#it does mean I should probably buy a second pair for my regular keys and everyday use

[anonforlackofabettername]

Hell I’ve used earplugs at sporting events. When the music doesn’t stop, people spend the entire game screaming next to me, or there’s a live band doing football chants, I want ear protection so I’m not walking out with a headache or worse. The only thing I can’t hear through my loops is casual conversation at normal volume through masks but with crowd noise and my auditory processing issues I’d be struggling to hear that anyway.

Genuine question about earplugs.

At the concerts I've been to i ussaly put in my Bluetooth headphones, like the little raycon ones that stick in your ears. Is that sufficient protection or do you need the dedicated earplugs?

That is better than nothing but you really should be using something that is meant to provide sound dampening, not sound delivery. If that is all you have at a concert, use those, but it's very worthwhile to get some actual earplugs. A lot of people in the notes are recommending Loops, personally I use an extra-small size of these types (not this brand, this is just an example):

[bakubros-boo-thang]

Matchmaker Mommy✨

Pairing: Akaashi x (gn)Reader

Wordcount: 2k

Trigger-warning: none, reader being afraid to date maybe

Summary: When your boss jokes about setting you up with her son, you don’t take it seriously, until so-said son shows up to work a shift with you…

A/n: to be honest this is trash, based on one shift where my coworker kept telling me to go out with her son… didn’t really have the heart to tell her that I only simp over 2D men🤷🏽‍♀️ also the fact that I’m scared to date and not really having a obvious reason for that fear… so this one doesn’t have a real plot, except for reader being an asshole and some fluff to make-up for that. Also an apology to Akaashi for confusing him with Iwaizumi all the time🤭

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

“You know, my son is still single….” Mrs. Akaashi smiled at you. The two of you were working in the small convenience store she owned. You had just poured your heart out about your dating past and how you were okay with just being by yourself for now, but in her ears, it sounded like an offer. “ So you would set your son up with a random employee?” You couldn’t help but laugh at her, not taking this thing seriously. In the few months you had worked here, the shifts with Mrs. Akaashi were the ones you looked forward to most. She was almost like a mother to you. As you guys decided to end the day with some tea, you sat down. “No, thanks; I don’t like raisins in my cookies.” You responded as Mrs. Akaashi offered you one.

“You know my son feels the same...” She let out with a big smirk. “I think we’re a match made in heaven then.” You responded while rolling your eyes. ‘’There’s only one way to find out, Y/n.’’ She smiled, and with that, the two of you went back to your regular conversations. Ever since you started working here, the two of you had always spent a lot of time together, and the shifts you shared were always the ones you looked forward to most. This was the first time she sounded serious about the matchmaker thing, though, but since she would be going on a trip the next day, you were sure this was the last of it.

When you arrive at work the following day, you notice that the door is unlocked. It didn’t make any sense since you were the only employee with a spare key, and you were supposed to be by yourself this morning. As you entered the small break room, you noticed a bag already resting on your usual spot, and slowly you realized that one of your colleagues probably had their schedule mistaken and used the emergency key. You got rid of your bag and just as you were about to head in the store you heard: ‘’Oh you’re here. My name is Keji Akaashi; I suppose today’s going to be a busy day….’’ He scratched his head as he said it and obviously tried to avoid your eyes again. Was this a coincidence, or was this his mom being a matchmaker? Still, you shook his hand as you introduced yourself. ‘’Nice to meet you Akaashi, my name is Y/n L/n. Most Monday mornings aren’t busy, to be honest, but this means we can do so much more today!’’ You tried to sound excited, but it didn’t work because it became clearer that he probably knew why he was here, and it made things all the more awkward. ‘’You can call me Keji. What do you want me to do?’’ He responded. It was weird, having to play boss over someone that probably grew up in the store, but since you didn’t want to go into the reason he was here and the fact that he was asking you what he could do, the only option was to boss him around. ‘’If you can start stocking the cold storages, I will start stocking the fresh vegetables, all right ?’’ You asked, and as he nodded his head, he went straight to business. This was a perfect way to avoid him since you worked on different sides of the small store. Not only did you already know who he was, the few times you had seen him passing by, but you had also realized how hot he looked. That and the fact that his mom always talked about him made this whole ordeal even worse. As you put your headphones on, you started checking the veggies that came in this morning, ensuring there were no rotten parts between the batches. As you were checking the spring onions, you felt a light tap on your shoulder. You couldn’t help but let out a yelp as you took your headphones off. ‘’What’s wrong?’’ You asked Akaashi. ‘’I’m finished with the cold storage.’’ “Already?’’ You let out, not being able to hide the confusion on your face. ‘’Yeah.’’ He shrugged. This was getting more and more awkward by the second.

‘’I will check it, maybe you can open the store since we open in 10 minutes.’’ You said as you headed for the shelves. As you checked them, you realized that he had just put everything in without checking the dates. Causing that the newer stuff was in the front and the older stuff in the back. ‘’Akaashi? Can you come here for a second?’’ You asked, and as he approached you, you couldn’t help but sound annoyed. ‘’Have you helped out here before?’’ ‘’I used to help when I was in middle school, but then I got into volleyball, and I didn’t have any time to help out here. Also, the reason why I’m never around these days.’’ He said sheepishly. You knew he played volleyball; Mrs. Akaashi always gushed about it to you. ‘’Okay, that explains a lot. Can you make sure the stuff in these storages is stocked according to date, so the stuff that came in today ends up in the back and the older stuff in the front?’’ He nodded his head as you continued: ‘’And after that, you can go home.’’ “You sure?’’ And he looked slightly disappointed while he said it. ‘’I’m sure I always work alone on Mondays, don’t worry about it.’’ And with that, you went back to work. When Akaashi left, you threw a ‘’Goodbye’’ his way, and that was it.

The day went by slowly. The weather was cold and probably the reason there weren’t that many customers. You had all the time in the world, and that made it worse because it meant you had all the time to overthink. You had sounded so annoyed to him, and it wasn’t his fault at all. It wasn’t even Mrs. Akaashi’s fault; she probably thought that she was helping you out. All that time also made you think about the reason you acted like that. After an hour of digging into your dating history, you realized that you were afraid of just interacting with someone because you didn’t want any expectations. At the end of your shift, you were determined to apologize to Akaashi, even if it meant telling him why you were acting this way. As you headed towards the breakroom, you already noticed the smell of Mrs. Akaashi’s dumplings, and when you entered, that was what faced you; that and a nervous-looking Akaashi.

‘’What are you doing here?’’ You said before giving yourself a mental scolding for sounding like a total asshole once again. ‘’I’m sorry for messing up this morning, and my mom always tells me you love her dumplings, so I made them myself; not sure if they taste the same, though. Hope you enjoy them.’’ He said as he grabbed his bag. ‘’Wait, Akaashi, why don’t we share? I should apologize to you as well, but let’s eat first.’’ And with that, the two of you ended up crammed in the little breakroom enjoying the dumplings together. As you finished, you started looking at the guy in front of you. He looked good; there was no denying that; he had the same friendly eyes as his mom, and he had only been nice to you. Still, you didn’t know much about him outside of his volleyball career. ‘’Akaashi, this was delicious. You take after your mom!’’ You tried to make conversation. ‘’Thank you, Y/n! My mom talks a lot about you; you care about her, don’t you?’’ He asked, still in the middle of his meal. You shrugged, knowing that you couldn’t avoid the topic anymore. ‘’Yeah, I adore Mrs. Akaashi. It’s been a blast working here, and I always look forward to our shifts together, but….’’ You couldn’t help it, you were nervous, and there was no food on your plate. Nothing to buy you some time. ‘’What is it? You can tell me; I won’t tell my mom….’’ And he looked so sincere as he said it that you had to apologize on the spot. ‘’I want to apologize to you, Akaashi. I was such an asshole to you this morning, and you didn’t deserve it at all.’’ Before you knew it, his hand was on your shoulder. ‘’Y/n, you don’t have to apologize. It was clear I wasn’t that much help on such a quiet day.’’ You brushed his hand off your shoulder as you continued. ‘’No, you deserve an apology. I wasn’t an asshole because you suck at stocking shelves….’’ He let out a ‘’Autch’’ as you continued. ‘’I was an asshole because I felt like your mom was trying to set us up, and it made me feel awkward….’’ You were avoiding his gaze as you spat out the last words. When you finally looked up, his face had turned red, and he was avoiding your eyes. ‘’She kinda did….’’

You could feel your eyes widen as you looked at him. ‘’I feel awkward saying this, but since I’m busy with volleyball 24/7, I don’t have time outside of that, and I think my mom feels like she needs to be my eyes. She does have a good eye, though.’’ You couldn’t help but give him a tiny smile. ‘’So what did you know about this situation? Because all I knew was that you were single, played volleyball, and disliked raisins in your cookies.’’ You responded. ‘’Well, she asked me to show up this morning, and I showed up because I’ve seen you before, and I think you look cute, and my mom thinks very highly of you. Honestly, I couldn’t pass up the chance to get to know you… Even if it was only for an hour before you kicked me out.’’ He was laughing out loud now. ‘’It’s awkward when your boss wants to set you up with her son! Especially if he’s cute!’’ You had just exposed yourself. ‘’Well yeah, I’ve seen you passing by too, Akaashi, and the fact that you were nice enough to bring me good food after I was such an asshole. I guess your mom was right; you’re indeed such a good boy.’’ The last part was somewhat mocking, and the both of you were getting comfortable with each other as you laughed aloud. ‘’Let’s close the store.’’ You said as you started putting the dishes in the tiny dishwasher.

‘’I will walk you home, Y/n, and please call me Keji from now on.’’ You couldn’t help but feel flustered since he was staring at you as he said it. The two of you had started the 10-minute walk to your house as you responded. ‘’Alright, Keji, but this wasn’t a date.’’ Still not wanting to let Mrs. Akaashi win this little thing, even though you knew she already had. ‘’Don’t worry, this isn’t a date.’’ He stated after a few minutes before he stopped walking. ‘’Keji, what’s wrong?’’ You asked. ‘’But I want it to be one….’’ He whispered. And he looked so kind, so hopeful and made you so eager to get to know him better, that you walked up to him and gave him a small peck on his cheek before whispering: ‘’Then take me on one.’’ And as soon as you entered your apartment, you did a happy dance.

Akaashi, on the other hand, realized he had forgotten to ask for your number. Oh well, he was lucky that his mom was such a matchmaker…

[words-writ-in-starlight]

For the ask meme: Sarah x Jareth (I almost wrote that as David Bowie), 14, 22, and 29!

I am RIGHT NOW watching Labyrinth with my partners, EXCELLENT timing!  Cut for length.

14) When one has a cold, what does the other do?

Jareth has never been “sick” a day in his immortal life.  He’s been stabbed, poisoned, cursed, and hungover, but even the weakest goblin is rarely “sick” and Jareth hasn’t spend enough time around mortals to have a good grasp of the fact that nonfatal illnesses even exist.    

Point is, there’s an intermediary period between Sarah pointedly ignoring every owl in sight, no matter the coloring, and Sarah becoming the Goblin Queen where she forces him to visit the mortal world more than he has in living memory, including his.  (Jareth has a vague sense that he might have been here more often once--perhaps when he was young, before he was King--but he’s been King so long, and the Labyrinth has a chain-tight grip on its own.)  Toby is entranced, and also terrified--he doesn’t buy Jareth’s glamour for a second.  Sarah spends half her life running interference on Jareth’s behavior, and the other half doing a double major in political sciences and folklore.  Which she decided to get before she agreed to start talking to Jareth again, thank you, kindly fuck off.

Point is, eventually even Sarah’s suspiciously excellent immune system clocks out for the day, and she wakes up with a splitting headache, a wet and congested cough, and a sense that her skin is being abraded by even her softest sheets.  She’s not sick-sick, it’s just a nasty head cold with a fever, but she calls out of class and flops down on the couch and mumbles non-answers to the goblin who lives in the top of her closet when it scuttles out to see why she’s still home.

She doesn’t even realize Jareth is there until she feels a shadow fall over her and cracks an eye to peer up at him blearily.

“What’s wrong with you?” he asks in his most forbidding Goblin King voice, and she groans and pulls her blanket over her head.

“Go away, Jareth, I’m tired.”

“I will not,” he says automatically as he jerks the blanket down to her shoulder, and then he’s crouching down in front of her, mismatched eyes dangerous and inhumanly bright in the yellow light of her little dorm apartment.  “Who did this to you, Sarah?  I will not leave without an answer.”

“No one,” she says, squinting up at him.  “It’s just a cold.”

“’Cold’,” he repeats, in the same skeptical way that he said ‘phone’ when she complained about his unannounced visits.  “I am not aware of that particular toxin.”

“I’m just sick, it’s not like I’ve been poisoned.”

“An illness?”  He pauses, pulls a glove off one hand and reaches out to touch her cheek experimentally.  His fingers are always cold compared to hers, and she shivers hard when he touches her skin, but he doesn’t flinch.  There’s something odd on his face, a locked-up hardness, and he says, “What is it?”

“A cold,” Sarah says again, pulling her blankets back up to her chin and shutting her eyes.  “I’m just going to feel like garbage for a few days.  Probably less if you let me sleep.  Come back and bother me on Saturday.”

He doesn’t leave.  Whatever, Sarah decides--that’s his problem.  She’s tired and feverish and annoyed and she’s going to sleep whether Jareth likes it or not.  She thinks he’s talking to someone--probably that snitch in the closet--about something--sounded vaguely like library and cold--but that’s Not Her Concern.  Sarah is done here.  She feels the end of the couch sink down by her feet just before she falls asleep.

When she wakes up, the Goblin King is still there, reading a book filched from one of her shelves, pen tapping idly against his lips--he’s marking up the fairy tales again, god, she hates his guts sometimes--and there’s a series of tidy piles on the rickety coffee table.  It looks like someone robbed a pharmacy and cleaned out their Cough And Cold aisle, and then sorted their booty by color, which suggests probably goblins just smart enough to recognize a word their king showed them, but not smart enough to read the labels.

Sarah smiles a little and grabs some cough drops from the top of the red pile, and condescends to drape her legs over Jareth’s lap before she goes back to sleep.

22) Where does their first kiss happen?

Sarah has a much harder time in college than she expected.  Not with being away from home, although she does miss Toby something awful and spends every second of her breaks with him.  No, the problem is that she has to share a room.  All the way through freshman year, she has a roommate, and--

And the roommate is fine, she’s a perfectly inoffensive girl from Chicago who keeps her things on her own side of the shoebox room they share and doesn’t bring anyone back to the room and never makes noise late at night, but Sarah hates it.  She can’t quite put her finger on why--is a little afraid of what she might say if pressed, if she’s honest.  She has these half-finished thoughts that involve words like territory and invader and mine.  Sarah has worked very hard not to be a selfish teenager or, possibly worse, the kind of girl who sometimes talks to a Goblin King and wonders privately if his final offer was serious.

Sarah has no plans to be the Goblin Queen, is the point, no matter what Hoggle mutters under his breath when she admits, the summer after her first year of college, that she’s talking to Jareth again.  (He just--he can come see her, there, and he can look like a person, and none of her other friends can, and people are weirdly nervous of Sarah, these days, and she was lonely, okay, so she let an owl into her room while her roommate was gone, and let them who never made a bad choice in college throw the first stone.)  And that means getting over herself and never voicing any of the thoughts that creep into her head about how her roommate, who has every right to sleep here, deserves to be thrown in an oubliette for disturbing Sarah’s peace.

Sarah is better than that, these days.

The only person who isn’t fooled is, of course, Jareth, who is very perceptive and also very persistently determined to visit regularly.  He smothers smirks when he sees Sarah force herself to be kind, and once offers, sweet as arsenic, to take Sarah’s roommate off her hands if you just say the right words, precious.  Sarah glares at him and pointedly turns her back, and he laughs as he leaves.  But he never does anything to her roommate, and Sarah doesn’t think about how Jareth never actually does anything to her space or anything in it, and doesn’t think about the rules that fairy tales handed down for millennia about places that fall under the power of a creature not to be toyed with.

She’s signed up to room with the same girl for sophomore year, because she doesn’t have a reason to claim a single and seniors always snap up the free ones.  But she shows up to get her key, and the registrar frowns and clicks a few things and then shrugs and hands Sarah a key.  He gives Sarah directions to one of the buildings up-campus, and Sarah goes, not particularly suspicious--she’s never been to the up-campus buildings, because people are nervous around Sarah and, while she’s manages to make a friend or two, no one really invites her back to their room.  Into their space.

Sarah opens her door and stands there, staring, mildly shocked.

Apparently, she is now the proud resident of a senior-only dorm room, one of the very tiny apartments that are supposed to house two people, with a kitchenette and a couch and everything.  There’s no one else’s name on the other door.  Sarah is late moving in, but there’s no sign of anyone here, except--

The Goblin King is sitting at the desk in the bedroom that gets the most sunlight, feet kicked lazily up on the wooden top and playing a pair of crystals between his fingers, and he smirks at her.

“I know, I know,” he drawls, vanishing the crystals with a twist of his fingers.  “I have no power over you.  But the school’s quartermaster--”

“Registrar,” Sarah corrects automatically.  He makes a dismissive gesture.  “Did you--do this?”

“Of course,” Jareth says.  “This...situation is apparently the height of luxury at this institution.  You did so despise that fluttering creature--”

“Molly was perfectly nice--”

“--and I see no reason for you to endure her for another year.”

Sarah--should really say that he’s an interfering, high-handed bastard who pretends that he has the divine right to arrange her life to his liking, and keeps rules-lawyering his way around her totally legitimate freedom from his interference.

Sarah really doesn’t want to share a room again.

“What do you want in return?”  She doesn’t even pretend that she’s not suspicious, and he puts on an offended face, bringing his feet down and pressing his lips together.

“It is a gift, Sarah.”

...oh.  Sarah blinks for a moment.  He sounds--geniunely annoyed.  Gifts are, in her knowledge of the Underground and the fae alike, serious business.

She acts without thinking, takes a step forward and tucks her hair behind her ear, and kisses the high point of his cheekbone above his frown.  When she pulls back, she sees a moment of transparent, raw shock before he orders his face into a self-satisfied and haughty raised eyebrow.

“Don’t say anything,” Sarah tells him, feeling her cheeks burn.  “If you can keep your mouth shut, this might resemble a nice moment.”

“If I had known that I could claim debts in kisses--”

“You can’t!” Sarah interrupts loudly.  “Don’t get any ideas!  Now get out and let me unpack!”

29) Why do they fall a little bit more in love?

Jareth is already thoroughly decided that Sarah is eventually going to agree to be his queen, one way or another, by the time she finally sighs and opens her window and tells the owl that if he’s very very good, and doesn’t talk to Toby, and looks like a regular person, she will speak to him just to get him to stop lurking.  He breaks all of those rules very quickly, of course, but she doesn’t kick him out--instead, she yells at him, and he puts on his coldest and haughtiest voice as he snaps back at her, and it’s fun.  Jareth never could turn down a challenge, and it’s been a long time since he faced a challenge he might lose, and just like the first time, it makes him ruthlessly determined to win.

It’s not news to him, therefore, that he loves her.

She manages to lie, obfuscate, and generally bullshit her way around admitting what she does at school for nearly three years.  But she starts writing her thesis and slips up, and Jareth is stretched on her bed in the apartment he arranged for her like he lives there when he idly picks up a piece of paper and skims her proposal and she sees his eyebrow rise slowly before he holds it up at her.

“What’s this, precious?”

“Homework,” she says flatly.

“‘Thesis Proposal,’” he reads aloud, drawling.  “‘Sarah Williams.  Proposed title: I’d’ve Et Thy Heart of Flesh: Fairy Tales as a Portrait of Royalty Through History.  Majors: Folklore and...’”  His mocking drawl pauses, and he can’t quite hide his transparent delight as he finishes the sentence.  “‘...and Political Science.’”  

When he looks up from the page, she has a stubborn set to her mouth and a bright spark in her eyes, almost angry.  “It’s not about you, you arrogant prick, I picked my majors years ago.  Give me that, I need the notes.”

“And what do fairy tales say about royalty, dearest?”

“That they’re prideful jerks who steal kids for armies and play favorites--the paper, Jareth.”

“And what do you plan to do with your degree in politics?”

“Regicide,” Sarah snaps, and jumps out of her chair to snatch the paper out of his fingers.  He lets her, and smiles at the way she blushes stark red across her cheekbones and down her throat, and wonders whether she would like the emerald ring he’s kept in his private chambers for the past three years.

Mortals have been doing diamonds, for betrothals, but he thinks green suits her better.

[angelicyoongie]

desolate (8)

— summary: you just wanted a cute little normal cat to keep you company. so, you're not really sure how you ended up with the grumpiest hybrid on earth that seems hellbent on making your life difficult.

— pairing: cat hybrid yoongi x human reader

— genre: angst, fluff, eventual smut

— word count: 3.9k

— tag list: @mrcleanheichou​​ @ladymidnightt​​ @cheese123344​ @xanny91​ @dinorahrodriguez​​ @best-space-boy​​ @dulcaet​ @moccahobi​​ @keijaycreates​ @staytrillswag​ @xsmilebitesx​ @serendipityoreuphoria​ @jiminot7​ @beyond-the-swag​ @nananaum1​ @mult1wh0re @ditttiii​ @faithsummers11​ @twomilkmen-gocomedy​ @theonewholovestoread​ @karissassirak​ @veryuniquenamegoeshere​ @yourlipssoirresistible​ @ayoo-bangtan​ @murderyoursoul​ @btsxdoll​ @see3milyblog​ @gukiyi​ @mtgforall @narcissism-iskey​ @sp3ak-yours3lf​ @cesthoney​ @imluckybitches​ @hd-junglebook​ @sugarrimajins​ @multifandomgirl29​ @beach-bitch-bitch-beach​ @bangtansleftnut​ @theresa-nam-nam-me​ @angeltothecore​ @ghostkat23​ @deathkat657​ @awixxx @httpmedxsa​ @veronawrites​ @bubbletae7​ @serious-addiction​ @chogiyeol-utopia​ @nomimits7​ @lorielulu7​ @1am9root6​ @sana-b​ @diamonddia-mond​ @jiminiessipabo​ @myhearttteu​ @rainbowmagicpixecorn @lidda​ @rosiethefairy​ @lovinggalaxies​ @midnight1199​ @trinityautumn​ @linniewritesficz​ @fearhoshi​ @ess-place @juniesoftbot​ @kingalls00​ @toribug2020​ @daydreambrliever​  @moonlight-mochi @sleepyje0n​ @yoonie-bby​ @alltimeyoongi @honestlyfuriousharmony​

Part one Part two Part three Part four Part five Part six Part seven Part nine Part ten (M) Part eleven Part twelve Part thirteen Part fourteen (M)

The bright fluorescence lights adorning the outside of the shop are starting to hurt your eyes. You’ve gotten a few weird stares, but you’re finding it hard to make your feet move an inch closer. You can’t seem to make up your mind if you’re doing the right thing or not. What if he doesn’t like it? What if he gets angry with you for treating him like you own him?

