#it was so much fun though i think once i have extra cash for silly things again i'll try and go a couple times a month in my neighbourhood

[saintjudes]

went to the gym for the first time yesterday and my body is hurting in ways i didn't know it could 🥲

[myherowritings]

PART 4. HOW THE RICH SUCK THEIR OWN DICKS

SUMMARY. Todoroki Shouto was a wealthy, young CEO who inherited his father’s enterprise. You were a barista at a local cafe who wouldn’t mind some extra cash. One day, Shouto came in during an early morning shift and tipped you such a large sum of money, you were certain it had to have been an accident. To your surprise and complete pleasure: It was not.

PAIRING. ceo!todoroki shouto x barista!reader

WORD COUNT. 2.9k

GENRE. ceo/barista au, fluff, eventual smut

WARNINGS. enji makes an appearance bleh, enji being classist, enji...ew, okay i swear most of the chapter is shouto and y/n being cute though 

A/N. ngl i have genshin brainrot real bad at the moment but i still have motivation for ceo!shouto and ceo!shouto only u.u there are only 7 parts to this series so we’re at the halfway mark already AHHH i hope u enjoy reading and lmk what u think!! :3 xx sof

SERIES MASTERLIST

© myherowritings — all rights reserved. reposting, modifying, copying, or translating of any kind is not allowed. do not read my writing as asmr. do not plagiarize.

Shouto’s day went from good to bad faster than it took to pull an espresso. 

It started off with a good morning text from you and having a brief, but pleasant, interaction at your work. Actually, the past few weeks have been going along a similar routine that he found himself settling into all too comfortably. You even upheld your promise of stealing him away one weekend to walk around the park, get food, and just have time to relax and be happy for once. 

Getting to be in your presence almost daily became so normalized in his life that even some of his employees heard about the cute barista with the best pastries. Yet, although he saw you often, he found himself wanting to talk to you more and more.

But for now, Shouto told himself to settle with starting the mornings off with you. They were the best mornings he’s had in a while and he didn’t want to sound ungrateful. 

Today, however, went sour fast after he heard his father was coming up to the top floor for a meeting with him. He didn’t find the idea of Enji visiting to be the most abhorrent thing, but the moment his father opened his mouth, Shouto quickly took that back. 

As expected, his father reminded him about the annual charity gala Todoroki Enterprises was expected to attend. Handfuls of galas ran through the year, but the once hosted by Naruhata Industries under the guise of raising money and awareness for the charities of choice.

In theory, a charity gala ball sounded humanitarian and a way for the upper class to give back, but in reality, most of the funds collected didn’t go to the actual charities, instead they went to paying for the venue, live bands, entertainment, the most expensive catering, decorations, and more. What presented itself as a charitable event in the eyes of the public was really a way rich people could flaunt their wealth and feel good about themselves for doing absolutely nothing to benefit society. A way for the rich to suck their own dicks, if you would. 

Shouto absolutely hated it. 

It was also a press opportunity and, in his father’s eyes, a way to gain public favor for the Todoroki business. Today, Enji attempted to tell him that bringing a date that fit the mold of high society was the best way for him to establish rapport through media coverage. Apparently, the image news outlets have placed on Shouto were either a heartbreaker and playboy with no care for other’s emotions, or a monotonous stoic who seemed like a robot with no care for other’s emotions.

In either cases, there seemed to be a theme of Shouto not caring for others. 

He sighed. 

“You can’t keep that image, Shouto,” said Enji with his arms folded across his chest. “If the media sees you with someone—a nice girl with a good upbringing—then your likeability will increase tenfold. If there’s no one you like, I’ll have to set up a date for you.”

For a while, he was torn between telling his dad to fuck off and trying to do as he said to keep peace within the family. But then, an image of you popped into his head.

“Actually, there is someone I like.” 

Enji narrowed his eyes. “Oh? An educated girl with wealthy parents?”

“There’s someone I like,” he simply repeated, the tone in his voice growing cold. 

He didn’t know anything about your upbringing or family nor did he exactly care. Shouto didn’t want to bring a date to the dumb gala, but if he had to, he would want it to be you. Only if you agreed, of course. But if you weren’t willing, then he had to face the facts that his father would most likely force a date of his own choosing upon Shouto. 

“That’s good you like someone, son,” Enji said through his teeth, “but we have to make sure it’s not some sort of...loose woman. That’d be even worse publicity—”

“I like someone and if you really cared about my happiness like you said you did, that’d be enough.”

There was a tense silence in the air. Shouto didn’t have enough fingers to count the number of times Enji had told him and his siblings that he would try to be a better dad. A caring dad who only wanted what was best for his children. A better husband for Rei. A better example for the public. The first few times, Shouto believed it. But Enji said the same things over and over again with no lasting change and Shouto was just fed up. 

After hearing the same lie told to him over and over again, it seemed to lose its weight. He seemed to lose his hope in his father ever changing.

Still, Shouto had to deal with him for as long as he lived. That much he knew as a son living in this society. 

But he hoped Enji at least had enough guilt to let him have this.

“Fine.”

Shouto blinked in surprise. 

Enji stated, “If you think your date can help your public image and not be a complete embarrassment to the business, you can bring them.”

That was the closest thing to approval Shouto would get today. He nodded and listened along to whatever else his father had to say, the only thing actually on his mind was thinking about how he would ask you out on a date to some stuffy gala. And hope that you’d say yes.

— ✩ —

“Wait, so, let me get this straight— You’re the CEO of Todoroki Enterprises and even after almost two months of knowing you, I had no clue?”

He inclined his head, looking solemn. “Yes, I’m sorry. Are you upset with me for not telling you sooner?” 

Initial shock aside, you couldn’t say that you were too surprised at the revelation. You knew Shouto was wealthy and probably in some high-up position in the business industry, but you never knew to what extent. A CEO? That had to be the highest rank in a company! And a company as well known as Todoroki Enterprises? 

The thought made you a little nervous. The guy you slowly befriended over the course of short cafe visits and silly texts was Mr. Todoroki? Or worse— The guy you stole away from doing work for a whole weekend was someone as busy as a CEO? You internally groaned. That had to be against laws of the universe or something. 

“I’m not upset, no,” you said with a shake of your head. “I just...can’t believe it I guess.” Eyes widening, you were quick to amend your words. “Well, I can believe it. You seem very intelligent and well-put together and, uh, rich! But I guess I just didn’t think a CEO would be so funny and kind.” You winced. “Oh no, is that mean to say?”

“I don’t think it’s mean.” He shrugged. “You’re right to say most people in this field aren’t known for their delightful temperaments.” 

You absentmindedly drummed your finger against your thigh, trying to process this new information. “So you’re Todoroki Shouto...and you want me to be your date to the Naruhata Charity Ball?” 

“Yeah. I know it’s a huge favor to ask, and I promise you can say no if you choose,” said Shouto in earnest. “I don’t want you to feel obligated to agree.” 

With a hum, you stretched your legs out under the table before crossing one over the other again. It was a Saturday afternoon where you had no work and Shouto managed to escape from his for a few hours of the day. You took him to your favorite ice cream place nearby and the two of you ate at a dining area outside the establishment. 

Just a mundane day as two friends hanging out with each other where you found out one of those friends was the chief executive officer of a billion dollar business headquartered in Japan. 

Totally normal, everyday occurrences, obviously. 

“And you need a date for this event?” you asked. In all honesty, you would be more than happy if Shouto asked you out on a date. He was fun and you enjoyed getting to know him. But these particular circumstances made you a tad bit more nervous.

“I normally wouldn’t need to bring one, but my father insists it’d help my public image and in turn the image of the company.” With a pinched look on his face, he took a bite of his ice cream. “In other words I bring a date or he picks one for me.” 

You weren’t the most caught up on super rich people drama, but it was almost infamous how estranged the Todoroki family was. Again, you didn’t know much but you did know enough to say that Todoroki Enji seemed like a Class A asshole. If you could help Shouto out with his weird dilemma, you saw no reason not to. 

“So this charita gala is like where they have those live auctions and silent auctions and get tipsy on fancy wine and champagne for hours right?”

He tilted his head to the side. “Yeah. Have you attended one?” 

“Not quite,” you said with a sheepish smile. “I’ve volunteered at one in school though. As one of those runners? It was fun. I got a bunch of those tiny complimentary candies!” Your mouth watered at the memory. “What kind of drug were in those candies? I’ve never had candy so good before!”

“The tiny, circular candies with the excessively big wrapper? The fruity ones?”

You shot up in your seat, excited he knew what you were talking about. “Yes! That’s the one!” 

The corners of his mouth quirked upwards. “I always see those at these types of events.”

“So… The candy will be there at the gala you want me to accompany you to?” 

“Most likely.”

“Can I take a bunch of those from candies there…?” you asked with an optimistic grin.

“I’ll be your accomplice in sneaking them out.”

“It’s a date!” you said before Shouto could get another word out. 

You’d be reunited with those yummy, fancy candies you’ve been separated from for far too long. What other reason did you need to agree? 

With a determined look on your face, you held your hand out for Shouto to shake to seal the deal. 

He blinked. “Wait. Did you want to discuss it some more? Maybe have a few days to think it through? I’m grateful, of course, but I don’t want you regretting anything.”

“No. I won’t regret it. I’d do anything to taste those candies again.”

Shouto looked unsure what to say. “Isn’t there some parable warning people not to be bribed by candy?”

“Not to take candy from a baby?”

“No. Not that one.”

“That’s the only one I know.”

“Never mind then.” 

The two of you exchanged confused looks before letting out fits of laughter. You weren’t sure if either of you knew exactly what the other was laughing at, but the moment was an enjoyable one nonetheless. 

“Yet another reason to bring me to that fancy event— I’ll make sure you’re entertained all the way through,” you playfully bragged, smoothing down the front of your shirt. 

“The event will definitely be more bearable with you there.” He licked a small bit of his ice cream from his pink spoon, making a sound of approval. “But you can change your mind about coming at any time, Y/N.”

“I won’t,” you said, holding a pinky out. “Pinky promise.”

With what seemed like a bashful expression on his face, Shouto extended his own pinky to interlock yours. You sealed it with a kiss and a heart, like you were a kid again. 

“Now, am I supposed to be in love with you at the gala?” you asked nonchalantly, finishing off your last bite of ice cream. He offered you a spoonful of his and you tried not to grow too flustered at Shouto feeding you his dessert. You murmured a quiet, “Thanks.”

He gave you a small smile. “You’re welcome. As for being in love… I don’t think that’s necessary. Just pretend you like being around me, I think.”

Under the table, you nudged his shoe with yours, pulling a face. “I don’t have to pretend about that, silly.” 

