#i wanted to include the one where he's wearing the bucket hat in i think ep 5 but i couldn't color it alskjdf | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

stephstars08 · 2 years ago

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Still Alive ~ Chapter Three

Ethan Landry x Reader

Warnings: Adult Language, Alcohol, Fighting, Physical Fighting, Some Angst but also some Fluff, and Anxiety (Sorry if I forgot any)

Word Count: 2,697

Author’s Note: Hello everyone! I hope you all enjoyed the last chapter. Sorry for the longer wait. I didn’t realize yesterday was Mother’s Day. I promise the chapter schedule will continue with every release on Friday and Sunday so chapter four will be posted this Friday! I ALSO WANT TO MENTION THAT THIS CHAPTER INVOLVES THE PARTY SCENE FROM THE MOVIE SO THIS WILL INCLUDED THE SCENE WHERE TARA ALMOST GET’S TAKEN ADVANTAGE OF SO IF THAT MAKES YOU FEEL UNCOMFORTABLE I SUGGEST YOU EITHER SKIP THIS CHAPTER OR JUST SKIP THAT WHOLE PART! I ALSO WANT TO MENTION THAT I DID PICK OUT A COSTUME FOR THE READER BUT IF YOU DON’T LIKE IT YOU CAN JUST USE A DIFFERENT COSTUME! Anyways I hope everyone enjoys this chapter!

Y/N was at the Halloween frat party sitting on a couch with Mindy and Anika. Y/N was dressed as Rosie the Riveter. She had the costume left over from last year when she played Rosie in a musical for school. Mindy wasn’t dressed up since she said it wasn’t her vibe, says the horror fanatic. She just had on a sweater and a pair of jeans. Anika had on a pumpkin tank top with blue jeans and an orange bucket hat with a knife design on it.

Y/N wasn’t going to lie, she felt like a third wheel sitting next to Mindy and Anika, so she looked around for Tara, Ethan, or Chad. Suddenly she saw someone dressed as Ghostface which quickly made her blood start to boil. It angers her how people dress up in that stupid ass costume acting like it’s just another Halloween costume. “Hey Y/N.” She heard Mindy say which broke her strong glare away from the jackass. “You good?” Mindy asked her with concern noticing how tense her best friend is. “Yeah, I need a drink.” Y/N said as she got up and walked away.

She walked into this one room with flashy lights and people dancing. She spotted a table full of different kinds of shots, so she walked over to the table. She grabbed one of the shots that was whiskey and downed it fast. She winced at the burning feeling in her throat. Y/N isn’t the biggest drinker but tonight, she really needed to get wasted. She wants to get wasted. Before she could grab another shot she spotted Ethan with Chad. She watched them take a shot together. She giggled a little bit after seeing Ethan spit the liquid right back into the shot glass. He’s not the biggest drinker either. Another thing they both have in common.

Y/N couldn’t help but scoff at Chad’s costume. Chad had on a cowboy hat on, no shirt, and a pair of jeans on. However, Y/N couldn’t help but think Ethan looks so damn adorable in his costume. She noticed he also had cardboard cuffs on his arms that he hadn’t shown her before. She knew Chad was trying to get Ethan to score with the girl wearing a Harry Potter costume. The girl just laughed at Ethan and turned back to her friends and continued to dance. Y/N couldn’t help but feel bad for him. Of course, Ethan had that shy and nerdy type of energy but he was still so fucking hot. But, besides his looks, he’s such a sweet and caring guy. Any girl would be lucky to have him as their boyfriend. But, of course hoping that one day she’ll be that lucky girl.

Y/N was about to walk over to the boys till she spotted a familiar girl wearing a pirate costume making her way to the staircase with a random guy. “Shit!” Y/N hissed and quickly made her way over to Tara. “Hey! What’s going on?” Y/N said getting Tara’s attention. “I’m taking Tara upstairs.” The guy answered for Tara which already sent a red flag to Y/N. “You wanna come too, cutie?” he asked her with a flirty smirk. Y/N wanted to slap that fucking smirk off his stupid fucking face. “No thanks, fuck boy! Not interested.” Y/N snapped as she sent a dirty glare towards the asshole. “Tara, why don’t you stay down here.” Y/N said to Tara, but she shook her head. “Y/N, it’s okay.” Tara told her with a reassuring smile. Y/N knew that Tara was completely wasted, and this dick was trying to take advantage of that.

Mindy and Anika noticed what was going on so they both quickly got up and walked over to them to help Y/N out. “Hey, wanna call it a night?” Anika asked with a fake smile on her face. While Mindy and Anika were trying to talk Tara into staying downstairs Y/N walked back into the other room to get Chad. “Hey, big guy.” Y/N said tapping Chad on the shoulder which got his attention and Ethan’s. “You’re needed.” Y/N told him with a serious look in his eyes. Chad and Ethan didn’t even ask questions. They just followed Y/N back towards the staircase where Mindy and Anika were arguing with the guy.

“Hey partner.” Chad said stepping in front of his sister and Anika. “Tara, she’s good down here.” Chad told the guy. “I’m sorry, what was that?” The guy asked playing dumb. “You are such a fucking idiot!” Y/N snapped with annoyance making sure everyone heard what she said. Mindy and Anika laughed at Y/N’s comment. “What was that cutie?” The guy asked giving her that stupid ass smirk again which made her more annoyed if that was even possible. Before Y/N could snap back someone else did.

“Don’t call her that!” Ethan snapped as he stared at the guy with a furious look in his eyes. Y/N was in shock by Ethan taking up for her. She’s never seen this side of Ethan before, and she really liked it. She’s never seen the look he has in his eyes right now. She’s never heard him use that tone before.

“Guys, it’s okay.” Tara said finally speaking. “I want to.” Tara told her friends which made the guys confidence shoot up even higher. “See, she wants to.” The guy said in a taunting way. “C’mon.” The guy said roughly, grabbing Tara’s arm and started to drag her up the steps which made her fall because of how intoxicated she was. She ended up falling on her ass. “Tara!” Y/N said with worry as she quickly ran to Tara’s side.

Chad grabbed the guy and threw him off Tara and down the steps. “Why don’t you get your fucking hands off her!” Chad snapped with anger as he glared at the guy. “Get the fuck off me!” The guy snapped back pushing Chad off him. “Guys!” Tara said as she let Y/N help her stand back up. “Guys! Stop it!” Tara said, raising her voice a little bit. Y/N would try to break it up but to be honest, she wanted Chad to beat the fuck out of this asshole. “Fuck you!” The guy snapped pushing Chad again. Before Chad could retaliate someone stepped in front of him.

“Sorry to interrupt.” Sam’s voice rang out. “I’m just going to tazze you in the balls real quick.” Sam said in a calm tone as she took out her taser from her back pocket. Everyone watched Sam tazze the asshole right in the balls. The guy groaned out in pain as he fell to floor holding his groin. Y/N couldn’t help but laugh watching the guy role around groaning in pain. She’s definitely going to have to give Sam a high five for this later. “Don’t ever lay your hands on my sister!” Sam hissed staring down at the guy with a death glare. “Fucking bitch!” The guy hissed out in pain. Tara was fuming at what her big sister just did.

“Sam, are you fucking kidding me?” Tara snapped letting go of Y/N’s hand and walking over to her sister. “You’re stalking me now!” Tara added very upset. Tara walked out the front door before Sam could say anything. The group started to hear people referring to Sam as that psycho girl thanks to the stupid rumors that are flooded online. “We should go.” Mindy said, moving Sam out the door. Anika and Chad followed behind Sam and Mindy. Before Y/N met Ethan outside the door she kicked the guy in the knee which made him hiss in pain. “Take that, cutie.” Y/N mocked him and walked out the door. Ethan looked at her with a proud smile. “Nice one!” Ethan complimented her as he took off his cardboard helmet. “Thanks!” Y/N said giving him a wink as they followed behind their friends. Ethan’s cheeks turned a bright red from the wink she gave him.

Tara was walking faster than anyone else. Sam was trying her best to keep up with her because she wanted to talk to Tara but clearly Tara didn’t want to. Ever since moving to New York Sam has been very protective over Tara, which Y/N understands why but she mentioned to Sam to not go overboard because that’s what her mom did and look at where they are.

“Tara, will you stop.” Sam called out to her. “I cannot believe you did that! You embarrassed me!” Tara called back out as she kept on walking. “That guy was a dick!” Sam told her in a stern tone. “He was going to take advantage of you!” Sam added trying to get through to her suborned sister. “So!?” Tara hissed as stopped walking and whipped around to face Sam making her slam on the breaks. “So?” Sam said in a confused tone. “If I want to hook up with an asshole that’s my decision. My decision!” Tara explained with frustration in her tone as Y/N and the rest of the group finally caught up to the sisters. “Okay.” Sam said still confused on why Tara was acting like some asshole taking advantage of her was okay. “It’s not about you!” Tara said is a harsh tone. “I mean you-you’re out of my life for five years and then you can’t leave me alone for five minutes.” Tara said stumbling over her words because of how angry she was and the buzz she had because of the alcohol wasn’t helping either. “Because you’re not dealing with what happened to us.” Sam said starting to get frustrated with Tara. “Have you even gone to see the counsellor once?” Sam asked in a stern tone. “No! I’m not going to!” Tara told her in the same tone her sister just used. “Why not?” Sam snapped, starting to lose her patience.

“Because I’m uninterested in living in the past like you.” Tara snapped, striking one of Sam’s nerves. “What’s that supposed to mean?” Sam asked taken back by what Tara just said. “Hey guys- “Chad said trying to stop the tension that was growing more and more but Tara cut him off. “It means that I’m not gonna let what happened to us for three days define my life.” Tara explained to Sam. What Tara just said really struck Y/N hard. She feels like she’s holding more of a grudge from what happen than Tara and Tara had a lot more happen to her. Tara got attacked way worse than Y/N did but she’s not having nightmares. Yeah, Y/N got stabbed by Amber in the side but that’s it. Y/N doesn’t understand why she’s still so angry. She killed Amber. She got revenge for her father.

“Hey!” A voice called out breaking Y/N out of her deep thoughts. She saw a group of girls walk towards Sam. One of the girls splashed their drink all over Sam leaving her shirt soaked. “Murder!” The girl hissed at Sam making her friends laugh. Sam shoved the girl back as her blood was boiling hot. “WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU!” Sam yelled as Chad and Tara held her back. As the girl and Sam screamed at each other one of the girls said something. “You guys should stay away from her. She knows what she did.” The girl warned the rest of the group. “I didn’t fucking do anything!” Sam snapped full of anger and frustration. “She killed your dad!” The same girl said to Y/N which made her start to get worked up as well. Thanks to her mother’s stupid fucking book, the whole world knows what happened to get dad. “Don’t believe everything you read on the internet you dumb bitch!” Y/N snapped as she glared at the girl with fire in her eyes. Ethan put one of his hands onto her shoulder which quickly made her calm down. “WALK AWAY!” Mindy yelled at the girls, and they did just that.