You glance sideways just in time to meet the security guard’s eyes; the uncertain expression on his face making you realize you’ve been standing in the same place like a crazy person long enough for him to do a third lap. The awkwardness prompts you enough to enter the store, although you immediately feel a little lost. You never expected you would end up in a hybrid store, at least not after you thought you had adopted a regular cat.

“Hi, welcome to Hybrids-r-us! Can I help you with anything?” A girl, probably younger than yourself, approaches you with a smile. She’s wearing a black shirt with the store’s logo on, and the nametag fastened on her chest says Soo-young.

“I’m a little lost,” You admit, hands stuffed deep into your coat pockets as you give her a sheepish smile back.

“That’s what I’m here for! So what kind of hybrid do you own?” Soo-young asks.

“Oh, I don’t–“ You cut yourself off. You do by no means own Yoongi, but it would be weird to show up at a hybrid store if you weren’t buying things for your own hybrid.

“I mean, he’s a cat hybrid,” You say, and Soo-young’s face lights up despite your little slip.

“What kind of breed is he? I have a Persian one myself! He’s the cutest little thing ever,” She rambles excitedly as she starts leading you down the aisles of various hybrid articles.

“Siberian?” You can’t help the unsure tone of your voice, considering you actually don’t have a clue what type of breed he actually is. But you know your old neighbour’s cat was a Siberian, and since Yoongi reminded you so much of him when you first saw him, you figure his breed can’t be too far off.

“He’s a fluffy one!” Soo-young squeals, stopping in front of a section marked as ‘cat hybrids’. “I would recommend getting him some clothes from these racks, they have bigger cut-outs for fluffier tails,” You listen attentively as she lists of her recommendations, following her gestures to see what products she thinks might work and what she thinks Yoongi might enjoy. You wince inwardly as you think of the crude hole you cut into your sweatpants so that they would fit with Yoongi’s tail. You’re sure it can’t be too comfortable even if the fabric is soft.

“Call for me if you need any help!” Soo-young leaves you to pick out your stuff by yourself, you giving her a quiet thanks as you turn around to face the massive selection of clothes.

Your wallet is lighter than it should be, so you make a bee-line towards the clearance racks, making sure that you pick out clothes from the right ones. You didn’t even think that the clothes would differ based on breeds, and so you’re thankful for Soo-young’s input. You have no idea what Yoongi likes or what his style is considering he’s just been pulling clothes from your closet so far, and so you try to stick to neutral colours. Black and white are classics for a reason after all.

You probably should have asked for Yoongi’s size, but you know where your own clothes are either loose or tight on him, and so you try your best to eyeball it. After you’ve picked out a decent amount of clothes, at least enough to give Yoongi some different outfits to circle through; you follow the direction Soo-young pointed you in earlier to the skin and hair care section.

There’s an overwhelming amount of different products to choose from, but you try to go for those that promise to give silky soft fur and extra shine. You know cats love to groom themselves, so hopefully that applies to their hybrid counterparts as well.

You try not to look at the amount after Soo-young is done ringing up your things for Yoongi. You can already tell it’s too much compared to the little sum that’s supposed to last you another two weeks. But, Yoongi deserves it. You’re not sure how long he’s staying, but he deserves to have his own things and feel at home – for however long that might be.

The bags crinkle obnoxiously loud in the stairwell up to your floor, and you just pray Yoongi won’t take your gesture the wrong way. As you step in front of your door, it flies open before you can even reach for your key. A slender hand reaches out to pull you inside, and you barely manage to squeeze through the opening before Yoongi leans over your shoulder to close the door behind you.

“You’re home late,” Yoongi’s breath tickles against your ear as he locks the door, the ticklish sensation making you clutch the bags tighter in response. His chest brushes against your shoulder as he steps back, but you find the space he’s given you to breathe doesn’t do much when his eyes are locked so intensely onto yours.

“Why?” He prompts, eyebrow quirking at the lack of response.

“Oh uh, I went shopping! After work .. That’s why I’m home late,” You grimace. It had been a spur of the moment thing; otherwise you would’ve let Yoongi know beforehand. You wish you had enough money to get him a phone, but sadly, that just isn’t in your budget at all right now.

Yoongi’s eyes finally slide down to the bags in your hands, head tilting curiously as he sees the logo plastered on the sides.

“It’s for you,” You thrust the bags towards him, a flush creeping up your neck as Yoongi gives you a weird look.

“For me? Why?”

“You need your own clothes, you can’t just keep stealing mine.” Yoongi gives you a half-hearted shrug in response, but his tail does an interested flick despite the nonchalant expression on his face.

You rattle the bags in impatience, and Yoongi swipes them out of your hands with a huff.

“Go wait in the living room,” Yoongi mutters as he breezes past you to go into the bathroom. You’re not entirely sure why he wants to wait there, but you oblige easy – only stopping to remove your coat and shoes.

You’re not sure what you were expecting, but Yoongi holding his own personal fashion show definitely wasn’t it. You have to bite down on your lips to hold back the smile threatening to take over your whole face as he ventures back and fourth between the bathroom and the living room, showing off new clothing every time. You can tell he’s trying his best to seem disinterested, but the little quirk of his lips and the more energized spring in his step tells you everything you need to know.

“What about these? Are they too tight?” Yoongi gives you a slow spin, showing off the black pair of jeans you picked out. You feel the smile die on your lips as your eyes follow the curve of Yoongi’s body, your throat going dry as you realize they probably fit him too well. “Maybe a little?” You squeak, desperately trying to subtly clear your throat to make your voice sound normal again. You’re not sure how you’ll survive being at home if he starts wearing those jeans frequently. Yoongi peers down at his legs, taking a few steps back and forth. He lets out a low hum.

“I like them,” He smirks; the look in his eyes perhaps a little too knowing for your liking. Yoongi walks out of the room before you can convince him otherwise, his fluffy tail swishing languidly behind him. You wait for a second to make sure he’s gone before you reach up to fan your face, desperately trying to make the heat in your cheeks go away before he returns.

Thankfully for you though, Yoongi settles on using a new pair of sweatpants you got for him instead. You’re both relaxing on the couch and finishing up your dinners, the TV providing some mindless entertainment in the background.

Yoongi silently collects your plates, the expression on his face seeming a little torn as he brings them out into the kitchen. It takes a few minutes before Yoongi returns, when he does, his ears are turned back, posture tense as he drops down on the couch besides you.

“I need to tell you something,” Yoongi grumbles out before you can ask. His tail is resting in his lap, pale fingers threading through the long fur. The cat hybrid’s jaw is clenched as he stares out into the room, and you feel the mood of the room turn like someone has flipped a switch.

“Okay ..” You murmur hesitantly. Yoongi lets out a slow sigh, like it pains his lungs to just even expel the air.

“I think I need to tell you about my past – why you found me at the shelter,” Yoongi’s dark eyes flicker over to you quickly before he moves his gaze back to the wall. You suck in a quick breath, the topic catching you completely off guard. Your stomach twists uncomfortably as you give him an encouraging nod in response.

“I’m not hiding because I did anything wrong. I just .. needed to get away. The last place I lived wasn’t – it wasn’t good,” He swallows thickly, ears pulling back until they’re flat against his head.  

“Actually, it was a hellhole. My owner –” Yoongi’s lips curl in disgust as he spits out the word, “was an abusive ass. He didn’t care about me unless he needed someone to let his anger out on,” You sink further down into the couch as Yoongi’s words knock into you one by one. It’s not like this is something you haven’t encountered before, hell, your job is dealing with cases like Yoongi’s, but it still feels like someone has plunged a knife inside your chest.

“One night he came home drunk. He passed out in the hallway, but I just knew, I knew he would wake up in a few hours and lay all of his fucking issues onto me and I was just so tired,” Yoongi’s voice breaks, his shoulders hunching as he brings his tail closer to his body. You feel sick as you notice Yoongi’s fingers dragging over clear patches of skin between his fur. You’ve seen that a lot in your case files. Punishment for misbehaving. You advert your eyes back to Yoongi’s face, feeling guilty for never having noticed it before.

“So I ran. I had tried it once before, but a stray hybrid is so easily noticed. I knew that if I got caught again and sent back that I wouldn’t ..” Yoongi trails off, voice barely above a whisper. He doesn’t need to finish his sentence for you to understand what he meant to say. I wouldn’t have survived.  

“It’s easier to hide as a cat, but I suppose someone saw me loitering around in the same area for too long and decided to call it in. Hybrid shelters normally don’t accept regular animals; but I guess the one you found me at did, at least until they could transfer me to a proper one. It really wasn’t that difficult to convince them I wasn’t a hybrid, you just got to pretend really hard to not understand what they’re saying or doing,” Yoongi shrugs half-heartedly, a bitter smile on his lips.

“I was there for a month before you adopted me, or well, cat me. Hybrid me is still legally owned by that fuckhead,” He hisses, hands shaking as he gathers them in his lap.

“I couldn’t tell anyone in case they sent me back. There was no one I could trust.”

Your eyes are burning with unshed tears. The more you get to know about Yoongi’s story the angrier you feel. You just can’t understand why people would treat hybrids like that – fellow humans like that. Yoongi looks so small and beaten down sitting on the opposite side of the couch of you, and you can’t believe your snarky kitty has been carrying something like this by himself for so long. You can’t help but feel like you’ve somehow failed him – that you could’ve done better.

“There was no one .. until you,” Yoongi utters softly, the mellow voice shutting down your screaming thoughts.

“Yoongi ..” You breathe, your throat so choked up it’s hard to say anything else. The cat hybrid shakes his head as he turns to look at you, a gentle smile forming on his lips as he sees your glossy eyes.

“I just thought you deserved to know why I’m here. No need to get sappy,” He huffs, reaching forward to swipe his thumb across your cheek. You’re surprised to see moisture clinging to his finger as he pulls back, and you hastily run your hands under your eyes to catch any other stray tears. You let out a weak laugh, embarrassed that you didn’t even know you were crying.

“But why the sudden honesty?” You ask. Today was the same as yesterday, and the day before. Well ..  almost the same.

“You didn’t feel like you had to tell me because I brought you clothes, right?” You feel horrified. What if Yoongi felt like he owed you something?

Yoongi takes a look at your panic stricken expression and snorts, his long fingers reaching out to grab yours. He gives your hand a squeeze, his thumb running over your knuckles.

“Don’t worry y/n. It was just as I said; I thought you deserved to know. Who knows what will happen tomorrow, or the day after that. I just wanted at least one person to be aware of my situation in case ..” He trails off, eyes growing blank as he stares out the window behind your shoulder. He looks tired, you notice. Maybe he hasn’t been sleeping as well as you thought he had. Or maybe this has been weighing on his mind for quite some time. Whatever it is, you’re determined to fix it.

“Ah well, now you know!” He seems to snap himself out of whatever thoughts that took over him, the glint you’ve grown so accustomed to returning to his eyes.

“Yeah, now I know,” You give his hand a squeeze in return, but for you, it’s more than just a confirmation. It’s a promise.

You’re not that surprised that you end up with Yoongi’s soft hair between your fingers again. He has a hand curled around your knee, head resting on top of your thighs.

“This might sound weird – but the first time I saw you I really thought I was seeing a ghost,” You mutter. Your fingers halt momentarily, the memory of when you first saw Yoongi at the shelter still so vivid in your mind. Yoongi makes a disgruntled noise at the sudden lack of contact, nudging his head back against your palm until you take the hint and resume your scratching.

“A ghost?” He questions, his voice muffled against the fabric of your sweats.

“Yeah. You reminded me so much of my neighbour’s old cat. You were like a splitting image,” You hum, a smile slipping onto your lips as you remember how cute Fluffball was.

“But of course, now I know you’re two very different cats. He was never as grumpy as you are,” You stifle down a laugh as Yoongi’s tail flickers irritably. He’s too easy to annoy.

“What happened?” He grumbles out.

“He passed away. My neighbour said he had suddenly gotten sick and there wasn’t anything that could be done to help him. I cried for like a week afterwards,” You frown, the little special place you have for Fluffball in your heart aching as you remember how upset you were.

“I’m sorry,” Yoongi’s tail curls around your wrist, the long silky fur almost ticklish against your skin. You hear the hesitation in his voice before he continues,

“I often heard that I looked like my mom,” He murmurs.

“Really? What’s she like?” You run your fingers down to the back of his neck, brushing over the shorter hairs at his nape.

“I–I don’t remember. I was taken away when I was really young,” Yoongi says quietly, his tone mournful. You don’t even want to imagine how Yoongi must have felt, so young and alone and probably terrified all by himself.

“I’m sorry,” You echo his words back to him, your voice barely above a whisper. You clench your jaw tightly as you continue to stroke the his hair; the same low hitching purrs rumbling out of his chest once your conversation lulls. You’re going to make sure Yoongi’s owner will have hell to pay for all the things he has done to him, even if it’s the last thing you do.

You lean back in your chair with a sigh, the light from your computer screen almost making your eyes water. Your computer is whirring loudly in protest as it tries to process all the new data and files you’ve entered into it. It’s way past due for an update, but it isn’t like you are going to go and ask your boss for a new one now. Not when the whole company is still in shambles trying to figure out the breach.

The office is almost completely empty, and it only makes your struggling computer sound even more pitiful. You stare mindlessly at the glowing circle that has replaced your cursor, knowing you can’t do anything else until it has worked through everything you asked it to.

“Staying late?” A deep voice startles you out of your thoughts, making you jump as you swivel around on your chair. You’re greeting by the kind face of Mr. Yang, an older man that has worked here even longer than you have. You honestly consider him as some sort of distant uncle.

“You bet,” You wince. “Got a load of new cases today, and this old thing doesn’t seem to want to cooperate,” You jab your thumb over your shoulder to direct his attention to the screen behind you.

He gives you a knowing sigh, dusting off his hat before he places it on his head.

“Well don’t stay too late now, you hear me? This whole hacking business is making me anxious,” He gives your shoulder a friendly pat, his face tight with worry as he notices the pretty much deserted office aside from you.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be out of here as soon as this finishes logging the new data,” You give him a tired smile, and Mr. Yang takes that as his clue to leave. He tips his hat with a smile of his own as he passes, and you settle back down in your chair, pretty sure you’re in for the long haul. Thankfully you remembered to tell Yoongi that you would probably be coming home late –new case files almost always resulted in you working overtime to catch up.

It doesn’t even take five minutes before your computer screen goes black, the whirring fan stuttering loudly before it promptly shuts off. You curse under your breath, annoyed that it had to act up now, with the office close to empty and the IT department most likely abandoned long ago. You try pressing the power button repeatedly, but to no avail. You’re going to need help if you want it to work again.

You push out of your chair with a huff, opting to leave your stuff behind as you hurry towards the staircase. The likelihood of the IT department being empty is high, but you at least have to check to make sure.

Your footsteps echo loudly as you descend down the two flights of stairs. You always dislike staying at work late, the normally bustling building feeling so eerie when it’s quiet and empty. You shake of the tight feeling in the back of your neck, rolling your shoulders purposefully as you push the door to the IT department open.

There’s no need to feel nervous, there isn’t like anything is suddenly going to pop out of the dark and grab you. Maybe you should stop watching those scary movies that has been marathoning on TV for the past week.

The floor is dark, as you expected. You’re about to turn around when you notice a light further down in the room, the blue hue of it unmistakable. It seems like one worker is staying late after all. You trudge down the middle of the room, passing by the empty desks one by one until you get closer to the source of the light. It’s a computer that’s still on, the screen lighting up the desk in a soft glow. But as you come closer, you realize that this desk seems empty too.

“Maybe they forgot to turn it off,” You mutter, the silence in the large room swallowing up your words. Your eyes travel over the empty desk, a flash of pink rooting you in your spot. You lean in closer, your eyes widening in alarm as you recognize the cat-formed sticky notes.

You don’t understand how they ended up here. No one from the IT department has been near your area lately, and you can’t imagine anyone from your floor bringing it down here either. Moving your gaze ever so slightly makes you suck in a harsh breath. Lying next to your sticky note pad is the unmistakable shape of your favourite pen, the end of it showing off the indents of your teeth from all your nervous biting.

You grip the edge of the desk tightly as you realize that your thing going missing aren’t a coincidence, nor is it just your co-workers simply displacing them. You suddenly realize that you do not want to meet the owner of this desk, your work be damned. This isn’t something you want to deal with now, and especially not alone.

You quickly turn around, legs ready to bolt out of there, but you freeze in your tracks as you see the large shadow blocking your path. You take a hesitant step backwards as the shadow moves closer, your legs knocking into the sides of the desk.

The movement is enough to finally bring the figure into the light from the computer screen, and you feel your heart stop as you recognize the lanky stature and big eyes staring right back at you. It’s the same guy you saw that day in the lunchroom with Jihyo, and the same guy that was loitering outside of your boss’ office.

You can see the surprise flit across his face as he realizes that it’s you, but the blank expression his face quickly settles into makes your stomach lurch uneasily.

It’s only then that it dawns on you what kind of situation you’re really in. You’re here all alone, pressed up against a desk in the dark with no possible escape – at least not unless it’s through the man in front of you.

You’re trapped.

You’re screwed.

- - - -

Hello! Hope you enjoyed the eight chapter of desolate, now we’re just over halfway there! Some backstory was on the menu today .. And uh oh, what's going to happen to y/n now? 👀

Hope you’re all well and my inbox is always open if you want to chat about the story or just fics or life in general! See you all soon! <3

[retrievablememories]

how’s this? | johnny (m)

title: how’s this? pairing: johnny x reader genre: non!idol au, smut request: “Can you please write a smut scenario with Johnny where Y/N and him are best friends and he comes in her apartment unannounced to find Y/N in lingerie in the mirror. Unbothered she asks him what he thinks.” word count: 3.6k warnings: kinda-but-not-really voyeurism?, oral sex (69), dirty talk, a lil angst? a/n: the title is from the hyuna song, although the song itself doesn’t really relate. i don’t feel as confident about this fic compared to my others tbh, but... 🤕

Johnny is your best friend. There’s little you don’t know about each other, few things you haven’t done together—well, at least on a platonic level. You might’ve kissed each other once or twice, when you were younger and still trying to figure out the opposite gender, but little more than that has happened between you.

You’re endlessly grateful that he can be someone so reliable, someone who guards all of your secrets and bad moments like they were his own and knows you inside and out.

His place in your life earned him the honorary perk of getting a key to your apartment when you first moved in, so he could drop by whenever he needed to, or whenever you felt like having him. He’s used it on more than one occasion, but he tries not to encroach upon your space too often, knowing you like time to yourself, too.

You are Johnny’s best friend. He values your friendship among some of his closest relationships, and there’s rarely a day when you don’t cross his mind. He appreciates your humor, your personality, and your support of even his wildest endeavors, fueled by the idea of you two always being there for each other.

For Johnny, your closeness makes it a little harder for him to come to grips with the fact that he likes you much, much more than friends are supposed to. He’s not quite sure when the scales tipped this way, unable to pinpoint a specific moment in time when the lines blurred, but part of him hopes that this is the one thing he can keep from you. He’s convinced that you see him practically like a brother and nothing more, and although there have been many times when he wanted to confess, he’d rather not jeopardize your relationship over his feelings.

Even if that means he has to spend many of his nights fucking his hand and pretending its you, or writing new songs and realizing all the lyrics are about you.

It’s hard not to think about you this way—and it’s especially difficult whenever he, Jaehyun, and Mark debut a new song at the cafe where they do regular performances. You’re always at the front, watching him and his bandmates with admiration and cheering them on with your other friends. For just a few hours, he can allow himself to believe that your smile is only for him.

Your apartment key comes in handy on one miserable day when Johnny is locked out of his place and it’s pouring down rain. Of course this happens the one time he forgets to check the forecast and leaves without an umbrella.

Your apartment is the closest to where he lives, close enough to walk to—run, in this weather—so he heads there without a second thought. After dealing with shitty customers at work and now this, he’s not in the mood to talk with his prickly landlord about his key; that will have to wait until tomorrow. He holds his bag over his head as he makes his way to your place, wondering if he should text you first. His phone is liable to get drowned as soon as he pulls it out, though, so he reasons that he has enough time before you get home from work to let you know he’s come by.

He’s relieved when he reaches your apartment building a few minutes later, soggy and cold, and he spends a few moments wringing himself out as best as he can before heading up the stairs.

Johnny takes the stairs two at a time until he reaches your floor, and soon enough he’s standing in front of your door. He slips his key into the lock and walks in, a pleasant shiver going down his spine from the warmth of your apartment.

He’s surprised when he hears music coming from your room. It’s loud enough that you likely can’t hear him, because you usually would’ve appeared at the sound of the door opening if you weren’t already in the front room.

Maybe he isn’t thinking entirely straight today—the earlier events did do a number on his composure. Any other time he would’ve made himself known before walking into your bedroom, but he makes a beeline for the door after dropping his things to the floor. You’ll probably fuss at him for the mess later, but he’ll make it up to you somehow.

Johnny pops into the doorway, already feeling less stressed out by the idea of seeing you. “Whassup bestie—” He’s stopped in his tracks by the sight of you standing in your full length mirror.

You’re wearing a black lingerie set, one with more lace than he knows what to do with. Something warm settles in his stomach as his eyes drink in your body, exploring every line and curve in a way that he hasn’t quite allowed himself to before. He’s seen you in bathing suits before, but in this entirely new context, something about the way the material hugs your body makes his blood rush south.

You quickly notice him standing there, though you don’t react with shock or even annoyance like he expected.