“Ah, well,” he paused, offering you another spoonful of ice cream, “I don’t either.”

“I’m glad.” Then, “Is this strawberry? I was never a big strawberry ice cream fan but for some reason this tastes so good.” 

You ignored the nagging voice in your head that said maybe it wasn’t so much the ice cream flavor but who you were enjoying it with. 

The two of you finished his dessert in peace and after cleaning up the area with a napkin, Shouto turned to you with an intent look on his face.

“Before the gala, would you mind if I talk you shopping so you could pick out what to wear?” he asked. “I would pay of course— It’s the least I could do to say thank you.”

You shook your head. “You don’t have to thank me! You’re my friend and I want to help.” You thought about it for a moment. “And get the candy.”

“Anything for the candy.”

“Exactly,” you said in complete seriousness. “But I wouldn’t mind going shopping with you. You could help me decide what to wear! I’m not exactly sure how to dress for an event as fancy as this.”

“You could wear anything to the event and still look amazing.” His words were ones of flattery but his tone sounded completely genuine. 

Heat rose to your cheeks at the compliment. “Look who’s talking— You’re practically runway ready no matter what time of day.”

“I’ve never walked a runway before.”

You stifled a laugh at his literal interpretation of your words. Cute. “Me neither.”

He looked confused at why you were grinning, but it still brought a smile to his own lips.

By now the sun had begun to set and Shouto was walking you to the train to see you off before you went home.

“Can I pick you up next weekend in the morning?” he said. “So we can get your outfit for the gala?”

“Sure! I’ll text you my address.” 

He nodded in contentment. “And again, you don’t have to worry about any costs.”

“Is this why my friends have called you a sugar daddy?” you teased, bumping your shoulder against his as you walked down the street, side-by-side. “But thank you. Shopping will be fun— We can even match colors!” 

“Mn.” He looked between the both of you, as if trying to picture what colors would complement each other. 

You crossed the sidewalk in a comfortable silence, enjoying the scenery by Shouto’s side. A few times, you even felt his knuckles brush against yours and you had the undeniable urge to hold his hand. Would that be weird? you asked yourself before deciding against it. 

Just because he asked you to be his date for the Naruhata Charity Ball didn’t mean he actually liked you, right? It was just a favor from a friend to a friend.

Something about that though made your stomach unsettled. Maybe part of you wanted it to be a real date— Wanted this to be a real date. 

“So I won’t be seeing you tomorrow,” you said after a moment’s silence, trying not to look too dejected. 

You knew he’d still text good morning and good night and ask you random things throughout the day (all of which you found really endearing, by the way), but it was still different from seeing him in person. Even though your time together in the morning was small, they still were enough to make your day. The thought of your waking hours being so entwined made you nervous, but for some reason it didn’t bother you as much as you thought it would. In fact, it was sort of...nice. 

“I’ll see you Monday morning, right?” you asked hopefully, though you were already fairly certain of the answer.

Shouto nodded. “Of course. It’s already marked on my calendar.”

“Ever the flatterer, hmm?” 

“Not flattery, just the truth.” He pulled his phone out and showed you his (rather packed) calendar app. To your surprise, a little reminder that said ‘See Y/N :)’ was marked on his Monday schedule. 

Unable to stop the beam from spreading across your lips, you hid your face in your hands. Gosh— Did he have to be so cute? He was making it harder and harder to only like him as a friend. And even now, you weren’t sure if you liked him only as a friend.

But you pushed those thoughts away.

That was something to deal with at a later time.

When you reached the train station you normally took home, you turned to Shouto, giving him a big hug. He was tall and warm. You could feel his lean muscles through his button-down shirt as you rested your head against his chest and arms around his waist. 

“Thanks for today,” you mumbled. “I’ll see you again soon.”

After a pause, he gave you a hug back, hands rubbing hesitant circles on your back in a way that made you smile. “Text me when you get home safe,” he said as you both reluctantly released each other from an embrace.

“I will,” you promised. “You do the same! Later, Shouto!” 

And with that, you waved goodbye and boarded the train, unable to shake the unwavering grin on your face all the way home.

a/n: when shouto started feeding y/n spoonfuls of his ice cream i cried (Ｔ▽Ｔ) that’s so cUTE OF HIM LIKE PLS SIR STOP BEFORE I FALL MORE IN LOVE WITH U !! >:O he’s such a sweetheart ahhhh,, i hope all the fluff made up for the brief appearance of endeavor ಠ╭╮ಠ  FHDJKF 

what to expect in the next part:

shopping for the gala time !! 

y/n struggles with their fEeLiNGs~ part 2

oh my, y/n has to try on dresses? oh my, it’d be a shame if they needed help putting it on :o *fake gasp* 

yeah things get just a lil steamy but shh

[harmoni-me]

hi! wanted to tell you that i absolutely love your writing skills, it’s so different from the others that i've read and it makes me feel so warm inside. keep up the good work! i'm really looking forward to seeing more

if you don’t mind, i'd like to request for a poly nagito x sweetheart reader x kokichi where they’re still in the crushing/pining stage and being confused about their sexuality. thank you, have a good day/night!💙

Phew! I finally did it! My fingers kinda hurt from typing all this haha! But I loved the request a lot! I played around with the concept you gave me as well, so it’s a story that branches out into multiple styles of writing. I do have to warn you though, goodness is this one long! But I hope you enjoy it all in the same! <3

I’m so sleepy lol 

quick trigger warning beware! : There is a scene in this where a character goes through mental hysteria that contains some panic attack like symptoms. If you are sensitive to that writing, please, skip the the fluffy scene that if used for comfort right after :) (Or just don’t read it at all, don’t worry! Harmoni understands!)

Nagito Komaeda x Sweetheart Reader x Kokichi Ouma! Pt. 1

Also can we just talk about this gif? It makes me so happy...This artist is so good too like WHOA! Check them out! 

“No…“

“1, 2, 3, 4-“

“NO-“

“5, 6, 7, 8!” Nagito finished, moving the silver, dog-shaped play piece across the board in rhythmic taps.

“NOOOO! BOARDWALK, NAGITO?! FUCKING BOARDWALK?!” Kokichi shrieked in a fit of rage, slamming his Panta drink onto the table, while standing up and causing an absolute fit.

Nagito was chuckling at the enraged boy, who was now standing on the kitchen counters, stomping in pure fury. Kokichi was a huge brat. A clingy, competitive, always-begging-for-something, whole-hearted brat. Though, Nagito would have to admit that he could never stay mad at Kokichi, in fact, he would have to say that he barely gets mad at him. Ever. He reminded the white-haired boy of a playful puppy, bounding and bucking happily when getting what it wants. It made Nagito’s heart melt, evaporate, then simply melt again, even when he was a cursing mess stomping on the granite countertops, getting scratches all over it.

“Woah! Nagi, that’s amazing! You got Boardwalk really early in the game, that’s so cool!” You smiled, while also laughing at Kokichi’s ferocious cursing as ambiance. Your smile drove Nagito’s attention away from the angered boy, and his heart went through overdrive once he saw your sweet smile, radiating so much contagious joy. It’s almost as if he was on a roller coaster that contained a different track each and every time he rode it. One minute, his heart would be doing loops, and the next, it excitedly go up again.

. . .

Now, this is where the problem begins. Well, the one of three problems that plague the three individuals all playing a simple game of Monopoly on a Sunday night. This is Nagito’s problem: Whenever he has an effect on Kokichi, making him oh-so-lovable in his eyes, his heart swells and fills his chest to the brim. Oh, was this feeling that was so incredibly foreign to him feel so wonderful when it dawned upon him for the first time.

Nagito could always draw the memory back within his vision in surreal detail. Kokichi and Nagito were loitering in the hallways of Hope’s peak, with the shorter purple-haired boy dragging the pale, frizzy haired boy by the hand to apparently “Conjure up the biggest most awesome-est prank Hope’s Peak has every witnesses since built into existence”. Honestly, how could Nagito say no to something that holds so much potential hope and despair, all contained in one big gift-wrapped surprise of a prank on the whole school?

After planning for a few hours, Kokichi seemed to have a fuse broken in his brain due to thinking about a truly fool-proof plan. The somewhat drowsy prankster reached into his schoolbag and pulled out two twin bottles of grape Panta, sliding one over to an unsuspecting Nagito. The purple plastic bottle bonked into Nagito’s forearm, knocking the bottle down from the force.

“Nehehe, I guess you really are the Ultimate Lucky student, huh? It just so happens I packed an extra today, Shamrock! Make it up to me sometime soon, okaaaaay?” Kokichi giggled, teasing the lanky, somewhat socially-awkward Nagito who was sitting across from him on a desk within a totally abandoned classroom. Nagito thanked the other, though, Kokichi really couldn’t respond due to being in the middle of chugging his favorite carbonated drink.

Nagito turn to his own bottle. He wasn’t the biggest fan of old-fashioned artificial grape flavored things, but it wasn’t the worst. Plus, it would be quite rude to refuse a drink from a friend, right? So the white haired boy simply picked up the bottle, and twisted the cap off, as per usual etiquette of opening a soda bottle.

Splash

It didn’t take too long until Nagito knew what was going on. The drink had exploded everywhere. The bottle of soda was basically empty by the end of the grape-geyser showcase, and poor Nagito was left drenched in purple, sticky, sugary liquid. The drink already was starting to dry into a thin, sweet crust on his skin, making the boy on a whole other level of uncomfortable. Though, it was kind of expected that Kokichi would be absolutely laughing his butt off in the moment, sounding like some sort of hysteric hyena mixed with a duckling quacking at some breadcrumbs. It was a laughable sight, no doubt, Nagito literally looked like the embodiment of a sad, wet dog.

But then Kokichi settled down after a bit, controlling his breathing from the pathetic sight. After doing so, he got up out of his seat, and knelt down to scrummage through his bag, revealing a regular branded water bottle. He then made his way over to Nagito, and without hesitation, sat himself on his soda-soaked lap.

“Aww, really going for that kicked puppy look, are you now? Well, since I’ve had all my laughing fun from this, I guess it’s only natural that I help you out, hm? Or would you rather just stay just like this? Oh, now, I wouldn’t mind it if we did…though it seems your eyes beg to differ…well in that case, let’s clean you up, shall we?” Kokichi hummed, teasing the ever living daylights out of the wet and miserable boy.

Kokichi then did something that made Nagito’s heart pound harder than it ever had before. The teasing boy reached behind his neck, untying his beloved checkered bandana. He then carefully opened the water bottle, and poured the contents onto the fabric. Once ensuring it was thoroughly soaked, Kokichi started to wash off as much of the stickiness he could. to Ruffling Nagito’s hair, from gently washing his pale cheeks, which were now sprinkled with specks of rose, and finally gliding the cloth along Nagito’s clothes and hands.