“I’m so tired of this shit!” Sam said with a heavy sigh as she tried to wring out her soaking shirt. “I-I have some tissues.” Ethan said taking his hand off Y/N’s shoulder and dug through his jean pocket. Ethan took out a small amount of tissues. “I have like, three tissues.” Ethan said counting them and handing them over to Sam. Sam grabbed the tissues and started to dry her neck and chest off from the sticky liquid. Y/N noticed everyone but Sam was starting to walk away so she grabbed Ethan’s arm and followed the group.

~~~~~~~~~~

Y/N was at Sam and Tara’s apartment with everyone. Y/N was sitting at the dinning table by herself. Chad went to bring Tara some medicine for her hangover. Y/N knows they both have feelings for one another but they are both too shy to admit it to each other which Y/N obviously knows that feeling. Mindy and Anika were in the living room sitting on the couch eating popcorn and watching TV. She didn’t know where Sam was.

“Hey.” Y/N heard someone say in a soft tone. When she looked up she saw Ethan standing in front of her with a soft smile. “Hi.” Y/N said returning a soft smile as she pulled the red bandanna out of her hair. “Can I sit with you?” Ethan asked sounding nervous which made him cuss at himself, but Y/N let out a giggle since she thinks it’s adorable. “You never have to ask.” Y/N told him. “Ha, yeah, right.” Ethan said with a nervous laugh as he took a seat on the chair next to her.

“Where’s your costume?” Y/N asked in a curious tone noticing he wasn’t wearing the cardboard suit over top his long black sleeve shirt. “I threw it into the dumpster before I came up here with you all.” Ethan answered her. “Didn’t help me get with the ladies.” Ethan added. “Yeah, I um saw you strike out with that Harry Potter chick.” Y/N said as a frown appeared on her lips. “Of course, you did.” Ethan said with frustration as he ran both of his hands down his face. “Ethan, it’s okay.” Y/N said pulling his hands away from his face. “It’s her loss, not yours.” She told him. “Really?” Ethan asked in a surprised tone.

“Ethan, you are such a sweet guy. You are a great and amazing friend.” Y/N told him as she put one of her hands on top of one of his. “If she doesn’t want a guy like that, then fuck her.” She told him as she stared deep into memorizing brown eyes that shinned in the light. “Thanks, Y/N” Ethan said has he stared deep into her eyes as well. Her eyes were his favorite thing about her. He always gets lost in them. “Ugh, will you two just make out already!” Mindy called out to them with a groan which startled them.

When they looked over into the living room, they saw that Chad and Quinn had joined Mindy and Anika in the room. They were so deep into conversation that they didn’t even notice Chad and Sam and Tara’s roommate walk in. “Forget that we are here?” Chad said with a teasing smirk on his face. “Here we go!” Y/N mumbled letting go of Ethan’s hand to hide the redness of her cheeks. Ethan’s cheeks were glowing red as well.

“Um, guys.” Anika said pointing to the TV. “Oh shit.” Mindy said as her mood quickly dropped after looking at the TV. “What’s wrong?” Y/N asked with worry as she stood up and walked into the living room. Ethan got up and followed her. When Y/N looked at the TV she felt her heart drop all the way down to the floor. It was a news report about a Ghostface attack.

“Oh my gosh!” Y/N said as she stared at the TV with wide eyes. “Hey guys wh- “Tara started as she walked into the room wearing regular clothes but cut herself off after seeing what was on the TV. “Go get Sam.” Mindy told Chad in a stern tone. Chad just gave his twin a nod and quickly walked out the door.

*Tags*

@sweetirilly @aqellano @igotmajordaddyissues @athenalive @hotweeb @ghostlyboiii

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snowmaniaph · 2 years ago

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Snow Life: Hat Remake 2

Abe Ryohei and Mukai Koji appears in the 2nd week of our project of remaking hats into the members’ desired designs. Items, where the members’ personalities shine, are made.

After finishing their work on remaking hats, the sensei looks at their hats and says “these are done well”. The two members look satisfied after receiving compliments.

Abe: If we are to give a score, it would be 100 points. We were able to show our creativity.

Mukai: I want to sell it at a flea market. For 800 yen!

Abe: Is that a modest price?

Mukai: It’s a bit aggressive pricing. If the price is cut then maybe I’ll sell it for 600 or 640 yen.

Abe: I made it perfectly so I want to sell it for 1000 yen.

Mukai: That’s pretty expensive

Abe: Let’s be a little aggressive! While we were working, Koji made me wear the hat and he continued working on it!

Mukai: At first we designed with the thought of ourselves wearing the hats we will make, but somehow, naturally it ended up like this.

Abe: I was cutting and pasting letters like I was making an advance announcement of a crime (!?). Doing that was also fun.

Mukai: It is like Abe-chan to put in letters, and he did a thorough job. The beauty of my hat is that it is denim x denim. And then when you dangle cloth besides denim, like the bandana hanging from the hole, then it becomes a highlight.

Abe: Koji normally wears bucket hats so it suits him, and his approach to the task is that of an experienced person. I don’t usually wear hats so...

Mukai: But it suited you!

Abe: I wanted to put a gold chain as a highlight because I wanted to represent the costumes for “Maybe” from “Takizawa Kabuki”. And taking inspiration from an asymmetrical necklace that is common these days, I also added another chain...

Mukai: So you were also thinking about the latest trends!

Abe: Actually the length of the chain wasn’t enough so I used 2 kinds (laughs)

Are the two of you originally interested in remade fashion or secondhand clothing?

Mukai: I can’t imagine Abe-chan wearing secondhand clothes...

Abe: I don’t. But remaking stuff like we did today was interesting. If we had more time I would have wanted to try making a “chimera”. Combining 2 different types of hats, like the right side is a bucket hat and the left side is a cap.

Mukai: That’s a nice idea! I’ve already been doing something like that, cutting and combining jackets from different brands. In the first place, I like secondhand clothes, and I also buy remade clothes!

This time we were limited to remaking hats but if you were free to choose things you would remake, what would it be?

Mukai: Maybe my own brain?

Abe: That’s a completely unexpected answer (laughs).

Mukai: Attach Abe-chan’s left brain to me, like a chimera.

Abe: What would an AbeKoji chimera be like...? I can’t imagine it (laughs).

Mukai: Ah, I have a serious answer! I want to remake a camera because you can’t change the leather outside.

Abe: You said something stylish! For me, I want to remake an apron.

Mukai: Are you the type to wear an apron at home?

Abe: I do wear it. Sometimes. Because don’t you hate it when your clothes get stained?

Mukai: Cute!

Abe: It might also be fun to use the logo from t-shirts we can’t wear anymore, and make it a patchwork!

Abe previously mentioned that he doesn’t wear bucket hats a lot. How would you have fun with fashion including hats?

Abe: Maybe I would wear a newsboy cap?

Mukai: You do have that image! Like a detective!

Abe: Koji seems to have a lot of hats.

Mukai: I have about 50 hats. Lately, there are a lot of caps and knitted hats. I also have a beret for summer. Hats are for all seasons!

Abe: If I’m wearing a hat in summer then... maybe a straw hat?

Mukai: Are you Luffy?!

Abe: Ahaha!

Mukai: I feel like it would suit you but I would probably do a double-take if I saw it in person. I would wonder if you started reading “ONE PIECE” (laughs).

Abe: I saw a nice straw hat in a shop before, and I hesitated about buying it. It was a white woven straw hat with an ultramarine ribbon. The hat looked refreshing.

Mukai: For me, I like hats but I won’t wear straw hats. It’s a little too high level for everyday use.

Abe: If we’re going to wear it, then it’s when we go to the river.

Mukai: Not to the beach, but to the river to play!

Abe: Maybe have a barbecue by the river? I want to wear it in that situation.

#snowman #snow man #abe ryohei #mukai koji #snow life #abekoji #translations #ryohei abe #koji mukai

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minyoongihoseok · 7 years ago

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yoongi + gayo outfits

#armiesnet #networkbangtan #yoongi.net #honeyboynet #bangtan #bts #yoongi #*#i tried so hard to get the coloring to match on these and yet alsdfj #and as you can tell i gave up on full body shots because they were coming out too blurry alskdfj #i don't know how i feel about this but i spent so long on it os i'm going to post it #i wanted to do a hobi one too but idk would anyone want that?#i talk so much in my tags sorry aslfddj;l #anyway i love yoongi and his outfits are cute #i wanted to include the one where he's wearing the bucket hat in i think ep 5 but i couldn't color it alskjdf

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meowonwoos · 2 years ago

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what’s mine is yours

pairing: seungcheol x reader(no pronouns used but it is mentioned reader is smaller than cheol)

genre: fluff, suggestive

word count: 642

summary: seungcheol leaves his clothes everywhere so you start wearing them

a/n: short but sweet imo hehe i hope u like it!!! just in time for them to mention cheol leaving his stuff everywhere on gose LOL

seungcheol had a habit of leaving his clothes everywhere. whether it be a hoodie, a hat, or a pair of sunglasses, there were pieces of him left around every single place he went to, including your apartment. and your car. sometimes your bag. you’d even find his watch in your pocket from time to time because he trusted you with it more than anyone else.

it was cute at first, realizing the bright orange object in your backseat was one of his beanies. it was like a little surprise whenever an item of his would pop up out of nowhere, a reminder of the love you two shared, you liked to think. but then you kept finding things, and you eventually grew a bit tired of his habit. it didn’t help that he’d never take his stuff home whenever he’d visit you, which isn’t that big of a deal, but you did wish the pile growing in the corner of your room would go away at some point. back to seungcheol’s place, where they truly belonged. you’d try to remind him about it every time you saw him but of course he never remembered, so naturally everything he left became a part of your closet as well.

the first time he saw you wearing one of his clothing items it was one of his bucket hats, a cheeky smile appearing on your face when you got in his car and he asked where you got it from.

“i saw it on the couch before i left! doesn’t it match my outfit?” you beamed at him. seungcheol just chuckled and nodded, saying it looked nice on you.

the following day you wore one of his hoodies to your little breakfast date together, your explanation being that it was cold and his sweater was thicker than any of the ones you owned. the day after that you walked out in one of his favorite jackets, practically drowning in the piece of clothing because of how oversized it was.

he didn’t mind you wearing his clothes�� in fact, he loved seeing you in his clothes and honestly thought it was the cutest thing ever. you were significantly smaller than him, and he adored the way his hats fit on you or how you made little sweater paws with the sleeves of his cardigans, waving them around as you talked to him about your day.

but right now you were perched on his lap with your back against him, seated perfectly on top of his growing erection, and all he wanted was to do was peel his stupid graphic tee off of your body.

he could tell you were up to something ever since he arrived at your apartment, reaching for plates on the top shelves, clinging onto his arm, peppering kisses on the back of his neck as you hugged him from behind. everything about your behavior today just screamed horny, but he wanted to make the most of your quality time together before your work schedules got busy.

“stop it, y/n.” he whined, nudging you a little.

“what? is something wrong, baby?” you pretended to stay focused on the round of mario kart you two were playing, a mischievous grin spreading across your face. you could hear the deep breath he let out in an attempt to restrain himself and it just made you want to play around with him even more, rocking your hips back and forth until you felt him completely hardened underneath you.

seungcheol quickly caught on and decided that he had enough, throwing his controller to the side to grip your hips tightly and whisper in your ear.

“stop teasing me or i’ll fuck you into this couch so hard, you’ll go dumb.”

you just grinned, biting your bottom lip in anticipation.

“can i at least pause the game?”

#seventeen fanfic #svt fanfic #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #seventeen fluff #seventeen smut #scoups fluff #scoups smut #seungcheol fluff #seungcheol smut #scoups #seungcheol #honey's fics #what's mine is yours

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aggressive-positivity-network · 3 years ago

Note

Do you have any autistic Scout headcanons? :P

Hell yeah!

I’ve actually thought about this a lot. A lot of people might think that Scout has ADHD, but I think he either has both ADHD and autism or just autism.

This is both because labeling Scout as having just ADHD is kind of a low-hanging fruit, and I also want to explore his symptoms a little more. So, in a word, I do, and thank you for asking about them!

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

Scout’s Spectrum:

So, where exactly does Scout fall on the autism spectrum?

First of all, he probably has both ADHD and autism, but wasn’t diagnosed with the latter until much later. This means that some of his symptoms were taken into account, but not all.

The ones that were paid attention to ramped up out of control, and the ones he didn’t hear about were stuffed away.

His ADHD symptoms include impulsiveness, need for stimulation, hyperfixations, forgetfulness, and insomnia; his autism symptoms include trouble with social skills, stimming, near inability to remember names and faces, lack of eye contact, hyperfixations again, and sensory processing issues, especially with noise and touch.

He used to have a lot of meltdowns when he was younger, usually about wearing new clothes and the amount of noise his eight brothers generated.

However, he was teased and pushed into masking nearly all the time, and made his whole personality about his ADHD, since that was what everyone accepted.

As he got older, he usually wrote off any autistic tendencies as either his ADHD or just “little habits” of his.

During his middle school years, he used energy drinks to bounce back from being exhausted every day after school. This would work, except those energy drinks would upset his ADHD, and would make it much harder to focus on even basic conversation.

After a while, he got such bad grades and had such a hard time making friends that Scout just stopped going to school altogether.

Baseball helped his focus, and the quick movement and thinking made a lot of sense to him. He never had to wait very long for the next development, and the instant gratification and community it provided supplemented what he never got at school.

With sports on his side, he rarely ever drank any energy drinks (the coach would never let them on the field), and he drank bucketfuls of water during every meet and game. Those teenage years were probably the healthiest he ever was.

However, with the amount of rumbles he got into with his brothers, and the turf wars that constantly raged in those neighborhoods, it was only a matter of time before his crime caught up with him.

After his first incarceration, he was booted from the team, which led to a downward spiral of unhealthy coping mechanisms - which included fighting someone tooth and nail whenever he could.

Even if he lost the fight, it not only catered to his impulsive nature and impatience, but also gave him roughly the same sense of friendship and camaraderie that baseball had.

One thing led to another, and by the time Mann Co. found him, Scout was a monster in hand to hand (and bat to bat) and had racked up quite the criminal record.

A perfect mercenary, ripe for the picking.

On The Team:

Scout very quickly adopted the “stupid, scrappy Boston boy” persona.

It was the only thing that made sense, and it kept him from having to try too hard in both the battlefield and socially.

Besides, that meant that he could be as silly, forgetful, and fidgety as he wanted, and no one would bat an eye.

And if he ever needed to take a break from the team, he figured everyone would appreciate the quiet.

The only thing that ever gave him away was him occasionally dissociating right when battle began, especially if the day had been stressful.

It was usually how he calmed down after a fight when he was young, but now he sometimes slid into that state when he was overwhelmed.

However, a yell from one of his teammates would usually snap him out of it.

Medic noticed this pretty early on, and wanted to look more into it, but Scout would keep making excuses not to get a mental examination.

He would blame it on zoning out, being tired, drinking too many Bonks - whatever it took for people to stop asking.

And, eventually, they did.

Even Medic stopped asking after a while - he couldn’t get a thing out of Scout.

This “try so little that when you do try it’s above average” charade worked for a long time. In fact, it went on for so long that Scout forgot how much he was actually capable of.

He began to internalize the stupidity, the exacerbation, the many comments on how dumb he was, everything.

The only time he ever gave his all was on the battlefield - moving fast, memorizing strategies, doing complicated footwork, knowing exactly how much force it took to crush someone’s skull with his bat.

That was one of the only things that he felt good doing, the only thing he could really work on without him being “found out.”

That and drawing, though he never showed the actual pieces to anyone. It was all stick figures and crooked lines with everyone else.

Sometimes, though, Scout wouldn’t be paying attention and he’d let something slip.

One time, Engineer was looking for his screwdriver, and couldn’t seem to find it anywhere.

Scout, not looking up from his comic, said, “Under the couch cushion, hard hat.”

Engineer bent down and reached into the couch, and his hand came back with his red and yellow striped screwdriver.

“Well I’ll be damned…”

At first Engineer thought Scout had just hid it, but Scout explained, still not paying attention:

“Last time we went out on th’ field, you had it on your belt, like always. But I was walkin’ by your workshop, you were usin’ a quarter to tighten a screw or somethin’. Your screwdriver had to be somewhere between the battlefield and your workshop. Engie, you’re like freakin’ clockwork. Every day, after a fight, you go to the kitchen, get a water, go to that couch, between the second and third cushion from the left, and sit there. Then ya go back to the fridge to get lunch and a beer, and ya go to your workshop until somebody needs you for somethin’. Your back loop in your tool belt is looser than all the others, ‘cause the screwdriver pulls against it when you sit down. The shank was probably in between the two cushions, and when you got up, it fell in. Demo, Pyro, and Heavy all sit on the second or third cushion at some point, so it got shimmied down. And since that’s the only time you sat down, ‘cause you woulda heard it if it dropped on the floor, and I…uh…”

“I’ll be damned,” Engie repeated, and felt the back tool belt loop. It was indeed loose.

Scout finally looked up, and realized what had happened.

“Uh, uh - l-lucky guess, huh Engie?”

Engineer squinted behind his goggles. “Yeah…real lucky…”

What ensued was Engie trying to get Scout to turn into a B.L.U Spy by chasing him around with his wrench. After a few good hits, though, Engineer saw that it was the teammate he knew and loved.

“But…how didja…?”

Scout threw his hand up, the other rubbing the back of his head where he’d been hit.

“I toldja Engie! Lucky guess! Jesus!”

Ever since then, Scout chose his words more carefully.

The Breakdown:

But, unfortunately, Scout could not pretend forever.

There was one week where Scout’s assignment count was so high that, if he wasn’t in a fight, he was on a mission.

Usually, Pauling wouldn’t trust him with so much, but no one else was available - or willing - to do the jobs.

Even when she was getting concerned about the amount of hours Scout was putting in, he blew it off.

“It’s no sweat, Miss Pauling! Their practically givin’ me the pay day. Those yahoos don’t know who they’re messin’ with.”

Over time, though, Scout had a harder and harder time staying focused and alert.

He’d sleep through alarms, stare off into space, zone out completely during briefing (not that he didn’t already do that), have a hard time hearing people in battle - even through his headset - ignore Spy’s taunts, and even forget to bring his bat onto the field.

Nothing seemed to help - Bonk!, warming up, stretching, cold showers, setting reminders, nothing.

And the team was starting to notice.

At first it was with the regular frustration - maybe Scout was just being lazy.

But as time went on, and his condition grew worse, their scorn turned into worry. They implored Medic to do something, but he had no way of getting through to Scout.

The doctor wasn’t above simply sedating him and dragging him into his lab for a check-up. However, he had a feeling that this was more than a physical issue.

The worst came when Scout was doing a routine battle with the B.L.U team on the field.

Everything had started out okay - he even remembered to bring his bad this time - but suddenly, everything was ear-splittingly loud.

He couldn’t focus on more than one sound at once, much less communicate the best course of action to his teammates.

He ended up hiding in a dilapidated shed, in a dusty, dark corner, somewhere between zoning out and panicking.

Scout’s head was in his knees, he was shaking, close to crying, when a sudden splitting of wood roused him.

A B.L.U Soldier had kicked his way into the shed, either having heard Scout or to hide from the other team.

Scout was stunned at first, but something of a blind terror filled him. He picked up his bat, screamed, and started pummeling the surprised Soldier.

At some point, he threw aside his bat and began to swing punch after punch, just like he did in his gang days when he had felt overwhelmed. Still screaming. Still crying.

By the time Scout had dissolved into a rocking, sobbing mess, the Soldier was long dead, with a gigantic pool of blood staining Scout’s shoes.

No one even knew where Scout was until a few hours later, when Spy heard a faint note of “Sexbomb” coming from Scout’s Walkman.

Scout had crawled into the shed’s framework, between the outer and inner wall, and was playing a specific verse over and over and over again, looking like he was on another plane of existence.