You and Johnny stare at each other for a few long seconds. He grips the doorknob as if he means to close the door, or maybe he just needs something to keep himself upright. His mouth hangs half-open from the words he meant to stay that promptly died on his lips. You smile coolly, finally breaking the tension, and his cock twitches at the sight of you grinning at him like that while wearing your pretty lingerie.

In hindsight, he’s surprised this situation hasn’t happened sooner.

“What do you think?” you ask, speaking a little louder to be heard over the music. You turn back to the mirror to give yourself another once-over. “It’s new. I bought it not too long ago, but this is my first time trying it on.”

“I…” Johnny knows the tips of his ears and his face must be red by now. “It looks great on you, really, um...really sexy.”

You smirk. “Good to know.” You turn away from him to shut off the speaker, and even with the music still on, you can hear his sharp intake of breath when his gaze falls to your ass. With the music now off, you casually walk over to where he stands. By now, you’ve given him a full show, and he has just enough shame left to pretend like he wasn’t staring.

“You’re soaking wet,” you say, furrowing your eyebrows at the state of his clothes and hair. You peel Johnny’s jacket apart to expose more of his shirt, which sticks to him and outlines his abs as clear as day. “You should take a shower before you get sick or something.”

Johnny is a little bewildered at the unaffected way you speak to him after being walked in on while wearing nothing but a few scraps of fabric. “I-it’s not like I brought any other clothes,” he says, willing himself to look in your eyes and not at your breasts as he speaks.

“Then I’ll put these in the dryer and you can wear them again later,” you say it as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “But seriously, get undressed…” You trace your finger against the collar of his shirt, and that one motion has his Adam’s apple bobbing as he tries to swallow. “...you’re dripping all over my floor.”

Johnny can only nod at your instruction. Light flirting is nothing new for either of you, but this situation feels charged in a way he hasn’t experienced with you before. He dares to wonder if you could maybe feel something for him too; and does that mean he failed at hiding his own feelings like he thought he could? His mind grows a little hazy at the idea of this going somewhere further, though he isn’t sure if he should hope for that much yet.

“Seriously, go, Johnny. You look like a drenched cat.” You push him gently in the direction of your bathroom, and he finally trudges down the hall with his head spinning.

--

Johnny leans his head against the tile wall of the shower, enveloped by the citrusy smell of your body wash. He turns the knob a little closer to the cold setting and closes his eyes, letting the water rush across his body. He’ll warm himself up under the hot water later, but right now he needs to take care of the problem throbbing between his legs. He can’t quite bring himself to masturbate in your bathroom with you only feet away in the apartment, so he settles for the classic cold shower until he can regain his thoughts.

Sighing, he pushes his fingers through his hair and thinks back to all the times he could’ve admitted his feelings but didn’t. “...Shit. I’m an idiot.”

--

Johnny walks back into your room with a towel around his waist. You’re leisurely lying on the bed scrolling through your phone, still wearing your two-piece set. He has a good view of your ass in this position, and he groans inwardly as he feels his dick trying to come back to life. Maybe he should’ve jerked off in the shower after all. You sit up when you hear him step into the room, throwing your phone on the bed beside you.

“You good?”

“I’m fine,” he says, though he doesn’t feel like it. His clothes aren’t done drying yet, and he didn’t think far enough ahead to consider that he’d be wandering around in nothing but a towel until then, but it’s too late to change that. He sits on the edge of the bed. “Look...are you...up to something?”

“Up to what, Jonathan?” You like calling him this when you want to tease him a little, though it takes much more than that to ever truly upset him. He isn’t quite sure how to frame his question now that he’s said it. Wearing that lingerie probably isn’t the best answer, because you’d been doing that before he ever entered your apartment. But the fact that you haven’t put anything else on yet has the wheels in his mind turning.

“Like, do you…are you...” He wiggles his eyebrows and glances over your body, trying to play it off like he’s joking, but you aren’t buying whatever he’s trying to sell. The usual finesse he has when flirting has vacated the premises.

“I know you’re not losing it over some underwear, Johnny.” You say this, but your eyes signal that you already know how he feels about it. “It’s not that different from our trips to the beach.”

“Come on. The beach is way different from this, Y/N.”

“Then tell me what’s different.”

“The difference is that I want to fuck you.” It slips out before he can really think it through, but it’s too late to snatch the words back now. He worries if he’s toed too far across the line. “Um, I mean—if you want? I don’t want to make shit weird—”

You crowd in behind Johnny, pressing your breasts against his back and resting your chin on his shoulder. You know you’ve got a better handle on the situation than him right now, but you also hope he doesn’t notice the slight tremble in your body. He seems stuck between wanting to lean into you further and stay stock-still. “Is that your big secret, Johnny Suh? You want to fuck me? You should’ve just said so. It’s not weird.”

You haven’t reacted in any of the ways he thought you would tonight, and it makes him think maybe he’s fallen off on being able to read you. Before he can respond, your lips are on his. He’s almost surprised with himself at how immediately he responds to your kiss, prying your lips apart so he can slide his tongue into your mouth. He lets some of his self control slip, his cock swelling under his towel as he tastes the inside of your mouth and grips your chin.

You make light work of Johnny’s towel, slipping it away from his body and gripping his half-hard dick in your hand. He groans into your mouth when you do this, and his first reaction is to push up into the circle of your first, wanting that friction on his skin. Your hand and his hips move in sync as you pump his shaft and he seeks more of your touch, moaning at the way your fingers spread his precum over his dick.

You break the kiss to move from behind him, settle at his side, and push against his chest. Realizing you want him to lie down, he does so, his reddish hair fanning out across your comforter. He almost shoots right back up when you lean down with his cock in your hand and draw your tongue across the tip of it, lapping up the beads of precum threatening to drip down. “Fuck, Y/N…” Your tongue passes his slit over and over again and he has to grip your thigh to ground himself, wanting nothing more than to make you deepthroat him until he comes in your mouth.

Your ass is facing him in this position, and no sooner than the idea comes in his head does he grasp your hips and maneuver you until you’re hovering above his face. You make a noise around his dick, letting him slip from your mouth before asking, “What are you doing?”

“...Returning the favor. Have you never 69’d before?”

“N-no, but…” Your thoughts trail away when he pulls your lacy panties to the side and exposes your pussy to the warm air of your room. You try to brace yourself for the sensation of his tongue on you, but instead he strokes his fingers across your outer lips, spreading you open for him. You stop your movements on his dick in response, your face burning with heat. “T-this is so—are you just gonna stare at it all night!?”

“Lower your hips more,” he says, and you do so, and you moan out loud at the first swipe of his tongue against your pussy, slow and wet. You take his shaft in your mouth again, reaching to fondle his balls as he circles his tongue over your clit.

Johnny slowly rocks his hips up, letting you find a good rhythm as you suck his dick. You are wet and warm and perfect on his tongue, and he presses your body closer so he can taste more of what you have to offer. He quickly adds his middle and index finger into the mix, searching the depths of your pussy, his cock twitching in your mouth whenever you whine or push your hips into his face just right.

It becomes a little harder to focus on pleasuring you as he nears his end, with your lips around his shaft so tight and wet and your hands squeezing him in a firm grip. “I’m gonna come,” he mumbles against your thigh, his mouth slick with your essence. That motivates you to keep working him over until his stomach tenses and his cum spurts across your tongue, thick ropes of it painting your mouth white. Some of it drips onto your hands, and you lick this up, too.

Johnny trembles and groans from the aftershocks of his orgasm, but he pulls your hips closer and continues eating you out and pushing his fingers into you until you shout and grind against his mouth, trying to ride the wave of ecstasy without tipping over. Even after you’ve already come, he sucks your clit so fiercely that you have to pinch his thigh and beg him to let up. He only lets you go after he’s pulled another gush of wetness out of you.

You assume Johnny would be in need of a break, but instead he slides you off of him and hurriedly pulls your panties down, his dick still stiff. He runs a hand across your chest and up to your neck, admiring the way the lingerie looks against your skin before undoing your bra. He wraps his lips around your nipple, teasing it into a hard peak.

“You’re still hard,” you say, though it’s more of a statement than a question, and you’re not really sure whether you’re talking to him or yourself.

“You make me this way.” He cups your other breast and lightly pinches your nipple as he says this, and for the first time tonight you feel truly flustered at how he looks at you as he makes that claim. “Do you have any condoms?”

“...The nightstand.” You watch as he rolls over to find a condom and tears it open, sliding the rubber onto his dick. He settles himself between your legs, his tip bumping into your entrance and making you sigh at the pleasure running through you.

“Are you ready?” he asks, grasping your hip with one hand and his length with the other. You nod, and he carefully sinks himself into your heat, a moan falling from his lips at how incredible you feel around him. How many times has he imagined this? The fantasies never quite measure up to the real thing.

A dozen emotions run through him—satisfaction at finally being inside you, a sense of affection that he’s trying not to think too deeply about, and genuine amazement at how you can look so pretty under him, shining with sweat and stuffed with his dick. For a split second he wonders if you two should really be doing this, about what your friendship will look like on the other side of this, but he decides not to dwell on it further when you grip his ass and push him deeper into you. “You’re really greedy,” he says half-jokingly as he pulls out and thrusts back into you.

“Then fill me up so I won’t be, Johnny.” You hold his face and close the distance between your mouths.

The room is thick with the sounds of each other’s moans and the slap of skin against skin. Johnny’s mouth hardly leaves your body, his tongue sliding across your neck and collarbones and back down to your breasts again. You hold onto him tightly as you match his thrusts, your bodies moving together at an even pace.

He grinds his hips into you so he can watch and feel you shudder as he does so, captivated at how he can get your body to react to him. He dips his head so he can kiss you again, like there aren’t enough kisses in the world for him to be truly satisfied, and you let him fuck you with his mouth and his dick as you draw your nails across his back.

Each time he circles his hips it stimulates your clit and brings you closer to orgasm, and he adds his fingers to the mix to speed along your release, wanting to experience you gushing and tightening around him. He is so intoxicated from the reality of what’s happening that the connection between his mind and mouth is becoming fuzzier, and he’s almost afraid of what he’ll say if he takes his lips away from you now.

Johnny’s pleasuring so many different parts of your body that it makes you unable to hold on any longer, and you come with your toes curling and back arching, fucking yourself onto his length with the last remnants of energy you have. You eventually slump against the bed, still reeling as he keeps stroking into you in search of his own end.

It comes soon after when you pull him by the nape of his neck and nibble and suck your way up to his ear, tugging on his piercing and whispering about how you want him to come for you. His pace becomes more erratic as he digs into you and feels his balls drawing up with his impending orgasm.

“I love...l-love your pussy,” he gasps into your neck. He is dangerously close to spilling his real emotions, but he cleans it up at the last second, unsure if this is just a platonic fuck to you or if you’d want more. He doesn’t want to ruin what you have by trying to find out, and the electricity traveling up his spine is rendering him too distracted to think over it anyway.

You continue clinging to him as Johnny bucks into you and empties his load into the condom, and you coax along his climax by squeezing your walls around him. He eventually pulls away after regaining his strength, panting and oversensitive from your actions.

“You like me,” is the first thing you say.

There’s no point in denying it now, and he can only sigh and scratch his head. “...Yeah. Actually, I’ve kinda liked you for years, so I think it’s safe to say it counts as ‘love’ now.”

You sit up, and Johnny distracts himself with tying the condom off and throwing it away, too nervous to sit still for your reaction. “But, I understand if you don’t feel the same way, I mean we’ve just been friends this whole time anyway, we can just—”

You bring your hands to Johnny’s face and cup his cheeks. “Sometimes you are really oblivious…” You lean closer to place a chaste kiss on his lips. “How could I not love you? You’re the most important person in my life.”

He pauses as if he doesn’t have a clue what you just said, then his eyes widen. You laugh at his comical expression. “You’re sure? Like, this wasn’t just a pity fuck because you felt sorry for me or something—”

“Never that.” And then you kiss him again, your lips lingering together for longer this time as his body relaxes into yours.

[repulsivepangolin7]

Fic: Night out

Word count:3830

*Two-three months after the ‘Earthquake’ event*

Street slapped on the doorframe as he office landscape part of the metro division. Neither of the three officers in there looked up.

“Hey! Luca!” he grinned as the blond looked up from his computer screen, “The rest of the team is thinking about going out tonight. Find a sweet bar and have a few drinks, would be really cool if you joined us.”

Luca flashed a brief smile, then sighed, “I don’t know…”

“Come on, we’ll make sure there’s a good bench where you can sit and have your leg up.” Street tried to bribe.

“I can’t drink…” Luca shrugged, “Pain meds and alcohol don’t mix.”

“Well, I won’t either. I’m the DD…”

“Designated driver…” he chuckled, “Yeah, guess it was your turn right about now…”

Street nodded, “Come on, the team misses you…”

“Well, I’m right here…”

“-You know what I mean…”

“Yeah, I do…” Luca nodded.

“So, can I count you in?”

Luca sighed, glancing down at the leg he had propped up on a second chair and a few pillows. “Look, I… My leg still really hurts… And I feel drained of all energy.”

Street nodded, “I feel bad trying to convince you to go out with us, but… How about you go out with us, and if you feel like you have to bail after 10-20 minutes, then that’s fine. I’ll drive you home. Just, please?”

Luca smiled a bit, “Promise? It won’t be weird?”

“Of course, no one will think it’s weird that you suddenly might feel like the couch or bed back home is a better option. We all know what happened in the first place.”

Luca nodded, “So, are we headed straight to the bar after work, or?”

“No, some of us DEFINITELY need a shower before seeing civilians.” Street chuckled.

“Good, my work pillbox is empty, so  since we’re going home first I can grab my next dose before we go out.”

Street nodded, “Forgot to fill it up?”

“No, just figured I had enough for the shift.” Luca shrugged.

Street nodded and stood a bit taller to check the coffee mug on Luca’s desk, “Want some more coffee?”

Luca chuckled, “Yeah, that’d be great.”

Street smiled and walked over to Luca’s desk to grab his mug. ��So, do you want to grab some food someplace before we go to the bar?”

“Oh, YES.” Luca beamed, “I’m hungry as F…”

Street grinned as he filled up Luca’s mug with coffee, “What kind of food do you want?”

“Anything’s good.” Luca shrugged.

“I found this new Lithuanian place. The food is amazing, not necessarily modern looking, but amazing.”

Luca grinned, “Sounds awesome.”

“We can pick it up on our way home…”

Luca nodded, “Sounds good.”

Street placed the coffee mug in front of Luca, “Alright, then I tell the team that you’re in tonight. And I’ll see you in half an hour.”

Luca nodded.

 SWATSWATSWAT

 “He’s in!” Street grinned as he returned to the rest of the team, “But we need to pick a bar where he can sit comfortably.”

“Of course.” Hondo nodded. “What about Ercoles?”

“Or Good Times At Davy Wayne’s…” Chris shrugged, “Couches there as well.”

“Barney’s Beanery?” Street shrugged.

“Ercoles…” Deacon shrugged, “Ercoles is probably the speed Luca’s up for right now.”

Street nodded, “Yeah. You’ve got a point.”

“Let’s take Ercoles.” Tan shrugged, “That’s not too far from where you live either. Shorter drive when he’s out of energy.”

Street nodded, “Another good point.”

 SWATSWATSWAT

 Street almost regretted convincing Luca that a night out with the team would be a good idea when he heard the older man hiss as something flared up while they were walking from their car to their house with the takeaway they planned on eating before going out.

“Hey, you good?”

Luca had already stopped in his track, but when Street asked he looked back up and feigned a smile. “Yeah, just…”

“Just?”

Luca shrugged.

“Couldn’t come up with a reasonable lie?”

Luca rolled his eyes, “Just didn’t want to worry you. Just had a slight muscle spasm. Nothing to even think about.”

Street raised his eyebrows, not buying what Luca tried selling at all. “Sure.”

“Look, my leg will so weird shit like this for a long time, and you know it.” Luca started hobbling again, “That it does so when my last dose of meds are almost worn out is nothing to write home about. It’s natural. I just need to get my pill and relax for like  half an hour. I’ll be good to go.”

Street kept his ‘not-believing-you’ look as he stared Luca down.

“Come on, I’m starving…” Luca complained as he stopped once more, but this time in front of Luca, “Are you going unlock the door or not? I didn’t even grab my keys this morning… -And I kinda want to sit down as well.”

Street chuckled a little and found the right key, “Alright.”

He held the door open for Luca, then he gestured to the couch, “Go sit down, I’ll get your meds. They’re on your nightstand, right?”

“Yeah, thanks…” Luca offered up a small smile as he hobbled towards the couch. He was not to proud to accept help like that when it was offered up. Once upon a not-so-distant time he might have been stubborn enough to growl in Street’s direction and claim that he could do it his damn self. But a crush injury often changes your perspective a bit.

He had just gotten himself arranged on the couch when Street rattled his pill bottle behind his shoulder.  “Here you go…”

“Thank you.” Luca winked as he took the pill bottle, twisted the cap off and popped a pill into his mouth.

“And some soda to wash it down with…” Street held up a bottle of coke, “Figured you wanted that to go with the takeout.”

“Thanks again.” Luca grinned, took the bottle and took a sip before swallowing the pill, “Now that food smells amazing… Let’s eat.”

Street nodded and placed the plastic bag with takeout on the table. “I’ll get some plates and forks. I just ordered two different platters that I like, my guess is you’ll like them as well. This way we can both have a bit of each.”

Luca nodded and adjusted the way his leg was rested on top of the pillows, not without a slight grimace.

“Look, if you feel like you need to skip out on us today, I get it…” Street said from the kitchen, “It would be awesome if you’re able to join us, but seeing how much it bothers you… The rest of the team would obviously understand.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Luca shook his head as he sat back, “I just need like half an hour and for the pill I just took to start working. It’ll hurt a lot less then.”

“You sure?”

“You didn’t have to try that hard to convince me, remember?”

Street shrugged as he walked back to the living room table with plates and forks. “I just don’t want you to push yourself too hard either, especially not since I came up with a reckless idea.”

“Going to a bar can’t be considered reckless. Not unless you plan on getting into trouble.” Luca chuckled, “Besides, you said we were going to Ercoles, I can sit in a booth and sip coffee or soda and just rest.”

Street nodded.

 SWATSWATSWAT

 “I think I’m good to go now…” Luca winked over at Street a bit after they had finished their dinner, “I should probably change into some off-duty clothes.”

Street nodded, “Yeah, I should too…”

Luca smirked as he started to lift his leg off the pillows it had rested on, this time without a grimace to go along with the task. “You think boardshorts are okay? It’s either that or sweatpants. I had to get a bigger pair of uniform pants just for them to fit over this damn cast.”

“Don’t you have that pair of baggy cargo pants?”

“Yeah, but those are visibly dirty…” Luca shrugged.

“It might be a bit cold in just shorts…”

“We’re going to be indoors, and I’m not exactly one to freeze easily…”

“True.” Street nodded, “Go for the shorts. Should I bring a pillow you can have under your leg?”

“That would be great…” Luca nodded as he reached for his crutches.

 SWATSWATSWAT

 He had been more than a little skeptical about going out. His lower leg and knee was still causing him all sorts of pain. But it had been so long since he had actually hung out with the team.  

He was stuck with Street on the regular, but the other guys and Chris he really missed. And to be completely honest, being at home with Street wasn’t the same as hitting up a bar with him.

He sat on one side of the booth with his bad leg up on the bench. He was enjoying a cup of strong coffee and all his good friends were there.

Street had found a barstool and placed himself in front of his leg like a human shield, to make sure no drunk person would accidentally bump into it. The risk of just that happening wasn’t that great at the moment though, the bar was far from crowded. Probably because it was a Tuesday, but for the team it was the ‘weekend’.

Chris sat beside Street on another barstool. Hondo and Tan filled up the other side of the booth and Deacon was over at the bar ordering another beer, a third barstool was waiting patiently for him.

 SWATSWATSWAT

 “So I’m barreling down Mansfield Avenue, running as fast as I freaking can…” Tan’s in the middle of an old ‘war-story’, “Then at one of the last cross streets before Melrose Avenue, a freaking Prius comes out straight in front of me. Too late for me to stop, too late for me to try to jump the hood, or… You know, just jump the entire car…”

The team chuckled a little.

“So, at full speed I run into this Prius. My partner was like 10-20 yards behind me, and he claimed it hurt all the way back there.”  Tan chuckled, “Now it didn’t hurt that bad, but I did forget about the chase we were in the middle of. The Prius needed a new side window and to get it’s side door straightened. And I took about forty stitches in total after that run-in.”

“I hope you did some sort of ‘you-should-see-the-other-guy’ thing when you returned to the station.” Chris chuckled, “Poor Prius…”

Luca chuckled.

“Oh, I’ve got a nice one…” Hondo grinned, “Way back in the day, long before I made SWAT…”

The team turned their attention to him.

“I was probably in my early 20’s… I was teamed up with a guy who did not like my guts.” Hondo chuckled, “You know the kind… Anyway, we were going to enter this building. There had been a ‘call’ about domestic violence.”

Luca looked up, “Is it…?”

“You and Deke know the story…” Hondo nodded, “I was the first to enter. The only one to enter.”

Deacon grimaced, knowing what was to come.

“You see, this guy who hated me mostly because I tanned easier than him had managed trick some of his street friends into doing a fake call.” Hondo sighed, “He slammed the door shut behind me, and five gangsters attacked me.”

The whole team grimaced by then.

“I managed to shoot one of them in the shoulder, and that’s how it ended. They figured it was best to bail by then. But I looked like I had been in the ring with Muhammed Ali. One of my eyes were swollen shut, I had a split lip that needed twelve stitches. Lots of other small nicks and a ton of bruises. I could barely stand straight for two weeks. I don’t remember how many ribs I cracked, but it was more than a few. Let’s just say that I refused to have that guy as a partner for another shift.”

“Did he get fired?” Street asked.

“Not straight away…” Luca shook his head.

“No, not straight away…” Hondo nodded, “The bastard had friends both in high and low places. He did get caught eventually though.”

“Man, I wish I could’ve kicked his ass myself…” Luca sighed.

Deacon nodded.

“Well, ancient history…” Hondo shrugged, “Now, I know you’ve also got an ancient history story for us Luca… Come with it!”