A few things in Nagito’s mind had clicked into place after Kokichi had handled him with the care equal to that of a lover. Well, ironically, Nagito had caught feelings for his tiny little prankster brat of a friend. Was it a huge surprise? Not really, based on the track that Nagito was on.

Another piece of the puzzle had snapped: Kokichi was a a guy. That was something really to think about. Never had Nagito found men attractive, but…

Finally, the last, and most worrying puzzle piece out of them all: Kokichi wasn’t the only one he has fell for. His heart has become torn in that moment, with every day becoming more of a wrestling match to the death rather than a silly tug-of-war between feelings. The other side of his heart was unsure, and fell for another person that had lifted him up through his lowest lows, supporting him like a much needed pair of crutches when having a sprained ankle.

And that person, was you.

. . .

“Ok ok ok ok ok! Listen here you little damn shamrock you!” Kokichi huffed, now sitting back on the ground, leg crossed, “You and I both know that I have Park Place, right? Right! Now, my dear little clover, I want to make a deal with you, if you will?” Kokichi smirked with evil intent clear within his irises.

“Ooo! Deals! Nagi, I think you should listen to Kichi, making profitable partnerships is pretty much his specialty.” You giggled, basically becoming Kokichi’s personal little advocate. He let out a quick “Yeah, what she said!”, causing Nagito to laugh and nod, gesturing for an explanation of the deal.

“Well, personally, my little clover, I feel like we should team up, you know? We could completely dominate over sweet our little gumdrop over there, making them drop to their knees in submission to us. You know, I have a feeling you and I both would enjoy it...” Kokichi shuffled a little closer to the platinum blonde, voice dropping, “We could rule them over together, as equals, or even make them surrender if they ever have the chance-“

“Sure! Though, you should probably get out of jail first.” Nagito chuckled, making the other boy grumble.

“OH YOU-“

“Heeeeey! I wanna join in too! It sounds like you guys are having fun and stuff, while I’m all alone…” You puffed out your cheeks, sadness dripping in your voice.

Both of the boys shot up to look at your somewhat downcast features, and oh, how it wreaked their hearts in one fell swoop.

Kokichi automatically shot up from his position, puffing out his chest in preparation for a new speech.

“O-ok! New deal! We ALL join evil forces TOGETHER, and absolutely destroy the game with all of our property, while reaping in the greedy rewards of the capitalist regime!” Kokichi loudly proclaimed, chuckling at the end of his new deal.

You gasped, “Deal! Deal! Taking over a money-based board game with my two favorite people ever will always be a yes for me!” You laughed, smiling at the thought of the three of you taking over Hollywood streets with a pose of limos, while using bags stuffed with pure cash as weapons made it ten times funnier.

Kokichi smiled, resting his hands behind his head, “Yeah! Let’s end it here and just say that we kicked so much millionaire ass that we now have control over the whole economy!”

. . .

This is the second problem, Kokichi is so undeniably confused. About what? About himself. He was sure as all hell about how he felt about you, he always went soft and squishy for you, and not to mention he would be extra clingy when it had to do with you. Headpats? Common, and always appreciated. Cuddles? Been there, done that with you.

But, then there was Nagito. Kokichi would never say this out loud, but he thought that Nagito was so…pretty. And god, Kokichi was a huge sucker for pretty people. Though, once he realized that his feelings didn’t go to just one person, that’s when he started to panic.

He had to take in multiple things at once, trying to accept it all at once, but it was just so incredibly difficult. He has spent the whole entirety of his life to perfect the art of lying, and one thing that he learned constantly manipulated his own mind and thought process, tearing it into metaphorical shreds.

In order to pull out a lie that everyone can believe, you have to lie to yourself, and proclaim your own illusion of your truth.

Did Kokichi want to believe he was immensely attracted to Nagito, who just happened to be a guy? No, he really didn’t. It wasn’t normal.

Did Kokichi want to believe that he had fallen so fucking in love with two of his closest friends? Hell no. In society, you had to pick and choose, it’s one or the god damn other.

Right?

One night, all of these feeling and thoughts rushed into the boy’s conscious all at once, building immense pressure within his head and chest. Was this a nightmare, or-

Suddenly, his throat started to close up on him, making him gasp out in agony, wheezing on the covers of his bed, tears brimming at the corners of his eyes.

Instinct kicked in within the speed of light. Kokichi shakily reached over to his phone, grasping onto it, and quickly set up a group call. Almost immediately, the two people he was panicking over had picked up.

“Hello? Kokichi? Is there anything you need?” A raspy voice rang out. It seems as if Nagito was awoken by the sudden calling.

“Yeah, Kichi? Is there anything wrong?” You softly spoke through the phone. It calmed Kokichi a little just hearing the two of you guy so worried over him.

“I-I know It’s out of the blue-“ Kokichi gasped for air “B-but can you guys please come over?”

And oh boy, did you and Nagito get there in record time.

After just a mere ten minutes, you and Nagito were outside of Kokichi’s bedroom door, and the both of you could hear the desperate hiccups and gasps of your poor friend.

The both of you had no doubts, nor questions. You just wanted the struggling boy to feel safe.

“We’re coming in.” You said, affirming your actions with light knocking on the bedroom door.

When the both of you came face to face with a Kokichi with puffy red eyes, clutching his heaving chest, and thick tears rolling down his face, it felt like the both of you just got shot in the heart, the weight of it sinking down into the stomach, emitting a feeling that could only be described as pure pity. But the two of you automatically got to work.

Sooner rather than later, You and Nagito were cuddling Kokichi from either side, supporting him, as well as being his shield for protecting his small, delicate frame from his own cruel thoughts. You had started to run your fingers through Kokichi’s hair, causing his breaths to become fuller, and not nearly as hitched. Nagito also wanted to contribute in his own way, so he decided to mindlessly draw messy shapes and squiggles into Kokichi’s side, hoping that what he was doing would be of any help.

After only a mere five minutes, Kokichi had passed out from exhaustion, but the two of you kept on doing what you were doing, wanting for the boy in-between you two to have sweet dreams about all of what he desires all night long.

Kokichi has never let go of that memory, and never will for the rest of his life, and it’s a constant reminder on how much he had lied to himself. He actually wanted the truth out of something for once in his life, and that was how long it would be in order for the loves of his life to live without restraint of societal chains. Whenever it was, he would always be ready. Always, with arms as open as the horizon.

. . .

“Why in the world are we watching Big Hero 6 again? Didn’t we watch this, like, a month ago?” Kokichi trudged from the microwave, to the plush couch, bowl of buttered popcorn in hand.

“(Y/N) wanted to watch it, is there a problem?” Nagito tilted his head, holding the remote, about to press play. You were bouncing in anticipation, because this movie was just never a disappointment.

“Hm, well, I GUESS there’s nothing wrong with it….just don’t be surprised when you hear me snoring.” Kokichi huddled up beside you, placing the bowl of popcorn on you lap.

“I deem you the popcorn peacemaker! Your job is to make sure no one’s being a pig.” Kokichi snickered, while you giggled at your new role in life.

“Nagi? You like popcorn, right? Here!” You placed the bowl on his lap, causing him to smile.

“Hey, HEY! NO! That means I have to reach my WHOLE ARM over to to Lucky boy, JUST SO I CAN GET SOME POPCO-“

“Sh sh sh! The movie is starting!” You giggled, shushing the purple haired boy, while you heard a little chuckle from the white haired boy who was next to you.

. . .

The last problem was you. Your heart bubbled up in joy whenever you where around these boys, making your face erupt like a volcano whenever something slightly suggestive is aimed at you when it has to do with either one of them. You liked both of them, a lot, and you gave everything in order for the three of you to flourish in bountiful friendship. Yeah, that’s the problem, it was friendship.

Oh, how desperately you wished that everything could be easy! If life were like an infinite rolling of crashing waves, things would be flawless, predictable even. Unfortunately, life really likes to give you the short end of the stick, and this was honestly one of the shortest sticks someone like you would have never asked for. The loving of two men, both equally, and having an intense desire to treat them as lovers. What would they do as lovers? Where would they go as lovers? The questions and possibilities are endless…

The only time where you felt as if the friendship could’ve resembled anything somewhat romantic, was a summer evening trip to the beach.

The water was the perfect temperature, the ocean was as clear as glass, and the sand didn’t burn the soles of your feet. The boy’s were in their swimming trunks, having their own little fun. Nagito was afraid of getting to deep into the ocean, so you always stayed in the shallow end, trying to capture as many tiny fishes as you could with your bare hands.

Kokichi insisted that him and Nagito bury you in sand, leaving your head poking out of a sandy little cocoon. When the sun started to set, you got some supplies that you brought, and lit the fire that the group planned to create. Everyone gathered around it, cooking hot dogs on sticks, and crafting tasty s’mores that we fed each other.

One could say that that night might be the most casual and platonic friend trip ever, but something was off.

Everyone looked at each other differently that night. When looking into their eyes, it was oddly intimate. It was like all of the stars in the night sky reflected off their eyes conveyed so much...love.

That night, you felt so adored, so cherished and cultivated to the brim of your existence. You felt something, and maybe the other boy’s did too, but that feeling has changed your life.

Thanks to these stupid boys; These stupid boys that you’ve given so much to, you don’t think you could ever love any other.

One you’ve helped get out of a terrible degradation cycle, another you’ve helped to not lie to himself, and not as much to others.

And thanks to your down to earth humility, your heart has been stolen, and it was going to stay taken by those lovely, unique boys who have helped you out of so many ditches, and so many of life’s cracks and dents. God, how could you not fall?

Their lives were precious to you, but you had no idea how they would feel about an actual relationship, so you’ve always been terrified. Petrified and paralyzed to the bone to ever think of what may happen if you were the cause of the fracture of the friendship. You didn’t want to ruin something that has taken so long to build, yet can be torn all down due to a selfish desire.

But, maybe, just maybe, if they went to you first, confessed everything that was bottled up inside, dittoed on how you felt…

Then you might just be the luckiest person to live on this earth, there’s no doubt about that.

[seyaryminamoto]

my school works are piled up this past few weeks (graduating tingz) and i just started reading the deadlock novel it feels like i'm reading a sokkla fic every time Mcashe has a scene because they just give off the vibes skskskskksksks. BTW, what's your top5 fav scenes from the novel? PS: I'm smiling like an idiot while reading the novel ughh i hate myself

I KNOW, RIIIIIGHT?! *-* and don't hate yourself, my anon friend, I spent the whole novel smiling and laughing and losing my goddamn mind because I was having the time of my life xD enjoy this beautiful content as best you can!