Spy immediately called for Medic, who had to lift Scout out by the underarms through a jagged hole in the side of the building. By then, the fight was over, so they could take him directly to the lab.

Medic’s Evaluation:

“I’m guessing zhis is your first mental breakdown?”

“Mental…doc, I ain’t crazy. Wait, you’re not goin’ to put me in a straight jacket, are ya?”

“If you’re not doing anyzhing later.”

Medic started to laugh, but quickly realized this might not be the time.

“No, Scout, everyvun has a mental breakdown at least vunce in their lives. It’s a…how do you say…a vake-up call of sorts. Vhen your body has no other options left.”

“Whaddya mean?”

“For zhe past few months, you health, both physical and mental, has been deteriorating. You eat less. You talk less. Your attacks are lackluster. You have bags under your eyes. You flinch vhen somevun yells for you. You stare off into space. Your routine, vhich usually has at least some changes, has become stringent, as if you can’t possibly expend any more energy into extra activities. You have avoided Demoman on zhe battlefield, even though you usually use him for cover.”

Medic flipped through his notes.

“I have pages and pages of your decline. However, as a scientist, I believe it is caused by zhe same source. And, though I usually respect my patient’s right to privacy vhen it comes to these sorts of matters, I believe you’ve been keeping something from me. Something that I should know as your general practitioner…your doctor.”

Scout shrugged, already shutting out the conversation.

Medic sighed.

“Maybe I tried to talk to you about zhis too soon. After all, you’ve just had a very sudden and exhausting episode. But…perhaps…”

Medic took a sheet of printer paper from his clipboard and a spare pen from his pocket.

“…zhere is an alternative.”

Scout was still unresponsive, but Medic continued.

“Zhere is a patient in my vaiting room vis a metal pole through the chest. It vill take me at least an hour to properly remove it, and a few minutes more to heal zhe area. Vhile I do zhat, vhy don’t you draw how you feel?”

Medic smiled.

“I know how much it grounds you.”

It wasn’t until Medic left that Scout actually picked up the pen, but he began drawing immediately.

For the first time in a while, he wasn’t trying to hide his strokes or scratch up the cleaner lines. No more stick figures. No more pretending.

Five minutes later, he was fully engrossed.

Medic started to walk in at one point, but, seeing how relaxed Scout was, decided to give him a few more minutes.

He deserved it.

#tf2 #tf2 scout #scout tf2 #tf2 headcanons #headcanon requests #tf2 mercs #autism #autistic community #autistic culture #red team #blu team #valve games

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yb-cringe · 3 years ago

Note

Give more roseblings /threat /j

Do you have perhaps some fluff?

fluff! mmm i mean… I’m writing a fic rn that’ll include fluff? if that counts? but if you want Instant gratification;

- Post-Empires roseblings is something i think abt a lot. They’re living in a village floating in the air where Gem impresses locals with fire tricks. She doesn’t wear her hat anymore. A lot to be said w that.

- I dont think either of them were the same after empires. like emotionally and physically. Fwhip was in the center of an explosion. He’s probably got a lot of burn scars and hearing issues. Gem in my mind has never recovered from being kidnapped and murdered, still having scars from that event.

- They’re very different from who they were. But for the better and for the worse. And a lot of days are tough but a lot of days are really good too. Gem doesnt have to run a school, Fwhip is taking it easy, they’re a lot more relaxed.

- A lot of mornings are spent making themselves busy (the roseblings are fast thinkers and intelligent ppl, they want to have things to do) but some mornings its quiet. Maybe it was a bad night maybe not.

- Gem can sit and read in a chair with a blanket over her and scars on full view because she’s not worried about saving face. Violet is outside flying idle circles through the sky. Fwhip is doing a puzzle or cooking or maybe tinkering something for fun this time. just to see how it works.

- It’s quiet, they’re not taking but its not uncomfortable. Its one of those silent mutual understandings that today needed to be softer than the rest.

- Fwhip knits, he forgot how much he enjoyed knitting. He makes another scarf at first for Gem but it continues. He makes the people in the village gloves and hats, sews small stuffed dragons for the kids. Its healing to create something that will never destroy. He makes gloves to cover his burnt hands but he finds out the kids in the village don’t care much. In fact they think its cool, and one time when he’s dropping off a bucket of various colored sweaters, he ends up taking an extra two hours to tell them all stories of Empires and the bravest people he ever met.

- Gem reads, and shes doing it for fun instead of study. She cooks sometimes, though knowing fire magic makes it considerably more difficult. She draws, and over time her skill improves to the point where shes comfortable showing it to others. Sometimes she sits in the park drawing every beautiful thing she can and someone gives her a free warm drink of tea to keep her fingers from freezing. (And one day she draws herself in her sketch book, and thats healing too)

#asks #roseblings #empires smp

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jiminrings · 4 years ago

Note

bestie what if jungkook finally finds out that jin’s friends with y/n 😭😭😭 he’d live in embarrassment for like eight business days

cold senior!y/n x stem major!koo masterlist :D

jungkook wants to crawl in a ditch for bADLY misjudging a situation he should’ve foreseen in the first place

yoongi has never been this dedicated to curing his hangover

well actually, nO ONE was really forcing him to pick you and taehyung up anyway

you didn't even ask!!! you could 10/10 just call for an uber to bring back taehyung to his place

maybe, just maybe, it's your fault that when yoongi asked you where you were when he's just woken up from a long night of partying, you mentioned "i'm with taehyung" and hospital and go home in the same sentence so that's why he went to overdrive

did he process what you said correctly?? probably not <3

that's the whole reason why yoongi had wasted sIX eggs this morning!!

he read somewhere in passing and watched song-hwa from hospital playlist enough to know that drinking eggs apparently helps you with your hangover and some other things

first, he wasted tHREE eggs because apparently, you're not supposed to drink the eggs !!! whisked !!! because it "defeats" the whole purpose

but it's still an egg whether you whisk it and no one's sane enough to drink raw eggs unprovoked

yoongi nailed it on the second try and he might have gagged a few times but the important thing is, his hangover is all-cured from the stress of digesting raw eggs :D so now he can safely drive at a borderline dangerous speed to pick you and tae up

"hey kiddo."

you peer your head up to see yoongi looking down at you, ruffling your hair in greeting

you've been held up here for less than five hours anyway, and it's not that yOU look tired,,, it's just that maybe you could use a little more sleep

lol you got yoongi thinking for a second that you're the injured on

"hey champ," yoongi acknowledges taehyung who's smiling from his bed, getting a forehead flick from his senior to which he rolls his eyes to

taehyung's... dressed up already in his normal clothes?

he already has his shoe on too so yoongi doesn't quite get why the two of you still aren't standing up

"you're lucky you just got a flick," you add helpfully, yawning in remembrance, "he punched my arm when i fell down the stairs at the dorm."

and wHY is this conversation all pointing to him now??

"because the both of you did stupid things that landed you in the ER!"

"i was just trying to see if i can go down the stairs three steps at a time!!"

"i just wanted to embrace y/n!!!"

very stoopid decisions if you ask him

yoongi shifts his weight from one foot to another, still a little lost because he's already here, and the two of you are all-ready to go, and he's not really a fan of the smell of the hospital —

oh wait

"has the bill already been settled?" he asks in curiosity, fishing out his wallet from his pocket

"mhmm. already did," tae answers instantly, nudging yoongi to put his wallet back where it came from

uhm wait maybe it's the eggs that are talking but uh

..... if the bill's already paid-

"then why are we all just sitting here?"

taehyung opens his mouth but he cLOSES it shut the moment it all clicks in his head, belatedly looking at you whose face screams conflict

yoongi's eyes turn to you on instinct, narrowing his eyes because you're choosing not to meet his eyes

"we're uh, we're waiting for jungkook to come back from the restroom."

...

.....

.......

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

yoongi's quiet, almost like he's calculating the variables in his mind

his mind's working harder rn that it did on his finals last week

"so jungkook is here?"

he gets war flashbacks every time he hears his name

he just shudders at the thought of him and he doesn't mean it positively lmao

"y-yeah! did i not tell you that at the call? he helped me get taehyung here," you scratch your nape in explanation, not accounting for the fact that yoongi still vERY much loathes jungkook when you called him

tae's not actually sure if he's helping you when he opens his mouth but he's trying his best <3

"yup! his shoulders were my crutch for like, three blocks. he also bought us food from the cafeteria while we were waiting to have my leg cast!!"

he glances at the fancy paper bags from the cafeteria downstairs, even some take-outs in there that makes it look all-stuffed

how in the living hELL is yoongi suppposed to feel about all of this :|

"i'm back! should i call an uber now? sorry, i bought these tiny hand sanitizers because they were having a sale at the pharmacy. y/n what scent do you-..."

jungkook happily chirps as he rummages through the bag he was given, preparing to scoop all the different scents to present them to you when he jUST had to look down at a familiar pair of shoes

as in the same black converse that he had the relief of looking at when someone was particularly asking him if he ever had a knuckle sandwich

"h-hi yoongi."

yoongi narrows his eyes at the kid who just squeaked, mouth puffed-up in disbelief that he looks like he's hiding a hamster in there

"bye jungkook."

yoongi uses tae as an excuse to shoo jungkook off as fast as possible but that kinda bites him in the ass

taehyung's going through a learning curve with his crutches and yoongi's making him wALK faster!!!! he still needs a little-

oh wait a minute :-)

"jungkook! help me walk to yoongi's car."

there is nO way that even taehyung's conspiring against him now

first jin and now taehyung????

tae solidifies his point by winking at yoongi, leaving you alone with him as you carry the paper bags of cafeteria take-outs

he's not exactly sure if he's helping you out at this situation, but once again, he's just trying his best and having fun alright!!! he likes to be included in these types of things hee-hee

yoongi has no choice now but to aLSO drive jungkook home, and the thought just makes him grumble from thinking about it

he'll have to disinfect his seats ://

"i haven't fully forgiven him if that's what you're thinking about," you chime in with his thoughts, looping your arm around his to help quell the visible stress in his mind

"it's your life," he puffs out because he doesn't want to meddle with you, consciously trying not to be overbearing when it comes to your choices

"i know. i just want you to know that your closest friend has the pride and the brains to not forgive an asshole, a goddamn junior, who said really mean things to her," you add thoughtfully and transparently, making yoongi break into a smile

ok that's got the heaviness in his chest a little lighter

"we should probably talk to each other one of these days."

you haven't had a heart-to-heart talk with yoongi for quite some time now because there weren't really any pressing issues of the sort to make the two of you talk face-to-face, but now it's probably needed

"we should."

jungkook has never feared for his life in a car ride tHIS much before

and he's even wearing his seatbelt!!!!

you're sitting at the front seat and he's with taehyung at the back, the latter dozing off because yoongi indulged his request for sleep music with soft rain on the background (it doesn't make yoongi sleepy) in an attempt to make him feel better about his leg

the one-hour loop's working wonders because you're passed out on the front seat too

normally, this would also make jungkook sleepy

but how the fuck can he sLEEP when yoongi looks at him through the rear-view mirror like an apex predator??????

kook could take the easier route of pretending to sleep so he could get to avoid yoongi's gaze

but then if he pretends to sleep, yoongi would clearly see how his eyeballs are still very much trembling even when his eyes are shut and he's the furthest thing from being relaxed

don't get him started on stoplights too!!! that was just pure torture because jungkook was conflicted to whether or not he should look at him rIGHT back

taehyung and jungkook live in the same building anyway so that's more convenient because he actually wouldn't know how to act if he had to drop j-name (he honestly can't digest saying his name) separately

now that that's all over, jungkook feels oddly fulfilled in a way...?

fulfilled in a sense that even if partially, he managed to earn your forgiveness

he feels like he could sleep a little more peacefully knowing that he atleast did something right this time!!!

which is for the exact reason, he's gonna gUSH about this to mr. kim from student affairs!!!

it's uh the weekend and he walked to campus because he thinks that admin works even on weekends (mad respect)

it's noticeably a lot more empty compared to weekdays and it's just filled with freshmen with their hectic class schedules and some students who are just fulfilling units to graduate early

jungkook walks straight to student affairs and it instantly looks empty, the only familiar face in there being namjoon

as in mr. kim namjoon who's wearing a windbreaker rn and whose hair is dEFINITELY blonde than the last time (two days ago) that jungkook saw him

he's not here to work isn't he

wait is he here to rob the place ???!?#?!?

"and what are you doing here?"

namjoon is as confused as jungkook, his mouth opening and closing in dumbfoundedness

"o-oh! is mr. kim here? w-wait, you are here. i mean mr. kim seokjin, sorry. did he-"

"nope," namjoon shakes his head, putting his bucket hat back on to leave jungkook all by himself

namjoon from work and namjoon every other time besides work are TWO different entities

"we just came here to collect our paychecks. you missed jin by ten minutes."

oh well

his momentum's not entirely ruined!! jungkook just has to cram thinking of a recipe to put in your lunchbox by tomorrow and jin is his tried and tested saving grace

technically, jungkook already saw you this morning because of the whole taehyung in a cast thing, but he feels as if that the take-outs from the cafeteria aren't gonna cut it

he still needs to step up his game of course :D

so that's why jungkook forcibly enlisted jimin's help to make fish and chips for dinner and put them in two lunchboxes

one for you and one for yoongi!! he didn't skimp on the fish nor the chips and made sure they're still toasty and in peak-flavor when he delivers it to your dorm

is he intruding? is this a bad time? he didn't exactly know how to process when yoongi told him that he wouldn't stop him from making it up to you

he just iSN'T sure if delivering homemade lunchboxes at 7 in the evening to your dorm is optimal

oh good!! the door's opening :D

"good evening!! i uhm-"

... what

.......... WHAT

what the fuck is going on

seokjin is suprised to see that the guy at the door isn't from the delivery place he ordered from two minutes ago

... he may be disappointed

but what he is amused about is the way jungkook looks beyond confused and intimidated

jin's in a sleep shirt and some boxers and jungkook doesn't kNOW what to feel about all the variables present that he's trying to connect

"you look like you're hiding a goldfish in your mouth."

seokjin remarks and yawns when a fraction of a minute passes and jungkook's still frozen in his spot, his eyes darting to what the kid's holding

"oh c'mon! one for y/n and one for yoongi? you trying to make it up to him too? and none for me?" jin jives him further, leaning against the doorframe with a sleepy smirk on his lips, "i practically live here, and i gave you the tonkatsu recipe, and i'm the one who doesn't get a lunchbox?"

he eventually saw this coming lmao

jin knew that someway somehow, jungkook would come to know that hE's your close friend throughout the whole time

that he's been the sort of middleman all this time but nah he's on your team of course <3

that all this whining he's done to him has all been in the name of you and seokjin had to sit through ALLLL of that with his fists clenched underneath the table to calm himself down

"oh my god," jungkook's literally WEAK in the knees as it all connects in his mind, the gravity of this scenario kicking down on him

he really iS such a fucking asshole

how did he not hypothesize this????? how wasn't he able to connect you and yoongi and jin as each other's closest friends???

his legs are literally about to give out so that's why seokjin snatches the lunchboxes from his hands

"i am so, so, so sorry mr. kim. i-i really didn't-..."

jin pays him no mind, opening the lunchboxes slightly as he whistles at the sight of fish and chips

meanwhile jungkook is so sO close to crying both in realization and very very slight relief because he knows atleast one of your friends doesn't hate him that much

the door opens wider, the creaking getting both of his and jin's attention

"what's taking you so long? is the-..."

yoongi switches his gaze between the two lunchboxes on jin's hand and jungkook sitting on the floor looking like he's had the shock of his lifetime

wow this is really amusing

this is in fact so amusing that yoongi can't help but to snap a picture for him and jin to laugh at later

"bye, jeon."

yoongi grabs one of the lunchboxes from jin's hand and goes back into the dorm, leaving jungkook alone with mr. student affairs

seokjin chuckles as he outstretches his hand to make jungkook stand up and shoo him off sooner than later so he wouldn't look like a pebble in front of your dorm

he pats him on the back, only having to pull him slightly to get him closer to his ear

"we're still mad at you kid, don't get it twisted. you're lucky i didn't expel you."

jungkook pales at the realization overall, only weakly nodding his head as he attempts to take in everything while trying to look at the bright side

seokjin cheerily closes the door, waving at him who looks so close to passing out from hock

"bye jungkook!!!"

#AHHHHHH WHAT R UR THOUGHTS WHAT DO YOU WANNA SEE NEXT #stem koo #jungkook imagine #jungkook imagines #jungkook oneshot #jungkook oneshots #jungkook au #jungkook college au #jungkook x you #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook headcanon #jungkook series

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milkdoie · 4 years ago

Text

types of fashion the 127 members would find attractive.

not requested!

dream version.

— TAEIL. neutral tones, pleated skirts, cuffed pants, oversized crewnecks, collared undershirts, long plaid flannels, elbow shirts, skinny jeans

i see his style as pretty simple with an appearance of layering here and there, an occasional pop of colour to brighten up the whole outfit.

he’d probably like if his s/o had a similar fashion taste as him so that they’d be able to subtly match with each other :(

— JOHNNY. dark/neutral/earthy tones, button ups, trousers, cuffed pants, blouses, trench coats, sweater vests, wide leg jeans, crossbody bags, puff jackets

his style in general (in my eyes) comes off as rather sophisticated with a little splash of skater boy; he includes many varieties into what he wears.

with that being said, he’d like if his s/o were to have at least a little bit of a similar fashion sense! he loves shopping and he’d love it even more if you guys could do it together and maybe even get matching hoodies,,

— TAEYONG. animal prints, bold colours, bucket hats, ripped jeans, elbow shirts, cargo pants, layered bags, monochrome, two toned pants, jean jackets, funky prints

taeyong is definitely someone who goes above and beyond with his fashion; colouring on his shoes, experimenting with different styles, and overall taking risks not a lot of other people would.

he’d want someone to take the same risks and not be afraid of what others may think! you guys would totally be that it couple everyone else wants to be.

— YUTA. dark tones, chains, techwear (kinda), graphic tees, elbow shirts, beanies, cargo pants, chunky shoes, baggy clothes, funky sweater vests, layered necklaces, ripped jeans

i see yuta as someone who prefers to dress in dark colours; he’s a pretty even mix of both skater boy and e-boy, who adds in a little bit of a soft aesthetic every now and then, but it’s rare.

he probably wants an s/o that dresses similar, just so that both your aesthetics don’t look crazy next to one another: an eboy walking around with a cute little cupcake isn’t something i think he would want.

— DOYOUNG. neutral/earthy tones, pastels, soft material, kirts, sweater vests, cuffed pants, wide leg jeans, layering, crewnecks, turtle necks, thin cardigans, oversized

he’s a very lowkey person when it comes to fashion, but not to the point where his clothes are boring. he doesn’t experiment often and he keeps a standard wardrobe!

for his s/o, he loves if they maintain a cute style! though he wouldn’t really have a preference, it’d be such a good bonus if they were to match his aesthetic.

— JAEHYUN. plain colours, leather jackets, lots of layering, dainty jewellery, bucket hats, oversized shirts, wide leg trousers, ruffle cardigans, puff jackets, skirts

jaehyun isn’t afraid to admit that his style is somewhat plain; he definitely knows that he isn’t as adventurous as some of his other members, but that’s completely okay!

he’d want an s/o that’s more bold than him, just so that everything balances out well. by bold, i mean only a little; not completely out there and experimental, just enough that you’re catching people’s attention so jaehyun can go, “yup, you see them? that’s my s/o!!”

— JUNGWOO. soft tones, sweats, chill prints, oversized flannels, collared undershirts, zip up hoodies, overalls, knit cardigans, skinny jeans

in my opinion, jungwoo’s style seems very laid back and comfy! he adds in simple pieces that allow his outfits to have a little ~spice~ but all in all, very chill.

he wants to be comfy with his s/o :( he’d really like the calming vibe you two would give off together with how chill both your aesthetics are; bonus points if your clothes are all soft so he can cuddle you.

