't ya think she would be perfect for your old man?"

Sarah scoffs, punching Tommy in the ribs. "Didn't you just spend the entire morning flirting with her?"

"Tommy flirts with anything with two legs"

Tommy flicks Joel off. "I have you know, I was talking up your Papi for the last hour, tellin' her all about his woodland critters and how he's a business owner, shit, I even offered his services for her new nursery...."

"Tommy..." Joel warns, shaking his head in frustration. "We ain't got time for some new project..."

"Her new space is the one next to ours! you know, Jimmy's old spot! It's hardly an inconvenience! I'm sure judging how your mouth flopped like a fish when you laid eyes on her you wouldn't mind her being around so much as you like to deny it!"

"Hi," a voice interrupts the three of them, their eyes darting towards you in shock.  

"Hey Sunflower!" Tommy clears his throat as he motions at you. "What's that tree you got in your hands? It's a baby!"

You look at the Bonsai tree in your hands, it's reclaimed pot laced with gold. "Oh, it's just a little gift for Joel, now that we're vendor neighbors," you reply, a shy smile on your face. You hand it over to Joel, his hands slightly gracing yours, as he looks at it in wonder. "It's in a reclaimed pot that I fixed with liquid gold... it's called Kitsungi. I hope we can be friends, and thank you for offering to help out with the nursery, Tommy told me you own a construction company..." you look up at him expectantly.

"Dad..." Sarah whispers, nudging him. "Say thank you!"

"Your tent is three inches off from your marker, by the way," he replies as he places the bonsai off to the side of his display table. "You might want to get that checked out, don't want to get a fine or anything like that."

"Oh," you reply. "Yeah, thanks for telling me..."

"What he means is, thank you, Sunflower. I'm Sarah, by the way. Joel's daughter," she cuts in, clearly embarrassed by her father's gruffness. "Don't worry, he's not always like this!"

"He's actually always like this," Tommy mutters.

"Well, It was nice meeting you all," you say as you look in Joel's direction. You nervously bite your lip as he looks at you intensely as he suddenly licks his lips in response. Tommy and Sarah both look at the interaction, giving each other a knowing look. "I hope to see you around," you say, turning as you walk back to your booth. "Thanks again!" Sarah yells at your retreating form.

"Joel... what in the..."

"Don't fucking say it, Tommy."

"You just looked at her like she was in fucking heat or something, what the hell is wrong with you?!"

"Don't!" he warns, looking in your direction as you bend over, grabbing a basket off of the ground. He adjusts his collar again, his face suddenly covered in sweat.

"Oh Dad," Sarah muses, looking in your direction.   

"You're SO FUCKED."

[queenmeriadoc]

Hi 😊

Can I ask 3, 26 and 32 for the ask game?!

Well of course 💚

3. 3 films you could watch for the rest of your life and not get bored of?

That’s actually kind of difficult to answer, let me think for a moment,

Loving Vincent - it’s about the death and life of Vincent Van Gogh, animated with thousands and thousands of oil paintings in his style.

Probably any of the Lord of the Rings films.

Imagine me and you, it’s one of my favourite films. About a bride who falls in love with the florist.

26. fave colour and why?

My favourite colour used be orange, because I was obsessed with Naruto as a teen. Then it evolved into for yellow because my favourite flower is the sunflower and my favourite painting of Vincent Van Gogh is one of his sunflower paintings, but then it turned to like mustard yellow for some reason. But now it’s slowly leaning towards a green colour. And that’s because of the Celebrimbor, look I can’t do one of these without mentioning him or Charles Edwards 💚

32. how many tabs do you have open right now?

Listen I am on my phone and I have none, having multiple tabs open stresses me out so bad you have no idea.

Ask Game

[herohikara-wol]

FFXIV Write 2k23 - Day 23

Suit - Emperor AU, Regula x Varis, Trans!Varis HC, tw: dysphoria mention

Regula smiled softly at the florist, this was his third visit this week and she was clearly dying for good gossip. Regula, legatus of the VIth and only son of one of the older families of Garlemald, buying flowers and wine for an unknown beau was certainly gossip. “At least tell me her name, van Hydrus.”

“Half the city would know by Darkday. No thank you.” He chuckled softly, “just my usual please ma’am.”

“Fine, but I am dying to know what kind of woman deserves Heliotropes, Honeysuckle, and Yarrow.” She huffed a bit and finished the arrangement. “There you go. One bouquet of longing and everlasting devotion. I can’t wait for the day you get to upgrade it to a bouquet of passion.” She gave him a wicked grin as he paid.

“That day might be soon, with luck, I’ll be able to propose to my love publically at the Winter Ball.”

“Oh! How exciting! I’ll make sure to watch the news after the ball for the story, unless you come tell me in person.” She giggled and waved him out of the shop as he carried the bouquet out, putting his cloak over it to protect it from the snow while he got into his car.

They’d been forbidden from being open about their relationship after Varis’ transition. He was meant to be a prince, the pregnancy that had kept Varis hidden in the palace supposedly ill with the same thing that’d taken his father had to be disguised. Solus directly blamed Regula for Varis’ condition and tried to turn the pair against each other. It hadn’t worked, it never would have worked. Varis and Zenos only survived the dysphoria because Regula was there to keep his husband from leaping off the top of a tower. Regula would always stand beside Varis, no matter what.

Solus had given them one gift when he gave the throne to a random Eorzean adventurer.

He gave them the chance to make their secret relationship public. Varis was still hesitant, worried over how the Senate and other noble families would judge him, but Regula was beyond caring. They could whisper until their lips went blue, he wasn’t letting fear of discovery drive a wedge between them anymore.

Hells, Hero was openly gay and by a quirk of his biology, able to bear children as well. He couldn’t imagine the young viera trying to keep them apart the way his predecessor had. So he’d started to drop hints, giving Varis flowers, buying him his favorite vintages of wine, giving him nice practical things like armor polish and a new quill with his name on the cover of the case in gold lettering.

The ball was next week, and he’d be damned if he missed the chance to finally have the family that was stolen from him by the bloody ghost haunting the palace. Zenos was his son, Varis was his perfect wonderful husband, and he would throw everything away if it meant he could be part of their lives properly from here on out. He pulled his car up to the tailor and parked, taking a deep breath and moving the flowers towards the warmth of the sunlight. One last chore, and then he could go home to his love.