I mean, frankly, Reunion already had all the Sokkla vibes I could've wanted/needed to ship these two like FedEx and I always knew I wasn't getting off this ride anytime soon. But gosh, this book... it gave me everything I wanted and MORE! Their dynamics are soooo similar to Sokkla team-up dynamics, two power couples kicking ass and taking names... oh, I just love it so much. I probably will end up reading the book a third time soon x'D

As for my favorite scenes, damn, this is tricky xD

KEYCHAIN! HE MADE HER KEYCHAIN!! THIS IS NOT A DRILL!!! God, it's just amazing how the book explains the "vintage" look for Ashe's hoverbike the way it does, and that they literally built it together *screams!!!*, but then he gives her that keychain for her birthday present, and the implications!! THE IMPLICATIONS!!! He gave her a keychain she's held onto for TWENTY YEARS?!?!?! Ships in the OW fandom have sailed far and wide with less than breadcrumbs: we literally have been granted a boon from the GODS with all this extra context for the little things in Reunion xD

Ashe going to hell and back to save her kidnapped BFF-for-whom-she-totally-doesn't-have-feelings-yeah-yeah-sure-Jan. I love the fact that McCree is, in a way, Ashe's damsel in distress and not the other way around xD Of course, it's what you'd expect from an Ashe-centric story, but it's still an amazing sequence, all around. Gotta highlight how she loves the way he smiles like a madman when they have that shootout at the end, and how he worries so much over Ashe's injury when he took an even worse one than she did (the Sokkla vibes in that particular situation were SO STRONG! I SWEAR!).

"Jesse McCree, are you trying to make me say you're handsome?" "Am I?" ... do I need to say more. That FLIRTING. These two were on fire already and they'd only known each other for like... weeks, at this point? x'D He has no sense of moderation, he's soooo into her and doesn't hide it at all. Ashe is so busy trying to plot all the crime and Jesse's practically like a shojo heroine, "oh I can feel it, this is how my love story begins!", basically xD

Finally I pick a not-McAshe scene... to bring up the one where Ashe picks up the Viper on her last moment in Lead Rose Manor. That moment was just... POWERFUL. The feeling of epicness in that scene just overwhelmed me when I was reading it xD

The ending of the book :'D the fully formed Deadlock Gang ready for business, down to the explanation for the Est. 1976 in the logo... *sobs* the fact that so much about the character design choices in these two characters is a shoutout to the past they share is just... *gross sobbing* oh, I just love it to pieces, I'm not even sorry.

Ashe's bike race to save B.O.B. x'D that whole situation was bonkers but I looooved how fierce she was about protecting her one and only buddy while growing up (AND THAT JESSE BLUSHED WHEN SHE TAUNTED HIM WAS JUST THE CHERRY ON TOP!). I appreciated learning more about the Omnic War and its consequences, how Ashe reflects on having escaped it practically untouched in virtue of her money and societal privilege while her new friends all faced many hardships to survive. But I can't help but also love that, however uneasy others could have been about the Best Omnic Butler, Ashe was so fiercely loyal to B.O.B. that she nearly broke Julian's nose herself over his ridiculousness x'D That's HER big omnic buddy and she's not about to lose him to anyone, not her shitty parents, not a bet in a race, NOTHING! (and it's so cute that B.O.B. is just as loyal to her, too *sobs*)

Ashe grabbing McCree's arm to explain things to him on their first heist and him being all "you gonna leave that there?" and only then does she realize her hand's still on him x'D what a McCree line, and he was absolutely enjoying the attention, he doesn't even pretend otherwise.

Everything poetic McCree says or does... meanwhile Ashe's like "um yeah I don't care about poetry I want money", right until his poet soul totally smashes her square in the heart with the KEYCHAIN!!! But damn, I swear I thought McCree would hold back a lot more, and yet there he was, saying things like Calamity was brilliant and mysterious... you could practically hear B.O.B., Julian and Frankie going "I can see what's happening..." in the background xD

The conversation about what they wanted to do once they were loaded with all the cash they could possibly want. That one was a real number on my heartstrings. It ties up to what I said earlier with Ashe finally being in touch with people who are completely removed from the ridiculous social circles of her parents and her school, people who really lost a lot in the war. But where Julian and Frankie seem to look at the past a lot, I loved that Jesse is basically just thinking about the future. The fact that he says he wants to chill out in a farm and that this is what he wants in life... many, MANY, shippy wheels have turned in my head since I read that <.< maaaany...

WHEN JESSE NEARLY FALLS AND ASHE CATCHES HIM!!! UNDERRRATED AS HECK!!! The fact that he's taunting her about fear of heights, then he nearly plummets to his death because ironies are beautiful xD and Ashe pulls him back to safety only to say that she's not afraid of heights but afraid of ~FALLING~??? I mean, okay, sure, maybe I'm reading too much into that line... or maybe I'm not <.< either way, the truth is I just love how absolutely broad of interpretation that scene and that DIALOGUE are :> ehehehe.

Oh, their first encounter. The fact that it's so cute and fun, and that it's this low in the list tells you how GOOD this book was x'D "You've got an awful lot of grit for a rich girl," first words he spoke to the love of his life xD then how they talked and laughed together about the crazy stories he shared (she was crying of laughter for the first time in her life! precious girl!), and then how she sat in the car thinking about the strange feeling she was left with after meeting him... they seriously had a meetcute in prison, how can a ship get any better? xD

WHEN HE COMES BACK TO HER WHEN THEIR FIRST HEIST GOES WRONG!!! That Ashe expects him to just leave after she falls off their getaway vehicle, but Jesse saves her and goes "pfft that's just not my style", basically... *sobs* without realizing it she ends up picking up that particular philosophy of his, saving her friends no matter the cost...! Honestly, though, the fact that every time something like this happens it hits Ashe like a truck racing downhill with no brakes because she's NEVER been cared about by anyone but B.O.B. and she's completely new to friendships and bonding with people... and in the mean time, Jesse immediately is "ride or die" with her because that's how he rolls... beautiful relationship dynamics between characters who influence each other for the better are just beautiful :')

A silly one here: Jesse enjoying the good life in Lead Rose. That description of him looking like a marshmallow in the CHAISE LOUNGEEEEE!!! (the one he references in their in-game interactions *CRYING SO MANY TEARS*), was just too cute to bear x'D Ashe just jumping back into work mode... while he was just thrilled to be a marshmallow in a towel xD

... So, um, I went overboard because I love this book a little too much for my own good :> what can I say? When things I love are good, I go wild xD There's probably more scenes I loved, but these... thirteen? XD are the ones that came to mind.

I think one of my favorite things now is reexamining Reunion with all this extra context in mind. The first time I watched that cinematic I, of course, fell in love with these two outlaws because how could I not? But while subsequent rewatches revealed a lot of things I didn't pay enough attention to the first time around, the book has done even more than I could imagine possible for a short that was already as shippy as could be xD

Ooookay so, shippy ramblings about Reunion, coming up! (simply because I have to put these down SOMEWHERE XD and your ask was a good idea for that, anon!)

First off, Jesse very much staged the whole rodeo in Reunion. He sent the tip to Ashe, he wanted Echo's crate specifically. He thought they could work together, basically, despite knowing it was entirely possible that those hopes wouldn't pay off. This train, according to the wikia, was a government train, so Jesse is very much telling Ashe to give a finger to the government for all he cares, all he wants is one (1) crate.

Ergo, Jesse, for all his "nice guy bountyhunter" deal, doesn't disapprove of Deadlock's actions. If anything, he counts on them to be exactly what he needs in order to get what he wants. He practically trusts Ashe to pull off the train heist disaster perfectly and only steps up when it's time to collect Echo.

Then the wacky shoot-out happens, it's veeeery charged (the UST is so thick, I swear...), and Jesse wins. He ties up Ashe, floats her off on the payload with the rest of the gang, and he sets Echo free. He's helping her out very nicely and everything, but the context in question is... he received the recall notification thingy XD Winston called him back to Overwatch, and Jesse...

... Jesse doesn't want to go back.

Jesse says "they want me", and the displeased tone of his voice, paired with the look on his face when he says that line, speak for themselves.

That, in my humble opinion, isn't the sequence of expressions you'd expect from someone who intends to return to the group where he thrived, had the time of his life and found his true calling. To me, he actually looks irritated about the recall (the sequence of expressions during that line is much better when you watch the full thing x'D), as though he REALLY doesn't want to return. He's not against Overwatch, I'm not quite saying that, otherwise he wouldn't have set Echo free and told her to go back at all... but this isn't remorse. It's not "Oh, I'm not good enough for Overwatch anymore". Nope... this is "My time with them is over and I don't plan on going back unless I have no choice", as far as I can tell.

If OW2 does bring him back into the fold and he's a perfectly chill and happy guy about it, I'll seriously be surprised. I mean, he could have set Echo free and, once his business is over, returned to Overwatch with her, he could have been in the Paris cinematic if he'd done that...

But he's not there.

Which outright says he didn't do that :> oops.

Basically, I think Jesse's reaction in Retribution (where he's markedly the most morally correct one of the bunch, and he's the former outlaw :'D) tells you his displeasure with Overwatch ran very, very deep. And someone can very easily say he felt the same way about Deadlock and that's why he left them for Overwatch... but that's conjecture. His displeasure with Blackwatch (and, in consequence, Overwatch), however, is FACT. And the previous conjecture falls flat pretty quickly considering he's perfectly fine with Ashe's train heist, even sets it up himself, from what the story suggests, so... how ~appalled~ was he over her choices and actions? Not appalled at all, if you ask me, and after you read Deadlock Rebels, you actually understand why: Jesse trusts Ashe.

From the first moment she enters the same prison block he's in, he's drawn to her. He wants to impress her, he absolutely enjoys her company and making her laugh (just as much as she enjoyed laughing at his wacky stories), and he's plain thrilled that she comes back for him when she does. Ashe manages the gang with inexperience but she's always willing to improve, and you see Jesse sticking with her through thick and thin, supporting her at the best and worst times alike, always putting his faith on her and constantly watching out for her (he protected and shielded her from attacks with his own body sooooo many times *sobs*). Ashe starts out intending to keep most profits for herself, and Jesse doesn't care much at first... but then she starts to share profit equally between their team. She works on her own bike herself, her own ride, and she plans and solves problems as best she can, to a point of even going overboard with planning too much. She's wild, reckless and takes insane risks... and this guy loves every second of it. The matter of morality regarding the actions of a criminal gang is, of course, something to think about... but as far as the book goes, Ashe mainly targets her own family, their specific brand of bullshit, and in the process she ends up helping lots of people and even saving lives that might not have been saved otherwise. I'm not going to put my hand on the fire here and say Deadlock never ever did anything absolutely wrong to people who didn't deserve it... but for a criminal gang? They're honestly the most wholesome one the OW team could have come up with, if you ask me.