— MARK. bright colours, streetwear, leather jackets, stripes, wide leg jeans, bucket hats w/ animal ears, long sleeved undershirts, jean skirts, overalls, chunky shoes

when i think of mark, my brain seems to instantly go to bright colours and happiness; that’s definitely the sort of aesthetic i associate him with.

that being said, i’m almost 100% sure he’d adore having an s/o that radiates that same energy! just two big balls of happiness hand in hand on their way to the playground :(

— HAECHAN. pastels, beiges, skirts, girly/cute, thin cardigans, sundresses, knitted crewnecks, sweater vests, minimalistic prints (argyle, plaid, floral, etc), ribbons

haechan, to me, comes across as someone who wears a lot of dark pieces — we see him wearing black, ripped jeans and a graphic tee all the time.

he probably wants someone who’s pretty much the opposite of his personal style. the diversity between both your aesthetics is what he finds most adorable; he loves how he comes across as the big strong boyfriend in your relationship.

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tealquacks · 4 years ago

Text

They Share a Kitchen 3: Grocery Gathering

Originally posted here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24317644/chapters/58625389

@alexalexisalexej

I’m sorry this took so long, but I hope y’all enjoy!

It had been a little over a week since Remus made the croissants, and the daily routines still hadn’t quite recovered. At breakfast, Virgil showed up ten minutes later than usual, and stood nervously in the doorway, checking to make sure nobody unexpected would be in the kitchen. Roman never came to visit the kitchen, but Patton brought him meals three times a day— 9:30 am, 1:20 pm, and 5:50 pm. Virgil would occasionally join him.

Patton and Janus still met for tea every single day, but they never stayed in the kitchen anymore. Patton would ask Janus to take walks with him. They’d stroll through Roman’s side of the imagination, then drink their tea and talk. The only reason Logan knew this was because Patton brought it up at dinner one night. Virgil left shortly after.

The only people who remained unaffected were Remus and him. They kept to their usual schedules. Except now Logan found himself staying up late to talk to Remus while he cooked. He had yet to make paella— something about wanting to save it for a special occasion.

Every day felt like a special occasion. Logan couldn’t help but stare at the charts he had made, one pre-Remus, and one post-Remus. Color coded and organized. Pristine.

“It’s surprising,” Logan had said at breakfast that morning, eating some waffles Patton had made, “that Remus spending one day in the kitchen threw all of our schedules into chaos.”

Virgil glared at him silently. Patton stared down blankly at his waffles.

“I don’t like him,” Patton murmured.

“You seem to get along with Deceit just fine,” Virgil spat, lip twitching in silent anger. Patton sighed.

“His name is Janus, Virgil. Be polite.”

“Why should I care?”

“Because it’s rude to call him Deceit— Logan, how would you feel if we only called you Logic?”

Logan sat straight. If he said he didn’t care, that would be mostly honest. If he said he did care, that would make it seem he had some sort of emotional attachment to his name. He swallowed.

“I don’t care either way. However, Janus now seems to prefer we address him by his real name. Besides, deceit is not his only function.”

Virgil rolled his eyes, staring angrily down at his plate of waffles. That was the end of the conversation at the breakfast table. Logan ate in silence, slowly sipping water out of a glass with a lemon on the rim.

Now, he sat at his desk. The clock said it was 2:28 pm. The kitchen would be perfectly empty, since Virgil and Patton no longer had their little talks in the kitchen. Logan didn’t know where they went, and he didn’t care to ask. Of course he worried about them, but he didn’t think where they talked mattered so much. He set down his pen, thinking of when Roman had run from the kitchen in horror, Remus doing nothing but sitting at the table.

Suddenly, someone knocked at his door. Logan stood from his comfortable office chair, and walked to the door. He adjusted his tie and smoothed his hair down before calmly opening it. That calm facade almost broke when he saw Remus on the other side, wearing a painfully bright yellow bucket hat, a fishnet shirt, and a green pair of cargo shorts. He had a bag slung over his shoulder.

“Hello, Remus.”

“You remember how you said I should make paella? Well I thought real long and hard and I thought that you could not only help me with the cooking but you could also help me with gathering the shit that goes in it! Like clams and mussels. One recipe says squid but I’ve honestly never cooked with squid and I’m not interested in fucking with that.”

Logan blinked, slowly trying to take in the information, and the sight of Remus before him. Remus never came to his room. Nobody did. It seemed like there had been an unspoken rule made, that he was never to be interrupted. Now the matter at hand.

“You want me to accompany you in collecting the ingredients?”

Remus nodded violently, causing the bright hat to flop off his head. He picked it up, and put it back on. Logan blinked.

“I’ll take that as a yes. And this involves going under the water?”

“No shit Sherlock! That’s where the mussels are! Unless you count these guns—“ Remus flexed his arms, a stunning smile on his face. Logan looked at the bag he carried, then to the yellow hat on his head.

“I think it would be best if you changed into something more… sensible.”

Remus wagged his brows, leaning up against the doorway.

“Oh don’t worry, I’m wearing a speedo under these shorts.”

“I meant the hat. It will make you very, very visible.”

“It’s okay,” Remus rebutted, “I think fish are colorblind. Maybe. Do you know?”

Logan gnawed on the inside of his lip. He didn’t know. He couldn’t say so, that would be seen as weakness. But Remus was… different, somehow, uncaring about strength and weakness. He took a slow, deep breath.

“I honestly don’t know,” Logan responded, “most fish only see two colors, but I’m unsure how many can see yellow. However, if your plans are to go underwater, it would be wise to forgo the hat.”

Remus shrugged, took off his hat, and tossed it into Logan’s room. It landed on the neat sheets of his bed.

“We won’t be in the water the whole time,” Remus said, “we still have to get other things? Like, erm, I don’t have the recipe on me but we’re almost out of apples, and honey— honey will be a bitch to get but you know what I have?”

Logan furrowed his brows, staring at the bag.

“A beekeeping suit, a smoker, and an apiary of some sort?”

“Nope! Just my morning star and overwhelming hubris!”

Logan didn't know what he’d expected. Of course Remus wouldn’t go about getting honey in any sort of logical way.

“There are other things we will need.”

“You have a special request?”

Logan shook his head.

“I don’t. But paella requires saffron,” Logan explained. “Saffron is derived from the stigma of Crocus sativus.”

“Huh? What’s uh….” Remus trailed off, snapping his fingers a few times. “What’s the common name of that?”

“They are also known as autumn crocus, or saffron crocus. Do you know where these flowers grow?”

Remus raised his eyebrows, tapping his fingers to one another— thumb to index, thumb to middle, thumb to ring, thumb to pinkie.

“Lemme think… I have a spice garden in my side, but I didn’t know that saffron came from a fucking flower! But I do have a bit of land I could… flowers. Goddamn! Saffron from flowers! That’s pretty cool! I have to ask— how did people think of putting it on shit?”

Logan suppressed a smile as Remus flapped one of his hands a little. It felt nice, being asked harmless questions, not being interrupted. Even then, he couldn’t help but wait for the other shoe to drop, for Remus to tell him to shut up. He took a deep breath.

“It is commonly believed that saffron originated in Greece, however most of it is grown in Iran, I believe.” He paused, giving Remus ample time to say something. Instead, Remus waved his hand at him.

“Well? Go on.”

Logan shifted from foot to foot.

“Saffron is incredibly expensive due to the fact that one flower only produces three strands when it blooms, and the flowers only bloom for one week each year. Saffron has been used and cultivated by humans for more than three thousand and five hundred years, and has been used not only as a seasoning, but also as a dye, fragrance, and medicine.”

Remus grinned, eyebrows raised.

“Cocaine used to be used as a medicine! Freud diagnosed it to some of his patients for depression, I think! Did you know that cocaine, like meth, can cause people to hallucinate vermin crawling under their skin? And they’ll scratch at their skins to get them out!”

“Ah, yes, delusional parasitosis, also called formication.”

“Fornication?”

Logan shook his head.

“I doubt formication and fornication could be mistaken for one another, unless ones idea of fornication is subdermal penetration.”

“Oh, talk dirty to me!” Remus cried, rolling his shoulders. Logan couldn’t stop his lips from twitching up into a small smile, but turned his expression back to a straight face as quickly as he could.

“So what are you looking to retrieve?” Logan asked. Remus reached into one of the many pockets of his cargo shorts, and pulled out a folded piece of paper. He dramatically unfolded it.

“Apples, honey, saffron, I guess, and mussels and clams and whatever else we may find. So is that a yes?”

Logan paused for a moment. He’d been to Roman’s side of the imagination, and the land was bright and beautiful, filled with fantastical creatures and lush landscapes. However, Remus was the opposite of Roman, or at least the bits of creativity that Thomas considered unpleasant enough to purge from his consciousness. So what did that include? The horrifying, the macabre, and the explicit. Dicks, drugs, and the disturbing. None of it could hurt him. And judging by the fact Remus sought him out to come with him, he wouldn’t even be threatened. As long as he was cautious, he would remain unharmed during their journey. That was reasonable enough to assume.

But what about the others? He would be expected back at dinner, which was at five pm. That would only give him two and a half hours with Remus, and time seemed to go much faster while around him, probably something to do with how Remus’ nature distorted reality around him, that reality including the way one would perceive time passing. Logan looked into his room. If he left the door closed, the others wouldn’t bother him. Patton would leave dinner outside of his door, he’d done it before, many times, but he wouldn’t come in. So he could miss dinner. If they asked questions, he could say he was busy. And they’d believe him.

Logan stared at the yellow bucket hat, garish and blinding on top of his sheets. He swallowed.

“Yes, I will accompany you.”

Remus flapped his hands expressively, smiling like a million and a half suns. He hopped from foot to foot, then did a little spin.

“Fuck yeah! I’ll let you get changed, meet me in the kitchen as soon as possible! It’ll be so much fun!”

Just as Logan opened his mouth to tell Remus he would be wearing his usual clothing, Remus sprinted away. He let out a deep sigh. He wore his usual outfit— black dress pants, a black polo, indigo tie, dress shoes. Comfortable and professional. If he were to open his closet, there would be exact clones of the exact same outfit. Of course there was always the clothing he wore on Halloween, but a bulky, velveteen coat would be even less practical. The Sherlock costume would be out of the question, and he’d long since gotten rid of his onesie.

So that left him in his typical outfit. However, the tie around his throat could possibly get caught and damaged. Logan touched his striped indigo tie, and slowly loosened it. Halfway through doing so, he realized he would look like an absolute fool without his tie. Even to Remus. Logan pulled the tie tight, so tight it almost choked him, and walked out of his room, slowly shutting the door behind him.

Logan silently crept through the hallway then down the stairs, making sure to skip the one squeaky step. If Virgil caught him with Remus, willingly spending time with him… well, he didn’t know how he would react. Virgil hated him, saw him as a nuisance, and there certainly was some history between the two of them. He had no clue what, despite the fact Virgil had once been a ‘dark’ side.

He stepped into the kitchen. Remus sat on the table, kicking his legs back and forth. Somehow, even wearing those ridiculous clothes, he looked like he belonged in the kitchen. Logan pushed his glasses up. Remus smiled at him, hopping off of the table and grabbing his arm in a tight grip. His hands felt burning hot.

“Are you ready to go?”

Was he? If the others—

“—Yes, I am.”

Remus tugged on his arm, and they both sunk down into the white tile of the kitchen floor.

A gust of warm, sweet air hit him in the face. Logan gasped at the sensation, staggering backwards. He tripped on a stone, and landed on his ass in tall grass. All around them grew wildflowers and grass, and the clouds gently danced in the sky. The flowers swayed in the wind, blossoms of all hues growing around them. Truly, a beautiful landscape. Strange.

“Is this your side of the imagination?” Logan asked, ignoring Remus’ offered hand in favor of standing up by himself.

“Yup! Wild and uncivilized. I had an idea for a monster— it’s an intelligent being that’s made of fungi that connects to the roots of plants, like how a brain makes neuron paths! Earth brain! We’re currently standing upon the brain of the smartest being in the imagination! Well, except for you, now that you’re here.”

Logan nervously looked down at his feet, face flushed. He really didn’t want to ask what the thing looked like, but his curiosity begged him to. His ego, meanwhile, preened at the small praise.

“Does it have a body?” Logan asked, “does it need to feed?”

“Yes to both questions!” Remus proclaimed, “The body is like. Laying down sort of? It’s like a big, smart pancake! And it eats! Don’t worry, it won’t eat us. Or any other side. Or cows since it’s lactose intolerant. But it won’t eat any sentient beings, like us sides! Except for Roman and his creations of course.”

Logan raised an eyebrow.

“Why only him?”

Remus twirled around, then pointed off into the distance. Logan looked to where he was pointing, and there in the horizon he spotted a massive palace, one he immediately recognized as belonging to Roman..

Remus opened his mouth, then suddenly shut it, a manic smile splitting his face.

“Look, here comes a unicorn! Oh, you’ll love this.”

And just as Remus had said, a white stallion with a gleaming horn pranced into the field of flowers. It wandered forward, then bent down and started to graze. As it opened its mouth to take a bite, the plants suddenly burst to life, wrapping around the unicorn. It fought and kicked as the thick grass dragged it to the ground— no, into the ground, as if the prairie earth had turned into quicksand. The unicorn whinnied and thrashed, until it was pulled fully under the ground, horn disappearing in the thick foliage.

“It absorbs its prey, like a protist.” Logan said breathlessly. If he could feel, he wouldn’t know if he felt shocked or impressed.

“Yeah! This land, in like a mile wide stripe, is the border between my land and Roman’s. And I don’t want anything to do with his shit. So anything that comes over here gets chomped up by Bartholomew!”

“Bartholomew?” Logan asked.

Remus crouched, patting the ground. He flopped onto his front, pressing a little kiss to the earth.

“It goes by Bart for short. And don’t worry, we had a conversation and it’s fine with it/its pronouns. Anyways what should we get first?”

Logan stared at the earth, shifting from foot to foot. Thousands of questions were bubbling in his head, but Remus had brought him to gather ingredients, not to ask questions.

“Apples,” he croaked out. Remus leapt to his feet, looking him in the eye.

“I said it won’t absorb you. It only eats Roman and Roman’s shit. And even if you did get eaten, you’d be able to sink out. You’re safe.”

Logan inhaled slowly, then let out a deep breath. He didn’t care if he was safe. He wanted to ask how Bartholomew dissolved its prey, what acid it used to break down prey, he wanted to ask about the ph of the soil—

“Let’s go get the apples,” Logan insisted.

Remus nodded.

“The orchard is like, ten miles away? I don’t know but I can teleport us. Will it make you puke? Since Jannie told me that when he and Patton were in the imagination they saw Roman and Roman teleported them away from him and then Patton puked his guts up!”

“I don’t puke,” Logan explained, “I’m not human, and I can’t pretend to be.”

“You are a part of a human. Anyways, let’s go!”

Remus grabbed his arm, and the world shifted around them, the ground fell out from under his feet— for an instant, he felt like he was flying and falling all at the same time.

Then the ground appeared again. Logan stumbled. The sun was filtered through the branches of tall trees, taller than any apple tree he’d seen. The ground felt hard, and thorny bushes grew between each massive tree. Strangely enough, even though the air felt warm, the branches had no leaves, as if winter was coming. Logan looked down at his feet. The earth was covered in a layer of frost. He crouched down and touched it, and his fingers brushed coarse weeds and warm frost.

“This is fascinating,” Logan said. He scooped a little bit of frost into his hand. It didn’t melt.

“How so?”

“Where do I start? The trees— they’re far too tall to be apple trees, yet they still bear fruit. And they have no leaves, which raises the question of how they perform photosynthesis. Not only that but the ground is covered in frost, and the frost is warm. The frost is warm, but it also doesn’t melt in my touch. Truly fascinating.”

Remus flicked his wrist, and a red apple the size of a fist fell into his palm.

“I like the way that frost looks, but I fucking hate the cold! So I made this place! And the branches are high so I can climb them and see out above the entirety of the land! But if you take issue with the height of the trees…”

Remus took a bite of the apple. He stomped his foot. Suddenly, one of the trees shrank, smaller and smaller, until it was the size of an actual apple tree. Ripe, beautiful apples hung off the branches.

“There,” Remus said, “that should be low enough for you to reach.”

“I’m not that much shorter than you,” Logan said, “do you have something to keep the apples in?”

Remus reached into the bag, and pulled out a wicker basket. Logan almost asked how he managed to do that, but realized it would be pointless. This was Remus’ land, it ran by his rules.

“I have a question!” Remus proclaimed.

“Go ahead,” Logan said, silently glad Remus had gone back to asking questions.

“Why are you so touchy about shapeshifting? Like. You never do it. I mean when the cameras aren’t rolling. You look exactly like Thomas and you never change it up!”

Logan froze. He pulled an apple from one of the branches and set it carefully in the basket.

“Patton is emotionally unstable. Virgil is a ticking time bomb. Roman tends to prioritize fantastical ideals over reality. Janus is level headed, but Thomas only just accepted him. And I’m unsure if he’ll ever accept you.”

Remus took another big bite of the apple.

“And what does this have to do with you not shapeshifting?”

Logan sighed.

“Thomas needs someone to be steady. Someone for him to rely on and trust no matter what the situation is. I don’t want to lose his trust.”

Remus giggled. Logan picked another apple.

“He trusts Patton even when he’s a fucking puppet. It’s not about trust, is it?”

Logan set the apple down in his basket.

“How many of these do we need?”

“Fuck if I know, fill the basket. But if it’s not about trust, then what is it about?”

Logan picked an apple, staring at the deep red color. He rubbed it against his polo, and he could see his reflection.

“Thomas hasn’t been listening to me as much as he should. I’m hoping that if I maintain the same appearance as him, he’ll be more inclined to listen to what I have to say.”

Logan stared at the apple. He shouldn’t be here. If the others found out he’d spent so much time with Remus, then what would they think of him? Would they consider him a friend anymore? That plus the fact he was picking apples, something they didn’t even need to do because they could be summoned with the snap of a finger. He didn’t need to eat. Logan set the apple in his basket.

Remus hummed. He flicked his wrist again, and apples began to rain from the sky. They struck the ground hard enough to bruise, and the noise they made was thunderous.

“Do you think the apple rain helps or diminishes the experience of apple picking?”

Logan stared up at the sky— cloudy, with a chance of apples.

“I don’t think catching apples in a basket counts as picking.”

“But it does count as fun!” Remus insisted.

“It’s not very effective.”

“Really now? Watch this!”

Remus pulled another wicker basket from the bag, and held it above his head. One, two, three apples hit the basket hard. The fourth made a sickening crunch as it hit the basket, and Logan flinched.

“What was that?”

“Some of the apples have bones!”

Logan furrowed his brows, looking at Remus. Another apple fell into his basket, thankfully lacking the crunching.

“An odd feature for an apple to have. What are the purpose of the bones? Structural stability? Do the bones assist in reproduction?”

“None of that!” Remus responded, “I just like the crunch! And Jannie likes the extra calcium!”

Logan nodded. Somehow, the fact that nothing made sense was logical. This was Remus’ land, it obeyed him. He plucked another apple from the tree.

“You know, Logan,” Remus said after a moment, basket held over his head, “I think you’re Eve.”

Logan raised his eyebrow.

“And what do you mean by that?”

Remus shrugged. Another apple landed in the basket with a crunch.

“Well, you see, Eve ate the apple from the forbidden tree, because she wanted to know the difference between good and evil, she wanted to see like god. In all honesty, I don’t think she was tricked. She knew what she wanted. She knew what she was getting into. She was just scared to be held liable. She was scared of the judgement.”

Logan plucked another apple from the tree. He had to stand on his toes to reach it. What Remus was saying made no sense. If God had dropped him in the garden and told him to not eat the apple, he would’ve followed the rules. And he certainly feared no judgement. Certainly.

“I don’t think so.”

“You don’t? So you would have rather stayed ignorant? Unharmed by what you don’t know?”

Logan froze. Remus continued talking.

“I remember Janus told me you really went off at him when he suggested that ignorance is bliss. So, I think you’re just like Eve. I mean, would you give up peace for knowledge?”

Logan plucked another apple. Of course he would. What he wanted more than anything was a life full of books and reading, knowing everything there was to know. Being an academic.

“That isn’t my choice to make. Thomas has chosen his path in life.”

“But what if it was your choice? Then what would you do?”

Logan picked another apple. The basket was close to full.