“Oh, you mean the one where I fell off a truck?” Luca chuckled, one hand absentmindedly rubbing against his cast.

Hondo nodded.

“Alright.” Luca nodded and shifted a little in his seat, “Now, this was also LONG before SWAT…I had worked a couple of years, maybe. But I was still a bit… A bit of a hothead and quick to action.”

He paused and took a sip of his coffee.

“So, me and my partner had found this truck that had been associated with some kidnappers. We checked it. None of the suspects in sight. My partner called it in, I stuck around. These guys were known for beating their hostages to pulp basically, and two of them had ended up dead. I heard them approaching while Tim was calling it in by our car, which was parked on the other side of the store. We were actually going to get some grub…”

“What did you do?” Chris asked.

“I realized that I could not be seen. I was in uniform and I didn’t know what would happen if they saw me. I didn’t know if they had guns, I didn’t know if they would open fire in the middle of the street. I didn’t know a lot of stuff.”

“So…?” Tan asked.

“He climbed up on top of the rig…” Deacon chuckled.

Luca nodded. “I did. It was the only route that guaranteed that I wouldn’t be spotted.”

Hondo chuckled.

“Now, it was all fun and games until they started up the truck, and I found myself on the top of a moving Peterbilt. Now, Tim had seen the truck roll out, and decided to follow it. Even though he couldn’t find me. And as a note to you younger guys this was before we wore our radios. So… He couldn’t just call me up either.” Luca grinned, “He pulled out on the street, followed the truck at some distance. No lights, no sirens. But… I guess the guys saw him and realized they were in trouble.”

“Uhuh…” Street nodded, “Then what?”

“They stepped on the gas.” Luca chuckled, “And I hung on for dear life.”

Hondo grinned wide, he had heard the old story about a billion times before. Because he often asked Luca to tell that story if they were alone, mostly because of the ending. But he knew the younger crowd probably hadn’t heard it before.

“So, yeah… Tim had called for backup. So this other squad car comes roaring up the street, opposite direction. Which led to some impressive driving from the kidnappers, I’ve got to credit that to them. Which again made it a whole lot more difficult to stay on top of that rig. At one point a chopper came on top of us… And the truck sped up even more.”

Deacon nodded, he had heard the story a few times before, but not as many times as Hondo.

“Anyway. Soon enough the kidnappers messed up and they took the wrong  turn and ended up in a place where the road was under construction..” Luca chuckled a bit, “I give you one chance to guess what happened when the driver hit his breaks…”

“Ouch, you fell off?” Chris frowned.

“Bingo!” Luca chuckled, “Broke my wrist going down there. Anyway, kidnappers are on their way out of their truck, and yup… They had guns, because they started shooting towards the now three squad cars behind them.”

Hondo nodded, a smirk growing on his face.

“Now, my right hand was pretty much useless. I couldn’t even get my gun out of the holster with that hand.” Luca said, studying his own thick wrist, “I didn’t get my gun out before the kidnappers decided to retreat to the front of the truck, you know… Right where my broken wrist and I was.”

Deacon chuckled a bit.

“Somehow I manage to choke out the first guy. The smaller guy, of course…” Luca chortled, “So you can say I’m kinda outta luck at that point. Now, this hothead officer from one of the other squads came over.”

Both Deacon and Hondo laughed. Hard.

“What? What’s so funny?” Tan looked between the three oldest members.

“Well, the second hothead was him…” Deacon chuckled as he jerked his thumb in Hondo’s direction.

“Yep…” Luca nodded, “He took care of the two other kidnappers. And right about then a small squad of four rappelled down from the chopper which had been hovering above us for I don’t know how long…”

“Now THIS, THIS is the best part!” Hondo shot in, forcing the others to pay attention.

“Turns out it was SWAT.” Luca blushed at the thought, “Grandpa’s team… Grandpa and my dad were two of the guys who rappelled down.”

“NO?” Street’s jaw was hanging about an inch further down than usual.

“Yeah.” Luca shook his head, “I got the sternest talking to in my adult life right then and there…”

“He means they were just about to smack him around…” Hondo chuckled.

“I think they would’ve…” Luca shrugged, “If I hadn’t been grimacing and holding my wrist already… I was probably too pathetic looking to slap. I had gone one step beyond getting my ass kicked.”

“You’re kidding?” Tan chuckled.

Luca shook his head, “You’ve got to remember that people didn’t care that much back in the day if you spanked your kids. Or straight up beat the shit out of them in some cases. Now, as every other kid growing up in the 70s, I had been smacked a couple of times. So… I knew the look in both my dad and grandpa. They were almost vibrating as they gave me a firm shouting to about how ‘god-damned’ stupid I had been.”

“I didn’t know you back then, but I was certain those two SWAT officers were going to knock you out at any second…” Hondo shook his head at the memory, “Oh, and you were like 60% road rash…”

Luca nodded.

“That’s it…” Chris threw her hands up in the air, “I don’t have anything to top that!”

Deacon grinned, “Let’s hear yours anyway.”

“I got made on an undercover gig.” she shrugged, “Got roughed up a bit.”

“Care to elaborate?” Street tilted his head.

“Nope.” She shook her head, “Now Deke, what’s yours?”

“Broke my pelvis once.” He shrugged, causing the entire rest of the team either shudder or frown at the thought.

“I’m going to regret this, but how?” Tan asked looking at the grey haired man.

“Tossed from a window and onto a concrete wall a floor or two lower.” Deacon took another sip of his beer, “It was very uncomplicated. Basically the best kind of break you can have in your pelvis. Hurt like crazy though.”

Tan frowned.

Deacon nodded, then he looked over at Street. “You’re up…”

Street looked over at Luca, “Well… If you feel like stopping me, just do so…”

Luca scrounged up his nose “Why?”

“I got my leg trapped under my motorcycle once.”

“This is a work story, right?” Tan asked.

Street nodded, “Yes. I rode a police motorcycle for a while.”

“One of them big, boxy, ones?” Luca frowned.

“Big, not exactly boxy anymore…” Street nodded.

“How?”

“A bit outside of the city limits. Gravel road. A tractor came backing towards me around a bend. I hit the wrong break…”

“So you hit your front break and…”Luca let his hand mimic the motorcycle sliding out from under the driver.

Street nodded, “Came to a stop less than three yards from the rear of the tractor. My leg under the tank of the bike.”

“Alright, I don’t need any more details on that one…” Luca frowned.

Street nodded.

“Or… Did you end up with a cast, and for how long?” Luca followed up.”

“Yes, and seven weeks.”

Luca nodded, a small shudder running up his spine.

Hondo stretched before he stood up, “I’m getting another drink. Luca, do you want something?”

Luca checked his coffee cup, it was almost empty. He then pulled out a few bills and handed it to Hondo, “A coke or something…”

Hondo nodded.

 SWATSWATSWAT

 They had been there almost five hours when Luca poked Street in the leg with his good foot.

Street looked up immediately.

“Kid, tonight was real fun.” Luca beamed, then he flashed an apologetic smile, “But I should get back home now. It’s been a long day…”

Street nodded, “Do you need help up?”

Luca shook his head, “Don’t think so…”

He was right, he didn’t need help getting up.

“I might need help getting my crutches off of the floor though…” he added with a cheesy smile.

“No problem.” Tan winked and bent down to fetch Luca’s crutches, he then handed them to Street who in turn handed them to Luca.

 SWATSWATSWAT

 “You look like you’re in pain again…” Street mentioned as they walked from the car to the front door.

“Not more than usual…” Luca paused to shrug, “I’m a little stiff from sitting too long though…”

“You sure?”

“Yeah.” Luca flashed on of his trademark full-blown smiles, “I’m sure. Stop worrying so much…”

Street rolled his eyes, “Considering how much your leg has gone through the last few months, I’m allowed to worry about you.”

Luca smirked a bit.

Street hurried up front to unlock and open the door for him, receiving a short nod and a short ‘thanks’ from Luca.

“Do you need anything?”

“Just to lay down and have my legs up…” Luca shrugged, “But Duke probably wants a walk��”

Street nodded and it didn’t take long before Duke met them by the door. Luckily for Luca the dog never jumped up on people he knew, a part of it’s career training.

“Guess you’re right about that…” Street bent down to pat Duke, and put the leash on him, “You’re sure you’re good here?”

“Yeah. All good.”

“Alright.” Street nodded and left for his and Duke’s walk.

Luca let out a heavy sigh once the door was closed. The truth was that he was drained in every way possible, his leg was throbbing violently and all he wanted was a good night’s worth of sleep. Something he couldn’t remember when he had the last time.

He hobbled over and took the pill bottle on the living room table, stuffing it into one of his pockets. Then he did a quick detour to the bathroom to take care of that business before he could turn in for the night.

[mahou-queen]

♡52 Weeks of Lolita Questionnaire♡

In a recent Lovely Lor video, Lor answered questions from Loliprompts’ questionnaire “52 weeks of lolita”. It seems like a fun list of questions and I thought I would answer them too~ ♡

1. What is your favorite brand, and why? What’s its history? ♡  I guess my favorite brand would have to be Angelic Pretty. I love a lot of other brands, but the majority of dresses in my wish list right now are Angelic Pretty. As for their history? I don’t really know haha, I guess I should research that a bit.

2. How would you describe lolita fashion to a curious person you met in passing? ♡ I always just say I am apart of a fashion club? People don’t generally require more than that but if they did I would probably tell them that it’s an alternative fashion based on Victorian fashion and we have a fashion club and we get dressed up and meet for tea and stuff.

3. What style do you think is the most underrated, and why? ♡ qi and wa lolita. I almost never see them, or see interest in them which is a shame because there are some really beautiful dresses out there that are suited for these styles.

4. What does the phrase “lolita lifestyle” mean to you, and do you, or would you like to, adhere to it? ♡ lolita lifestyle is when you try to bring lolita or lolita-esque aesthetics into every aspect of your life. Maybe wearing lolita every or most days, and having a very “loliable” home/room. I could never be a lifestyler because I have other fashion interests. Also lolita is not appropriate at my workplace.

5. What do you think constitutes lolita etiquette or good manners? ♡ I don’t believe there is any “lolita etiquette” I think you should just be yourself. Good manner are good manners, don’t be rude to your comm members, don’t dance on the tables at a tea party. But that’s just commonsense I don’t think there is a way to behave that is lolita.

6. Does your style change with the seasons, or do you dress the same and try to bear the cold/heat? ♡ I try, but admittedly I am awful at it. I try to keep berets in the cooler months, as well as long sleeves. BUT I’m a sucker for ankle socks and I wear them all year despite the cold and I do freeze my legs off at winter meets. 

7. Do you have a fashion role-model? What do you admire most about them? ♡ I actually have several! I will list them and their instagrams here: sleepyriri  - Her coords are so dreamy looking, very light floaty aesthetic which I love. She also has her own lolita brand! Le_verger_sucre - Her coords are so pink and princess-y. I find myself sharing her photos a lot. Fannyrosie - the classic lolita queen. Need I say more? Tokimeki.bunny - I love the cuteness of her coords. They always have a lot of extra elements and are so well balanced. She’s also really good at coordinating printed tights which I am awful at. Tsumikko - Lavender QUEEN! I love her use of aprons, layering, and color balancing. Very light, floaty vibes.  Milkcircus - Print QUEEN. Her use of prints and patterns absolutely inspires me. Coords are always very multi-dimensional  Cursed.Kaiser - They’re coords are honestly so cool, there’s a kind of drama in them that I really like. Darkxdelirium - She almost made me want honey cake with her impeccable coording skills. 

8. What are the top 10 things you love most about lolita? Can you also compile a list of things you hate? ♡ I don’t think I can come up with 10 but I’ll do my best. ♡ Loves: The community aspect, the ability to reclaim my femininity through lolita, the creativity that goes into building coords, crafting to make one of a kind pieces, being able to feel beautiful without being “sexy”, having a hobby to focus on when I need something to escape to.

♡ Hates: Second-hand market price fluctuation, brands still releasing dresses with a max 96cm bust, buying petticoats, storing my stuff (especially purses), brands who charge astronomical prices for low quality materials (AP purses, Q-pot jewelry, etc).

9. How strict are you in applying the rules to yourself? To others? ♡  I am pretty strict on myself. For a long time I was terrified to be seen as ita. I was even afraid to wear bodyline for fear of being ”ita” even though my coord was good. These days I am less strict on myself and worry much less about these things, but I still struggle to get out of the strict mindset from time to time. others? I love experimentation even if I am afraid to do so so I am really not too strict on others, if it works, it works, and I am not going to criticize anyone. 

10. What’s the weirdest thing you’ve ever incorporated into a coord, or the weirdest material you’ve ever worn? ♡ The weirdest thing I think I have ever worn in a coord were a pair of korilakkuma bell earrings. As you can imagine, bells on your ears? not great.

11. What’s the story behind your discovery of lolita fashion? ♡ When I was a senior in high school, a new girl started attending my school. She wore fairy kei and sweet lolita to school. We became friends through art class and eventually she ended up teaching me about the fashion. She sold me my first dress, and later my first brand piece. I am really glad to have met her and to have been exposed to lolita. You can follow her on instagram here

12. What is the one item that you’ve owned the longest? ♡ I still own my very first dress I got in 2012. Bodyline Squirrel Party. However, I am planning to sell it since I’ve worn it in everyway I can think of.

13. Do you think lolita is only about clothes, or does it also encompass a certain attitude or mindset? ♡ Lolita is about the fashion. All kinds of people are lolitas and they like it or wear it for different reasons. 

14. Have you ever decorated a room or other space (car?) with lolita aesthetics in mind? ♡ My old bedroom used to be very “kawaii”. I love pink so my car stuff, my desk, as much as I can get away with, is pink. 

15. Is it possible to be too obsessed with lolita? ♡ If lolita is interfering with your ability to pay your bills, or to be happy, or to focus on school or work or family then you should probably pull back. Some people do get very absorbed by things and in those cases it can become too much.

16. What are you favorite and least favorite trends? Do you think it’s important to follow them, or to do as you like regardless of them? ♡ My favorite trend ever is the chiffon half blouse. So comfortable, affordable, light, cute, and much more size inclusive. Least favorite trend? mis-matched shoes from the 2010 era. I like my shoes to get equal wear. I think these days more than ever, you can really just do whatever you want. Wear the fashion is right now is like anything goes which I think is great,

17. How do you define “lolita cosplay” and how do you feel about it? ♡ Lolita cosplay is stupid. sorry

18. Are there other fashions that you wear regularly, or are you an everyday lolita? ♡ I don't wear other street fashions anymore. I used to wear fairy kei and himekaji but these days I just dress regular outside of lolita.

19. Do you look for bargains to save as much money as possible, or are you willing to make sacrifices for high-quality products? ♡ I try to find the best prices when applicable but if I am in love with something I’ll do what I have to do.

20. When was the last time you wore lolita, and what did you do that day? If you wear it daily, when was the last time you went OTT or extra-fancy? ♡ The last time I wore lolita was in April lmao. For a virtual meet-up with my comm.

21. If you were to combine lolita fashion with an unrelated style or theme, what would your new creation be? ♡uhhhh I honestly have no idea at all. 

22. What is your favorite accessory, and why is it your favorite? ♡ I have 2, 2-way bow clips from back when bodyline had a massive “sundries” section. They're no longer available and haven't been for a long time. I am really glad I got them, I wish I had bought more sundries when that section was still there.

23. What’s your favorite online lolita community or forum? Are there any that you avoid?  ♡ I don’t have a favorite tbh. I have never been on 4chan and I never will be.

24. What is your favorite theme (e.g. school loli, pirate loli, nurse loli) or motif (e.g. deer, music notes, stars/constellations)? ♡ black and gold stars! Valentines day! fruits! gingham!

25. Is there any music that you associate with lolita? ♡ orange caramel lol

26. Will you ever be too old for lolita? ♡  never

27. Do you enjoy sewing? Why or why not? ♡ I don’t know how to sew :(

28. How does your location affect your involvement in the local lolita community? Would you like to move elsewhere to be closer, or perhaps farther away? ♡ I drive about 1.5 hours for meetups because that’s the closest active comm. I do not mind so much. I’d like to maybe be closer.

29. Does your sleepwear resemble lolita at all? ♡  not at all. I sleep in oversized t-shirts

30. Can you admit to any unpopular opinions regarding lolita? ♡ I hate peeking bloomers. I’m sorry :(

31. How do you feel about Visual kei or Jrock, and do you feel it’s related to lolita, or not? ♡ Love it, and absolutely. Visual Kei is like lolitas relative. 

32. Whether or not you wear them (looking at you, Ouji), do you prefer the look of skirts, JSKs, and OPs with or without prints? ♡ I like both, but these days I am appreciating non-printed items more.

33. How has your style evolved over time? ♡ It hasn't really, just gotten more refined. 

34. If applicable, what other communities do you belong to? What other identities do you adopt? ♡ I’m queer, so the LGBTQ community is important to me.

35. What are your favorite shoes to wear with your style, or what’s your dream pair? ♡ I love heels. I do not like flat shoes because I like to elongate my legs. I don’t have a dream pair.

36. Would you, or have you ever, dressed your pets in lolita? ♡ lol I’d try but I don't think it would work.

37. How do you feel about people who wear lolita for Halloween? Does it depend on whether that person is already a lolita? ♡ Wearing lolita for Halloween as a lolita is fine, but wearing it as a costume is kind of meh.

38. Excluding fashion shows, what’s the most amount of outfits you’ve ever worn in a day? ♡ just 1 haha

39. What’s your worst lolita horror story? ♡  I don’t really have any. I one time went with some of my college friends to a con and I left my dorm building in full sweet early in the morning. I was afraid my dormmates would see me cause I did not want to explain but luckily no one was awake and I made it to the van unscathed. 

40. Do you like sweets? If so, what’s your favorite dessert? ♡ I love angel food cake 

41. Do you have any beauty products, health routines, or special diet to keep you at your best? ♡ I take co-q-10 for my eczema, I like laneige lip sleeping mask, especially in the winter.

42. What were the best and worst meetups you’ve hosted? If you haven’t hosted, would you like to someday? ♡ I wanted to host a garden meet this summer but covid ruined that. Maybe next year.

43. Who is your favorite artist? If not famous for lolita art, do you think they have lolita appeal? ♡ I love a lot of artists, some of them I think are lolita-adjacent because their style is kawaii. I’ll list some here: jisaaaa!  ubokhee MISOART_ meowwniz gojio_ hanavbara Fancy Surprise Arcade Healer Yurie Sekiya and many many more. Go stalk my following on instagram for lots of kawaii artists.

44. How do you feel about wigs? Do you wear any, or style your natural hair? ♡ I used to wear wigs, but my hair is too long now so I use my natural hair with fake bangs.

45. What’s your favorite animal motif? ♡ bears?

46. Have you ever visited a brand’s shop/boutique? If so, what was your reaction? If not, what shop would you most like to visit? ♡ I want to visit AP San Francisco 

47. Do you think posting photos of your coord online is a crucial part of belonging to the community? ♡ YES, it’s how we all stay connected and inspired 

48. How has the lolita community changed since you became a part of it? Where do you see lolita heading in the future in terms of community and networking? ♡ I think it’s become way more accepting and accessible. When I got into lolita there were virtually no legit resellers, the community was entirely on livejournal, buying second hand was a nightmare. Buying anything! was a nightmare. There was so much stress around looking “ita”, and the superiority of brand. These days its just not like that. So much amazing taobao brands have really helped even the field for lolita. We have so much more access to the clothes, the community, everything. It’s great. I only see it getting better as years go on.

49. What advice would you give someone who is nervous about starting lolita? Or do you think they should learn their own lessons? ♡ I think too many lolitas today rely on seasoned lolitas to tell them everything. I would say, go watch lovely lor, read @lolita-tips and look at other peoples coordinates. Lolita Tips tumblr taught me basically everything I know back in the day and it a wealth of info and concrit. Part of what makes the lolita journey so great is the research, the learning, the mistakes. You don’t wanna be like someone else, you wanna be you. So you really need to do the work yourself so you can put your personal flair into the fashion. That’s when it’s at its best. 

50. What’s your dream dress/garment? Is it a faraway goal or have you obtained it? ♡ My dream dress was AP sweetie violet jsk in lavender. Which I got in 2019. My new dream dress is AP rose tea garden jsk in navy. It’ll probably be a while before I can afford to buy one.

51. How do you feel about the stereotype that lolitas are full of drama? What’s the worst drama you’ve ever witnessed or been involved in? ♡ I think any and all groups of people are bound to have drama. I don’t believe that’s specific to lolita at all. I personally have not been involved in any lolita drama.

52. Are you loyal to any particular makeup brands? ♡ I am very particular about my makeup because I do not like to use certain ingredients. I really like Pacifica. But I also like some Korean brands like The Saem, MISSHA, and TonyMoly.

This was super long but I had fun answering all the questions. Have you done this questionnaire? I’d love to see your answers~

[buckyland]

50 questions!

tagged by @dirtychocolatechai !!! thank you lottie <3

1. What is the colour of your hairbrush? black and purple

2. Name a food you never ever eat. olives.

3. Are you typically too warm or too cold? too cold!

4. What were you doing 45 minutes ago? flossing my teeth. LOL

5. What is your favourite candy bar? twix!!!

6. Have you ever been to a professional sports game? huh, i don’t think so actually.

7. What is the last thing you said out loud? “atlas, what are you doing?”

8. What is your favourite ice cream? cookies & cream or chocolate chip cookie dough.

9. What was the last thing you had to drink? uh, water! hydration is KEY.

10. Do you like your wallet? yes! it was a christmas gift this year.

11. What was the last thing you ate? homemade tarkha daal (s/o hannah for the tan france recipe!)

12. Did you buy any new clothes last weekend? definitely not. i can’t even remember the last time i went shopping for clothes.

13. The last sporting event you watched? does the glance outside my window to see my drunk neighbors playing a round of cornhole on their balcony count?

14. What is your favorite flavor of popcorn? butter or caramel.

15. Who is the last person you sent a text message to? my dad actually. he’s been regularly checking in on me to make sure i’m doing okay on my own.