So where you see Jesse is very much antagonistic with Reaper/Reyes, where he loses his temper with the guy's choices, he doesn't ever do that with Ashe. Overwatch ARE supposed to be the good guys... so how weird that Jesse McCree, reformed outlaw, ends up so disappointed with these guys when he was actually thrilled with Ashe's managing of their gang, as far as we saw. So much so that, when it came down to it, Jesse McCree, 20 years later, still counts on Ashe to give him a hand (without her full awareness) with a little operation to help out an old friend of his. Also worth pointing out: he doesn't want to fight at all, while Ashe, of course, does. Deadlock for life, is what Jesse said... and he's not Deadlock anymore, hasn't been for who knows how long. Worse yet... his tattooed arm is gone. It's like all his ties to Deadlock have been severed.

And even so, he came to Ashe and hoped she wouldn't want a shootout with him. Even when he knows she might be beyond unforgiving because of the betrayal (he has seen directly how outraged she was about a certain someone betraying her in the book...), Jesse goes back anyway and hopes it won't come to this.

THE IMPLICATIONS, MAN!!!

Carrying on: Echo is surprised that Jesse shows no intentions of going back to Overwatch. She asks him what he's going to do... and what does Jesse say?

He puts his cowboy hat back on (the symbolism in this short, I swear...), and when she asks him what he's going to do, he tells her "I've got some business to attend to."

THE MUSIC PICKS UP.

AND THEN HE CLIMBS ON THE BIKE HE BUILT WITH ASHE.

YOU GET A DELIBERATE CLOSE-UP TO THE KEYCHAIN.

THEN THE CAMERA PANS UP TO FOCUS ON THE PICTURE, TORN AND TAPED BACK TOGETHER, THAT ASHE CARRIES ON THIS BIKE, A BIKE WHICH, LET'S BE REAL, IS BASICALLY A MCASHE BABY CHOPPER/HOVERBIKE HYBRID, AND AS SHE PUTS IT LATER, IS...

HER

BIKE!!!

When Jesse says he has business to attend to, he could pick up any bike he wants (since it'd stand to reason that the other guys Ashe came in with would have bikes of their own). He could escape on horseback for all we know xD so there are lots of options... but no. He takes HERS. Right after saying he has "business to attend to".

Look, I could be wrong. I could be dead wrong. I can absolutely be digging around and going INSANE because nothing I ship EVER gets this much content.

But we literally get a guy saying he has "business" to take care of, and the cinematic focuses exclusively on elements that, even BEFORE Deadlock Rebels, all point towards Ashe?! You could easily say that taking her bike is just the final nail on the coffin, his last trolling idea to mess with his one true love... but that picture is right there. That picture, with them in their youth. The picture, btw, was bigger than just them: B.O.B.'s hand is there. The top of the picture is uneven, suggesting Ashe probably tore it to shreds in a fit of rage... and then specifically put together THEIR PART. And then she taped that to her bike's dashboard. Meaning, she carries the goddamn memory of Jesse with her EVERYWHERE SHE GOES. And she does it WILLINGLY.

Which, in turn, answers why Jesse expects MAYBE Ashe wouldn't go full-on hostile when they meet: this trolling cowboy knows exactly what he means to Ashe. He's not surprised when he sees that picture on the bike. He doesn't toss it away, which he could have, if he were saying "we are history now, forget it gurl" (and let's be honest, what a dick move that would have been @_@), he doesn't flinch after noticing and then goes "yeah, no, I'm picking another bike".

NOPE. The familiarity with which they talk, the way he hopes she'll just let him walk away, the fact that she DIDN'T change the keychain and bike in all those years and he's not even SURPRISED...

Jesse knows how much she loves him, point-blank. He's completely aware of it... and he's very much okay with it.

So much so... that I'm something of a 90% sure that the business he intends to deal with is ASHE HERSELF.

And no, I don't mean he's going to go on another shootout with her... I mean, evidently, that Jesse wants to come home. That he's tried the life of Overwatch, and he's decided to leave it behind. He's turned bountyhunter now, vigilante, pretty much... but he comes back to Ashe all the same. He's come back for the first time in who knows how long (going by Ashe's expressions and sarcasm with the "you promised you'd write" line, it miiiiiiight be they haven't seen each other since he got recruited into Blackwatch), and he expected a peaceful encounter, no less.

A good question to ask here is... what did Jesse hope would happen, if the encounter HAD been peaceful? He would've released Echo, sent her away to her business, and stayed behind anyway because he had business to deal with. Which business? :'D why... the business that would've been standing right in front of him.

There's no other, logical reason why this cinematic would put Ashe and McCree's picture into focus right when McCree says what he does to Echo. There's no other reasonable choice why McCree would turn his back on Overwatch quite so firmly. We know he had two important ties in his life: Overwatch and Deadlock. And Overwatch stole him away from Deadlock for a VERY long time. Well over half the time Deadlock has been in operations, as far as I can tell. He picked Overwatch over Deadlock once before... and now, it seems he's picking Deadlock over Overwatch instead :')

The follow-up short, Roadtrip, doesn't do anything to change my mind. The trolling jerk, Jesse McCree, hovers past Ashe's payload, where she's just... complaining, as she hovers xD going by what I know of the game and that map, the payload may just be en route to the gang's hideout, so that, I'd say, could explain why she hasn't climbed off it or escaped in any way (which she reasonably would have, if Jesse was trying to, I don't know, send her and her people to the authorities).

My point here is, however, that Jesse is headed the same way the payload is. If his destination is the same one, he'll beat it there for sure. Maybe, yes, he'll go away and drive well past the hideout... but maybe that's exactly where he intended to go.

Maybe, in the end, Reunion is about a man who's finally coming home :D

In addition, goes without saying, Ashe's rant about how everyone falls to pieces over Jesse showing his "stupid mug" (uh-huh, stupid, ANGELIC mug, we know what you really think, girl xD) ends with her saying she should have "put a bullet in him the minute he showed up".

Which begs the question of why didn't she.

Then, of course, she says she hates McCree when he drives past her while listening to some really ridiculous honky-tonky-sounding music x'D I cannot even help but imagine him deliberately picking that radio station or whatever it was just to annoy Ashe when he drove beside her, and so that she can get extra pissed when she retrieves her beloved bike, turns on the music and it's just more honky-tonky stuff x'D but anyway, the thing is she shouts after him, tells him that's her bike and says she hates him. B.O.B. wordlessly speaks for us McAshe shippers by giving Ashe the most "sure, Jan" side-eye in the history of side-eyes, and Ashe notices and is outraged enough to knock B.O.B.'s little hat right off his head again.

Again... this is renowned outlaw Elizabeth Caledonia "Calamity" Ashe, sitting on a payload, groaning about the guy she once very much had feelings for (and that doesn't even begin to cut it, if you ask me x'D) and for whom she tooooootally doesn't anymore, that picture on her bike doesn't MEAN that, OBVIOUSLYYYY!!, and so, she sits up, complains and doesn't do much of anything to get out of her current situation, right? :>

So, summing up my current understanding of EVERYTHING, thanks to Deadlock Rebels and my obsessive rewatches of Reunion + Roadtrip:

Jesse deliberately sought out Ashe so she would indirectly, unknowingly, help him set Echo free from the government's clutches.

Jesse hoped for a peaceful encounter despite knowing he might not get one.

Jesse has no intentions of returning to Overwatch but was willing to perform one final act of service for them by releasing Echo so she'd go give Winston and co. a hand.

Jesse is NOT surprised to see that Ashe: 1. Didn't change bikes at some point in the twenty years since they built it. 2. Didn't swap the ignition key for a button, the way she says she thought to do it in the novel until he gives her the keychain. 3. KEPT THE POETIC AF KEYCHAIN, despite resenting Jesse for his betrayal. 4. KEEPS A PICTURE OF THEM IN THEIR YOUNGER YEARS PASTED ON HER BIKE'S DASHBOARD.

Jesse claims he has business to deal with: he doesn't clarify said business verbally, but every shot after he says those words focuses on elements related to Ashe... and then, along with the novel's context, it's elements related to their BOND. Everything in that shot, EVERYTHING, is connected to the two of them. Elements that weren't shown before or during their shootout, and that are only introduced in that final moment when McCree is off to deal with his "business".

Ashe doesn't climb off the payload or stops it (which, going by how McCree simply pressed a button, and Ashe isn't immobilized in the least, she easily could have done it too if she had wanted to). Suggesting that, wherever the payload is heading, it isn't anywhere dangerous for Ashe and her crew, ergo, she is 100% sure McCree isn't trying to screw her over by turning her in to the authorities or so (or, at worst, she's completely confident that, even if he is going to do this, she'll be able to get out of it easily).

Jesse drives in the same direction the payload is headed. Another hint that suggests he might intend to head to the Deadlock hideout and that, whatever business he has left to deal with, it involves them.

If his intent ISN'T to go to the hideout... Jesse is still guaranteeing that Ashe will come after him by stealing her bike, the 18th birthday gift he gave her, and the picture she keeps of them. That he takes that very bike practically serves as painting a target on his back for her to hunt down, and he KNOWS IT.

In short: Jesse will have plenty of business with the Deadlock Gang in his future, and going by how pleased he seems to be when riding the bike, he's perfectly happy to handle that business on his terms, whenever he wants to handle it.

Extra tidbit: there's nothing in Deadlock Rebels about Jesse's smoking habit, something he definitely did pick up at some point while in the gang because, hahaha, he IS smoking in the picture Ashe keeps of him :> Which makes me wonder why, of all pictures Ashe chooses to keep on her bike's dashboard, she picks one where he's smoking.

Then, it makes me wonder about the fact that Jesse deliberately starts smoking when he's standing right in front of her (and then he winks at her!). He tosses that cigar after things get kind of dangerous for him because B.O.B. does something, and then... then he goes back to smoking.

RIGHT WHEN HE'S CLIMBING ON THE BIKE.

Like... seriously...

*unintelligible fangirl screaming*

I could be looking too deeply into this. I know I could be. Maybe Blizzard just wants me to go CRAZY with little symbolism and hints charged with SO MUCH MEANING that maybe don't have as much meaning as I thought it did...

... But man, I've sailed into the depths of the shippiest oceans for many ships that have gotten actual breadcrumbs from canon. I've gone wild over ships that have zero opportunity to become a thing in canon continuity. I've written a nearly 3M words story based on a ship that is just UNEXPLORED AMAZING POTENTIAL and ngl, I love exploring it myself, so I don't even begrudge canon that much for not giving it to me anymore.