“I would choose knowledge. I have told you what I would do as a human, I would pursue knowledge above all. I wouldn’t be able to stop my pursuit. I would never be satisfied.”

Remus snapped his fingers, and the apple rain stopped as suddenly as it started.

“Wisdom cries out in the street; in the squares she raises her voice. Proverbs 1, verse 20. You’d never be able to stop learning once you started. Which I think is pretty cool!” Remus looked him dead in the eye, lowering his basket from his head. “You’re a passionate guy, Lo. Show it. I liked hearing you talk about saffron. And if they won’t listen? Then—“

“Then make them listen. Yes. You said it before.” Logan sighed. “I must admit, I don’t think I would be able to. Once they see me as a joke, it’s over. I’m only listened to when I’m being used to counter something that inhibits Virgil and Patton. For example, when you and Janus first appeared. I… I think we have enough apples.”

Remus took his basket, full of apples, and shoved it into the bag. Logan gave him his basket, and watched Remus make it disappear.

“If they won’t listen to you just because they see you act improperly, because they see you smile and feel happy, then they’re a bunch of hypocrites that I want to punt into the fucking sun.”

Logan took a deep breath in. A tiny little voice inside of him screamed to lash out, punch a tree in anger and frustration and pain, but that would be illogical. The apples had been picked. That was all. Now saffron, or honey, or whatever Remus would drag him to next. Then he’d be back in his room, asleep in his chair, then in the morning—

“I honestly don’t know why you care so much,” Remus said.

Logan exhaled.

“They’re all I have.”

Remus set a hand on his shoulder.

“Well, you’re have me now, too. Let’s go get the saffron!”

The earth suddenly fell out from under his feet. Logan couldn’t help the surprised yelp that escaped his mouth, hand flying out to grab Remus’ arm. Then as quickly as it disappeared, the earth came back, and his feet hit the ground. He yanked his hand away from Remus, brushing invisible dust off of the front of his shirt.

They had appeared in a desert. The sun beat down bright and strong, no clouds in the sky to inhibit it. His feet sank into the sand. A harsh wind kicked up the sand, and it flew around in a flurry like a blizzard. Logan gazed at the horizon. Nothing for miles and miles, just sand, low and level.

“Is this where you find saffron?” Logan asked. Remus crossed his arms.

“You should know better than anyone that flowers can’t grow in a desert! And besides, I just found out saffron came from flowers. So I have to grow them!”

Logan raised an eyebrow.

“Why bring us to a desert then?”

Remus smiled.

“Oh, you’ll see.”

Remus turned away from him. He raised his hands out, like he was conducting a band. He slowly breathed in. Logan felt the sand under his feet shift, pull together, and shake. Logan’s eyes went wide.

“What’re you—“

Remus turned back to Logan, eyes filled with fire.

“What is the best condition for crocuses, Logan?”

Logan swallowed, mouth suddenly dry.

“Saffron crocuses bloom in early to mid fall, and prefer sandy loam and lots of sunshine. They prefer soil with good drainage, as well as a pH range of 6.0 to 7.0. Crocus grow best in hardiness zones 5 through 8, not too hot, but not too cold either.”

A cool, fall breeze ruffled Remus’ hair and the fishnet shirt he wore. Logan raised an eyebrow. He couldn’t tell the temperature, but it certainly had gotten cooler.

“What is sandy loam?” Remus asked, knocking Logan’s train of thought off the tracks.

Logan paused for a moment. Remus really wanted to know. But why? The imagination didn’t follow the laws of physics or nature, why would he want to know? He said he liked hearing him talk. But did he?

“Sandy loam is soil that, while containing silt and clay, has primarily sand in it. It is a good soil for gardening because of its draining abilities… Does it matter?”

Remus tilted his head.

“Well, if you were to be making a big ol’ crocus field, you’d care about the soil! Everything about it! So since it matters to you…”

Remus smiled brightly, and grabbed Logan’s arm, tugging him. Logan let himself be pulled, finding himself right in front of Remus, stumbling as the ground shifted under his feet. Bright sand melded together and changed, turning into dark, rich earth. Logan knelt, scooping a little bit into his hand. Sandy loam.

The soil in his hand moved, like a miniature earthquake. A small, green sprout rose from the dirt, reaching towards the sun. Delicate green leaves grew, and so did a small, purple bud. It opened. Vibrant amethyst petals showed themselves to him, but so did three red stigma. Saffron.

“My god,” Logan said, “that was amazing!”

Remus snorted out a laugh.

“What, you've never seen Roman do something like that?”

Logan shook his head. Roman preferred to run his side of the imagination like an actual human kingdom, planting saplings and waiting patiently for them to grow. Sometimes, he’d see Roman in the wheat fields, harvesting wheat with a large iron scythe, just how a human would do. He let everything take its time, and grow at its own pace.

“Really?” Remus crowed. “Well then— watch this!”

Remus cackled, and snapped his fingers.

The ground shifted under Logan’s knees, and hundreds of little green sprouts poked out from the dark earth, basking in the gentle sunlight. Glorious purple buds opened to reveal perfect crocuses, each with three sprigs of saffron inside. Logan gazed out to the horizon. The desert had turned to a field of purple, as grand and never ending as a sunset.

Logan’s jaw dropped open in shock. For miles and miles, nothing but crocus…

“Amazing,” Logan whispered, “absolutely amazing.”

With a thud, Remus sat down next to him. He leaned forward, and tore one of the crocuses from the ground, holding it up to Logan. Then, the petals shuddered, as if blown by an invisible wind, merging and shifting until they had formed a purple frog.

“Look,” Remus exclaimed, “it’s a croak-us!”

Logan couldn’t help but snort with laughter, covering his mouth quickly. His eyes went wide. Remus didn’t seem to have any intention of poking fun at him for laughing, but it was better safe than sorry. Though he couldn’t help but think of Remus, sat at the kitchen table in nothing but an apron, saying that he’d beaten him fair and square, and could do so again. Logan lowered his hand from his mouth, chuckling quietly. It was a pretty funny pun.

"Yes," Logan opened his mouth, closed it, then exhaled. "'It's quite ribbit-ing."

Logan looked up, meeting Remus’ eyes. There was no judgement, no smugness. Remus looked absolutely fucking delighted, a manic glint in his eyes.

"You've toad the line!” Remus cackled. Logan laughed quietly, staring right at the little frog in the flower, trying to think of another frog pun. His brows furrowed in thought.

"Did you know that in South America, there's a species of big frog with enough poison to kill two thousand men?” Remus said, interrupting Logan’s train of a thought.

"I don't believe that's true. The golden dart frog grows only up to five millimeters, as opposed to the goliath frog, which can grow up to three-hundred and twenty, and weigh just over four pounds."

“Damn, you know a lot about frogs,” Remus said, “it’s pretty cool!”

“I researched them extensively after Patton turned into one, just in case another problem arose.”

They stared at each other, much too long to be considered normal. Remus's lips twitched. The silence grated on Logan’s nerves. Had he said something wrong?

“Would you like to play a word association game?” Logan nervously asked.

"Part two: Electric Boogaloo!" Remus exclaimed, startling the croak-us enough to hop into the fields of its former kin.

He brought his hand down onto Logan's in a low five, purple petals smeared onto his palm. Remus was still grinning, parts of his moustache standing on end, like he'd been shocked. Electric Boogaloo. Remus sat, cross-legged in the new soil so they were face to face. Logan brushed against him, and felt the burn of a spark go out on his leg. Electric Boogaloo, again.

"Vampire,” Remus said.

Logan’s mind jumped to when Virgil had dressed as a vampire for halloween.

"Halloween."

“Black?”

"Orange."

"Bok choy!” Remus chirped.

Logan paused. What led to that connection? Remus shrugged.

"Plant,” Logan said, brushing off his previous confusion.

"Maple.”

"Canada.”

"Pancakes."

"Syrup."

"HONEY!"

Remus snapped, loud as a cracking whip. Logan watched him shake a freshly printed page he clutched in his hand, peering at it intensely.

“It says on our list that we need honey!”

Logan looked back out at the field of crocuses. Every single one of them had three sprigs of saffron inside, red and beautiful. He could smell it, the aroma beautiful and heavy.

“We have to harvest the saffron first, for the paella. How much will we need for the recipe, Remus?”

Remus sighed.

“Harvesting saffron ourselves sounds like a big waste of time. Don’t you think?”

Logan brushed his fingers on the warm, rich soil. He imagined Remus and him in the field of saffron, carefully plucking saffron from the flowers, putting the delicate threads in jars to be dried later. Then he could ask all the questions in the world about the soil, the saffron. He could spend hours talking to Remus about everything he wanted to. He wanted to say so much. And yet his mouth wouldn’t obey him. Remus wouldn’t tell him to shut up, so what was stopping him? Nothing was stopping him.

“Yes,” Logan said, “it would take up a good deal of time. But honey won’t take that long, will it?”

“I don’t even need honey,” Remus admitted, “I just wanted an excuse to spend time with you without any of the others popping in or having to wait until like five am. You’re the functional one, you gotta get some sleep.”

Logan’s eyebrows shot up. Oh. Remus’ words slowly went through his head. His heart did a backflip— even though that certainly was anatomically impossible— and his lungs stopped taking in air.

“Yeah,” Logan said, voice quiet, “I do. I mean— uh. Spending time with you is much better than laying unconscious for eight hours.”

“As if you get eight hours of sleep,” Remus said, a bright smile plastered on his face.

“So. We don’t need honey?”

“We still need mussels.”

“Mussels, yeah,” Logan said, breathless, standing up, “lead the way.”

“What about the saffron?” Remus said, raising an eyebrow. He stood.

“...Well. We can always come back for that some other time.”

Remus nodded, a bright smile plastered on his face.

“Yeah, some other time. Well then. Off we go!”

Remus grabbed Logan’s arm, and the world fell away from them. Logan closed his eyes.

Waves crashed gently. He could hear them, and feel a cold sea breeze blow on his skin, ruffling his hair. He slowly opened his eyes. Apparently, night had fallen while his eyes were shut, and moonlight bathed everything in a pearly pale light. The air smelled like salt. Both of his feet were solidly on a wooden dock. Remus’ hand still felt warm on his arm.

“How long did that take?” Logan asked. The sun had still been up when they left.

“It’s always night here,” Remus explained, shifting his weight from foot to foot, “I like it better that way. Look at the beach and you’ll see why.”

Logan turned his head. The moon shone gently on the black sand beach, but more impressive were the waves— each foaming, rushing wave carried with it an ethereal teal glow, like all the stars in the sky were gently ebbing with every wave. Logan stared at the water, eyes wide.

“The waves glow like that because of an algal bloom, right? And when the water moves it causes the algae to glow. It is absolutely wonderful, Remus.”

Remus smiled, running his hand through his hair, almost as if he was shy.

“Thanks, this place is one of the first places I’ve ever made, and the first one I felt satisfied with. The rest of this place I like to keep constantly changing, but not here.”

Remus walked to the end of the dock. He calmly set his bag down, then yanked off his fishnet top, holding it in his hand. Logan watched his hands undo the button of his shorts, then watched Remus toss his shorts onto the dock, revealing the bright green speedo he wore, leaving nothing up to the imagination. Remus raised his arms out like Christ on the cross, looking up at the full moon. Then he tilted backwards, gracefully falling off the dock, and landing in the water with a loud splash.

Logan slowly walked to the end of the dock. He knelt, knees pressed against wet wood. Even through the glowing waves and the dark water he could see Remus’ back, his legs, pale skin disappearing quickly underwater.

Logan’s hands clasped the indigo fabric of his tie. Then they drifted down. He sat down, cross legged, staring down at the water. Slowly, he took one shoe off, setting it carefully behind him. Then the other. He pulled off his socks and placed them in his shoes. Then his pants, leaving him in boxers, his shirt, and his tie. He took off his glasses.

His hands clasped his tie again. He gazed at the water, dark as the night around him except for the beautiful waves and the occasional glimpse of Remus’ skin. Then he raised his head, staring out into the distance. He could see for miles. Empty, dark ocean, with no land in sight. Slowly, he loosened the knot. His hands shook.

Remus wouldn’t care. He wouldn’t care if he took off his tie. He wouldn’t see him as less. He would see him as Logic, as Logan. Nothing less.

He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath of cold, salty air. pulled off his tie, setting it with the rest of his clothing. Before he could lose his nerve he yanked his shirt off, threw it haphazardly in the pile of clothing, and ran to the end of the dock. He jumped. Time seemed to slow as he rushed through the air, flying to the water—

He landed with a loud, graceless splash. The water around him lit up like fireworks. Surprisingly, the water felt warm compared to the bite of the wind. Logan couldn’t tell where Remus was, he just knew he was underwater with him now. Logan kicked and paddled until he reached the surface, gasping for breath. A sharp laugh escaped him. His heart pounded in his chest— he could feel it beating, even though he knew he didn’t need one to function. The waves rushed over him, bright as all the stars.

Logan treaded water in place, then let himself tilt back, until he floated on his back. Waves gently rocked him, and he let them. What had he been so scared of? He laughed again, much quieter, listening to the waves rush to shore.

Next to him, he heard Remus surface, taking a deep breath.

“You good?” Remus asked. Logan turned his head a little, looking at Remus. His hair was soaked, plastered to his forehead.

“Perfectly fine,” Logan responded, “and you?”

Remus didn’t answer, just smiled and sunk into the water. The wind blew cold over his skin, sending a shudder up his spine. Remus had to be swimming under him, collecting the mussels he’d use for the paella. Logan couldn’t help but wait for the time they’d be able to spend in the kitchen, knees bumping, or the time they’d spend collecting saffron, the sun shining on violet flowers in a golden gleam.

Logan breathed out slowly. There was something with Remus that made all his thoughts become portraits. Cohesive, yes, but coated in a loveliness that never used to be there. It might have to do with the imagination. It might not.

The waves beneath him swelled, then gently ebbed out. Remus surfaced again, treading water as easily as breathing. He’d changed his fishnet top into a net, which was full of mussels and what looked like clams, maybe? Logan couldn’t tell.

Remus gingerly grabbed Logan’s arm. The waves under them swelled.

“Let’s go back up onto the dock,” Remus whispered.

Logan nodded. Within the blink of the eye, they both appeared on the dock, both of them soaking wet. Remus shook his head like a dog, water flying everywhere. Logan raised his hand to keep the water from hitting him, even though he was already absolutely soaked. Remus set the bag of shellfish on the dock with a clatter.

He calmly took one out of the net, and Logan realized they were oysters, not clams. Remus grabbed his bag, unzipping one of the pockets and pulling out a knife. He held the oyster carefully, curved side flat against his palm, and wiggled his knife into the hinge between the shells. Remus’ hands were surprisingly steady, even as the knife slipped between the shells and the oyster popped open. He scraped the knife against the inside of the shell, freeing up the meat, then knocked the oyster back like a shot.

Silently, he offered Logan the knife. Their fingers brushed as Logan took the hilt of the knife, grabbing an oyster from the net. He mimicked Remus’ movements, trying to slip the knife between the two shells. Remus chuckled, and grabbed the hand that held the knife.

“You have to press harder,” he said, “you can’t finesse your way into the shell, you have to put some oomf behind it. If you don’t, it’ll never ever open up.”

Logan swallowed. He felt oddly lightheaded as Remus guided the knife between the shells of the oyster, helping him push the knife into the space between the shell, easing the hinges apart with the flat of the blade. The shell slipped into the cup of his fingers, just so, supported by the weight of Remus's hands over his, thumb pushing against his, twisting the hinge open with a pop.

"See?" Remus was grinning, that ever-present expression of glee, and Logan tore his eyes from it to the movement of hands again, guiding the knife under the oyster to lift the flat shell off.

"These would be good for the garden," Logan blurted out. Remus looked up, just as attentive as he'd always been, and the words caught in his throat for a second. "For- for the soil, oyster shells, when ground into powder, have been shown to improve soil pH and nutrient status, strengthening cell walls due to an increase in calcium, overall resulting in healthier produce.”

Remus tilted his head. Logan’s face flushed.

“...I know you employ an extraordinary method of growing and cultivating, and therefore have no need for this knowledge, but tossing them aside or simply letting them disappear seemed.. unnecessary."

"I think you need to stop worrying about what I need to know, and start asking what else I'd want to hear,” Remus said with a grin, “But it is flattering that you think it's extraordinary. Now why don’t you try the oyster?”

Logan stared at the meat of the oyster.

“I just… drink it?”

“Like a shot, yeah.”

Logan slowly brought the oyster to his mouth. Slowly, he tilted his head back, opening his mouth.

The taste made his eyes go wide. The meat of the oyster was plump against his tongue, but it tasted like coppery brine. He swallowed it without chewing, since he hadn’t noticed Remus’ jaw moving. The coppery taste lingered on his tongue. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath of fresh, ocean air.

“Why don’t you stay here?” Remus suddenly asked. Logan’s eyes shot wide open. He had another oyster in his hands, wriggling his knife between the shells.

“I’m sorry, what?”

Remus looked down at the oyster, face surprisingly blank and unreadable.

“You spend all day in your room except for when you come out and cook with me. I have a feeling that I almost wasn’t able to get you out of your room today. So why don’t you just stay here? I can make you a castle or a cottage for you to study in, and you won’t have to worry about the others bothering you. And you’ll be able to come here whenever you want. So what do you say. Will you stay?”

Logan stared down at his hands. He could. He could say yes, and watch Remus make him a place to stay, a place that was truly his. No worries of anyone walking in and seeing him disheveled, just himself and Remus.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t say yes. I’m needed with the rest of the sides, and Virgil may see my leaving as betrayal, or a sign of untrustworthiness. I need to keep them on my side. I need them to trust me, to listen to me.”

Remus still was fixated on the oyster. The knife slipped between the two shells, and it popped open. Remus’ brows rose.

“I still think you’d enjoy it here more than you would crammed in your little room all the time. And I don’t know how to tell you in a way that’ll make you listen, but they need you more than you think they do. You are all of Thomas’ cleverness and wit. Where would he be without you? Creativity is nothing without knowledge— whether its working with or against knowledge.”

Logan shook his head. Remus slowly reached for Logan’s hand. Logan let him take it, pull his fingers open, and press something into his palm. It felt like a pebble. Logan felt his hands ball into fists.

“Roman seems to mostly work against me, but at least Thomas heeds his words. I really can’t stay here. I…. I should honestly go. It’s late.”

Logan awkwardly stood, fists still clenched. Remus looked up at him with wide eyes, brows furrowed.

“Are you sure?”

Logan opened his mouth, but no words came out. A part of him still wanted to stay, to sit with Remus at the dock and watch the glowing waves, to eat oysters with him. He closed his mouth and nodded. Remus sighed.

“Alright. I’ll teleport you and your clothes back to your room. Just… you’re welcome back whenever you want. Don’t be a stranger, Logan.”

Logan smiled. He wanted to say something, but the next thing he knew the world vanished around him. Then it reappeared, and he saw the door to his room. There was a bowl of spaghetti in front of it. It had long grown cold, but Logan picked it up anyways, and stepped into his room.

He set the bowl of spaghetti on his desk, and haphazardly tossed his clothes on the floor. He felt soaked to the bone, and started to shiver a little, even though he knew he couldn’t feel cold, couldn’t feel pain, couldn’t feel the cocktail of conflicting emotions inside of him. With a sigh, he sat in his office chair. His hands, still curled into fists, shook slightly. What had Remus given him? Slowly, he relaxed his fingers.

Resting in his palm was a round, black pearl.

Logan stared at the black pearl in his palm. A million different thoughts rushed through his head, most of them strange and illogical. He could go back to the pier and watch the luminescent waves, or help Remus grind the oyster shells down into fertilizer. And they would eat oysters together until they had enough pearls to make a necklace, a necklace he’d wear wherever he went.

Then what?

Then Logan would wear the necklace, and someone would ask where he got it from.

This was for the best for Thomas’ stability. It had to be.

Logan let his head flop against the headrest of his office chair, and shut his eyes, hoping sleep would take him.

He never let go of the pearl.

#Sanders sides #Logan sanders #remus sanders #intrulogical #sanders side fic #they share a kitchen #patton sanders #virgil sanders

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purplesurveys · 2 years ago

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1494