16. Ever go camping? YES. i’m new to it but i love it. my goal is to go at least once a year.

17. Do you take vitamins? i try to! besides a multi-vitamin, i have a bottle of vit D because i was deficient at one point (lol ironic considering where i live, i know)

18. Do you go to church every Sunday? oh, gosh. no, i haven’t been a regular attendee for years now.

19. Do you have a tan? i mean i AM tan, but am i - on my standards - tan as in recently sunkissed? no.

20. Do you prefer Chinese food over pizza? huh, hard call for comfort food. pizza is easier & faster to order. (but if i wanted a full meal, i’d say chinese food)

21. Do you drink your soda with a straw? i really try not to. i won’t use one if i can help it.

22. What color socks do you usually wear? dark grey ones because white shows up dirty/old too fast HAHA other than that, i’ve been wearing the same red christmas fuzzy socks to bed for months now

23. Do you ever drive above the speed limit? unfortunately, yes. 65mph is definitely not the acceptable speed when driving in the fast lane.

24. What terrifies you? never going anywhere in life - literally & figuratively. my parents dying (more than my own lol). losing my cat.

25. Look to your left, what do you see? a book begging to be read, sitting on my pillow.

26. What chore do you hate most? taking out the trash.

27. What do you think of when you hear an Australian accent? the six months i lived in perth, wa. also how much i love australian accents.

28. What’s your favorite soda? not a fan of drinking soda, but if i do - root beer or regular coke.

29. Do you go in a fast food place or just hit the drive? i do both, it just depends on the situation

30. What is your favourite number? 4 or 9. definitely not 3.

31. Who’s the last person you talked to? my parents over facetime!

32. Favourite cut of beef? uh, something lean? i try not to eat a lot of red meat

33. Last song you listened to? here we go by lewis capaldi. i’m OBSESSED.

34. Last book you read? well, i’m reading The Holdout by Graham Moore currently!

35. Favourite day of the week? friday or saturday.

36. Can you say the alphabet backwards? uh, slowly, yes? i’ll think of my old nokia phone keypad to help me get through

37. How do you like your coffee? cold, if possible. a touch of sweet with the good bitterness of the coffee/espresso as base. so with a dash of cream & sugar/syrup.

38. Favourite pair of shoes? my black nike running shoes or my white adidas sneakers. both are really comfy!

39. The time you normally get up? uh, sometime between 8-11am.

40. What do you prefer, sunrise or sunsets? sunsets, baby!!

41. How many blankets on your bed? three. i’m telling you, i’m almost always cold!

42. Describe your kitchen plates. mixed and matched sets, mostly white with various colors trimmed on the edges (blue, green or black)

43. Describe your kitchen at the moment? just wiped down after cooking dinner tonight. cleared sink. recently filled drying rack, but not overstuffed. a bunch of fallen cat fur on top of the microwave that needs to be wiped down. emptied out the trash this afternoon. (it was a good cleaning day today)

44. Do you have a favourite alcoholic drink? something a bit sweet, if i can get one. otherwise, an IPA beer or cabernet sauvignon (red wine) have been my go-to’s!

45. Do you play cards? less so recently. but i used to play a whole lot with some friends in early college.

46. What colour is your car? white!

47. Can you change a tire? eh, nope. i’ve been thinking about how i should probably learn though.

48. Your favourite state? bliss, if not denial. if we’re talking about what we have here in america, then definitely california. washington is a close second. (i’d pick oregon, but i’ve never been there)

49. Favourite job you’ve had? i was an escape room host/game master, whatever the title is. LOL

50. How did you get your biggest scar? i used to have a long one (about 4-5 inches long) on the top of my thigh from a new razor while shaving in my freshman dorm bathrooms (it was cramped and not well-lit then my hand slipped smh bad combo), but it faded sometime in the last year.

if you have the time and want to play along (you are never obligated to!), you’re tagged! @borkingbarnes @fvckingavengers @wonderlandmind4 @buckyskorpion @moonstruckbucky @softtbucky @softbiker @suz-123​ @the-chocolate-moose @jalapenobarnes + anyone else!!!

[elizadunc]

Marry Me, Because I Want to Date You

There’s a moan and then an expected “Oh my gods, marry me, Bluebell.” 

They’re cookies, and she got them from the store. 

But still, he proposes.

As he’s been doing for the last 8 years. 

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It had started in college, they had been assigned as partners in a required chemistry class and had quickly gone from hating each other, to becoming begrudging allies in the face of Dr. Tarly’s archaic ideas of teaching, to being best friends, over the course of about 3 months. 

The proposals were harmless at first, it had started as a joke, or at least, she had assumed it was a joke.

They had been up late studying and she had gone on a coffee run. She’d learned his coffee order by this point and, though she preferred tea, it wasn’t like remembering a coffee order was difficult. 

But he’d taken a sip and looked at her as if she was the Maiden in the flesh.

And then he’d done it. He’d said it. 

“Marry me, Bluebell.” 

She’d snorted and rolled her eyes, doing her best to hide her response to his dumb nickname that always made her feel like the ice cream more than the flower that he claimed was the inspiration. 

She’d allow herself to take out the whole interaction and turn it over in her mind later when she wasn’t being faced with the full force of her best friend.

He’d smirked at her predictable reaction and they’d both gone back to studying as if nothing at all had happened. Well, Brienne supposed, nothing actually had happened. 

It was only later that night in her dorm room that she’d sat on her bed and screamed a bit into her pillow about the fact that she’d actually heard the words “Marry me” directed at her. 

Not seriously of course. 

Brienne was well aware of what she looked like and what Jaime looked like. She was under no ridiculous notions that anything would ever happen between her and her best friend. So she had taken it as a joke and moved on. 

But then he’d done it again a few weeks later at the student union when she bought him a sandwich after he’d realized he left his wallet in his dorm room. 

And again when they were at the climbing wall in the student rec center and he’d forgotten his climbing shoes so she’d loaned him an extra pair that she had in her locker. They were purple. He looked hilarious. But still he said in that ridiculously serious voice, “Marry me, Bluebell”. 

Jaime had continued to “conveniently” forget his wallet, and so Brienne had continued to buy him coffee, or lunch, or any number of things that meant he would ask his dumb question. 

It continued like that for years. 

They'd graduated and moved to King’s Landing and started careers that kept them busy, day in and day out, and still he would propose. 

It had to have been the longest running joke in the history of forever. But Jaime liked it, and who was Brienne to deny him.

He’d shown up to her apartment once with a six pack and a movie and then asked her after she’d ordered the pizza, as if it were some big thing for her to pay 15 dragons for a large pizza with pepperoni and bell peppers. 

And again after she’d bought him yet another coffee and gotten his new, ridiculously complicated, order right the first time. An order that was much, much, more ridiculous than the simple black coffee with two creams and four sugars that had been his go to during college. That time he’d written the question on the napkin. He'd doodled a little flower next to his dumb nickname for her. A doodle that to her managed to look like a cross between a sad dog and a really weird looking dandelion. It had spikes.

She’d drawn mean looking eyes on it in response. Jaime had burst out laughing, and, after a moment, Brienne couldn’t help but join in. They’d laughed for what seemed like hours. They’d gotten stares. 

They had started to get settled into their jobs and their lives, they’d added some friends to the group and Brienne contented herself with a life full of friendship. Contented herself to a life without romance. 

Then she’d met Hyle Hunt. 

He was everything she’d expected to deserve in life. Almost nondescript looking, brown hair and brown eyes, and entirely forgettable. 

But he’d liked her. He’d brought her flowers and took her out to dinner and didn’t mention her height all that much. 

He had managed to be both sweet and a bit patronizing and while she wouldn’t have taken it from anyone else, she felt that if someone was actually showing an interest in her she should at least try to show an interest back. 

And it was fine. 

Jaime had hated him, but Jaime was a prickly person to people who weren’t in his immediate friend group. 

But they'd been fine. Hyle was fine.

He’d tried, toward the beginning, to call her Bluebell and she found that there was no way in any of the hells that she would ever allow anyone but Jaime to call her that dumb nickname. 

Hyle had been offended at first, but then had taken to calling her all sorts of different names that hinged on the word blue. 

She really hadn’t wanted to hurt his feelings, and she’d already felt like she was pushing it with not allowing him to call her Bluebell. So she allowed it. 

Hyle was always doing that, finding ways to inch into her life in all of the spaces where Jaime normally fit. And it wasn’t always a seamless transition. 

She and Jaime loved watching documentaries about the age of heroes. Hyle found them mind-numbingly boring and never failed to let her know during the few times she picked one for their now weekly movie nights. 

Jaime loved trying new and weird dishes from different parts of the world and would regularly order from the most obscure hole in the wall restaurant he could find. Hyle hated anything that wasn’t from Westeros and refused to eat something that had more than one pepper of spice in it. 

Jaime and Brienne worked out on a regular basis and were matched fairly evenly, Hyle had gone once or twice to the gym and ended up complaining both times that they didn’t include him in their workout. Mostly because if they’d tried he would have collapsed into a heap on the ground.

He’d claimed that he was trying to be a good boyfriend. That generally boy/girl best friends weren’t as close as Jaime and Brienne were and Jaime was obviously trying to steal Brienne away. 

Brienne usually rolled her eyes at that and did her best to reassure Hyle that if Jaime was interested in her he would have said something some time in the last 8 years. 

But then Hyle found out about the proposals.. 

He’d been at her apartment for dinner and had found one of the millions of times that Jaime had proposed by writing it on a random piece of scratch paper on her desk. 

That particular time had been after he’d had a particularly trying work-day and she’d bought him Pentoshi take out even though it wasn’t her favorite. 

They’d been lying on the couch watching a dumb movie and he’d hopped up suddenly and run over to her desk to grab the first piece of paper he could find. Then he’d dropped it in her lap and settled back down to watch the rest of the movie. 

It was dumb, a random moment among millions of other random moments that all surrounded the ridiculousness that was her best friend’s insistence on proposing at every chance he could. 

But Hyle had been upset. 

Well, upset was putting it mildly. 

He’d stormed over to where she was just starting to brown the meat for the tacos they were having and thrust the random piece of scratch paper under her nose as if presenting the final piece of damning evidence in a courtroom. 

“Did you know about this?” his voice was not calm. 

“Of course I knew about it, it’s a joke. Jaime does it all the…” Brienne trailed off, realizing too late that this was probably one of those times where lies of omission were permissible. 

But the damage was done. 

“He does this all the time?” Hyle’s face was turning red. It wasn’t pretty. 

“Yes, but he doesn’t mean anything by it! He’s done it since we were in college!” 

“Right, well that’s going to stop right now. I will not have another man proposing to my girlfriend.” 

“I’m sorry?” she said this incredulously but Hyle, in his fashion, misinterpreted it. 

“You should be! This isn’t right! I’ve been trying to lessen his hold on you for months now, but if this is how it is then maybe you should stop hanging out with him altogether.” 

“No, sorry, no. I’m not going to stop hanging out with my best friend because for some reason you’re jealous of him. Jaime doesn’t see me like that.” The meat was going to burn if she didn’t stop stirring it, but this seemed like it was probably an important conversation that deserved her full attention. She turned the burner off. 

“Well it’s him or me, Brienne. I won’t date someone who gets a regular marriage proposal from her best friend.”

It was then that Jaime proved to either have the best or the worst timing imaginable. A key turned in the lock and Jaime entered already talking. 

“Hey Bluebell, I forgot to bring back your copy of ‘The Life and Times of Knights in the Age of Heroes’, oh hey Hyle.” He was holding the book in his left hand and two bags of Mereeneese take out in the crook of his right elbow. 

Hyle turned to Brienne, “He even has a key. Choose.” his face was a lovely shade of puce at this point, and he was glaring at Jaime and Brienne alternately. 

“Him, of course I choose him. I’m sorry, Hyle.” 

Hyle had immediately stormed out leaving Jaime looking bewildered and Brienne feeling, well, rather relieved actually. 

Jaime had wanted to know the details but after that all she really wanted to do was watch a documentary and eat food that wasn’t from the three places Hyle deemed ‘acceptable’. 

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Yes, Jaime. Alright, I’ll marry you.” 

It’s been two weeks since Hyle walked out and Brienne is done with saying no or rolling her eyes. She wants to see what will happen if she says yes. 

Jaime looks at her for a second, blinks twice, and then shoots to his feet and cups her cheek. 

“You’re not just saying that. You never say yes.” 

“Jaime my boyfriend gave me an ultimatum and I chose you, no I’m not just saying that, but are you actually asking? Were you serious all this time?” He rubs her nose with his and then nods. 

“Of course I was serious. I wouldn’t just ask. You laughed it off, and I understood, we were young, and for all that I had my dad’s money I hadn’t exactly bought a ring. But you kept saying no. So I figured I’d keep asking. And maybe one day you’d say yes. Because Bluebell I’ve been in love with you since chemistry.” 

It’s like all of Brienne’s hopes and dreams are coming true all at once and she doesn’t know how to feel. 

Jaime shuffles his feet, “any time you want to say something would be alright with me, Bluebell.” 

“I love you too, of course I love you too. I’ve been in love with you for years. I don’t remember not being in love with you. But I thought you were joking.” she gives in to the temptation to run her fingers through his hair and he leans into her hand.

“I know you did, but you were always going on about how you didn’t need a relationship. But then, then Hyle happened and I was so angry with myself for not asking you out first.” 

“I didn’t think you’d ever actually want me.” 

“Of course I want you, you’re my Bluebell. How could I want anyone but you?” 

“Okay, enough. Sap.” Jaime laughed at that before brushing his nose against hers again. 

“I need to kiss you now. I’ve been waiting for this for 8 years.” It somehow manages to be the best kiss Brienne has ever been a part of. Sweet, and intense, and laced with more meaning than any of the kisses that she had ever shared with Hyle. 

“I love you, I love you, I love you. Did you actually mean it when you said yes?” 

“Jaime we’ve never even dated. We can’t rush into getting married. This is too important.” 

“A long engagement, then. Just, wait here for a second.” He rushes out of the apartment and returns not even 5 minutes later with a small black box, and for a second Brienne can’t breathe. 

“Okay, okay, I’m going to ask you for real this time.” 

*fade to black*

[honeypiehotchner]

Deception -- part two

Hello lovelies! Here’s another part xx. (Also, I promise she meets John in the next chapter!)

As Mycroft said, Sherlock is waiting for us on the plane at Hartsfield-Jackson International Airport. But not as Mycroft said, Sherlock has no idea I’m who Mycroft was picking up.

           It’s evident on his face that he wasn’t expecting me, which only leaves me fuming. Mycroft Holmes and his stupid web of lies to bend people to his will. Sometimes, it can be most annoying.

           Once we’re in the air, the arguing begins.

           “Why is she here?” Sherlock practically yells, then looks back at me. “No offence.”

           “None taken,” I shrug.

           “She’s here because I asked her to be,” Mycroft explains. “And because we have something to talk about.”

           “What now?” Sherlock groans. “I was supposed to be in Iraq yesterday.”

           “Yes, I know,” Mycroft sighs. “But this is about Dr. Watson.”

           “John? John’s fine.”

           “John is not fine, Sherlock, and you know it,” Mycroft snaps. “You want so desperately for me to keep him safe while you are gone—”

           “Because when I return, things are going to go back to normal. I’ll need my doctor.”

           “Yes, well, your doctor hasn’t left Baker Street in an entire week since your funeral and he has an appointment with a therapist tomorrow.”

           “So?” Sherlock shrugs. “He’s seen therapists before.”

           “Dr. Stewart is going to be John’s therapist,” Mycroft announces, or shall I say, throws me completely under the bus.

           “What? Why?”

           “Because Dr. Watson is not safe,” Mycroft hisses. “And if I am to keep a close watch on him while you are gone, I need a different way.”

           “So you brought an agent out of retirement to be— Oh.”

           “You’re getting slow, brother mine,” Mycroft smiles sweetly. “Yes, I brought Dr. Stewart here out of retirement to be John’s therapist and to keep a close eye on him.”

           “An undercover mission,” Sherlock shakes his head.

           “Twins,” I mutter quietly, trying and failing to add some humor into this awful situation.

           “Why didn’t you tell me this?”

           “Because I knew you’d object.”

           “And my opinion means nothing to you, is that it?”

           “Yes, that’s exactly it,” Mycroft replies coldly. “You wanted to disappear completely, well, that comes with consequences. Consequences that we cannot ignore if you want to eventually return to England.”

           I give Mycroft a strange look.

           “What?”

           “I hate that you have a point,” I breathe. “I hate to say it, Sherlock, but he’s right.”

           “So what if he’s right? It’s boring.”

           “And now you’re throwing a tantrum,” I roll my eyes. “Seriously, Sherlock, you went out into the world and made friends. A good friend. And you got him swept up in this mess, and you expect him to be fine when you die?”

           “Oh, please, I’m not actually dead.”

           “He doesn’t know that!” I cry. “When are you going to get it through your head that people care?”

           “When I can find data to back it up,” he counters.

           “Ladies and gentlemen, the endlessly ignorant, Sherlock Holmes.”

           “Oh, don’t start that again!”

           “I’m going to start that again,” I laugh. “You know why? Because you’re acting like an asshole, Sherlock. You want to disappear? Fine. Go. Disappear. But if you think for one second that your disappearance won’t affect anyone, you’re wrong. Do you want to know how it felt when Mycroft told me you’d died? Cold. Frozen. I didn’t know what to think. And I hadn’t spoken to you in a long time. Imagine how much more amplified that feeling must be for John.”

           “If I worried about how everyone feels, then I’d never get anything done.”

           “I’m not asking you to worry about everyone, Sherlock, I’m just asking you to care about your friends. Because that’s what you do when you make friends. You care about them.”

           I’ve had enough of his bullshit for the time being, so I excuse myself to the back of the jet to lie down and gain some of my senses back. We’ve got roughly eight hours on this plane together and if I don’t sleep for some of it, I think I’ll explode.

~~~

I wake sometime later to Sherlock knocking on the wall, letting me know he’s ventured back here. I lift my head and sit up, motioning for him to sit next to me.

           “You know, I almost didn’t agree to do this. Because I don’t like it.”

           “Like what?”

           “I don’t like lying to innocent people, Sherlock.”

           “An undercover agent with a guilty conscience,” he smirks. “Quite the pair.”

           “It is an unconventional life I lead,” I chuckle. I can tell this is troubling him, too, though, so I say. “Is there anything you want me to know about John? That, I don’t know, might help him.”

           “You want to help him?”

           “Of course I do,” I shrug. “So. Is there anything?”

           “He told when he was standing at my grave that I was the best man and the most human human being he knew.” Sherlock pauses. “So, I guess you should know that he is the man who brought that out of me.”

           “Okay,” I nod, smiling. “Thank you for sharing that.”

           “You can go back to sleep now,” Sherlock murmurs. “We’ve still got another six hours.”

           “Fun,” I chuckle. “But I’m a bit hungry, so I think I’ll order some food.”

           “Alright,” he nods, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he walks ahead of me back out into the main area of the plane.

~~~

“This is your ID,” Mycroft hands me the plastic card. “Your passport, your birth certificate, etcetera.”

           I nod as he hands me the rest of the documents to put into my briefcase. Everything has Dr. Jane Stewart on it. I haven’t decided yet if I would’ve preferred going by a completely different name, but I suppose there’s no time to change that now.

           “There’s a change of clothes in the rest room for you to change into and some makeup for you to use, if you see fit—”

           “Mycroft,” I cut him off with a laugh. “I know. I’ve been here before, remember?”

           “Yes, well, it has been a while. I just wanted to be sure you remembered everything.”

           “How could I forget,” I scoff, closing the briefcase. “I’ll be off to get changed.”

           “Your new phone and laptop should be here when you are finished.”

           “Alright,” I breathe, yanking the door to his rest room open. There on the counter sits my new change of clothes, completely different from the summer outfit I traveled here in.

           It’s a navy-blue dress which I despise – dresses, not the color – but if I’m going to be someone different then I am to wear something different, something I would never wear. It’s standard protocol, so I tug on the dress without another thought.

           The shoes – heels, rather, are quite nice, though I know my feet are going to protest soon. I slip my feet inside all the same, straightening the dress over my shoulders as I glance at myself in the mirror.

           I take my hair down, letting it flow over my shoulders. I suppose a haircut won’t be in order because I already wear it so many different ways. Still, I pin some of it back and leave some strands loose. I imagine this person, this Jane Stewart is professional even when she is not practicing. Always elegant and eloquent, even when she doesn’t need to be. She’s a strong woman, and therefore dresses that way and holds herself that way. I square my shoulders, tilting my chin up in the slightest. She’s sure of herself and sure of this world. She walks her own path and doesn’t think twice about the next step she takes.

           Oh, what fun it will be to pretend.

           I use some of the makeup provided, like the foundation to cover some trouble spots and the mascara to add something to my eyes without doing a lot. There’s no lipstick here, but I might buy some sometime soon. It’s been a while since I’ve worn it, and Jane seems like someone who would.

           I zip the makeup bag up and grab my old clothes, walking back into Mycroft’s office with a smile. I hand the old clothes off to someone to burn – or at least, that’s what I’m assuming they’ll do with them. That’s normally what happens, but who knows.

           “Do you have a watch?” I blurt, setting the makeup bag down on a chair. “It just seems odd that there wasn’t one.”

           Mycroft nods to his desk. There, sitting on top of the documents in my briefcase is a watch. The straps are brown, but the face is a simple black and white design. It’s perfect to what I had in mind.

           “Thank you,” I take the watch and strap it on my left wrist without looking. I’m too focused on what Mycroft is looking at. “What is that?”

           “Terror cells that my brother is trying to infiltrate,” Mycroft replies easily. “If he doesn’t get himself killed, it’ll be a miracle.”

           I frown. “That doesn’t sound promising.”

           “It’s not,” Mycroft leans back in his chair. “But when Sherlock makes up his mind, the decision is final. Anyway,” he shoves the file away, sliding over a laptop. “This is yours to use. And here is your new phone. I have my number under a code name—”

           “What is it?”

           “What?”

           “Your code name.”

           He practically glares at me. “Mikey.”

           “Mikey!” I laugh. “Are you joking?” I pick up the phone and go to the contacts. “Oh, that’s golden.” It’s my nickname for him and has been for years. Only to annoy him, though, as I see it still does.