But the fact is, no ship in OW, as far as I've seen, has remotely as much content, hints and strong ties as McAshe does -- at least, no ships between heroes. We had a cinematic that was CHARGED with significance, with little gestures, with even the smallest facial expressions that carried soooo much more meaning than whole episodes or even seasons in TV shows. And then? We got a novel. A full novel depicting their origins and exploring their dynamics, how tight their friendship was, and how some strong feelings were certainly brewing there, even if neither one was ready to act on them yet (as far as we saw...).

Finally... I'll say I did start working on a Sokkla Western AU ages ago because the idea I had for one was pretty amusing. Then Reunion dropped, and I said "Why would I need to finish that story anymore when the Sokkla Western AU is RIGHT HERE?!"

And that's it, I will stop rambling now because this got insanely long x'D but thank you very very much for giving me this chance to go WILD on everything I can see, within all those canon hints, with these two *-*

[iamdeku]

Friday (I’m In Love): Oikawa x Reader

You don’t know Oikawa Tooru. You don’t want to know Oikawa Tooru. But when fate and circumstance bring you two together, you’re forced to confront, over a series of Fridays, your worst fear. You might have been wrong. Also, you might be in love.

Wordcount: 4.3k

Warnings: Some brief bullying from a girl I accidentally named Annoying. Pining.

Oikawa Tooru was one of the most obnoxious guys you had ever met. He thought he was the coolest guy in school, and he was not at all shy about sharing that opinion. He never stopped talking about himself in that high-pitched, whiny voice of his. You hated him. 

So why you had agreed to tutor him was beyond you.

You supposed it paid well enough, but you were dreading your first session. You had prepared yourself to bite your tongue until it bled through his mansplaining. You were probably going to want to die by the end of the experience, but at least you would have some extra cash for the holidays.

Your boots kicked through the drifts of snow, pure as a coal miner after a long day doing overtime. The cold ice crunched under your weight, and you pulled your coat closer, wishing you had a scarf to help provide protection against the biting wind from the cold flushed skin on your face. Your headphones offered some protection to your ears at least, blasting your favorite song in an effort to raise your spirits.

The warm rush of the library’s heating system slammed into you in a wall of heat as you searched for the annoying setter. It took you longer than you thought to find him, expecting the loud man you knew and instead finding someone significantly more studious. He was hunched over one of the library tables, gray cardigan wrapped around his body, glasses perched on his nose.

You hoisted your satchel more firmly up your shoulder, bracing yourself for whatever weird thing was about to happen. Was he trying to look like he knew what he was talking about? Did he want to show off? You really weren’t sure.

You were hesitant to venture forward, but you did anyway, taking a seat next to him. Oikawa immediately looked up, blinking at you a couple of times before giving one of his usual smiles.

“Oh good, you’re here! As much as I’m great at everything, I have to admit that this has been giving me a little bit of trouble. I was so happy to hear you could help me. Iwa-chan won’t anymore, that traitor.”

You couldn’t blame Iwaizume for getting frustrated with Oikawa’s behavior, even if he had chosen to befriend the disaster sitting casually in front of you. You pulled out your books, writing utensils and laptop. You were a self-professed nerd, so you had brought a surplus of pens, highlighters, and other instruments to the table. You had a reputation to keep up after all.

“Well, I guess we should get to work. What part of this are you having trouble understanding?” You asked, pulling open your textbook.

Oikawa explained his troubles to you, and you were surprised to find how intelligent he was. Everything he found difficult to understand was...well, understandable. You could see why he would struggle in those areas, and for some of them you had struggled as well, despite this being your favorite subject. 

Even more surprising, you found out he could be a good listener when he wanted to be. It was alarming, actually, how attentively he could listen. Damn it, he took notes on the things you said, writing down the important parts of your explanations.

As you started to pack up, you saw sparks of the Oikawa you knew.

“Thanks for that, cutie. You’re pretty smart, you know? Of course, you’re smart enough to already know that. Besides, I wouldn’t have asked you to tutor me if you weren’t the best.” He winked. “See you next Friday.”

He didn’t even ask if you wanted to meet him next week. Gosh, he was the worst.

 Even with Oikawa “I’m the Worst” Tooru dragging you down, you were still resolved to keep showing up to these tutoring sessions. They weren’t half as bad as you thought they would be, and you hadn’t stopped needing the money. You could have gotten a better gig, but frankly this was a pretty easy job, easier than you thought it would be. It was, loathe though you were to say it, the best option.

Besides, you were the kind of person who kept their promises, though you weren’t sure you could say the same of Oikawa.

He was late. He was a whole 3 minutes late and you were only on your second session. If he kept up this kind of behavior you were going to have to have a serious discussion with him about timeliness. Your time was valuable, and none of this had anything at all to do with you needing something to justify your dislike of him.

You were halfway through writing your future lecture on timeliness when Oikawa arrived, slightly breathless and windswept, cheeks pink from the cold. Despite looking as though he had run all the way here, he had the nerve to still look all handsome and charismatic. It irritated you.

“Sorry about being late. The guys and I were practicing volleyball and we totally lost track of time.”

He gave you a sheepish smile, recognizing his mistake, and something in the general area of your chest did a little flip. It was probably a rib rotating in disgust.

“It’s alright. Just don’t let it happen again.”

Oikawa gave you his signature charming smile as he sat next to you.

“You know, you could stand to loosen up a little. I know you’re more fun than this, somewhere deep down in that nerdy little heart of yours.”

You rolled your eyes. “It’s not my job to be having fun with you.”

“Ah, but it could be.”

“Just open your textbook, Oikawa-san.”

He pulled the book out of his bag, flipping it open on the desk but not bothering to look down at it.

“Come on. Seriously. I got a way better grade than usual on the pop quiz we got this week. I feel like I should thank you for everything you’re doing for me. What are you doing tomorrow?”

The truthful, sad answer was that you were doing nothing at all, actually. You had tried to make plans with your friends, but they were all “busy” with something or other. While it pained you deeply, Oikawa was right. You had no social life.

You sighed. “I’m not busy tomorrow.”

“Well, that settles it then. The guys and I have practice. You can come watch the end of it if you want, and then we’re all going out for dinner. You should come.”

“I’ll think about it.”

Oikawa’s face lit up in a way you hadn’t expected, and he smiled down at his textbook as he turned it to the relevant page.

“Good. Prove to us that you can have fun after all.”

“Watch it. You’ll remember it’s in your best interest to stay in my good graces.”

Oikawa just laughed at your threat like it was meaningless. He was right to do it. You hated to admit it, but even now he was starting to grow on you.

Oikawa started explaining what he was having trouble with, and just as you were really getting into your subject, you were interrupted by a shrill scream. You stiffened in immediate panic, swiveling in your chair to find the source of the sound. Oikawa, on the other hand, looked momentarily annoyed before pulling his Prince Charming façade into place.

“Oh my gosh!!! Tooru-kun is that you!”

You felt a wave of deep-set annoyance go through you at the girl’s tone of voice. Not only had she caused you to be genuinely alarmed, but she was clearly being way to familiar with Oikawa, unless he had a girlfriend you hadn’t heard about.

“Hey there!” Oikawa turned to face the girl headed towards you, an indulgent smile on his face.

“Oh my gosh! I saw your practice earlier and you were like, so good.” The girl gushed.

“Thank you. That’s very nice of you to say.” Oikawa seemed genuinely flattered at this, if you were so bold as to assume you could tell the difference between the fake him and the real him.

The girl giggled, stars in her eyes before they turned to you, darkening dramatically. “Oh, who is this? Is she like, your girlfriend or something?”

You didn’t like the turn the girl’s tone of voice had taken. There was something distinctly catty to the way she said the world ‘girlfriend’ that made your stomach turn. You had met plenty of mean girls in your life, and now alarm bells were going off in your head.

“No, no. Just my lovely tutor. She’s helping me out in my worst class. She’s very talented.”

Oikawa seemed to have picked up on the change in tone, shifting slightly to be in front of you. Presumably, this was to block you from the daggers the girl was glaring at you.

“Remind me your name, would you?” Oikawa’s smile had grown tense.

“Oh, my name is Miko! How could you forget?” She pouted elaborately.

“Silly me!” If at all possible, Oikawa’s megawatt smile grew brighter as he caught her attention again, drawing her in once more. “I remember now. How have you been, Miko-san?”

You smirked to yourself at the honorific, so different from how she had referred to him earlier.

“I’ve been great! Way better now that I get to catch up with you. I missed you!” She stuck out her lower lip like she was trying to catch something with it.

“Well, I hope to see you at my next game, once we’re back in season. Thanks so much for stopping by!”

Oikawa’s body turned towards the table, clearly indicating that the conversation was over. Miko didn’t get the message.

“What are you studying? Maybe I can join you. I’m pretty smart, you know.”

You had officially had enough. You stood from your place, glaring at the girl in a similar fashion to how she had looked at you earlier, but for very different reasons.

“Listen, Miko-chan,” you said, purposefully pitching your voice up into an imitation of her own calling for Oikawa. “I don’t know who you think you are, but this is a tutoring session. So unless you intend to pay me for my services, I really am going to need you to find somewhere else in this rather large library to study.”

The girl turned to you, and you expected some kind of temper tantrum, maybe a few crocodile tears before she walked away, but what you got was far worse. She smiled at you sickly sweet, planting a hand on your table and leaning in.

“Pay you for your services? Oh, so I guess you’re nothing more than a common who-”

Oikawa stood from his chair, the legs loudly scraping across the floor as he grabbed her arm. He turned her to face him harshly, and you would never forget the look on his face. You had seen the prince of Aoba Johsai wear many faces, most of them some version of the charming, charismatic boy you knew. You had never before seen the look of cold rage he wore now, grip firm on her forearm as he practically snarled at her.

“You’re not going to call her that. You’re not going to call anyone that ever. If I see you at one of my games, I will make sure you are promptly escorted out. Leave. Now.”

The girl stood still for a moment, frozen in terror, before turning on her heel and bolting as Oikawa released her. You blinked in shock a few times, unaware that your classmate was capable of such emotion, let alone such anger.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” you said quietly, the first words to cross your mind. “She’ll go around telling everyone you’re an awful person now. I wouldn’t be surprised if you got in trouble or if she started some kind of weird hate club.”

Oikawa scowled as he sat back down, mind clearly still elsewhere.

“I don’t care. People shouldn’t talk to you like that. Nothing about what she just did was okay. Whatever repercussions I face for that, so be it.”