Who were you last on an elevator with? Bea and Liara when booked a hotel for an event we were having at a nearby venue the next day. I come bearing a recent story that involves an elevator though – so a few weeks ago I had to oversee a photoshoot, and the studio only had basement parking so I drove over there to park my car. There was an elevator that could take me to the ground floor so I hit the going-up button and waited, but then while waiting this...really...creepy guy?? walked towards the elevator to wait alongside me. I still don’t know if I had been overreacting but I was simply creeped out from the start, and then he started mumbling to himself and that’s when I said fuck it, did a whole bit about pretending to have forgotten something, and calmly walked back to my car.

Anyway so I get in and peer from my rear window the best I can while staying hidden, and I see the elevator open and he gets inside. But then he doesn’t close the doors and the elevator stayed open...and it stayed open...and it stayed open. He was standing with the door open for literally half a minute and all the while he was just staring at my fucking car. Eventually it closed and he disappeared forever but I’m just glad I made that decision to walk back to my car. Fuck knows what could have happened once those doors closed with me inside. I let it pass for about a minute or so, and I ended up taking the stairs.

Do you know anyone who is missing a toe? Hmm. I don’t think so.

Do you know anyone that has a black belt in karate? I probably do. Karate and taekwondo are kind of common sports here, especially for kids.

Would you rather take the elevator, escalator, or stairs? It depends how far up I’m going. Generally I avoid going up stairs, but if I was only going like one or two levels up I’d take an escalator. For much higher levels I’d look for an elevator.

Do any lights stay on while you sleep? I will sometimes fall asleep with my desk lamp on, but for the most part I prefer to sleep in a pitch black space.

Who is usually the first person to text you in the mornings? Nobody regularly texts me in the morning. Sometimes Reena will wake up earlier and send a BTS update in our group chat if there’s anything going on hahaha, but otherwise no one sends me anything.

If you have a notepad in your phone, what do you use it for the most? 98% of my notes at this point are stuff I write down from work calls/meetings.

Who is the last child that you took a photo with? I can’t even remember. I don’t usually take pictures with kids.

What color is the menu button on your phone? My phone is touchscreen, but the in-screen widget I press to go to the menu is grey. How often do you wear hats? Pretty often. I like putting on my bucket hats when I head out; the only time I don’t is if I’m headed to the office.

When is the last time you used a bobby pin? I want to say it was August 2020 when I wanted my family and myself to have a makeshift photoshoot at home for my pandemic graduation.

Is it more common for your phone’s ringer to be on or for it to be on vibrate? It’s on silent most days because I hate it when it rings while I work. Vibrate is never on because to me it gives off the same vibe as a ringtone; I’ve always been content with my phone just lighting up when it gets a new notification.

How many people live in your house? Five, including me.

How many bedrooms does your house have? Four.

How and where did you get your most recent cut? All over my arms. Playing with Cooper, hahaha.

Do you enjoy leaving voicemails? No, I don’t think that feature has ever been available where I’m from. If it is, I’ve seen literally nobody use voicemail. A common question: What are you listening to? I have a Run BTS episode in the background.

Would you ever get a nature tattoo? I'm not necessarily against it, but it'd have to mean something to me. < Yeah, exactly. Right now I have no reason to get a nature-themed tattoo.

What kind(s) of animal(s) do you have, if any? I have two dogs. Kimi is also a permanent fixture in the living room through his memorial box with his ashes, fur sample, and pawprint mold inside.

Backstreet Boys or N*Sync? I don’t have a preference; I never really listened to either.

What is in your pockets right now? No pockets at the moment.

Will you be moving soon? Nah, I don’t have plans to.

Have you ever been in a fist fight? Nope.

If you could get any piercing, what would it be? Nose stud or a lip ring.

Do you know anyone that is a compulsive liar? Don’t think so.

Is anyone in your family sick at the moment? I know my dad caught a fever at the start of the week, but I think he’s doing a lot better now. I’ll have to check on him.

Where do your siblings work, if anywhere? They aren’t working, but my sister is graduating college soon and I can’t wait to see where she’ll end up being and what she’ll be doing!

What is your worst habit? I never wash the dishes immediately after finishing my food.

What is your favorite cereal? I don’t really eat cereal. I know they get soggy, but eating them with milk as it is, like right off the bat, already feels like such to me and I’ve always found it gross. Where is your favorite place to buy groceries? S&R because the place is huge and has lots of imported stuff.

Who do you generally talk to the most? If not my workmates, probably Angela.

Have you ever had a crush on someone of the same gender? Sure.

Do you enjoy painting? I do, as long as I have a template to follow. I never paint from scratch.

When did you receive the oldest voicemail in your phone? I don’t have voicemail and have never used it.

Do you have any locked texts messages? I’ve never done that either and I’m not sure any of my apps have that feature.

Do your two favorite colors compliment each other? Uhhhh I don’t think mustard yellow and pastel pink work well together, no.

What store do you shop at the most for clothes? H&M or whatever tiangge I see at the mall.

Is anyone saved in your phone under a nickname? Nah. Angela’s has a bunch of emojis alongside her name but that’s the most playful it gets in my contacts.

Which company provides your car insurance? I’m not even sure it has insurance. In any case my parents take care of everything that has to do with my car since it’s technically under their name haha.

Whose birthday is coming up? My mom’s, sister’s, and Angela’s, but these aren’t til September.

Have you ever ordered from an informercial? Nope.

Do you believe that everyone has secrets? Of course?

Is there an artist or group that you didn’t used to like but has grown on you? LOL BTS. And like the entirety of K-pop in general.

When, where, and why did a needle last pierce your skin? My arm, for my Covid booster last February.

Can you sleep without a sheet on your bed? No. I imagine I’d feel super uncomfortable.

#survey #surveys

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roboticonography · 4 years ago

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Fic Preview: Except Perhaps in Spring

Dear @formerlyir,

I’m your Secret Santa! I’ve so enjoyed getting to know you in 2020, and I look forward to many more chats and Snippets Mondays. I guess now you know why I was so cagey with you about what I was working on for the exchange! ;)

It’s been a lot of fun working on a story just for you, but December has been an eventful month for me, and in the end it got away from me a little. So here’s a taste of your story, “Except Perhaps in Spring.” I hope you have as much fun reading it as I’ve had writing it.

Happy New Year!

=======

As she would maintain for many years afterwards, Peggy hadn’t wanted to go to the pub in the first place.

It wasn’t that she disapproved of such amusements. She liked a stiff drink as much as the next field agent (though not, perhaps, as much as Colonel Phillips, who kept a bottle of bourbon at the back of his middle desk drawer for “medicinal purposes”).

And she appreciated that the boys from the 107th invited her along on their madcap outings—not out of a misguided sense of chivalry, or some crack-brained scheme to charm her out of her knickers, but because they genuinely enjoyed her company.

Along with their fearless leader, the three biggest troublemakers of the group were in London for one night to accept an award on behalf of the 107th. Dugan, Barnes, and Morita had been invited to accompany Steve to the award ceremony, but not to any of the PR opportunities that followed. While Steve spent his afternoon posing for pictures with various elected officials, his boys would spend theirs loitering around the SSR’s London headquarters, trying to convince Peggy to come out on the town with them that night.

Peggy was in no mood.

It had been raining in sheets all day, and her umbrella had already given out on the walk in. The cavernous underground war room was freezing: everyone was wearing scarves and gloves at their stations.

Peggy’s office—little more than an alcove with a door, really—had sprung a leak during the night, which meant she’d arrived that morning to find a stack of finished paperwork completely drenched. Aside from shoving her desk against the wall and putting a rubbish bin under the steady drip, there wasn’t much to be done.

Thanks to some especially severe belt-tightening, there was no comfort to be had even in a hot drink: the coffee was dismal sludge, the tea in the communal bucket had been stewed to within an inch of its life, and there was, naturally, no milk or sugar to be found anywhere on the premises.

Peggy had spent most of her day hunched over her typewriter, re-typing a twelve-page report that Colonel Phillips would undoubtedly skim for two seconds before it would disappear into the SSR’s vast storehouse of files, never to be seen again.

So when the invitations started, Peggy’s polite-but-firm no, thank you was already locked and loaded, and her aim was true.

She hadn’t counted on the boys being either bored or bold enough to try their luck again as a trio, wedging themselves into her office three abreast, with Dugan as the filling in the sandwich.

“I said no, gentlemen.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard this song before,” said Dugan, grinning.

“Me too,” chimed in Barnes. “‘Her lips said no, but her eyes said—’”

“On your bike,” said Peggy curtly.

“She’ll change her tune when we tell her who’s coming,” said Dugan. “Won’t she, boys?”

His companions gave solemn nods.

“Yep,” said Morita, drawing the word out. “She’ll come around pretty quick when she hears that we convinced him.”

Peggy glared at each of them in turn.

“All right,” she said at last. “Who is it?”

“Me, of course,” said Howard, shoving his way in between Morita and Dugan. “See? I told you she’d be excited.”

“Thrilled,” Peggy deadpanned.

“I think she thought we meant someone else,” said Barnes.

“Someone taller,” Dugan agreed.

Howard feigned indignance. “Taller, maybe, but I can guarantee I’m a better dancer. Did you know there’s a leak in your ceiling?” he added helpfully.

“Right. All of you, out.”

The unholy barbershop quartet reluctantly took its leave.

It wasn’t the first time they’d implied that there was something between her and Steve. She didn’t appreciate them doing it in earshot of her office colleagues, though she was certain there must be talk already: Steve’s last visit to HQ had ended in a legendary bust-up between them, after she’d interrupted him with Private Lorraine, mid-embrace.

She wasn’t only angry that he’d kissed someone else. She was angry that he’d kissed a woman he barely knew, after he’d made himself out to be a different sort of man. She’d felt foolish for believing him, for liking him, when he’d told her he was waiting for the right partner.

She was angry that he’d had the nerve, afterwards, to try and brush it aside, pretending it hadn’t meant anything. If a kiss like that didn’t mean anything, how many others had there been? And how many more would there be while they were apart?

(And, though she’d never admit it, she was angry that Steve appeared to be a decent kisser.)

Then, to add insult to injury, he’d brought up Howard’s one-sided flirting—as though she had any control over the invitations and innuendo men chose to pitch at her day after day, as casually and aimlessly as they dropped their litter in the street.

If that was all it took to drive Steve into the arms of another woman, then perhaps it was best that they remained separated by the English Channel for the time being.

Peggy applied herself to her work, ignoring any further overtures. As much as she appreciated the inclusion, she didn’t want to spend her evening sitting in a smoky pub, drinking cheap beer and bellowing herself hoarse. She wanted a warm bath and a warm bed. There was only one person she was interested in inviting to join her in either, and even if she hadn’t still been a bit cross with him, the chance of her seeing him at all on this brief visit grew more remote with every hour that passed. His itinerary included supper with Senator Brandt at his hotel, and was liable to be a late night—the senator’s aide had also arranged for a room for Steve at the hotel, presumably to avoid cutting their evening short.

She was grateful Steve would have a chance to get a decent meal and a good night’s sleep while he was in London, even if it meant she wouldn’t get to see his preposterously good-looking face in person. She knew from the dispatches that he was doing gruelling work, and that he often passed up opportunities for respite so that other men could take leave.

By six, it seemed as though the boys from the 107th had all cleared off at last, along with the rest of the office. Peggy slipped into the women’s locker room to change clothes. Transit to and from home in uniform for women was allowed, but not precisely encouraged—and the uniform had a way of making a person more approachable, which was the very last thing Peggy wanted just now.

She quickly tidied her hair, and reapplied her lipstick and a small dab of eau de toilette, before donning her trusty navy shirtwaist dress. It was slightly threadbare at the cuffs and collar, but still serviceable, and a decent fit, even if it wasn’t as stylish as one might wish for. Peggy knew that plain outfits were a small sacrifice for such a worthy cause—but she still longed for the day when she could have a new dress every season, with features and embellishments, in colours so rich her mouth watered at the thought.

Daydreams of pleated skirts and pockets carried her all the way back to her desk, where she collected her hat and gloves, and tried to revive her sad umbrella. If her office ceiling was any indication, it was still pouring outside, but she knew better than to risk bad luck opening the thing indoors.

Just as she’d started to don her Mackintosh, she heard Barnes’s customary “shave-and-a-haircut” knock on the open door behind her.

She didn’t bother turning around. “For the last time, sod off!” She didn’t often use that kind of language in a professional setting, but if they weren’t going to accept a polite refusal, then—

“Yes, ma’am,” said a familiar voice.

She spun on her heel.

Steve was leaning against the door frame, hands in his pockets. His dress uniform jacket was tucked under his arm, his sleeves rolled up to the elbow. His tie had come loose, his collar unbuttoned, and his hair was mussed, tumbling boyishly over his brow.

He looked, in short, half-undone and entirely ravishing.

All of the sensible reasons she had for keeping her distance suddenly seemed small and remote in comparison.

“Steve,” she said, unnecessarily. “Hello.”

“Hi.” The warm smile he gave her suggested that he hadn’t taken her dismissal personally, at least.

Peggy had imagined this exact scenario an embarrassing number of times: the two of them, in the office after hours, all alone. The fantasies ranged from fairly chaste (teasing, light flirting, an innocent kiss or two) to positively filthy (Steve’s hands roaming her body, his mouth open and demanding against hers).

Looking at him now, her preference was decidedly for the latter option.

Oblivious to the turn her thoughts had taken, Steve asked, “Rough day?”

“Not really, not—” Not anymore, she wanted to say, but clamped her mouth shut just in time. “I didn’t know you were coming in.”

“I’m not here—not officially. I was just gonna leave this on your desk.”

He jiggled a small brown paper packet at her. It took her a moment to recognize it as the portion of sugar from a ration box.

“How on earth did you manage to hang onto that?”

“We’re still getting it in the K-rats. And I like to save mine for a rainy day.”

“It certainly is that,” she conceded, glancing up at the ceiling. “Are you sure you won’t miss it?”

A different sort of man, a smooth operator, would have taken the opportunity to feed her a line: not as much as I’ll miss you, or, how about you just owe me something sweet? But Steve just shrugged, and tucked the packet gently under the corner of her desk blotter.

Peggy was both touched and exasperated.

She knew that in combat, even with no experience, he could be confident, creative, and quick-thinking. He was almost certainly capable of applying that approach in other situations too. But he hadn’t—at least, not with her.

She wanted one romantic overture from him. Just one. A single, unmistakable gesture, something that couldn’t possibly be attributed to kindness or friendship or sheer accident.

She felt she deserved at least that.

Still, he’d come halfway across town, to bring her less than an ounce of sugar that he’d probably gone hungry to save. It wasn’t a passionate kiss, but it counted for something.

And so she smiled, and thanked him, adding, “I’m glad I was here to accept it in person.”

“Me too.”

“I thought you had supper with the senator and his cronies.”

“I told him I had an early start tomorrow. I think he got enough of my time.” His tone made it plain that he would rather have spent his day getting shot at by HYDRA. “I told the guys they ought to ask you to come out with us tonight. I’m sorry they bothered you.”

“No, it’s fine—I mean, yes, they did, but—” Being half-in and half-out of her coat meant that instead of breezily waving his apology aside, she wound up flapping her sleeve at him, ineffectually.

Obligingly, Steve stepped closer, and held her coat up by the collar.

“Oh,” said Peggy, letting him slip the coat over her shoulders. “Thank you.”

It was a simple gesture, one any kind person would make, and Steve was nothing if not kind. There was absolutely no reason for her heart to be racing, she told herself sternly.

His hand still held her collar; she turned, drawing the circle of his arm around her shoulders, as though they were about to dance.

Up close, she could see the faint dusting of freckles across his nose, the speck of a mole on his cheek. Details that the artists who depicted Captain America always seemed to miss, slight imperfections that belonged only to Steve Rogers. She was strangely tempted to brush her fingertips over them, to prove that they were real, that he was real.

His eyes were wide, his gaze clear blue and bottomless, and she suddenly felt in danger of drowning.

A hard pellet of water hit her cheek, making her jump.

“Don’t tell me it’s raining in here, too,” said Steve, glancing up at the ceiling with his hand outstretched.

“It’s London in March,” she observed, stepping out of the line of fire. “It’s raining everywhere.” She emphasized the point by buttoning her coat and hooking her umbrella over her arm.

“Can I walk you to the train?” His look was hopeful.

“Actually,” she said, against her better judgement, “I think I will come for a drink, after all.”

Steve beamed. “Swell.”

(TO BE CONTINUED...)

#steggysecretsanta #steggy #robofic #formerlyir

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baekhvuns · 4 years ago

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I just read your “ateez as dad’s” reaction, and it was so adorable that could we see the members of bts as Dad’s?? thank you!!

bangtan reactions ; requested

。。。bangtan as dad's ( this is definitely my favourite type of reactions to do )

── kim seokjin ;

imagine him making his kids sit on his broad ass shoulders while they play with his chocolate brown hair.

his kids getting his worldwide handsome looks from the minute they pop out the womb.

he’s a sag, we know his kids be the best dressed.

omg imagine when his kids grow old, and he’s teaching his daughter how to drive, he’ll be so soft with her, “nooo, take the right—yes yes good job!”

and then when he’s with his son, the asian dad comes out. “aY, WATCH YOUR SPEED— OHMYGOD DID YOU JUST RUN A RED LIGHT?”

“dad, the light was green.”

“YOU JUST RAN A LIGHT, YOU IDIOT!” smacks his kid on the head.

i think when as his kids grow older, the more funny jin gets, random dad jokes being thrown around.

imagine getting ready for a wedding event or some party, and he’s yelling that he’s starting the car when he’s sitting on the bed with his phone scrolling through the army cafe.

── kim namjoon ;

man, i don’t even know (this is too soft)

best dad, wbk (i think it’s a leader thing, all leaders in kpop, would be such amazing dad’s)

buys his kids magical and deep meaning story books that he reads to them every night before bed.

he finally put the baby shoes he bought to a proper use, and then buys every single colour in it because his kid really liked them.

imagine joon, in his tux with glasses (the fit he wore to grammy’s) while he’s holding his son while standing tall and the media gushes over how adorable the pair is. crying

his kid holding one of his fingers while walking down the streets or the red carpet while wobbling on their feets.

“dada?” his kid calls for him while he’s in his office, he pauses and smiles, waving his kid to come over and places them on the table. while he writes songs, his kid plays with either his hair or the jewelry he was wearing.

definitely as his kids grow older he gets a bit stricter, cause he has his moments here and there.

when it’s time for his kids looking for girlfriend’s or boyfriend’s, he’ll have the talk with them and give them advice while walking back and forth like a lecturer.

── min yoongi ;

he’d be the sweetest dad ever, 🥺

calls his kids his angels, imagine his kids get his gummy smile (I WOULD DIE)

imagine yoongs buying his kids small little bucket hats that cover their entire faces and he just takes selfies with them and posts it on the army cafe with the caption, “look at my angels, army.”

i think he’d be a very open minded dad, although he’s on the quieter side many would think he’s really strict and stern kinda like a sergeant.

but in reality he’s a dad who gives his those ticklish kisses when someone puts their face in the kids stomach (ifykwim) and they’d fall into a giggly mess.

whoever hurts his kids, better start running, whether it be teachers or some random kids on the block or heck even the “fans”

no one hurts his family, he’ll work in quietness and place a lawsuit on the people who hurt them.

agustd mixtapes would include a song that would be titled the birthdate of his first born as a present to them and army. as well as have a separate song for his kids titled ‘my one and only’

as his kids grow older and his daughter introduces her boyfriend to him, i think we all know the poor young man would be scared shitless of the agustd.

“if you want to date my daughter, rap better than me.”

yeah, goodluck.

── jung hoseok ;

get ready for a very adventurous dad,

wakes his kid early mornings for random trips down by the bay, all while they whine and he stands there in his dad sandals grinning proudly.

jiwoo would spoil the shit out of hobi’s kids, his kids would be dressed in those pretty aesthetic outfits.

he makes them smol little rainbow bracelets and puts them around their little baby wrists. 🥺