           “Yes, I knew you’d find it amusing,” he smiles tightly. “Now, I probably will not call you often. I’d prefer if our meetings are handed through email or in person – in person is most preferred, if you can bear it. If I do call you, it will most likely be in the event of an emergency.”

           “Gotcha.”

           “I don’t see there being an instance when someone other than yourself would have ahold of your phone, but in the event that they do, my name is ‘Mikey’ and not Mycroft.”

           “Do regular people really know your name?”

           “The right and wrong people do, yes. And John Watson knows it well,” he sighs. “Now a car is waiting outside to take you to your home. I can have a car delivered for you later today if you want to drive yourself around, if not, that’s fine as well.”

           “I think I’ll want a car,” I reply, thinking of how Jane is. “So, yes, send one. If you don’t mind.”

           “Not at all,” he leans over to make a note on some pad by his phone. “Here is a file on Dr. Watson. It’s all background information and some key pages from his blog, though I suppose if you wanted to read his blog, you could read it online.”

           “Thank you,” I pack away the laptop, phone, and file into my brief case, shutting it and flicking the locks. “Is that all?”

           “I believe so.”

“Well,” I smile. “It was nice meeting with you, Mr. Holmes.”

           I can already feel everything shifting. It’s the one thing I did not miss about going undercover.

           You have to become someone else. You have to adapt a completely different identity, personality, demeanor, everything. You can lose yourself doing this. And I almost did a couple of times.

           Maybe it isn’t such a bad thing now, having my middle and last name intact, as well as my profession. I do have a degree in psychology, just never used. Being an agent somehow swept me along before I could use my degree elsewhere in social services.