You stared at him in surprise. Oikawa had come to your defense, at no personal gain to himself. Sure, anyone should have done that, but you never thought he would. Maybe he wasn’t so bad after all.

“Hey.” You nudged his side gently, and he softened, looking down at you. “That invitation to your practice still open? I think I’d like to see you play. I hear you’re ‘so great’ or something.”

He smiled again at your gentle teasing. “Yeah. We’d love to have you.”

  As the months went on, you began to acknowledge that Oikawa was not what you had thought he was. Reluctant as you were to admit it, you considered him a friend now. As you had grown to know him better, it became obvious that everything you had thought about Oikawa before had been a mask he put up to impress people.

“If you keep poking me with that pencil, I will stab you in the eye with it,” you mumbled, not bothering to look up from your paper until a soft spring breeze floated through the library door as it opened.

“Iwa-chan! She’s being mean again!” Oikawa whined.

Iwaizume, ready to join your Friday study session, cast a lazy gaze over the both of you, assessing the situation in half a second.

He shrugged. “It looks like you deserved it.”

“I’m wounded, Iwa!” Oikawa threw an arm over his chest, falling back in his chair.

You rolled your eyes even as a smile tugged at your mouth. You had gotten used to Oikawa misbehaving. Some might go so far as to say you liked it. Some might even go so far as to say you liked him.

You would deny it if asked, of course. The way you blushed when he complimented you was the same as the way you blushed when anyone complimented you. The warm tingle left on your skin when he touched you was just because he was warm, infecting you with it, burning you alive. And the way you couldn’t breathe around him sometimes? Well, nobody could prove that.

Nobody could prove that Oikawa Tooru was your best friend, and nobody could prove that you were in love with your best friend.

Oikawa rested his head on your shoulder, and you wish you could say you had long learned how to ignore the jump of your heart, but you were only human. You still caught your breath, still felt an ache somewhere in your chest when he did it. It was the sort of feeling you got when you saw something in a shop window you couldn’t have but amplified by a million. It was so strong that sometimes you wanted to scream it out, wanted to stomp your feet and throw a fit like a kid in the grocery aisle because you wanted something you couldn’t have but oh, how you wanted it.

It consumed you some days, the way you wanted Oikawa. The way you wanted to peel back his layers, make him reveal that real self you caught glimpses of when he was with you. The soft boy who cried during sad movies, the brave boy who fought for you when you were sad, the silly boy who made faces just to get a rise out of you. It creeped like a sickness through your bones until you wanted to throw up, wanted to lay in bed all day in your sticky sweet misery and sob taffy tears, taste them on your tongue.

“Who are you going with to the spring dance?” Oikawa asked you, breath blowing against your neck in a way he couldn’t know sent shivers through you.

“I’m not going,” you said, returning to your textbook now that Iwaizume had established his presence.

Oikawa sat up, posture stiff with his indignance.

“Not going? How can you be not going? I know for a fact there are at least 5 boys planning to ask you.”

“They asked. I said no. I’m not going.”

“Why not? It will be fun!”

You grit your teeth, trying to ignore the nasty feeling in your gut. You couldn’t very well tell him that you didn’t want to go just to watch him dance with every member of his little fan club. You refused to explain how absolutely heartbreakingly awful it would be to go and watch him rotate through his carousel of girls, all of them beautiful, all of them wanting him, none of them you.

“I’m studying. You know, that thing smart people do when they want to pass their classes?”

Iwaizume snorted.

“I know what studying is.” Oikawa glared. “I thought you would want to come, though. I figured you would already have a dress picked out and a date and everything.”

For a guy trying to convince you to go to this thing, Oikawa sounded almost sad talking about it. He especially seemed rather melancholy at the prospect of your date. You wondered if maybe one of your potential dates was somebody Oikawa hated or something. Not that it mattered, since you had turned them all away.

“I don’t really want to go. These things aren’t really fun anyway. Besides, all the guys who asked me were jerks.”

“That’s true,” Iwaizume said. “Didn’t Itsuki ask you? That guy got in 4 fights just this week. Pretty sure I heard him in the bathroom bragging about…actually, never mind. Point is he’s a jerk.”

“Trust me, I know. They were all like that, too.” You groaned. “If one decent guy had asked me, maybe I would have gone, but apparently there’s something about me that draws in the Itsuki’s of the world. So, I’m not going. I’m just going to stay home and watch tacky movies and do homework.”

“Go with me.”

You froze at Oikawa’s offer. He couldn’t be serious. Didn’t he already have a date? Didn’t he already have girls lining up around the block to go to this stupid thing with him?

“Don’t you already have a date? I thought…” You trailed off, unsure what exactly you had thought.

“No. I…I heard the person I was planning to ask was rejecting everyone who asked her. Didn’t want to risk it.”

For whatever reason, Iwaizume rolled his eyes from where he sat across from you.

“Okay. Well…can’t you just go with one of your fangirls?”

You weren’t sure why exactly you were fighting this. This was what you had wanted, but not like this. You had wanted him to ask you because he liked you, not because he was too afraid to ask some other girl who was apparently too good for the student body population.

“I don’t want to go with them. I want to go with somebody I like.”

Oikawa’s soft brown eyes were too earnest staring into your face. You couldn’t say no to him when he looked at you like that, so open and vulnerable you could almost pretend it was a confession. It would have been terribly cruel of you to turn him down now.

You sighed. “I guess I have to buy a dress now.”

Oikawa smiled. “Yay! You don’t deserve to be cooped up all night in your room. I promise I’ll make this fun for you.”

“You’d better,” you teased. “I’ll tell you once I know the color of the dress. That way you can match your tie.”

“Perfect.”

If you closed your eyes and didn’t think about it too hard, you could almost pretend it was a real date.

 When the Friday night of the dance came, you really did almost believe it was a real date. Oikawa had told you he was going to pick you up, but he hadn’t told you that he was going to bring a corsage or charm the pants off your parents. He was acting like you were the girl he had wanted to take this whole time.

He opened your door for you before you got into the car, taking your hand to help you balance as you stepped into the car in your heels. You were dumbstruck when he reached over to buckle you in and make sure you were safe before heading over to the driver’s side. You tried frantically to control your breathing as he got the car started.

It was a short drive to the school, but the whole way there you could barely talk to him, trying to figure out his game. Was he doing this because he didn’t want you to feel like you were missing out? That had to be it. He was probably just trying to show you what a good date was like.

When you got to the school, he helped you out of the car, and you finally admitted it to yourself. When he escorted you in, despite everything, you sort of felt like a princess. Oikawa looked so dashing in his tux, his tie matching the shade of your dress, everything coming together perfectly for a moment before it came crashing down with the realization that you were not the person he had wanted to take to this thing.

In spite of that, though, he seemed intent to act like it. Oikawa’s fan club mobbed you as soon as you entered, but he ignored all of them entirely for once.

“Sorry ladies, but as you can see, I am escorting my date. Any other day you know you all have my attention, but I’m afraid tonight is all about us.” He flashed you a shy smile as he said it, cheeks turning pink on the word us. “Do you want to dance?”

“Uh….sure.”

He was being weird about this. You didn’t have much time to think about that though before he swung you out on the dance floor, swaying you to the beat of the music. The first few songs were fast, but eventually they played a slow song, and so you two danced a slow dance, Oikawa’s hands settled gently on your waist and yours around his neck. He had you pulled close though, enough so that his head curved over your shoulder and your ear pressed against his.

“So, I was thinking,” he said.

“Oh no. That’s always dangerous.” You laughed a little bit.

“Haha, very funny. But seriously, we’re graduating soon, and I…I don’t want to lose you.”

You couldn’t see his face with the position you were in, but you could hear the tenderness of his voice. Your heart ached with it even as he voiced the thought you had been having for a while now. You were coming to the close of your final year and you had wondered if, when you were no longer in school, you would have to face the reality of Oikawa no longer wanting to spend time with you.

“I don’t want to lose you either,” you said softly.

“Yeah but…” Oikawa released a shaky sigh. “I don’t know if that means the same thing to you.”

Oikawa pulled back, far enough to look you in the eyes. You were too astonished to protest, staring up at him with your mouth fallen open in surprise.

“I want something more. I know you’ve just barely accepted me as a friend and you hardly even tolerate me and I know I’m annoying and loud and brash and obnoxious. I know all of that, but I need you to know that you’re everything I’m not. You’re gentle and smart and careful and considerate and you were the one I wanted to take to this dance. You. Not anyone else. That’s all I have to say.” He laughed bitterly. “I guess that’s my confession. I don’t expect you to accept it.”

Before you could stop him, he let go of you, starting to retreat through the crowd of dancing bodies around you.

“Tooru!” You used his first name in your excitement, forgetting any need to pretend distance.

He stopped when he heard you, a look of desperate hope on his face. You grabbed his hand, pulling him back into you.

“I wanted to come to the dance with you too. You’re my best friend, but you’re so much more than that. I’m so stupidly in love with you, but I never thought that you would feel the same. I do accept your feelings. All of them. Even the big, loud, obnoxious, dramatic ones. I love them. I love all of it. So let’s not lose each other. I was thinking that after we graduate, I’m probably going to go to college, but I don’t know if you have plans to go pro with your volleyball, or maybe-”

You were cut off when he grabbed your face between his hands, crushing your lips to his. Right there, in front of everybody, Oikawa Tooru started making out with you in the middle of the dance floor. Nobody really noticed the two extra teenagers kissing on the dance floor, but you felt your heart soar.

“We can work all of that out later. For now, I just want to dance with you.”

“And kiss me?” You teased.

“Yes. I would very much like to keep kissing you.”

You laughed, leaning into his shoulder again. The song changed, picking up pace to something more upbeat, and you changed your dance style in accordance with it. You could see Iwaizume on the side of the dance floor looking at you two approvingly, and when you made eye contact, he gave you a thumbs up.

Later, you would have to worry about college and volleyball and everything else. Eventually, it would all work out in the end, though not without some troubles. That Friday though, you danced the night away with your best friend turned boyfriend, and finally admitted to yourself that Oikawa Tooru was the best.

[innittowinit]

Abandoned amusement parks are the best place for young children (chapter 5)

Fic summary: 

Techno, Tommy, Wilbur and Phil have been hanging out at the abandoned amusement park in the woods since they moved in. Techno likes knowing he's definitely alone with his brothers Tommy likes climbing on the old rides Wilbur likes having a place to play his music Phil likes spending time with his younger brothers

That is, until a group of brothers calling themselves the 'dream team' move in down the road. Will the sleepy boys give in and share the park or will they succeed in scaring the new kids off?