always has his kid propped up on his hip, whenever he dances or shows other trainees and teaches them how to do certain moves, his kids watch him with bright shiny eyes.

the trainees awe at his kids, omg imagine his kids bopping their heads to the beat while clapping their hands like dolphins while hobi dances.

his kids would be dance prodigy’s, i said what i said.

matching outfits with his lil babies !! imagine hope comes home and finds his kid playing with his colourful glasses with his shirt over their heads, softly giggling 🥺

── park jimin ;

ma’am, i will tell you, he would be the strictest dad in bangtan.

i think we all watched that hello counsellor episode where he was angry at the boy who put his dolls before his family.

he’d be a great dad, of course, he loves kids and would do anything for his own. but of course, he’d be on a stricter side.

i see him constantly comparing his pinky finger with his little kids because he finally has someone who’s pinky fingers aren’t bigger than his.

his relaxing time is whenever his kids are close to him, imagine his kids hiding their faces in jimin’s neck because they’d be shy by the amount of people taking their photos and you would just hear the armies go, “AWWWWWW.” honestly same.

he’d bring his kids to bangtan’s concerts! as toddlers he would bring them out during the encore time while holding his hands and making them sing a little bit of bangtan’s songs in their baby voices 😩

as more adults, like around 8-9, he’d bring them to more music shows but send them home early because it’s bed time, but not before kissing them a goodnight.

let’s face it, his kids be the hottest. his kids would be listed as the hottest celebrity kids alongside many other’s and jimin would just boast about it everywhere.

he’s really proud of his kids and won’t hesitate to show it in private moments or even in public moments.

dance classes with dad jimin >>>

── kim taehyung ;

he loves kids, a lot.

he’d do anything for them, the friend dad, his kids would forever be his first priority.

watch his kids get the entirety of his facial genes which would automatically make them prettier / handsomer than 99% percent of the population.

takes his kids to art gallery’s around the world, shows his artistic side to his kids who also enjoy.

painting with his kids would be his favourite time of the day, imagine his kids little fingers doing finger painting and showing it off to tae who would be more than proud and start clapping loudly.

tae’s big hands would cradle his babies faces and squish their cheeks as they fall into fits of giggles, tae’s heart just swells whenever he hears his kids laugh.

bro honestly, tae’s treated like a president, his kids would like the first kids of the country, constant headlines of tae and his kids holding hands would go viral while we all suffer bc we could never 🙃

so, uh, if you mess with his family, consider yourself done, after all he’s the kim taehyung.

as much as he’s proud of his kids, he would be secretive about his private life, as in he wouldn’t want to expose his kids to the world of being a celebrity and being famous beyond.

but imagine, the day he introduces his kids to the world (idk but i’m seeing his son) while wearing a nice tux with black hair, one hand in his pocket while the other over his son’s shoulders.

people would be shocked because his kid is the exact copy of him, but we would be shocked because another kim taehyung is born.

── jeon jungkook ;

welcome to world of wholesomeness, your stay would be making you uwu a lot.

imagine his kids playing with kooks long hair and he lets them hairstyle it however they want. with pretty pink rubber bands

hIS KIDS WILL GET HIS BUNNY TEETH OR WE RIOTING.

his (idk but i’m seeing a son again) son would have his shiny eyes and bunny teeth, overall would be so adorable that kook would have a heart attack whenever his baby would look at him.

imagine you coming home and seeing both your kids sleeping on him, one over his chest while the other his sprawled over his stomach, and you hear the soft snoring of the three of them echoing around the room.

takes candid pictures of his kids whenever they’re having fun in the playground or at road trips, omg imagine him and his kids singing singing to songs while kook drives down the pretty road.

whenever a bangtan song comes on ten radio his kids would start screaming and kook would be smiling all brightly while glancing at them through the mirror while shouting the lyrics himself.

writes songs for his kids, his lullabies would be heavenly.

i also think he’d be a strict dad, after jimin, i think he’ll take on that position.

only when they are slightly older, because kids make mistakes and kook will take it to his responsibility to teach them the right things and to repeat what’s the righteous.

he would be more stricter towards his sons while being more favourable towards his daughters because they got his eyes and he can’t ever say no to them.

no, but he would be great friends with his son, they would play almost any sports together, whether it be online or in person.

really tries his best to be the best dad for his kids and no matter what happens he’ll always be by their side.

#✉️ : ask #this was so cute <3 #bts reactions #bts #bangtan #bangtan reaction #kpop reactions #bts imagines #bts fluff #bts requests

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sad-sweet-cowboah · 4 years ago

Text

Rekindled

Summary: After a hard night of drinking with Lenny, Arthur finds himself in an odd but familiar spot. He also meets someone he hadn’t seen in months: you.

Warnings: It’s angsty smut hours here, folks.

A/N: So this is technically an older piece, since I started it last October and have been working on it little by little since. I did post a preview of it last year if anyone remembers!

A path of light crossed over Arthur’s closed eyes, rousing him from a deep sleep. He blinked them open, bleary and heavy, greeted with the unfamiliar ceiling of a cabin.

The sun shone through the light curtains of a window next to him, and he quickly realized he’d been laying in a bed. The leftover tiredness vanished as he jerked up in surprise, only to be cursed with a splitting headache. The room spun, an uncomfortable dizziness that caused his stomach to lurch.

Expelling a small groan, he gingerly rubbed his palm over his face, resting it on his forehead. How much did he drink last night?

Movement caught his eye, the door on the far side of the room opening. He tensed up, soon forgetting about his moment of weakness to grab for his gun – only to realize his belt had been removed.

A figure stepped in, covered in a jacket and a long skirt billowing around their legs. Beautiful hair that flowed elegantly around their face. Hands laden with a bucket. As they turned toward him, Arthur’s eyes widened in surprise.

“Y/N?!”

“Oh good, you’re awake!” you spoke, your voice light in a chime. “’Bout time too, it’s early afternoon.”

Arthur seemed to be flabbergasted by your appearance, mouth hung open slightly as he continued to stare. It’d been months since you’d last seen each other.

His stomach twisted uncomfortably, causing him to wince and double over.

“There’s another bucket next to you.” You’d said nonchalantly, turning away to heave the bucket onto the table. Liquid sloshed loudly within it.

Without looking Arthur grabbed the other bucket, having done just in time as he proceeded to empty the contents of his stomach into it. He retched and heaved uncomfortably, the pain overcoming him until the spasms of his body calmed down. The rancid taste lingered in his mouth, a tinge of alcohol still remaining. He spat into the bucket and placed it back on the ground.

“Where are we?” he rasped, wiping his mouth.

“Cumberland Forest,” you responded without turning to face him. “Little cabin tucked away in the trees.”

“You…you live here?” he asked, pushing the blankets away in an attempt to stand.

“For the time being,” you answered, swiveling around with a tin cup in your hands. “Here.” You walked over to him, pushing on his shoulder.

Arthur towered over you, yet he fell back onto the bed to your gentle pressure. You held the cup out which he took, warily peering into it. Clear water that was cool to the touch filled it halfway. Arthur brought the cup to his lips and took a small sip, swishing it to remove some of the taste on his tongue. He spat it into the bucket once more. “Thanks,” he sighed, placing the cup down. “How’d I…did ya find me or somethin’?”

“Passed out on the side of the road, reeking with alcohol,” you confirmed with a snicker. “Nice to see some things don’t change.”

Arthur ducked his head in shame, sighing out a response. “Yeah…” he shook his head at himself, albeit lightly to not agitate the pounding that refused to leave his head. It’d fallen silent for a long moment, thoughts moving through his mind as he tried to find his next words.

He hadn’t seen you in months; you having up and left the gang without so much as a note of farewell. He woke up one day to find you and your belongings gone and no trace of you at all. It left the others bewildered, some even trying to track you, including Arthur himself. The search lasted for days, however the effort proved to be fruitless as the trail had gone cold.

“Listen, I have to run into Valentine for a bit,” you said, moving away from him to grab a satchel that hung on the wall. “Stay if you want, just don’t think about robbing me. You know damn well I can track you if you do.”

Arthur blinked at your abruptness, watching quietly as you opened the door again, stepping out into the greenery that surrounded the cabin. After a few seconds, the sound of hoofbeats faded into the distance.

Once the door closed, he was surrounded by silence again. He stood up carefully, hit by another wave of dizziness. He leaned on the wall, clutching at his head as a second bout of nausea overcame him. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, willing himself not to dry heave.

As the feeling passed, he opened his eyes again. He was in just a simple one room building. He realized with a jolt this was Six Point Cabin, the area that held the O’Driscoll camp which Kieran had helped ambush just days earlier. He didn’t recognize it at first; there had been some cleaning done, a little bit of redecorating here and there. He moved toward a window, peering toward the field that the small massacre occurred. The tents and supplies were all still there, though some items have been moved around. He assumed you were probably looking through the tents and crates for anything useful or valuable.

He couldn’t fathom why you chose this place to stay in, wondering if you’d ever run into any other O’Driscoll goons. So many questions he wanted to ask, and he was tempted to follow you into Valentine. Though after the previous night, it didn’t seem like the best idea. He wondered how Lenny fared after last night, if he’d managed to get back to camp. The last thing Arthur remembered was stumbling away from the law.

In reality, he should try and head back to camp. However, unanswered questions that cycled in his mind rooted him in place. Your departure had caused him more pain than he realized, keeping him up for many nights in lost wonder on where you went and hoping you’d return. Easily one of the most productive members in the gang, you had proven to be a great thief and a formidable fighter. Additionally there was a softness to you, a kind heart that reached out for those in need. He always had to admire you from afar.

He sighed and reached for the water cup, lifting it to his parched lips and taking a swallow. Guess he’ll wait around for your return.

---

An hour passed, and Arthur’s patience didn’t wear. He kept himself busy, letting his strength slowly regain. Some personal items of yours were strewn about, little reminders of your presence that he missed. He’d found his satchel underneath the bed, having some stringy meat once he knew the nausea wouldn’t return. His gun belt, he’d realized, was resting against the bed post. His hat was on top of it.

Upon the fireplace, he’d noticed a framed photo. It was the entire gang, all posing in front of a large carriage. Upon taking the photo, he had been standing close to you, close enough to touch. He remembered that day fondly.

A few more memories stirred up, the feeling of nostalgia touching him in both a pleasant and unpleasant way.

A little more time had passed until the thundering of hooves caught his attention. He tensed, hand automatically hovering over his revolver. A moment later, the door opened to reveal you once again.

He relaxed in an instant, letting out the breath he was holding. As you closed the door, you met his gaze and smiled. “Haven’t left yet huh?”

“Don’t got a horse at the moment.” Arthur answered instantly, which was only partially true to his degree.

“Never stopped you before,” you said with a raised eyebrow. “I know you can easily steal one.”

“You’re right,” Arthur nodded. “But I ain’t leavin’, not til you answer some questions.”

Your smile turned rueful. “Figured as much,” you sighed, placing your satchel on the table. Pulling out a can of beans and some already cooked meat slabs, you continued. “Wanna have some dinner, then?”

Arthur looked at you for a moment, and then shrugged, sitting at the table. The stringy meat hadn’t exactly provided him with much. He waited silently as you prepared two plates, placing one in front of him and the other at your own spot. As you settled into your seat, Arthur’s eyes were on you.

“Alright, ask.”

“Why did ya leave?” he immediately spoke. “’Specially when you didn’t say goodbye to anyone.”

You sighed, casting your gaze down to your plate. You toyed with the beans briefly before spooning some into your mouth, chewing with a thoughtful expression. “Somethin’ didn’t seem right.”

Arthur tilted his head. “What do ya mean by that?”

“I dunno, I kept getting this…feeling,” you explained, your free hand resting over your heart. “A feeling that something bad was gonna happen. I didn’t want to stick around to find out what it was.”

“So you just up n’ left?” Arthur concluded. “Why didn’t ya say anything to anyone?”

“Would any of y’all have believed me?” you countered. When Arthur hesitated, you added, “Didn’t think so.”

“Coulda at least told me,” he mumbled. “At least told me goodbye. I…we tried trackin’ ya for a little while.”

“I thought you would try, so I had to make sure I covered my tracks well,” You explained. “Kept myself moving.”

Arthur solemnly nodded once, momentarily falling silent to eat some of his meal. He wasn’t sure what to say next, trying to process the information that was given. You’d left on a bad feeling. He understood gut feelings, knowing them all too well in a lifestyle such as this. “What caused it?” he finally asked.

“Can’t say for sure,” you replied with a small shake of your head. “But when Micah joined… it just felt like something was different.”

Micah, of course. That headstrong fool causing more problems than not these past few months. “So Micah caused you to leave.”

“Eh, part of it. Racist asshole.” you murmured.

A chuckle passed his lips. “He’s in jail over in Strawberry right now. I’m supposed to go get ‘im, and I’d rather wrestle a damn pack ‘o wolves.”

“Not surprised,” venom dripped from your voice. “But it was…more than just him. I started having nightmares. Bloodshed and bodies, mangled faces of those I cared about…” you swallowed hard, stopping to eat some more. A moment of silence followed as you chewed on the meat. “I came to the conclusion that I didn’t wanna be a part of that, so I left.”

Nightmares. Arthur shook his head in disbelief, leaning back against the chair, folding his arms. “Seems a little silly to run ‘cause of nightmares.”

“I thought so too, until I heard the mess you guys caused in Blackwater.” You pointed out as-a-matter-of-factly.

“You know about that?” he said incredulously.

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “Who hasn’t? I got into town not too long after you fled. Pinkertons everywhere, interrogating people on the streets. I had to keep myself hidden, managed to sneak out. When I learned what happened, I realized I was right. Something went wrong.”

Arthur sighed, running his hand through his hair. He was hesitant to compare your dream to the awful reality. He reluctantly spoke, “Weren’t just Blackwater neither. We got chased up into the Grizzlies, lost some folk on the way. We managed to get in a better spot, but it ain’t easy gettin’ back on our feet.”

“Only further proving my point,” You added. “I couldn’t bring myself to be a part of that.”

“We’re outlaws, life is always dangerous for us. You knew that when ya joined up.” Arthur argued, stabbing the meat with unnecessary force to cut it.

“Of course I knew that, Arthur,” you retorted with a slight scowl, though melting to a look of sadness. “I wouldn’t have been with Dutch for years if I hadn’t. But honestly…my gut was telling me to get out, and I did.”

He fell silent again, a flame in his chest wanting him to argue more yet nothing but empty words filled his mind. Bickering was something you and him were good at, usually about silly things that resolved on its own within a few minutes. It was only on rare occasions did you two disagree on a bigger matter, resulting in neither of you speaking for a day, and would only speak if he approached you first. You were more stubborn than he was.

Remembering those days brought a bout of woeful sentiments, reminding him all too clearly how much he’d missed you when you left. “I jus’...” he trailed off, rubbing his face before continuing. “Everyone misses you. They still wonder why ya left.”

You pursed your lips, dropping your gaze down to your plate. “I wanted to say something, I truly did. But I know it would have made things worse.”

Your last words set anger in him, bubbling up to the surface. “You leavin’ without a word was worse!” Arthur exclaimed, throwing his hand outward. “You had us all worried, wonderin’ where you were!” his fist fell heavily on the table, shaking the contents on top of it. “Search parties, days of trackin’ worthless! Losin’ sleep thinkin’ I’d never see you again.”

At first you’d seemed unphased by his outburst. However as he finished, your face began to falter. He waited for you to speak, expecting another flimsy reason or excuse to justify your actions.

With a sigh, you said, “I’m sorry, Arthur. I really am. I…” you sniffed, rubbing your eyes briefly. “I really miss you guys too. It…it took me a lot of convincing to even go through with it, and I had to constantly fight myself not to return. You guys are my family and I could never change that. It hurt me much more than you’d think.”

Arthur listened to you, his lips set in a hard line as he studied you. The raw emotion that touched your voice softened his otherwise angered heart. He took a deep breath, shaking his head as if to settle his thoughts right. There was no need to be frustrated; what was done was done. “Maybe you shoulda said somethin’. Maybe Dutch woulda listened. Wouldn’t have lost the people we did.”

“I could have and should have done many things, Arthur,” you said quietly. “But some things are meant to happen regardless. We can’t change what’s intended.”

Those words hit him with more force than he’d thought. Bowing his head, staring at the half-finished food before him. He’d lost his appetite, his heart sinking uncomfortably deep into his guts. He’d wanted answers and now he nearly regretted asking. Maybe he should have left while you were out. He wasn’t sure what answer he’d expected, though his wandering thoughts kept him awake at night those first few weeks of your absence.

There was no doubt you two had been close; both taken under Dutch’s wing at a young age. Years together of running, robbing and riding, those minor arguments and drunken nights around the campfire. Hours of speaking to one another about some nonsense, secrets whispered and kept. Some of the others would joke that you two acted like a married couple, bickering and making up right after, moving in sync and often going on missions together. Arthur would scoff and you would laugh, sometimes making the joke yourself and even going as far as to suggest to do it for real.

Arthur could never tell if you were joking or not, and would brush it off with a half-hearted chuckle. It was an absurd suggestion, wondering who could ever marry him. Yet with your departure, it were as if a piece of him had been taken with you.

He often perceived it as something he’d done wrong, though couldn’t fathom as to why it would be his own fault. You knew about Mary, about Eliza. His luck with women was something left to be desired. Yet you weren’t involved romantically, never gave an inkling of being sweet on one another. His own lack of self-confidence had automatically convinced him he wasn’t one to have any sort of close relation with the opposite sex. Perhaps it was silly to assume he was owed something from you.

He stood up immediately, aggressively pushing himself from the table as he got to his feet. As he turned to grab his things, he heard your voice.

“Arthur?”

“Gotta get goin’,” he responded without looking at you. “Got some things to take care of.”

He heard you sigh, the sound of chair legs scraping against the floor as you stood up. “At least let me walk you to the door.”

Arthur didn’t answer, grabbing his hat and satchel. As he crossed the cabin, you were right behind him, quickly walking ahead to grab the door. You opened it for him, stepping out into the late afternoon light. He could just march out and not look back, but somehow your presence there distracted him. He stopped at the threshold, looking down at you.

Rays of light beamed through the vegetation, touching your face in such a way that your skin glowed. Eyes reflected brightly, highlighting the beauty that graced your finer features. A hint of disappointment hung on your lips as a small frown, and your eyes never left his.

Silent words passed between you two like a bolt of electricity, his nerves tingling as if he were struck himself. You were the epitome of gorgeous; your features having stayed the same regardless of the hardships. More than once your face appeared in his dreams, treading through his mind in the quiet hours of the night. Those suggested ideas of marriage tugged at him on occasion, daring to venture where that would lead.

Sure, he never did believe you, partly due to his previous relationships. He was a cursed man, damned to never be truly satisfied with his life as the powers above teasingly dangled his desires in front of him. Cruel was fate for pulling you away too. Perhaps you were right about how some things were meant to happen.

“Stay with me.” You said. It wasn’t a question nor a suggestion.

Arthur felt his breath hitch.

“Don’t go back, please.” Your voice was low, swimming with raw emotion.

You never pleaded, the slightest hints of it in your tone caught Arthur off guard. He stared at you with contemplation, your words pulling at his heartstrings with more force than intended.

“I…can’t…” he forced himself to say, wringing out the words as if his throat were dry.

Your lips pursed, your steady gaze not breaking from his. “You’re not invincible, ya know. One day…things will change.”