Well. I suppose there is a right time for everything. And I suppose the right time for me to be a therapist is now.

~~~

The house I am dropped off at is in the suburbs, which I expected. Therapists normally do sessions out of their homes, especially private therapy, which I’m assuming is John’s preferred method seeing as his last therapist did the same.

           He’s a private person. I’ve gathered that much from skimming his file on the ride here. He’s very reserved, even when he’s all in the papers because of Sherlock.

           The house is nice, though. Two bedrooms, two bathrooms. It has a large living area with two chairs set up by the big windows toward the back. I assume that’s where John and I will be sitting tomorrow for our session. The kitchen is sized fairly well. I’m not that great of a cook, though, so regardless that doesn’t do me much good. My bedroom is nice, larger than what I’m used to, with a bathroom connected. The guest room – which I don’t know why I have, other than the fact that this is all for show – is nice as well. A bit smaller, but not suffocating.

           It’s decorated nicely. Modern. Not my usual taste, but then again, I’m not the one living here. Dr. Jane Stewart is.

           I throw myself down on the couch, wanting nothing more than to go to sleep and wake up – as myself – back in America. Where I’m not a spy. Where I’m not Dr. Jane Stewart. Where I’m not Agent N. J. Stewart. Where I’m just Nicole. And that’s it.

[sanderssidesfanfiction]

We’ll Carry On - Chapter Forty Six

We’ll Carry On Tag

General Content Warnings: Sympathetic Deceit Sanders, Substance Abuse, Abandonment, Minor Character Death, Transphobia, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Dissociation, Bullying, Homophobia

March 18th, 2019

Dee looked at everyone in the room in the courthouse with confusion. They were smiling and laughing and chatting like they had done this a million times before. They hadn’t done it a million times, but they had done it three, so maybe they were just that familiar with each other.

Whatever the reason, he was uncomfortable being slightly dressed up and just standing around in court doing nothing. He clung to Remy’s leg like his life depended on it, and when they finally started talking about signing papers, Dee felt relief flood through him. Even if this meant he couldn’t go back to Mama, he wouldn’t be stuck in this courthouse forever.

And anyway, if Mama left him, didn’t that mean that this new family taking him in was a good thing?

March 18th, 2020

Dee was happy enough that he was jumping up and down and flapping his hands like mad. He was wearing his adult villain gloves, because he had outgrown his old ones but Dad got him these so that he didn’t have to go without villain gloves at all. These he just had to grow into.

They were at his favorite pizza place, the one that knew his particular preferences for pizza and didn’t give him or his family weird looks when they ordered a white pizza with extra cheese and sausage. It was the anniversary of his adoption, and while he had gotten a mini-party two weeks before with his family for his seventh birthday, Lucy wasn’t able to come and have dinner with them like he had hoped. But today, Dad and Ami had talked with Lucy’s moms, and they all had agreed that they would meet here, as a belated birthday celebration in addition to his adoption anniversary.

As soon as they walked through the door, Lucy exclaimed, “Dee!” and ran over to hug him.

He hugged back, tight, before taking off his gloves and shoving them in his coat pockets so he could sign. “I’m so glad you came!”

“Well, of course!” Lucy signed back. “I was super sad I couldn’t do it on your birthday, but this is almost as good!”

Dee grinned and flapped his hands before signing, “It’s better! Because this is the reason why I know you in the first place!”

Lucy frowned. “What do you mean?” she signed.

“Well, if I hadn’t been adopted by Dad and Ami, I wouldn’t be going to school with you!” Dee explained.

“Oh!” Lucy said out loud. “Yeah, I’m really glad you got to be adopted, then!”

Dee nodded. He was really glad too, and he didn’t want to think about where he would be if he weren’t with Dad and Ami. It definitely was not a pleasant thought. Would Mama have stopped taking pills? Would he have had to talk to way more police people? Would he have been taken away anyway, only this time he wouldn’t have been with Dad and Ami? He didn’t know, and that really scared him. Hence why he didn’t think about it often, if at all.

Lucy tapped his arm and Dee looked up at her from where he found himself staring at the floor. “You okay?” she signed.

Dee smiled softly. “Yeah. Just started thinking about not nice things.”

“Oh,” Lucy said, nodding her understanding. “Yeah, that’s no fun,” she agreed. “Do you want to find a table with my moms and your family?”

“Yeah,” Dee agreed, and the two immediately looked for a table that could house the ten of them.

When they found a likely candidate, everyone sat down and, because the customers were allowed to seat themselves, a waitress came right over with a bright smile. “Hello there! How can I help you tonight?”

“Hi, we’re going to be ordering...” Ami trailed off, before signing at Lucy’s moms. At their response he said, “We’ll be ordering three pizzas. Two large ones, regular sauce, pepperoni on one half and veggie lover’s on the other, the second one plain cheese on one half and green peppers and black olives on the other, and then a small, white sauce, extra cheese and sausage.”

The waitress laughed. “Oh, you must be the Picani’s! The manager talks about you a lot. Usually to say why you should never judge someone for their pizza order, because you come here often and tip well because no one else takes the order seriously.”

“That’s us,” Ami said cheerfully. “We’re here with a school friend of the youngest. He’s very excited about it.”

Dee noticed that one of Lucy’s moms was translating what Ami was saying for the other. When the waitress left, the conversation moved solely into the sign language territory. Mostly introductions, explaining who was who to one another. Lucy’s mom who was Deaf, who was wearing a denim jacket tonight, smiled and signed, “Your ASL is amazing for only knowing it one year.”

Logan signed back, “Well, Dad and I have had more practice than one year, but my teacher has said that my signing improved greatly since Dee joined the family. Full-immersion does wonders in learning a new language. And since Dee only would speak when he knew we wouldn’t know the sign and no one was around to translate, it really was like full-immersion.”

Lucy signed, “That’s really cool! I didn’t realize most of you didn’t know sign before! You’re naturals!”

“Not really,” Roman signed with a laugh. “My sign was terrible for the longest time. I constantly had to ask Dee to slow down, and I still do when he fingerspells. But I’ve been getting better.”

Ami lightly waved his hand and signed, “Before the food comes, we have a gift for Dee to celebrate his adoption.”

Dee was surprised, thought he didn’t know why. He had gotten presents on his birthday, both from the family and from Lucy. But he forgot that he might get a gift on his adoption.

Dad passed over a small bag to Dee and Dee took it gingerly. He sifted through the paper and found a pair of earbuds, which he played with for a few seconds before sifting through the paper more at Ami’s encouragement. He pulled out a small-ish rectangular device that sort of reminded him of a phone, except it had a circle where the keys would be, and the screen was small. “What is it?” he signed.

Ami and Dad both laughed, and Lucy’s moms were cracking a smile. “I never thought I would see the day,” Ami signed. “It’s called an iPod. It stores music and podcasts and stuff so you can play it whenever you like.”

Dee blinked a few times, before putting the earbuds into the iPod and then his own ears. “What do I do to start the music?” he asked.

“You see the symbols of the sideways triangle and the two little lines? Press that,” Dad signed.

Dee did so and his eyes widened as he recognized one of the songs that Logan liked to listen to, one of the few that he was allowed to play without headphones around Dee, and the one that was Dee’s absolute favorite of Logan’s songs. He took out one of the earbuds, surprised that he couldn’t hear the music in that ear anymore, before putting it back in. He grinned. “Cool!” he signed.

“Ami and I found that in the basement in one of the moving boxes, and we cleared out what little music was still on it before downloading songs we knew you liked,” Dad signed. “We figured it could help some in crowds. It’s not the same as noise-cancelling headphones, but it still will give you something to focus on.”

Dee grinned wide and signed “Thank you” over and over again. Then, “Can I keep them in while we eat?”

“Well, yeah, if you want,” Ami signed. “We’re all going to be signing anyway, so you won’t be missing out on any of the conversation.”

Dee flapped his hands excitedly and slid the iPod into his pocket. Lucy was grinning at him. “That looks like it was a really good gift!” she signed.

“It is!” Dee exclaimed. “And on my birthday Dad and Ami found a weighted blanket in my size! They know all of my sensory problems and they help with them, instead of telling me that I need to get over them, like some of the mean kids at school do!”

“That’s great!” Lucy signed. “I’m really happy for you!”

Dee nodded. “They also help Logan when he has similar problems.”

“What?” Logan signed. “I don’t have those sorts of problems, do I?”

“You don’t buy certain shirts or pants because they ‘feel wrong,’ you can’t stand certain music because ‘the lyrics don’t sound right,’ you can’t touch chalkboards with any part of exposed skin, nevermind fingernails, without squeezing your hands repeatedly until you can run your fingers under water or on something that ‘feels better,’” Dad supplied. “You do all of this without realizing it, but yeah, Logan, you have sensory issues.”

Logan looked momentarily stunned. “Oh,” he said, out loud. “I didn’t realize...” he started to sign, but his hands drifted down as his thought process trailed off. “I don’t know.”

The pizza came while Logan was still brooding over this fact, and the conversation moved to lighter topics. Lucy and Dee talked a lot about school when they weren’t eating their slices of pizza, Roman talked about how the school play was coming up in April and how he had most of his lines down but the blocking kept tripping him up, and Patton and Virgil talked a lot about the books they were reading. Virgil adored Animorphs and Patton was still enjoying The Magic Tree House whenever he could.

Eventually, Logan joined in on the conversation again, when Lucy’s moms asked Logan and Dad where they had learned to sign. They signed an hour-long conversation, and when all of the pizza was eaten and their drinks gone, Dee was starting to yawn as one of Virgil’s slow songs came on the iPod, acting like a lullaby. “We should probably head out,” Dad signed. “I think Dee’s a little too tired for dessert.”

“I’m not tired,” Dee protested, before yawning again.

“You’d fall asleep face-first into whatever dessert you had,” Roman signed with a grin.

Dee whined in protest but didn’t do anything else outside rub his eyes. He was tired, and it had to be getting close to eight, but that didn’t mean he wanted to go home and get ready for bed.

“We should be going, too,” Lucy’s other mom, the one who was wearing bright pink lipstick, signed. “Lucy will need to go to bed soon. It is a school night, after all.”

Lucy tilted her head back and groaned, before hugging Dee. When she pulled apart, she signed, “I had fun tonight.”

“Same,” Dee signed.

“Oh, and do you like the book Mom found for you? There aren’t a lot of kid’s books out there with characters who are mute, so I hope just finding one who was autistic is okay...”

Dee smiled. “I love it a lot, Lucy. It’s nice to read, especially when the bullies give me a hard time.”

“Good, I’m glad,” Lucy signed.

Everyone stood, and after Dad and Ami left two twenties on the table, they all walked outside and went their separate ways in the parking lot. Dee was a little sad, even though he knew that he would see Lucy tomorrow. He had sorta hoped that tonight would never end.

“Chin up, Dee,” Virgil said as they all got in the van. “You get to listen to your music a little while longer before you have to go to bed.”

“And you get to see your best friend tomorrow!” Patton chirped.

“Not to mention that just because tonight is over, doesn’t mean we’re not going to be here tomorrow,” Roman added.

“And while it might seem unfair to cut the night short, we really should get back home. If you want, we could read the book Lucy got you again before bed,” Logan offered.

Dee yawned again and nodded. That sounded really nice. Ami drove out of the parking lot and started the trip home, and as one song bled into the next in Dee’s ears, he leaned back and tried to let himself relax, just a little, just enough that maybe he could have an easier time sleeping tonight. After all, his family was here, and they would keep him safe and love him ‘til the end of time. He had been here a year and they hadn’t disappointed him yet.

Virgil gently grabbed Dee’s hand and gave it a squeeze. Dee looked over in confusion. “Just...you know that we’re not gonna leave you for anything, right?” Virgil asked. “The only thing that would make me not be able to talk to you anymore is if one of us died. And that’s not gonna happen for years and years.”

Dee nodded. “I know, Virgil. Thanks,” he signed.

“I love you,” Virgil murmured. “I want to make sure you know that, because I don’t say it often.”

“I know,” Dee signed again. “I love you too.”

After Virgil nodded and Dee started to relax again, he was asleep before they even hit the next red light.

[evilisk-played]

DQH2 Speedrun Commentary Part 02: Dunisia Part 1

(Covered in this part: completing the first trip to Accordia, upgrading Desdemona and Torneko, the Grand Dunes, the Oasis fight, upgrading Lazarel, Maribel and Ruff recruitment, Dunisia Skirmish 1)

Accordia:

Twin Swords Teresa? (00:10)

In my later runs, I started to switch Teresa over to the Twin Swords. But honestly? I'm not sure it's necessary at all. The whole "extra DPS" advantage is lost on your party members being dumb.

= = =

Torneko and Desdemona In A Speedrun?

I'll say it now, Torneko and Desdemona aren't getting much use in this speedrun.

Torneko gets a bit of use as he’s technically your first healer (just make sure you unlock his healing ability, since it’s not one of his defaults). In regular play he’s... okay. He’s not my favorite honestly. 

Desdemona is a perfectly fine character in regular play, but in a speedrun? She's not so good. Without a full unlocked arsenal, she's just not that powerful, and she has the "early joiner" disadvantage.

The early joiner disadvantage is that the earlier a character is unlocked, the less potent they are for speedrunning. There are number of reasons why earlier characters aren’t so good: characters that join later often join with a higher starting level, and for speedrunning (where you don’t get to grind at all) this is a significant advantage over the other characters. Late joiners also get up to date weapon when they appear (while you need to purchase equipment for early joiners, and this can be quite annoying).

The most important difference is related to the “proficiency” system in this game. Proficiency is basically a second skill tree that is only unlocked by: actively using a character; and talking to the Martial Artist in town. Contrary to what the game says, proficiency is not acquired purely through damage; it’s acquired through killing enemies, and enemies give a set amount of it (anyone whose played DQH2′ lousy postgame knows you hunt Roseguardins for fast proficiency).

It’s a really stupid system in regular play and in a speedrun it’s even worse, as a bunch of characters have key abilities walled behind proficiency like Terry. Desdemona has it really bad off in speedruns, which is a shame as she’s a beast with a fully unlocked moveset. (Maybe one day I’ll try a New Game+ speedrun...)

= = =

Upgrades:

Desdemona only gets used in two battles, and she doesn't get even close to using High Tension in either one, so I recommend upping her damage (so she does more damage, doi) and upping her MP (so she can whip out more Scrap Mettles)

Torneko actually sees a few more battles before being benched. Here I unlock Sage's Stone and up his MP. It should be obvious what this means tbh.

= = =

Getting Zap So here's something that didn't happen in the video but is something I totally missed; if you talk to the Martial Artist at this point, you can totally unlock Zap now. Zap is a very, very important skill to have. While you don't necessarily need it *now*, it's very, very important to pick up as soon as you've unlocked Maribel and Ruff. 

= = =

The Grand Dunes

Optional Golem Fight (01:52)

At this point, you can totally skip the Golem with the Twin Swords' C1 Dodge Loop. It's worth noting that this Golem encounter always appears here the first time (and it never appears when you return here).

= = =

Out In The Wild (02:19) Okay, so this bit is about a potential random event that occurs in the open world. I walk past it in the video, but these events involve random NPC's needing rescuing from mobs. Completing these gives a lot of EXP, though I have personally never done any of these events, because I like consistency and outisde of this section of the game (this event will always spawn either before or after the Golem), these things are 100% random.

= = =

Oasis Chest (03:40)

You can get a Mini Medal in that chest either before or after the fight with the Knight Errant. I actually use a few Mini Medals in my runs, but I'm not so sure I'd call this one a necessary one by any means.

= = = 

Oasis Fight (03:50) So this is basically a tutorial with the Monster Medal Mechanic. In this encounter, you fight against 2 Mummies, 2 Rocks, 2 Golems and a Knight Errant. The pairs of enemies will all drop a Monster Medal and you'll at least need the Rocks and Golems' Monster Medals to run through this section quickly.

The overall strategy is to kill the small fry and then focus on the bigger enemies. The Mummies will distract the bigger enemies when summoned, the Rocks will unleash a powerful attack and the Golem Medals will let you transform into one for a short amount of time.

To get the most out of this section, make sure that you have Desdemona use Scrap Mettle on the bigger enemies. Then switch to Lazarel and make sure he activates the Rock and Golem medals (remember: to get proficiency, you need to be using the character you want). Make sure to reapply Scrap Mettle in between uses, and also to go Sucker Punch > Cratermaker > Sucker Punch with the Golem to get a high DPS.

This section can be quite random, mostly because you're fighting three big bodies at once and since you're still technically level 2, it's pretty easy to accidentally die. While it doesn't matter if the other members die, you'll want Lazarel alive by the end so he can at least get some proficiency and EXP.

= = =

What Do These Idiots Want With Us?! (07:22)

Okay so I'm gonna say it now: this run of this section was *awful*. The battle goes: starting wave in the middle, then single Golem, then wave with Fires, then the Final Wave with the 2 Golems and the one Hunter Mech.

Typically, what you want to do is, aside from clearing the Waves, you'll also want to pick up a Golem Medal, a Rock medal and a Fire medal. In this run, I almost forgot about the third one, because I got extremely distracted by a Cloud at 08:11

The ideal way this goes is: final wave appears, Desdemona uses Scrap Mettle on all three, switch to Lazarel, use Fire medal, use Rock medal, then use Golem Medal. Doing this properly kills the boss really damn quickly. Here, I start it at 09:15 and I kill it in fifteen seconds which is fast for regular play, but is slow for a speedrun (I can usually cut off an extra five seconds).

The ending of the fight is also really bad. What's supposed to happen in regular play is that as the Final Wave occurs, you're supposed to be next to Maribel and Ruff and a dialogue is supposed to activate with them. I usually don't do this (so that I can clear the Mech and Goelms really fast), but what I forgot at the time was that after killing the Golem, you still need to talk to those two.

I forgot about that, and ended up wasting a bunch of time killing all the enemies (doing this forced the next scripted section, where the Dunisian sounds the retreat). You can see this stretch from about 09:34 to 10:17. While I haven't timed Maribel's dialogue, I'm pretty sure that a 53 second gap between finishing off the final wave, and actually ending the mission is probably what's not supposed to happen.

= = = 

Detour to Accordia With that mission done, you finally unlock Maribel and Ruff, who you both want to switch out Desdemona and Teresa for. You also want to upgrade Maribel, Ruff and Torneko, and also buy Lazarel a stronger set of Twin Swords.

Ruff's Upgrades (11:06) Yes, you do want Call of the Wild AND Flame Breath. Flame Breath is basically CotW, but weaker, but also with an element (Fire) and a cheaper MP cost. You'll actually be using it to build up Tension crazy good. Call of the Wild is so that when you get into High Tension, you have a better damaging option.

The only thing worth mentioning is that I'm really not sure about my decision to increase his Critical Rate over simply upping his MP and Strength stats. I think it's way too early-game for his critical stat to be useful.

Maribel's Upgrades (11:17) Make sure you pick up that Kasap skill. Oh, and I guess I'll mention the strangeness of the Wisdom stat. From what I can tell, Wisdom affects two types of attacks: "magical attacks" for magical weapons, and spells (like Zap, Woosh, Frizz etc. though not Whack. Whack doesn't count as a spell. Trust me, I've tested out Ring of Ruin with Whack; it doesn't get buffed)

In Maribel's case, the Wisdom stat only affects her Frizz spell, though some weapons and movesets (like any of the Heroes with the Wands, or Cesar) seem to get boosted by increasing Wisdom. I think. Maybe. It's been a hot while since I looked into the stat.

= = =

Maribel and Ruff In A Speedrun? Both characters are also cursed with the early joiners disadvantage, though Ruff has marginally more use compared to the other characters (and both characters are still incredibly helpful for the upcoming sections).

Maribel is one of those characters that really suffers from proficiency having her best abilities. In this run, she's effectively like having Desdemona "but with a far ranged defence drain skill"

Ruff is luckier, as his two best skills (Flame Breath, Call of the Wild) are easily accessible as soon as he's unlocked. Ruff's specialty is that he's probably the most mobile fighter in the game. I actually reuse him a few times later in the game, specifically because his combat-mobility is better than even Lazarel's C1 Dodge Loop, and it gets him through some of the more annoying open world segments (like the Frozen Foothills)

= = =

March of the Harbans (12:53) This fight is one of those battles with loose scripting that leads to a lot of inconsistent runs of this stage and it honestly sucks. It seems like eradicating all Mawkeepers, then all boss type enemies like the Golem, Clouds, Hunter Mechs, and then killing a certain amount of goons, will lead to Donk spawning at *some point*. 

It's worth mentioning that the Clouds (that spawn from the left) are very fast and annoying for the purposes of the getting the stage's scripting to work (you can sometimes have a Cloud reach the King of Harba without you noticing).

So there are these tar pits at 13:16. While I haven't fully tested it, I am like 90% sure that if you kill enemies on those parts of special terrain, enemies will not spawn Monster Medals. Like I'm pretty sure that's what's happening here because the Monster Medal rate of dropping in that area of the level is so consistently bad.

This stage continues straight into the next video.

[starrybennz]

Little Secret

Pairing: Vampire! Taehyung x Reader

Word Count: 2,648

Rating: M

Warnings: Unprotected Sex, Vaginal Oral Sex, Biting, (kinda) Dirty Talk

Author’s Note: I’ve never written on tumblr like this or written a BTS x Reader story before so I hope this is good. I usually write on AO3, so I hope this format is good. This is for A & B on @bang-tan-bitch cause their stories are amazing and partially helped inspire me to actually sit down and write this. (Also I’m sorry some of this isn’t the most original thing, but I tried my best lol.)

Today was Halloween, your friends had dared you to go spend the night in a haunted house.

The Kim House had been abandoned for about a century now. Everyone believed that the house was cursed because the youngest brother made a deal with a demon cursing the family to never be able to leave the house again--or something like that, you couldn’t really remember all that well what happened. But you did know that many people said that the ghosts of the three brothers are rumored to still be there, stuck in the house to this day.

While your friends believed the story, you didn’t buy it. You figured it was a story to keep little kids away from a structurally unsound house (come on, it is a century old, it can’t be safe after all this time). Plus, all that supernatural stuff wasn’t real. It was just some stuff people used in the past to explain how normal stuff happened. Ghosts, demons, vampires--all that stuff was just a myth.

Your friends told you to take video of you enter and leaving the house, and texting them an update every once and while by text. They wanted you, the most skeptical person of the rumor, to be the one to prove or disprove it. So you were to head to the house for the night with only a sleeping bag, flashlight, portable charger, and, of course, your cell phone.

As the sun started to set you started to make your way to the house. You walked through a small spanse of trees and onto the cobbles pathway that led to the large house. The gates were slightly open giving enough space for you to easily lip through. You slowly walked up to the door, taking in the expanse of time worn bricks and vines growing up the walls of the house. The windows were dusty and opaque.  You waited on the steps of the house until the sun was almost completely down, only then opening up your phone to take the video of you entering the house.

Once the video started, you turned the camera toward yourself and made a peace sign.

“Here, goes a night wasted sitting in an abandoned house,” you say as you grasp the door knob adjusting the camera toward the doorway so your friends will be able to see the furniture and everything inside.

As you scan the camera over the room you take in the sight in front of you. The furniture is all covered in large clothes and thick layers of dust making them gray and musty. There are there are tables next to every piece of furniture with candles on each one. There’s a large wooden staircase leading to a second floor and hallway off to the side. You turn off your camera and decide that you probably just stick to the main room and not chance getting hurt exploring. Your about to set up your sleeping bag when your phone buzzes.

Bestie: hey u gotta find the ghost

You: uh there’s no ghost? cause they’re not real

Bestie: uhhuh have you checked all the rooms??

You: no?? I don’t wanna fall through the floor tf??

Bestie: u won’t fall thru the floor, i won’t stop bothering u unless you send me pics of AT LEAST like 10 rooms cause that place is hugeee

You: but I was just planning on staying in the main room

Bestie: plssss just visit every room and then i’ll leave u alone for the night

You: fine but if I die it’s your fault and you’ll pay for my funeral

Bestie: uhhuh now go find that ghost!

You walked down the hallway on the first floor first carefully opening the 6 rooms and snapping pictures. They were all just guest rooms and storage closets (there’s nothing supernatural about dusty mops). There was also a dining area at the end of the hall that connected to a kitchen. The dining room had a large table with at least 20 chairs, and kitchen was fully stocked with a million types of pots, pans, plates, and cutlery.

Once you make it back to the main room you begin to dread the fact you must head upstairs.

You walk over to the the stairs and cautiously place your foot on the first step. When you have all your weight on it, it doesn’t even creak. That is strange to you because with no upkeep and regular movement in the house the stair should be creaky. You continue up the stairs cautiously, but they all seem to be in perfect condition. You are met with 12 doors to check. You quickly go through 11 doors and are met with more dusty bedrooms, a few study rooms, and a library. As you are about to enter the last room on the floor, your phone flashes saying it about to die. You decide to head back downstairs to plug it into your charger.

After you plug in your phone, you decide to go back and check out the last room you’d missed. You head up the stairs once again and walk down the hall to the last room. You quietly open the door and peek inside. This room had a desk a small bed and a piano. You walk inside and look around noticing there was so little dust in the room compared to the others.

You slip into the seat of the piano, letting your fingers hover over the keys before pressing one. The note resonated in the deep silence of the room. You continue to let your fingers continue down the notes on the piano until you remember a song you learned once. Your bring your other hand up and begin playing Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata, the only song your grandmother remembered and taught you how to play on the piano. You make a few mistakes, since it been a while since you played it, but you find yourself getting lost in the music as you continue to play and you get the feel of the piano again. You keep playing until you finish the song. Then you hear something.

More specifically, someone. Clapping.

You whip your head around and are met with a man seeming to be around your age. Your eyes narrow.

“Who are you?” you ask.

He smirks. “I think I’m the one who should be asking that question since this is my house, but since you played so beautifully I’ll answer you. My name is Taehyung.” He walks over to the bedside table to light a candle, illuminating the room with the orange light.

You laugh, “This can’t be your house, no one has lived here for a century.”

“Oh? You don’t know the story? Or you don’t believe it?”

You roll your eyes, “Ghosts don’t exist. That’s just a story they tell kids to keep them off the property.”

Taehyung smiles, “Whoever said I was a ghost? I’m just as alive as you. See?” He says grabbing your hand and pulling you up toward him.

You look up at him, studying his features. “Then what are you?”

“Tell me your name first.”

You stare at him in confusion. “Why do you want my name? It’s not important.”

“Well I’d just like to call you something other than ‘girl’ or ‘you there’,” he laughed.

You huffed a sigh, “Fine. I’m (y/n). Now answer my question, if this is your house and you’re not a ghost, what are you?”

Taehyung smiles wide and you notice something out of place in his teeth, were those…

“You’re a vampire?” you whisper quietly.

“Perceptive, girl,” he says moving toward the piano.

“Are you gonna kill me?”

“No, no,” he chuckles as he sits at the piano. “You’re the first person to come here since my family was killed. I’ve honestly just been lonely and find you very beautiful.”

You blush at his words. You’ve never been called beautiful, all the other girls are much prettier than you and always get the boys.

“I’m sorry your family got killed.That’s really terrible. Would you like to talk about it?” you ask, actually concerned for this boy.

“No, I’m over it now,” he says smiling sweetly at you. His smile was boxy and inviting. “But I really appreciate you asking about it, gorgeous.”

“I’m not beautiful. Stop saying that.”

Taehyung shakes his head at the statement. “Who told you that? I’ve seen many girls and none were quiet as beautiful as you. Just cause I’m a century old doesn’t mean I haven’t left this place. I gotta eat somehow,” he says with a wink

You shivered at the thought of him biting someone and feeding off of them and honestly wondered how it felt.

You look over his features more, taking in his golden, brown eyes. His plush pink lips, that just enticed you to kiss them and you imagined to be flush against your throat as he bit you. He deep brown hair, glistening  in the candle light. You continued down looking at his torso, his shirt unbuttoned partially giving you some access to the tanned and smooth expanse of his chest, his collar bones prominent. Finally your eyes moved down farther, falling upon his crotch. It was--

It was then Taehyung chose to speak.

“Like what you see?”

Your eyes snapped back to his. “Uh.. yeah…” you say, wonder in your voice. “What does it feel like? To be bitten, that is.”

Taehyung chuckled at your curiosity. “I usually make try to make pretty pleasurable. Most time I go into town and pick up a girl under the pretense it’s just a hook-up and then I just drink enough to sustain myself and make her forget the night. The girls usually seem pretty pleased when I bite them so I assume it feels good.”

You nod, silently processing the information.

“Do you want to know how it feels?” he says, a playful glint present in his eyes.

You stare him down cautiously. “What are you offering me?”

Taehyung smiled sly, alluring smile. “What do you want me to offer?”

You decide to take the initiative, walking forward and sliding onto his lap, straddling him and wrapping your arms around his neck, “Whatever you wanna give me.”

He grabs your chin, pulling you into a heated kiss, closing all the space between the two of you. You moan into his mouth as he proceeds to kiss you deeper.

You squeak in surprise as he picks you up and walks you over to the bed dropping you down onto the silky sheets. You watch him as he unbuttons the rest of his shirt, exposing the entirety of his chest and arms. His arms and chest were smooth and muscled, the tan of his skin looking golden in the candle light.

Taehyung moves to kneel over you on the bed, sliding his hand under your shirt, pushing it up over your breasts.

“God, you’re so gorgeous,” he breathes out as he begins to knead your breasts over your bra. “Whoever told you you weren’t beautiful, was so wrong. I can’t get enough of how beautiful you are.”

You hum as moves his knee between your legs and presses it against your cunt. He helps you pull your shirt and bra off, tossing them aside without a care. He leans down and presses open mouth kisses to your neck, slightly nipping at the skin there, as well.

“How are you feeling, beautiful? I wanna make you feel so good. Wanna make you feel beautiful,” Taehyung whispers into your ear.

“Feels so good, please I want more,” you pant, moving your hands to grasp at his pants, attempting to pull them off. “Wanna feel you. Wanna please you.”

He chuckles, leaning down to capture your lips, kissing you deeply. “Don’t worry, beautiful. You’re doing wonderfully.”

He unbuttons his pants, sliding them off along with his underwear. His cock was erect and dripping with pre-come. You moved to remove you own jeans and underwear as you began to feel your body heat up with more arousal.

Taehyung knelt down at the edge of the bed to swipe his tongue between your folds, pulling more soft breathy moans from your mouth as he repeated his action.

He moaned softly at the feeling of your heat and wetness on his tongue. He loved knowing he could make such a beautiful girl feel so good.

He removed himself from your cunt causing you to whimper a bit at the loss of stimulation. He chuckled as he got up to rearrange the two of you to the center of the bed. The two of you sat up and he pulled you in for another deep kiss, licking inside of your mouth. He pulled you to straddle his lap on your knees, snaking his arm around to slip his fingers into your tight heat.

Your breath hitched as you felt his fingers enter you, groaning his name into the kiss. He pumped his fingers in and out of you, pulling away from the kiss to latch on to the area between your neck and shoulder, sucking and nipping at it.

You began to move your hips to meet Taehyung’s fingers movements, sliding your hands up into his hair, lightly pulling at the dark strands.

“Taehyung, please,” you want feeling you orgasm near. “Want your cock.”

He unlatches from you neck with a smile. “You want me to fuck you, baby? Take my cock and mess you up ‘til you can't remember anything but my name and the feel of my cock,” he questioned as he removed his fingers.

“Please, god yes, I want it,” you whined, squirming due to the lack of stimulation. “Please, Taehyung, please.”

“Since you asked so nicely,” he said, moving you to lay on the bed in front of him. “Ready, beautiful?”

You nod enthusiastically and gasp as you feel his cock enter you. Taehyung leans down to whisper deeply in your ear.

“You’re so tight around me, sucking me inside you. I love the way you feel around me,” he says, causing you to moan softly as he thrusts into you. He moves from you ear back to the spot on your neck he’d been focusing on before. He started to lick and nip at it again, while at the same time moving his hands to fondle your breasts, pinching your nipples.

Taehyung relished in your soft whimpers and moans as he continued to thrust into your heat. As you felt your orgasm nearing, you began to dig your nails into the skin of his back, your slick walls tightening around his cock.

You groaned as Taehyung’s thrusts hit harder and deeper as both your orgasms neared.

“‘M gonna come, Tae, please, bite me now, please,” you whined out, racking your nails down his back, his sweat loosening your grip.

Taehyung licked your neck one last time, then finally sinking his fangs into your neck. You feel a warmth spread through your neck through your body as you feel Taehyung take your blood. His hips come to a stop as he comes inside you, the combination of his bite and ejaculation triggering your own orgasm.

He continued to drink for a minute or so after both of your orgasms, releasing your neck and pressing soft kisses to the area afterward, as he removes his cock out of your cunt.

“Baby, you okay?” Taehyung asked, concern painting his features.

“Yeah, that was amazing,” you pant as you cuddle up to him. “I would totally do that again.”

He chuckles, “I’m glad, I’d love to have you here some more.” He kisses your head, pulling you close to his chest.

You smiled as you drifted off to sleep. You definitely were gonna tell your friends this place was empty, keeping Taehyung your little secret.

[bts7writings]

Red Dress

A/N ~ I’m sorry it took me so long to upload. Here it is!

Pairing: Reader x Hoseok

Genre: Fluff | Humor | Drabble

Words: 2k

“I don’t even know what to wear?” You sigh into the phone, casually digging through your bag for the apartment keys.

“Well...what were you thinking of wearing?” Your friend, Jennie, on the other line responds.

You finally find the keys and open your door, “Jeans, probably a t-shirt?”

You hear your friend groan into the phone “Y/n, you’re going to a party not a family game night.”

“So?”

“So - ” You head over to your kitchen to try and find something to eat. “Hoseok’s’ going to be there”

You feel your cheeks redden immediately, you clear your throat trying to shake away the nervous feeling creeping up with only the mention of his name. “So? He thinks I’m still a child…He even patted my head the last time I saw him.”

“Wear that nice red dress you got last week”

You open your cabinets and spot a solitary pack of ramen. “You mean the one you got in my size and kept insisting to put it in my closet, that red dress?”

She laughs a bit, “Are you going to wear it though?”

“I’ll take your suggestion into consideration” You put your phone between your ear and shoulder and you take a pot to fill with water.

“Y/n, come on”

“I’ll think ab-“

“Y/n! please please pleas-”

“Alright, I’ll wear it - stop using your weird aegyo voice on me and let me eat my ramen in peace.”

“You’ll thank me when Hoseok’s jaw drops, I’m hanging up - call you when I get home.”

“Oh my god - I have good taste” You hear Jennie says as you walk past her to the full length mirror in her room. “Tell me I’m wrong?”

“I’m going to get hyperthermia” you joke. You turn around to eye your body and you have to admit Jennie does have good taste. The red dress outline very curve of your body, really outlining your thin waiste. You breathe out slowly and feel a side of anxiety kick in. “I don’t know..”

“I have a long coat I could lend you” she get up from her bed, walking in your direction, taking a black coat with her - wrapping it around herself  “And then when you’ve settled in..BAM!” she jokes pulling the coat apart in a dramatic way. “Let’s just have fun tonight, y/n. Now sit down and let me do your hair and makeup”

You already feel like you shouldn’t be there. The club has been reserved for the party and immediately you wanted to go back into the confides of your warm room and turn on Netflix.

Jennie gently grabs your wrist and pulls you to greet some mutual friends. Just as you were starting to be at ease your eyes unconsciously scan the room for Hoseok. When they found him you mentally chided your brain for being so careless.

He was leaning against the bar with a handful of his friends. His being was literally spilling out shine and charisma, not only that, but his smile (while not being at you) had the effect to catch your breath.

“Y/n!” Lisa came over and hugged you “I thought you weren’t coming”

“Well you know…” you motion towards Jennie. Lisa follows your gesture and laughs.

“I get it. Grab a drink with me?” Just as you were about to refuse, she's already  grabbing your wrist and pulling you in the direction of the bar. She casually takes a seat and talks to the bar tender with two fingers up. “Two cokes, please.”

“y/n!” You turn from Lisa to see Jungkook coming up to you with a wide smile, he leans over to the bartender and says, “A regular for me.”

“So two cokes and a milk glass?” You joke earning a laugh from Jungkook.

“Where have you been? Are you scared Taehyung will kick your ass in overwatch again?” He takes a seat next to Lisa.

“I’ve been busy, you know how it is” you shrug, awkwardly standing infront of the both of them, “Hows-”

“Aren't you hot in that?” You hear Jennie voice from behind you. You turn around, raising an eyebrow at her.

“Wh-No, I’m-” before you could formulate a logical sentence, Jennie gently pulled the long coat off of you and put it behind a random bar stool.

“Jen-” She casually pulls your hair to the front.

“Hush, Hoseok looks like he’s coming over - no don't look, y-”

Too late on the responds, you neck practically breaks face Hoseok and just as Jennie said, he’s definitely looking.

He’s not facing you, only his eyes and momentary attention is on you before turns back to his ongoing conversation. His emotion unreadable.

You unconsciously bite your lip and turn back to your friend. “I told you not to turn back.”

“Are you talking about Hobie-hyung?” Jungkook smiles, grabbing one of the cokes set by the bar tender and handing it to you. “I say just get it over with and confess.”

“Yeah like thats easily said and done.”

Lisa takes a sip of her drink and nods, “Well...now’s your chance, he’s coming over.”

“Y/n, since when do you come to parties?” You turn at the sound of his voice, trying to calm down the shiver threatening to run through your body. “You don't seem the type”

“Thought I’d try something new.”

“Ah” he says letting his eyes rest on your bare shoulder, “Aren’t you cold?”

“Y/n!” Namjoon, Jackson, and Chanyeol come up to the bar as well.

“We were trying to see which one of us would dare to buy you a drink” Jackson wiggled his eye brows jokingly. “Hold on, I think BamBam just came - I’ll be back” he walks away in the direction of the crowd.

“Yeah, we didn't know it was you. So would you like a drink?” Namjoon smiles, “To celebrate you getting out of the house.”

“Sure.” Chanyeol blocks Namjoon hand dramatically and reaches for his own wallet.

“What would you like?” You jokingly smile at him and point at a random item on the menu, knowing full well you weren't going to drink it.

You turn slightly to see Hoseok with a blank expression. “Are you alright?” He doesn't get to answer because the drink comes in - you give a slight scoff at the size of the huge drink.

“Having second thought?” Chanyeol says, as if reading your mind. “I’ll drink -”

“I-” You didn't want to owe Chanyeol later for him taking you drink so you reached for it on your own, but Hoseok hand pushes yours away and takes the drink.

“Don’t worry, I’ll drink it” He jokes, “You’ve probably not experiences with heavy drinks.”

“Maybe I am.” You meant it as a joke, but the way Hoseok eyebrow raised and lips fell tells you he didn't take it that way

“Right.”

“How about we grab some seats?” Jungkook suggest, sensing the tension, as he drags Hoseok to the side.

“Hoseok’s really got caught of guard with you y/n” Lisa comments

“Why?”

“You really are clueless” Chanyeol jokes, “Namjoon, shouldn't you tell her”

“Tell me what?”

“I don't t-”

Namjoon's voice faded as they both came back with two seat each. You and Jennie take seats, while Jungkook returns to his previous seat.

“Hyungs, sit down - you both shouldn't grow anymore” Jungkook jokes at Namjoon and Chanyeol.

“Y/N.” Your laughter dies from your lips as you feel Hoseok capture your attention when he puts his coat on your lap. You have been sitting down with everyone and completely forgot that you were wearing the red dress. “Don’t come with dresses like that if you’re going to be joking around, it’s childish”

“What’s with you?”

“What’s with me?”

“You’ve been bumming the mood since I’ve got here. I’m sorry I ruined the grown up meeting - seriously, I won't bother coming next time if you’re going to feel like a protective older brother all night.”

He opens his mouth to say something back, but “J-HOPE!” you hear Yoongi and Jimin call from behind Hoseok, who has lost interest in the conversation with a quiet “forget it”, turned his back back to say, “BROTHERS!”

You throw your black high heels onto your couch ad walk to your room barefoot, trying to find the zipper on the dress.

“Oh lord” you sigh, when you wiggle out of the dress and sigh in relief when your bra is clipped off.

You throw the dress randomly across the room and dig in your closet for your large night gown. Just as you pull the bottom of the gown down you hear your phone ring.

You half speed walk into the living room and grab you phone off the coffee table.

“Hello?”

“Y/n! The boys wanted me to call to check if you got home safe.” you have a difficult time hearing namjoon as the speakers on his side was still blasting music from the club

“I can’t hear you that well” you say putting the phone away from your ear.

“I said the..hold on”

Once you hear the music fade a bit you respond to him. “I did get home safe, thank Hoseok’s manager for me.” You’re interrupted by a high shrill scream that is suppose to be the lyrics of the song playing, “I feel bad he had to come all the way across town to drop me off”

“Its alright. Hoseok planned on dropping you off originally, but as you can see…”

“Yeah” you laugh, remembering he had a little too many drinks with the guys. “Is he the one screaming in the background”

“He’s the only one screaming - I’m glad you got home safe, I have to get our maknae from behind the bar.”

You try your hardest not to make any noise as you enter the dorm. Opening the refrigerator door, you place the container in.

You hear someone walking around you and look up to see Hoseok. “Oh hey” you look up and smile brightly before closing the refrigerator door.

“Don’t think I’m robbing you guys” you joke, earning a slight laugh from him. “I made some hangover soup for you and the others.”

“You didn’t have to do that.” he says, leaning against the counter, “How’d you sleep? Did you make it home safe?”

“Everything was fine. I should get going, Enjoy the soup”

Once you passed him you feel a slight pull on your shirt.

“Y/n wait. Yesterday…” You turn back to see him shuffle his feet nervously before looking up at you. “I wanted to drop you off”

“Oh, don’t worry about that, your manager dropped me off. You-”

“No, but I really wanted you.” You raise in eyebrow in confusion. “I was suppose to drop you off and tell you that I liked you, but I managed to screw that up”

“W-why did you want to drop me off” you decided to boldly ask

“Do you want to know the truth?” He accepted your silence as a form of yes and laughed shakily, “I was really mad…Not at you. I just didn’t like everyone staring at you-”

“Wh-”

“Honestly, it’s not that I figured I was the only one that liked you, but that dress just caught the others attentions and I just felt like I was running out of time to tell you.”

All the while he was avoiding your eyes until it was your turn to speak and you couldn't help but fight back a smile. “Tell me that you like me?” You walk forward a bit to look him closer in the eyes. He leans down, but you lean back raising your eyebrow - waiting for his answer.

He smiles and nods, “Yes, I want to tell you I like you.”

He leans in again and this time you don't lean back, feeling his soft lipstick yours. “But I wouldn't mind a private show with the red dress - private” he emphasizes.

“Thank god” Jungkook groans out of the bedroom, making his way to get a glass of water, “It’s about time. Namjoon and Yoongi were starting to place bets, you know.”

__________________________________________________

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[sterekchub]

Chubby Derek Prompt: Stiles works at an ice cream shop, and Derek comes in every day to flirt with him but can't quite work up the nerve. Meanwhile, Stiles can't exactly flirt in front of his manager but he keeps sneaking Derek extra ice cream or toppings in his sundaes. Cue Derek getting chubby from their courting.

So I turned this into a chubby!lawyer Derek story. Not a cohesive story…more like snippets into their relationship. I tried this new style…don’t think I like it so probably won’t be doing it again. But chubby derek is always my fav :) This one is more plot and my others are so far ending up as nothing but chubby banter. :)

I have more amazing prompts I’m working on, but feel free to submit more!

“Hi! Welcome to Freezer Treats.”

The guy ignores Stiles and starts looking at the menu like he had never ordered ice cream before. Judging by his physique he probably hadn’t. His dress shirt was tight, not obscenely so, but enough that Stiles was sure there was a six pack of abs under there and not the slightest hint of any pudge around his waist. The man and his suit looked like they came out of Armani catalogue. He had to be a porn star or a model; otherwise he was simply wasting a perfect opportunity to flaunt his good looks.

“If you don’t know what you want, I could make suggestions?”

“A small chocolate.”

“Umm, sure big guy. You like peanut butter?”

He gets a nonverbal nod in response. Oookay then. Cute, but not a talker. Stiles can work with that.

The credit card he gets handed is a company card from Wolfram Law and, if possible, Stiles swoons just a little bit more. Wolfram Law was one of the top law firms in New York, known for taking on some groundbreaking cases most attorneys would never touch.

So drop-dead gorgeous and intelligent enough to be in the most prestigious law office around. That makes Stiles more willing to forgive this mystery guy for the sour look on his face. Seriously, who frowns at ice cream?

Especially the triple scoop, chocolate peanut butter sundae, with extra peanut butter cups added.

Small nothing. The guy can clearly use the extra sugar.

***

“Hey, Sourwolf!”

The guy glares at him. “Stop calling me that.”

“I don’t know what else to call you. Your credit card just says Wolfram Law and I’m not calling you that.”

“Do you always read people’s credit cards?”

Stiles shrugs. “We’re supposed to check the names and the signatures. You don’t know how many people with stolen cards come in here. Who steals a card and gets ice cream? Seriously like, why not buy a plane ticket or jewelry or something.”

“How do you know I haven’t stolen this card?”

“You look like a lawyer,” Stiles grins. “The broody face, expensive suit…plus who would steal a card, use it at the same place for a week, and use it a block down from where they stole it? If you’re going to get arrested, go out in luxury on some private island, dude.”

“Don’t call me dude.”

***

“Is that a joke? Stiles?”

“Seriously? You just noticed the name tag?”

“Yes.”

“Why would I write a fake name? I’m not trying to get fired.  Stiles Stilinski is my full name.”

“That’s not a real name.”

“Trust me, my real first name is awful. Stiles is way better.”

“If you say so.”

“I’ll have you know the manager let me create the Stiles Surprise and it is a legendary dessert on campus.”

By legendary, he means a sugar overload of marshmallows, gummy bears, hot fudge, and a mix of four ice cream flavors that change depending on his mood. He hands it over and the lawyer raises an eyebrow – which Stiles has decided is the key to deciphering all his moods – but he takes it without complaint.

“Bye, Sourwolf!”

***

After two weeks, Stiles finally gets his name.

“You can just call me Derek, you know,” the man- Derek, apparently – says gruffly.

“What?”

“Derek Hale. That’s – I figured you knew.”

“How would I know that? You haven’t once introduced yourself.”

“Everyone around here knows the firm. I figured…” Derek shrugs, looking embarrassed. “Never mind.”

Stiles might – might- possibly brush his fingers against Derek’s while he hands over the waffle cone surprise – a waffle cone coated with two layers of chocolate and caramel.

“See you tomorrow, Derek.”

Stiles gets a smile that shows a bit too much teeth to be considered truly friendly, but it’s a start.

***

“It’s sinful,” Stiles moans to Scott, flopping down on the bottom bunk. “No one has a right to lick ice cream cones like that.”

“How have you not been fired?”

“I don’t talk about how he ‘floats when he walks’ or has a ‘smile like sunshine’ or is ‘the one true love of my life’ constantly.”

Scott smiles broadly. “Well she is. And at least I wasn’t giving her free food every day.”

“Hey he pays. For some of it. He needs to indulge his sweet tooth more often; I’m just helping him relax more.”

Scotts rolls his eyes and coughs. “Sure. That’s why.”

***

Stiles really hates the store’s policy. There was a strict no dating or flirting with the customers rule that came into place when Scott was fired. Allison smiled at him once and the entire soft serve mix he was holding had spilled over the floor – which was still sticky no matter how many times Stiles mops it. It wasn’t fair. Scott got fired, started dating Allison, and got a great job at her father’s company; Stiles is stuck with sticky floors and student loans that mean he really needs this job, no matter how hot Derek Hale is.  

He can’t figure Derek out. He stops into the store on a regular basis, always at the same time, exchanges some snarky banter of increasingly long duration with Stiles, then leaves. It has to be Derek’s way of flirting. Why else stop in so often?  Stiles loves ice cream more than anyone, but even he can’t eat it every single day.

Not that he’s complaining. It was slowly becoming noticeable that some extra weight was creeping unto Derek the last few months. Nothing too obvious, unless you were invested in memorizing his features like Stiles was, but Derek’s cheeks were starting to fill out slightly and there was a definite tightness where his pants had started digging into the small accumulation of fat around his waist.

Stiles feels only slightly guilty for hoping Derek decides to keep stopping in, his barely rounded belly growing to be a proper gut, while the rest of his body expands to match.

He definitely does not start giving Derek extra whipped cream on everything he orders.

***

The next time he comes in, Derek again orders a small ice cream and looks exasperated when Stiles hands him a large.

“I ordered a small. I always order a small.”

“The upgrade is on me. For my favorite customer.”

“You’re the reason my pants don’t fit.”

“You look fine to me. More than fine, actually. Like unacceptably hot.”

“These are a bigger pair,” Derek mutters.

Stiles does not check out his rounded ass on the way out and confirm his suspicious not all the weight is going to his stomach. Nor does he get a write up from his manager, who overheard him ‘inappropriately complimenting customers.’ Whatever.

***

When Derek next comes into the shop, a strikingly attractive blonde woman wearing a top far too revealing to be appropriate, is standing behind the counter, looking extremely bored.

“Is Stiles here?”

“Obviously not.” She studies him intently, then smirks at him. “You must be Derek. Stiles mentions you a lot.”

“I don’t want to know,” Derek sighs. “I’m sure it’s nothing good.”

The woman rolled her eyes. “You’re as oblivious as he is.”

Derek orders a small milkshake. He gets a large one, piled with whipped cream and sprinkles.

“Stiles’ order.”

***

Derek actually orders a large sundae. Not to be outdone, Stiles gives him two extra brownies, topping it off with five scoops of cake batter ice cream and an ungodly amount of whipped cream.

“You should definitely order that every day.”

“I’ve gained twenty ponds since I started coming here, Stiles.” Derek teases, pinching at his love handles starting to spill over the waistband of his pants.

“So what’s twenty or thirty more?”

“Jesus, Stiles. You’re going to make me fucking fat.”

“Yep. Too late to stop now, buddy. You’ve been coming in every day for months, admit you’re totally addicted. And not that you weren’t amazingly good looking before but, chubby is a good look for you.”

***

Stiles stares for a solid twenty seconds at Derek when he walks in and hopes the arousal he feels isn’t terrible obvious. Derek’s shirt is stretched so tightly against his plump belly that Stiles can see skin between the buttons. He’s dying to just touch him, undo the buttons and squeeze and kiss and grab, now that there is so much more to Derek then when he had first come into the shop.

“Wow – hi, Derek. How was your Christmas?”

He pats his stomach and Stiles is extremely grateful he his standing behind the counter. “I definitely overdid it a few times.”

Derek orders a milkshake in addition to a sundae. Stiles isn’t sure his legs are going to support him for much longer.

“I don’t know, looks like you could fit more in there, big guy.”

“Guess I could handle two sundaes.”

Derek leaves with two less buttons on his dress shirt and a swollen stomach that Stiles wants to bury his face in.

***

“Stiles, this is my older sister Laura.”

Stiles waves cheerfully. “Anyone tell you that you have the same terrifying brooding face that Derek does?”

Laura laughs. “I like this one, Derek.”

She goes to order something and Derek shakes his head. “Don’t bother. Stiles has yet to listen to what someone actually orders.”

“Guilty as charged.” He gives them both his salted caramel toffee sundae.

Laura only eats half hers, then pushes the other half to Derek.

“Now I know why you’re getting chubby, Der,” she teases, putting a hand on Derek’s stomach. “I’d be huge if I ate like this every day.”“Don’t knock it until you’ve tried it,” Stiles grins. “Derek is keeping us in business. 

“You know, Stiles, we have an opening in our research division, if you wanted. Free donuts every morning in the breakroom…the chocolate ones have always been Derek’s favorites.”

Stiles waits until his manager is looking before surging forward and kissing Derek. (Stiles may also take one of the huge ice cream vats with him later that day. But hey, he’s quitting anyway. And chocolate is Derek’s favorite flavor).

***

[avengerofyourheart]

Leave This Town Pt 2 (Mechanic!Bucky AU)

Characters: reader, Bucky, Natasha, Wanda

Summary: Your dreams of kissing your small town life goodbye are about to come true when an unexpected detour leaves you stranded. Meeting the handsome local mechanic has you rethinking your plans. Perhaps happiness is less about where you’re headed and more about the people you meet along the way.

Song Inspiration: Sleep on the Floor by The Lumineers

Warnings: none! The mildest of swearing I guess? 

Word Count: 2.3k

Tags are at bottom (TAG LIST IS CLOSED I’M SORRY)

A/N: Holy bananas, you guys. Once I started writing this part, I got carried away  and I’m probably extending this fic by a few parts. heh. I’m so in love with this story, and that’s probably why! I really hope you are too. Any thoughts and feedback are appreciated! I love you all!! :)

***This fic is for @bionic-buckyb ‘s 5k AU Writing Challenge**

<<<Part One  Part Two   Part Three>>> 

Leave This Town Series Masterlist

Full Masterlist

_________________________________________________

Previously: 

“Try the Boysenberry Pie while you’re there. Even for breakfast, it really hits the spot.”

Taking a few steps backward, you gave him a smile, “I’ll do that,” then turning to walk away.“Oh, Y/N!” you heard him call after you and you whirled in place, surprised. 

“Keys. I need your keys.”

You laughed, shaking your head, “Right. Sorry.” Digging into your purse followed by a toss of the keys, he caught them out of the air before you headed in the direction of the diner once again.

________________

A bell above the door jangled lightly as you entered the diner, the smell of hot grease hitting your nose. Straight ahead there was a counter with barstools, a view of the kitchen behind it. To both your left and right along the wall lined with windows, there were built-in booths with splitting vinyl cushions and spotted formica-covered tables.

The waitress behind the counter spoke, drawing your attention. “Hey, sweetie. Take a seat wherever you like, I’ll be with you in a jiffy.”

“Okay,” you responded with a tight smile.

Choosing a booth, you dropped your bag and sat down. You looked around, seeing only 2 other customers currently sitting at the counter with coffee mugs in their hands. Moments later, a pretty redhead approached, wearing a sleeveless button-up flowered shirt and jeans under the apron around her waist. Bright red lipstick painted her lips as she talked to what looked like a regular customer. Probably a local.

“Sorry about the wait, hun. You just roll into town?” she asked you while handing you a menu, then pulling a small notebook and a pen out of her apron pocket.

“Yeah. Just passing through. I hope,” you replied, a nag of doubt in your voice.

“You hope?” she questioned, raising an eyebrow.

“It’s my car. I don’t know how long it’ll take to fix it,” you huffed out in a sigh.

“I see,” she nodded. “Well, don’t fret, Bucky’ll take care of you, no problem.”

Your own eyebrow raised at the mention of his name, but you should have known that everyone knew everyone here. The blessing and curse of small towns.

“I”m Nattie. Can I get ya something to drink to start? Coffee?”

You jumped at the offering. “Yes! Coffee, please,” then offering your own name.

“Nice to meet you, Y/N. Welcome. Coffee, you got it. I’ll give you a minute with the menu,” she said with a smile before walking around the counter for the coffee pot.

After ordering breakfast and a slice of the recommended Boysenberry pie, you sipped your coffee and pulled out your planning materials and laid them on the table. You had hoped to be 8 hours further into your journey, even having planned out where you would stop and either sleep in your car if it seemed safe or a cheap motel if needed. This pit stop wasn’t ideal, but you could adjust.

A few hours later, you waved goodbye to Nattie and left the diner. Breakfast was delicious and the pie was every bit as amazing as Bucky had promised. It was mid-afternoon as you strolled down the main road past the elementary school grounds full of screaming children out for recess, the small public library, a barber shop, and the post office.

Approaching the auto body shop, you could hear classic rock blasting from the radio, then following the sound into the open garage. You didn’t see anyone at first glance, but after looking in between cars, you finally spotted a pair of long legs poking out from underneath a jacked-up car.

“Hello?” you announced yourself.

“Just a minute,” came the muffled response.

A few seconds later he rolled out from underneath the car and got to his feet, wiping his hands on a rag.

“Hey,” he greeted you with a smile. “How was the diner?”

“Really good. The pie was okay,” you shrugged, then sneaking in a smile.

He crossed muscular arms over his chest. “Is that so? Well, there’s something wrong with your tastebuds then,” he grinned a you.

You let the moment linger, a crackle of electricity in your veins as you held his gaze. He then cleared his throat and walked over to your car, hood already raised.

“So,” he began, “I was right. It’s the radiator. Looks like there’s a crack that was sloppily patched so it was only temporary. How long have you had the car?”

You shook your head in disbelief. “About a week. That sneaky weasel! I can’t believe Brock sold it to me like that!” you exclaimed, gesturing to your broken vehicle.

“Guy sounds like a piece of work. Should’ve had it looked over by a mechanic before buying.”

“I did!” you explained. “Except…”

Bucky waited for you to finish.

“…he’s also the mechanic.”

The brunet burst out in laughter. “Well, that’s one way to keep business going. There’s a reason why doctors can’t be pharmacists, too,” he winked at you.

You let out a slow groan. “So what does that mean? You can fix it, right?”

“Oh, yeah. It’s an easy fix. Only problem is, I don’t have the part.”

“What?” you nearly shouted.

“I called and ordered it, luckily caught the guy before the truck left, but it won’t get here until Monday,” he said with an apologetic shrug.

You deflated, shoulders hunching as the news hit you. “Monday? That’s three days from now! Dammit,” you cursed as you slumped onto a stool next to Bucky’s work table.

“I know. I’m sorry, but I can only order if the truck is already passing by. They don’t make special trips to this small town. As far as cost goes, a new radiator runs about $250, plus labor it’s close to $500.”

Your mouth gaped open. “$500?” you exclaimed, then groaning as your head fell to your hands.

“It sucks, I know. These unexpected but necessary repairs aren’t cheap, but…”

“It’s fine,” you cut him off, taking a deep breath. “I can handle it. I budgeted for car repairs, but didn’t expect it to be this much so soon. And I’m not willing to dip into my emergency fund quite yet. There’s too much to take care of once I get there. I’ll just…I’ll sleep in my car more and avoid getting a hotel a few more nights. I’ll figure it out.”

Bucky pursed his lips, stuffing both hands in his jeans pockets. “You know…the labor charge isn’t a big deal, I could probably shave a few hundred dollars off. I don’t have a lot going on right now, so—“

You shook your head vigorously, resisting. “No. I can’t ask you to do that. You can’t just work for free on my behalf, that’s not fair to you. Mama didn’t raise no freeloader.”

He chuckled at that. “You didn’t ask. I’m offering. Really, I don’t mind. Doesn’t feel right to have you sleeping on the side of the road in exchange for a few dollars. Please, just let me,” he spoke, sincerity shining out of his bright blue eyes.

Chewing on your lip in consideration, you paused a moment until a lightbulb went off above your head. “What if….” you began, shifting from one foot to another. “What if I traded you labor?”

His brow furrowed in confusion. “What?”

“I mean, I could trade services with you somehow.”

Bucky’s eyes shot open at that.

“No! I mean….not…” you felt heat rising in your face, then clearing your throat. “What I meant was, I could…I don’t know, cut your hair for free or something. Even your whole family, I have my kit with me and I’m actually pretty good—“

The man straightened up at that, a hand flying up to his scalp. “Uh uh, no one touches my hair. You got a thing against long hair?” he accused you with a small smile, almost teasing.

“Wha—no, I mean, it doesn’t look good on some people, but it works for you, I kinda like the bun and with your face shape I just…I didn’t mean to criticize, I was thinking of what I could do…”

He grinned at your flustered demeanor, leaning against your car casually.

Clearing your throat, you looked around the garage. “Okay, well…do you need help around here?”

He eyed you carefully. “Can you do an oil change?”

You crossed your arms over your chest, slightly defensive. “No, but I can check my car’s oil and change a tire. I’m not afraid to get my hands dirty. I could also organize tools or do filing, answer the phone, help customers…whatever you need. I’ll be here til Monday regardless, so,” you shrugged, leaving the choice up to him.

Rubbing a hand over his scruff-covered jaw, he considered your proposal. “Okay. You can help with any projects you can find. It’s basically just me, so I could use another pair of hands sometimes. Tomorrow, though. You could probably use a few winks after sleeping in your car last night, right?”

You sighed, then nodding in resignation.

“There’s a motel about 3 blocks West that’s cheap and pretty clean. I can drive you there if you need to unload from your car,” he offered as he opened your rear driver’s side door.

“No, that’s okay,” you answered, only grabbing a medium-sized duffle bag from the back seat and slinging it over your shoulder. “I’ve packed pretty light. The rest can stay in the car, if that’s okay with you?”

“Sure. I lock up at night. So just head down this street then hang a left, it’ll be on your right. Maximoff Palace Motel,” he had pointed out each turn as he had spoken them, then punctuating his last statement with a firm nod.

“Got it,” you replied with a nod of your own. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow then? 9am?”

“Sounds good. Have a good night, Y/N.”

“You, too, James,” you teased, earning an eye roll and a smile from him.

You found the motel easily enough. Stepping through the glass door into the front office you were met with a girl a few years younger than you with long brown hair that fell in waves down to her waist and wide-set hazel eyes, giving her a doe-like appearance.

“Hi! Welcome to the Maximoff Palace. I’m Wanda. Room for one?” she chirped cheerfully with a smile.

“Yeah. Um..three nights I think?” you said, figuring you’d be leaving town Monday afternoon.

“Of course!” she replied, her fingers flying over the keyboard of an out-of-date computer. “What brings you into town?”

“Car trouble,” you explained with a sigh.

Wanda paused in her typing, then taking a good look at you. “Oh. So…you’ve met Bucky?”

“Yeah. I’m actually helping him out for the next few days. Just until my car is fixed,” you explained, no longer surprised when his name popped up.

“I see,” she said quietly, her cheerful demeanor losing its warmth somewhat. “Name, contact information, and credit card number?”

“Um…sure. Can I just pay cash, though?” you asked, fishing your wallet out of your bag.

“You can pay in cash when you check out but we need a credit card on file in case of damages or some other incident,” she said matter-of-factly. Probably in case you ran out on the bill, you assumed.

“Okay,” you agreed, giving her all the necessary information which she copied, then sliding a key across the counter to you.

“Room 17. Enjoy your stay,” Wanda offered with a tight smile.

“Thanks…” you responded hesitantly as you took the key. You wondered why the sudden chill in her mannerisms while exiting the office, but shrugged it off.

Finding your room up a flight of outdoor stairs, you lugged your bags through the doorway and dropped them on the floor beside the queen-sized bed. You slipped off your sandals and crawled under the covers, springs squeaking under your weight. The bed wasn’t the most comfortable, but exhaustion quickly took over and within minutes you were fast asleep.

_________________

You awoke in the early evening, squinting blearily at the bedside digital clock. Your mouth tasted like something died in it, so you sluggishly rolled over to the side of the bed and rummaged through a bag for your toothbrush, but then noticed you had forgotten to pack toothpaste. Figures. You shuffled to the bathroom and made do with just water and brushing your tongue, popping in a mint you found in your purse. Stomach growling, you decided it was time to venture out for dinner anyway.

You headed toward the center of town and ducked into the corner store for toothpaste, some snacks, and a few other items before heading back to the diner. Nattie greeted you with a wave as you entered and selected a booth. The diner was busier than that morning with a few couples and a family or two adding to the chaotic noise.

“Hey, sweetie. It’s good to see you again. Another minute with the menu?” the redheaded waitress asked when she reached your table.

Plucking a menu that was stashed behind the napkin dispenser, you perused it quickly before selecting a random entree. You weren’t feeling picky and the faster you ordered, the less waiting time on a busy night like tonight. You’d brought a book this time, one of your favorite often-read paperbacks with folded pages and a broken spine.

You took your time with dinner, eating while you read and occasionally people-watched unobtrusively. After paying your bill, you waved goodbye to Nattie and strolled down Main Street toward your motel. The day had finally cooled off and you found yourself enjoying the walk, peering into store windows and smiling at people you passed on the sidewalk.

Reaching your room, you flicked on the tv mostly for background noise and took a hard look at the detailed budget you had written up for your trip. Paying for 3 days in a motel and adding the car repairs, your wallet was taking a hit, but Bucky’s willingness to lower the bill would definitely help. You were grateful to this kind stranger and the thought of spending the whole day with him tomorrow was strangely exciting. Surprised to feel a few butterflies flutter in your stomach, you shook your head to clear away the feeling and got ready for bed.

I’ll be gone in a few days, you told yourself as you drifted off to sleep.

____________

Part Three>>> 

__________________________________________________________

Oh snap. This should be interesting! Well, I’m excited. :D Send me all your thoughts, I’d love to hear them! Love you guys!! 

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