He inhaled, opening his mouth as if to argue, yet no words formed on his lips. A strong mix of emotions raged within him still, a battle of uncertainty that could not be quelled. “Things always change.” He managed to say quietly.

“Not for the better, you know that.” You emphasized.

Of course he knew that, hell, he probably knew that better than anyone. Pain, death, and sadness took the forefront of his life more often than he’d like, yet cutting ties as you did would be much more difficult. He had a family, close bonds that would take effort to break.

Seeing you standing before him, the desperation bright and glassy in your eyes, had him consider it for a brief moment.

He spoke your name, his words trailing off as he watched you step closer, just inches away from him.

“We could be…good…together, Arthur,” you whispered, tilting your head up, your breath wafting gently across his face. “You and I…no more outlaw days, no more running, no more worrying…just…us.”

His heart pounded like a drum against his ribs. Having you this close rendered his head devoid of all thought. Your words echoed in his mind, the very brief consideration driven by something deeper within him.

His mouth opened slightly, though whatever he was going to say was quickly subdued by your lips.

Shock overcame him, stiffening in surprise. You pulled back instantaneously, staring into his eyes with an expectant look.

He stared at you in bewilderment, stirring up a myriad of feelings. Silent questions arose, none of which formed in his mouth. His hands twitched forward without thought, raising one to graze his fingers against your cheek. Cupping it gently, he leaned forward and kissed you properly.

Your lips were soft against his, warm and plump, easily melding against his mouth. His other hand hovered along your lower back, hesitant, yet you stepped forward to welcome his embrace. Bodies touching, his arm rested against you, holding you to him.

It’d been so long since he kissed anyone; he nearly forgot what it felt like. A sweet rush of bliss washed over him, soon forgetting the unease that held the both of you. His hands slinked into your hair, holding you close as his lips moved silently against yours.

Your arms wrapped around his neck, his nerves tingling pleasantly from your touch. It was as if you had fire in your skin, every part of his body responding to the heat that radiated from you. He pulled back for air, breathing heavily as if he’d run a race. Blood rushed, thumping in his ears.

You kept hold of him, a small smile painted on your face. You’d reached up and pulled his hat off. A thousand unspoken words were exchanged through your gazes alone, all of which told one message that he understood.

Stay.

Your hands ran slowly across his shoulders, fingers trickling lightly across the fabric of his shirt. You outlined the muscles of his biceps, trailing along his forearms and finally to his hands. His hands gently entwined with yours, warm and soft against his rough and calloused skin.

You silently pulled him back into the cabin, his feet light as he followed you without protest. Your lips found his again, eliciting such passion behind it that it nearly caught him off guard. His arms took hold of you, pulling you in a tight embrace. Your closeness, the warmth that radiated through your clothes against him, it was all so surreal.

God, has he been holding back for this long? Was this just a dream?

Arthur pulled back an inch, resting his forehead against yours. You felt so real in his arms, against his chest. He uttered your name, barely a whisper that held his vulnerability. The way he longed for you was unlike any other. You were more than just a fellow outlaw to him, more than just family.

Now he knew why you suggested marriage.

And he’d been so afraid of another relationship, he refused to see it for what it was himself.

You sighed his name, your voice like a soft song in his ears.

It hurts to be without you.

He dipped his head down, resting it carefully on your shoulder. Your hands threaded through his hair with soothing strokes. Your scent overwhelmed him, a lovely aroma which fogged his senses. He breathed in slowly, locking you into his memory.

His lips ghosted across the soft skin of your neck, placing a baby kiss along your pulse point. A short, uneven breath rattled from your throat. Lifting his head, he peered at your face. Your eyes were half-lidded, staring at him with an expression he recognized, yet he was in disbelief.

Why me?

Your palms rested on his chest, holding his gaze as your fingers inched toward his exposed skin. You traced his collar bones, your touch light. Moving across the midline of his pectorals, you stopped over his racing heart that leapt from the lightest of grazes.

His skin felt like fire, a trail prickling after your touch. After years of only bath ladies having come in contact with his naked skin, this effect was foreign and familiar simultaneously. He watched as your fingers deftly worked the topmost closed button of his shirt.

He stiffened automatically, unable to hide the wariness of judgment that crept to the forefront of his mind. You must have recognized his apprehension, moving one hand to cup his cheek. Your face was gentle, offering a look of safety.

You can trust me.

A shuddering breath pushed past his lips. Such intimacy was lost to him long ago, only to be visited in his dreams. He missed it so and was afraid to attempt with another woman. He did trust you, trusted you with his life even. Perhaps it was time to strengthen it even more.

He ducked his head slightly, giving a small nod to allow you to continue. A soft kiss was placed on his cheek. You continued further, easing your way down his buttons, keeping your eyes level with his.

He was nervous, his heart refusing to cease its hammering. His mind incessantly whispered unkind comments, battling actively with his better senses. With each button released, exposing more of his torso, he waited for your reaction of disgust or disinterest. With the last undone, his shirt fell open to reveal his union suit. You hadn’t hesitated to repeat the process, exposing more and more of his torso to you until he was bare from the waist up.

He watched you with held breath as you smoothed your palm against his abdomen, the tips of your fingers trailing gently along the ridges of his muscles. A look of interest appeared across your face, tracing patterns along his skin. To his surprise, you hadn’t offered him any notion of repulsion.

You reached up, taking hold of his shirt and suspenders to peel them from his shoulders. The cool air nipped his skin, though it didn't quell the warmth that slowly spread through him. He closed his eyes from your softness, aware of the way your hands explored him. Just this alone brought a brighter light in the darkness of his inner thoughts, slowly diminishing the skepticism that plagued him.

Your fingers rested on the back of his neck, applying gentle pressure to bring him to you. As your lips met you grasped his hand, placing it gently upon your own shirt.

Hesitant as he was, fingers twitching across the buttons, he longed for more.

Without a pause you guided him with ease, directing him along the line as they parted. The silky fabric of your chemise grazed against his knuckles. He opened his eyes, pulling back to view. Your shirt fell from your shoulders, pooling on the ground around your feet.

Your skirt was soon to follow, the billowing waves of fabric landing elegantly upon the worn wooden floor. Down to nothing but your unmentionables, you placed Arthur’s hands onto your waist. Heat radiated through the thin fabric like a furnace. You inched closer, pressing your body against his. You were so delicate compared to him, even though you presented yourself otherwise.

He wanted to touch you more, to feel your bare skin in his palms. His reluctance fueled by the remaining dregs of apprehension stopped him. He idly tested the fabric between his fingers, unsure whether or not to move forward. Your eyes reflected patience, silently awaiting his decision.

I trust you too.

Releasing a shuddering exhale, Arthur tugged the straps down from your shoulders. Your breasts, perfect and round, were revealed to him as he peeled it away. You aided him further, sliding the entire piece down your waist, falling past your legs to join the rest of your clothes on the floor.

You were completely nude now, standing before him with shameless confidence. He gazed at you up and down while drinking in the lovely sight with careful precision. Lord, you were gorgeous. A Goddess next to such a plain man such as himself. He almost felt shameful to even stand in your presence.

You stepped closer, pressing your body to his as you wrapped your arms around his neck once more. Your breasts rested against his chest which left him breathless. Desire began to pool within him, stirring heat in his very core. He bit his lip with an inability to hinder the ever growing arousal. He held you again, resting his hands just above the curve of your rear. Trailing his fingertips up and down your spine, reveling how good you felt to him.

He soon found the courage to venture further, falling to the lust that took hold of him. Your butt felt heavenly to him, kneading your flesh which produced a quiet moan from you. Standing on your toes, you placed your lips upon his neck, trailing quick kisses along his pulse point and his stubbled chin, leaving no part of his skin untouched.

Your fingers ghosted across his arousal, too prominent to ignore it. You’d make quick work with the buttons, releasing him of his confinements. He felt the last of his clothes fall from him, exposing him in his entirety. He didn’t have time to react nor comprehend, as you’d taken his length in your hand without hesitation. A soft groan elicited from him as you smoothed your hand up and down. He could only stand there, allowing your control to flood him completely.

You quickened your pace, his groans only becoming louder. He could absolutely melt from your touch at this point, having gone so long without the company of anyone but his own. His grip on you tightened in need for more. His knees trembled from your thumb running across the head, and he released a shuddering breath.

And then, you stopped. A protest built in his throat as you stepped back, only to beckon him towards the bed. He followed without question, allowing you to push him to sit on the edge. You straddled him to sit daintily on his lap as you pulled him into a deep, heated kiss. Your hand found his length again, languidly stroking him with a light touch. He moaned into your mouth, tongues batting against one another at a slow pace. He could feel your heat on his legs, accompanied by the slight moisture. Daringly reaching down, he found your center without hesitation.

His fingertip encircled your bud. You shuddered on top of him, eliciting a soft moan of your own that sent a rush of fire through his stomach. His strokes hastened, vainly seeking for more of your pleasure. He tantalizingly stroked you with intent to prolong it. He enjoyed listening to you, knowing that he was eliciting such delectation. You ground into his grasp, pressing your torso to his once again. Your touch had become more feverish against him, ripping your lips from his to express yourself with a high mewl. You’d responded with dragging your thumb underneath his pink head, teasing the sensitive skin. He bucked up into your grip with a deep groan.

His fingers idled at your entrance, marveling at your slick. He slid one finger in as he explored your inner walls, stroking against your heat with slow precision. He’d lost count of the years past that he’d touched someone in such a way, although his memory of them was still as clear as day.

You uttered a gasp, a product of him discovering your spot. He curled his finger teasingly within you, adding another for enhanced effect. Soon you were reduced to a writhing mess on his lap, you gripped his shoulder with your free hand until he felt the sting of your nails.

A soft hiss slid across his tongue. The pain was not bothersome, only adding to the growing flames that resided within him. Though with each passing second, his yearning for you only increased. He wanted you, needed you. Years of missed opportunity leading to this moment.

He stared at your face. Cheeks flushed with a beautiful rosy glow, your lips parted and your eyes unable to focus. Because of him. He brought your attention back, one hand resting upon your cheek as your eyes met. He could get lost in how gorgeous yours were.

You seemed to understand him. Unspoken messages passed across an unseen bridge. Clarity formed on your face as you released him, then wrapped your arms around his neck.

Take me.

He held your hips, waiting patiently as you maneuvered yourself over him. As you sunk down, his eyes kept to yours as you began to seat yourself comfortably, a breathless gasp sliding from his mouth. Your inner walls were so hot, so wet…his grip tightened slightly at the sensation, holding himself not to thrust up into you.

Engulfed to the hilt, your hips canted as you began to rhythmically move against him. The ripples that accompanied it were breathtaking, a deep groan emitting from his chest. He couldn’t help but to move along with you, keeping in sync as you danced atop his lap. Your sweet sounds of pleasure were almost musical, filling his mind abuzz.

Your sight lost focus as you threw your head back, calling out his name in such a melody it made him blush. He was doing this to you. Him and only him. He could get lost in your essence just listening to your voice. His lips attached to your heated skin, beginning to slowly leave his marks on you, along your neck and across your collarbones. Your fingers stroked through his hair. You sighed into his ear, every praise and encouragement laced in your voice that seemed foreign to him but encouraging all the same.

Your fingers had brushed across his jaw, offering slight pressure to pull his head up. He met your lidded gaze, face flushed and mouth slightly parted. He understood your notion, his hands slinking up your back to knot into your hair as he drew you in for another kiss. Mixed sounds drowned out against your tongues with your increased pace. A deep groan vibrated in his chest while he hastened to keep up with you.

His lips parted from yours to catch his breath, taking short huffs before his mouth returned to your body. One hand slid around your torso to your breast. He kneaded it gently in his palm, reveling how soft and warm it felt. His mouth occupied your puckered nipple while his teeth grazed over it. You uttered a whine in response, your entire body trembling on top of him. He gave attention to the rest of your body with his other hand, memorizing every curve and swell. Everything about you felt wonderful. He eventually found his way to your core again, running his fingers along your nub to enhance your pleasure. Your moans only grew from there, your nails leaving their own marks on his shoulders.

You gripped him hard, your voice raising an octave. He knew what it meant as he locked gazes with you and he rubbed you faster, coaxing out your climax. It only took a half a moment before every muscle trembled around him, your walls clenching his length as your release overtook you. His name graced your lips as you pressed your forehead to his, dragging your fingers down his back. He shuddered from your touch, your climax almost sending him over the edge.

You panted out the last waves of your peak as your grip loosened from him. You straightened up to stare at him, appearing absolutely drunk with ecstasy and adoration for him. His heart leapt from the sight. He grabbed your waist and lifted you from him, turning to lay on the bed in one smooth motion.

He towered over you, keeping his gaze even with yours. You smiled up at him, a warm and inviting smile as your legs spread for him. He smiled as well, running his hands down your sides to stop at your hips. He carefully lined himself with your folds and pushed forward. A soft groan emanated as he sheathed himself within you once again. A brief moment of pause to relish the feeling of joining together again, Arthur caressed your face, keeping his gaze steady. Your hand covered his, and he began to thrust.

Watching your face contort to your pleasure underneath him was the best thing he’d ever seen.

His hips rolled in an undulating rhythm against you. Your hands found their way to his hair. Unblinking stares settled deep in his soul, afraid to look away as if he’d lose sight of your beauty permanently.

Time was lost to him from how deeply buried he was. His surroundings vanished, only focused on you and you alone. His own name filling his ears soon became his favorite song, wrapped in a melody of your moans and mewls. He watched as a second orgasm took hold of you, visibly waving through your body to expel from your mouth.

It was the most gorgeous form he’d ever seen you in. He felt his own pleasure heighten from just watching you writhe and arch beneath him. The way your walls squeezed him again, it wouldn’t be much longer until he would release himself. But he didn’t want to end it so soon.

Your legs wrapped around him, trapping him to you. It was as if you understood what was coming next. Arthur inhaled sharply, driving himself as far as he could. The fire was growing too quickly, too powerful for him to prolong –

I want you.

He squeezed his eyes shut as the release took hold of his entire body. Every muscle clenched while his climax washed over him, emptying what felt like his soul deep in your core. He groaned loudly, his hips snapping weakly against yours until it ebbed away, opening his eyes to see you again.

Your lips were parted and your cheeks were still flushed with a rosy tint. Your lustful eyes glinted beautifully in the light of the late afternoon. He brought himself down to crush his mouth to yours, eliciting a deep kiss despite the both of you gasping for air.

Hell, he didn’t even care. Your gentle fingers raked through his hair over and over, moaning sweetly and breathlessly against his tongue. His tired arms trembled beneath his weight, and he parted his lips from yours. Fatigue struck him like a bolt, and he dropped his head to rest within the valley of your breasts. He intended to roll off to your side, except you didn’t seem to mind. He felt your lips press against the crown of his head and caress his cheek, bringing a soft smile to his face.

After a few minutes of silence, the reality of what happened soon caught up with him. It didn’t occur to him how much he missed you until this very moment, and how stupid he was to ignore his own pining. He should have tried harder to find you, hell, he should have taken you to be his own ages ago if he weren’t such a coward. How much time he wasted ignoring the obvious.

Gone for months, only to appear once again under his nose.

His fingers lazily trailed up your side. You were real, right here with him. His hand searched for yours and you obliged, entwining your fingers with his. He never wanted to let you go ever again.

---

Arthur awoke with the soft song of crickets just outside the window. As he blinked his bleary eyes, he didn’t even realize he’d fallen asleep. The full moon shone through the window, brightening the little cabin with its silver glow. He was still on you, his head was still resting upon your chest, and your deep breathing and slow heartbeat indicated you too were out cold. He shifted himself slightly to look at you, observing your features. His own heart raced just seeing you like that, how beautiful you were even in such a vulnerable state.

His gaze shifted around the cabin. Right at that moment he wanted nothing more than to stay in this cabin with you, to live and sleep and wake up every day to see your lovely face. He wanted it all.

His eyes landed on his gun belt. His Cattleman revolver gleamed brightly and the weight of a harsh reality crashed upon him. As much as he wanted it, he had too much of a responsibility to his gang, his family. It wouldn’t be fair to abandon them now, especially since they were all just getting back on their feet.

He released a silent sigh. Placing a kiss upon your skin, he moved to stand. He hadn’t pulled out prior, and the slightly pleasurable sensation overtaking him nearly made him stop. You shifted as he stood, groaning quietly as his movement aroused you.

“Arthur?” you rasped, your voice heavy with sleep.

His heart sank. He turned slowly to face you and spoke, “I have to go.” Every word felt heavy.

You’d fallen silent. He could see the disappointment and sadness shadowed across your face. You sat up and swung your legs over the side to stand before him. Every curve of you accentuated in the moonlight, illuminating you with an ethereal glow. His hands flexed at his sides, forcing himself to keep from grabbing you.

However, you’d reached forward, taking his hands in your own. He didn’t stop you. “I know you do,” You said quietly, pressing your lips to his hands. “I won’t stop you, as much as I want to.”

His breath caught, thinking back to the argument from earlier. How adamant you were about wanting him to stay. “What changed?” he asked.

You released his hands and stepped back. “You’re an outlaw. No one can tell you what to do.” You answered, a ghost of a smile flitting across your lips.

He’d nearly stepped in sync with you. He however was rooted in the spot, actively arguing with his own conscience. He knew it was the right choice, but damn did it have to hurt this bad?

He turned and silently dressed, collecting his things while he felt your eyes on from the opposite side of the cabin. All the while his mind was yelling at him. Screaming. Demanding he’d stay. Desperately hoping you’d make another attempt. He fought it with gritted teeth as he slung his satchel around his neck and strode over to the door. He rested his hand on the knob and hesitated for a split second.

I love you.

It was such a tiny whisper that he thought he might’ve imagined it. He glanced over his shoulder at you, spotting your silhouette in the darkest corner of the cabin.

His heart plummeted and he opened the door, stepping out into the nocturnal wilderness. As he closed the door behind him, he let out a choked sigh.

I love you too.

---

I’m honestly considering on making this one a trilogy. But before I write anything new, I’m going to work on more of My Little Secret as well as And I’ll Succumb To You. I’ve put off that one especially for a little too long.

#Arthur Morgan x reader #Arthur Morgan x reader smut #Arthur Morgan

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purplehairedwonder · 4 years ago

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A Rope That Wears Thin

Fandom: One Piece Rating: PG Pairings: Gen Words: 2395 Characters: Bepo, Trafalgar Law, Shachi, Penguin, Jean Bart, Ikkaku, Heart Pirates Note: The title comes from the Ayn Rand quote, “Guilt is a rope that wears thin.”

This is set between episodes 955 and 956. Law gets out of the prison six days before the raid, but we don’t know what he’s up to during that time, so I wrote this.

Summary: As the Heart Pirates plan to rescue their captain from prison, Law returns on his own. Bepo, while happy to have his captain back, feels guilty for causing Law to give himself up in the first place. He probably should have realized Law would notice.