Chapter summary:

 the dream team talk how to maximize their attacks

the sleepy boys talk about no more fighting

Chapter word count: 1938 (a little shorter than usual sry)

AO3 

I am the author, please don’t re-upload this fic to any other sites/ reblog>re-upload

As the hazing summer weather beamed through the glass panes of their windows, the oldest of all the Dream kids, Bad, was recleaning out the scar on George’s cheek, making sure it was safe for him to go out for the day without him getting it infected, Covering it up with some gauze and medical tape once he was satisfied it wouldn’t be getting infected. Dream watched with ferocious intensity as he tried to memorise every movement, Bad wasn’t home very often, he had school and other things to deal with, so Dream was left to be the biggest brother most of the time. 

When he was little, he would have jumped at the chance to be in charge! It meant he was strong and trustworthy but recently, despite his confident facade, he did find himself getting worried a lot. Being the oldest meant knowing what to do when everyone else was scared, it meant being the bravest! And while he did have to admit he was a natural born leader, he didn’t always feel prepared. People were unpredictable and it scared him a little that it was his responsibility to judge them now. 

“Look” Bad sighed as he listened to his two youngest brothers rant on and on about how mean their ‘rivals’ were; as much as he hated to see them all upset and bothered like this, he was sure something must have happened to cause such a big feud. Kids don’t just fight for the sake of fighting right? When he was their age, he, skeppy and their other friend used to just prank people and play random games together. Maybe they did play fight, he couldn’t really remember..

“Are you sure that nothing happened to provoke them? I believe you muffin heads but maybe try to talk to them about sharing the park next time? Not everything has to be a war y’know……. And keep the gauze on this time! The doctor said you can’t leave it open until it’s fully healed. If you think those boys are actually dangerous I can go talk to their parents while you're gone, stay away from them though okay? I don’t want any more bumps or scratches.” 

As the boys all scrambled to grab their things before running out the door, they each gave Bad a hug, letting him know they’d call if they would be out late. The summer air lingered with an overwhelming feeling of comfort and familiarity as the three kids walked down the street, they hadn’t lived here long at all but they’d already made a name for themselves; they had even already made a group of enemies on the same street as them. This would be fun. 

Walking around in a thick green hoodie and a mask was proving to be more of a challenge that he had initially anticipated though, he wasn’t sure what kind of hell they had moved into but summer was so much more than summer. It was thick thick air, beads of sweat, and absolute torture. He felt his breath fog up and condensate his mask, leaving a coating of wet breath along the inside of the plasticy surface. It was disgusting but he’d rather pass out through heat exhaustion than take it off. Taking off the jumper was fine though, he did need to take extra care when pulling it off though since he couldn’t risk accidentally flashing his face.

Dream had always enjoyed the more violent games, he was an athletic boy, the most athletic out of all his brothers, and he loved trying to see if they could track him down or catch him. This usually ended up being games of hide and seek or bulldog that got taken too far, the scar on the cheek hadn’t been a big deal for them since they were so used to playing in such a rough manner. To them, this was all a game. They’d have a big war over the den but at the end of the day they’d still be friends, if he was being honest Dream was glad he had found other boys who liked the same kind of games as they did! 

His brother’s were fun but they were getting predictable, he knew how they’d react. He wanted new people to play with! He wanted the chance to team up with George and Sapnap and fight as one. 

This would be fun. They needed a plan though. 

“I think.. I think we need to prove that we deserve to hang out there too. There’s absolutely no reason why a little kid should be allowed there but we can't!” Balling his fist up and hitting it directly into the palm of his hand as he tried to think, Dream led the group in the direction of the woods. 

“Wilbur thinks he can talk about what they want as if we don’t exist! I say we declare war on L’manburg! Who are they to say where we can and cannot go!”

Sapnap, the youngest of the three but not by much -certainly not as big of an age gap as the sleepy boys had- had yelled out, waving his toy wooden sword around in mock anger. Really, he was a little upset about not being allowed into the park but it would be so much more fulfilling once they had earned their passage into it. 

Dream glanced at his brother and chuckled, George was holding a toy axe as well, himself having a nerf crossbow, which he had saved up all of his pocket money for a whole month to buy. After doing so many dishes to get the extra cash, he was absolutely going to try it out. 

“Dream you’re good at running, I’d say you should snipe them from behind a bush with your crossbow and when they’re weak you run in there. While they’re distracted George and I can charge in from another point. We shouldn’t attack today, George is still wounded and we aren’t prepared. Let’s just scope the scene and find an alternative entrance”

Admittedly, Dream had a tendency to underestimate his brothers. This was proof enough that Sap could be smart though, it would be an objectively bad idea to attack while they were weakened and the enemy was strong. They only had their ‘weapons’ to defend themselves with, in case the sleepy boys started throwing rocks again. 

In fact, he was still quite surprised that Wilbur even had thrown the rock. He had expected him to be an easy target, he was carrying a guitar around and he was so tall, Dream could definitely push him over if he wanted to play dirty. While it wasn’t ideal they had a tough enemy, he would be lying to himself if he said he wasn’t intrigued to see what would happen next.

Yes, this game was going to be very fun. 

----

“Okay everyone!” 

Phil called out, his three brothers all sat on a half-rubble brick wall. 

“So we all know that we’ve already had two people get hurt inside the L’manburg walls. Obviously nobody wanted this to happen, whether it was from losing your temper or just not paying attention to your surroundings, we need to do something about it” Phil clapped his hands together, he knew them well, if he made this into something fun they might actually take his advice. 

“L’manburg is not just a hang out spot, it’s not just a theme park either! It is our great nation! And, like every great nation, we need laws and rulers to keep us safe!”

Looking around, he saw how their faces perked up, even Techno, who didn’t usually enjoy roleplaying, seemed excited. It was a nice change, especially things were starting to get mundane, considering there wasn’t much of the park left unexplored -Wil had expressed a desire to want to check out the swampy area but Phil immediately shut down that idea, telling him that even if Wil ended up okay, Tommy would copy him and without a doubt get hurt.

“Wilbur will be your president, while I’m not here he’s going to keep you safe and make any tough decisions. Tommy, you will be the vice president” he had to keep himself from saying this role was just to keep the boy from getting upset at not being chosen for anything cool. 

“Tommy, this is very important, do you think you can handle it?” 

The young boy nodded excitedly, bouncing a little where he was sitting. 

“Okay, Tommy you need to help Wilbur make all the important decisions, and when anybody wants to join L’manburg you need to get Wilbur and then you can be in charge of making them go away” As silly as it was, at least he could trust Tommy to not throw rocks if he was told not to. 

“Finally Techno,”

“Oh my god, me too?” The teen chuckled 

“Of course, we need our warrior! Where would we be without our brave fighter!”

“Ah yes, the warrior. Tommy, I eagerly await your command. I’m so ready to fight people” Techno pulled his hair back, tying it at the back in a low ponytail as some small wisps framed his face. It was beautiful, everyone seemed to agree on that -unless they were overly masculine teenage boys- but Techno would kill anyone who dared say so in an instance.

He seemed to be stifling a little laugh, he was never into acting or theatre like his brothers were, while he was little he always preferred playing strategy games rather than make believe ones. That being said, he still loved seeing them happy and even though he doubted he would be doing it nearly as much as they would, he’d make an effort to play along.

The grin that shot across Tommy’s face was reason enough to roleplay, just a bit. 

“Okay okay so we need laws too! Wilbur, as the president, has already prepared a list” 

Phil sat down on the wall, it was cold and uncomfortable but against the humid air mixed with the slight smell of mildew from the slowly rotting park, it was nice. Last night, he had stayed up late with Wilbur, talking about this idea. If they gave Tommy a new place to hang out inside the park and called it the White house, he’d surely play there instead of doing whatever it is he does on the coasters. 

It still made Phil a little dizzy to think that they had been letting Tommy climb unsupervised while he wasn’t here, hopefully he had the mind to not go too high but knowing his brother, he would have taken the chance to climb higher. 

Wilbur cleared his throat as he got a piece of paper out of his pocket. 

“Dear citizens of L’manburg” 

Tommy giggled, which made Wilbur give him a little smile before he carried on with his speech.

“We will be a peaceful nation! I intend to rule this land without the need for any more people getting hurt. Any kind of weaponry, including collected rocks, are strictly prohibited inside L’manburg, the only instance in which we fight is if we are under attack! My fellow Sleepy boys, too much blood has been shed on this land, I hope you will all stand with me while I strive to steer this great nation in the direction of being more loving and accepting of our neighbours.” 

Phil chuckled as he watched his brothers, they all seemed so happy, most importantly though, they would finally have a reason to be more careful.

Hopefully nobody else would get hurt.

[hickorydickkorydoc]

You Don’t Know My Name (Tim Drake x Reader)

Requested: nah HAHAHA just writing for my own pleasure :))

Word Count: 1400

Warnings: None

A/N: so I guess I’m doing a song fic?? I know I’m new here n I’m pretty sure I only said I vibe w DC n Broadway lololol- but one thing many people in my life know about me is that I LOVE Alicia Keys. This is one of my favorite songs from her and the whole “Diary of Alicia Keys” album and I just really love the MV so I wanted to turn it into this. Don’t forget to hit up my asks for requests! 

KEY: Y/N: Your Name Y/H/C: Your Hair Color indent: Lyrics from the song

————————————————————————————————

Baby, baby, baby,  from the day I saw you, I really, really wanted to catch your eye.

You run into your job with minutes to spare before you were considered late, flattening your uniform from the crinkles that were earned from running into the coffee house.

“You’re lucky, (Y/N), with seconds to spare.” 

You hear the comment your boss throws at you, feeling kind of annoyed.

“At least I made it.” You say with a hint of irritation in your voice as you clocked in for your shift.  

You threw on your apron and got ready for work. You took the 9-5 shift here as a way to make extra cash over the break before you headed back to college. This job could have been worse, but you were getting paid a decent amount to support yourself and to do what you wanted. 

 The morning was sluggish, but today the coffee house got a lunch rush. As businessmen and women entered in their expensive suits and leather shoes, you had a bit of hope that you’d get bigger tips than usual. You ran around taking orders and bringing the customers their second coffee of the day, it was normal.

Then, he walked in. 

 A young man with raven colored hair with gleaming blue eyes walked in. You spotted him from the corner of your eye as you brought a cup of coffee to table 12. You’d seen him before, but not up close. You thought he was charming, and he seemed to be your age as well. 

 You don’t know what changed in you. You wanted to say hello, you wanted to ask him how he’s doing, you wanted to ask who he was, you wanted him to notice you.

Something special ‘bout you, I must really like you. Cause not a lot of guys are worth my time.

From that day forward, he came on Wednesdays during his lunch break. He’d always order the coffee which was not a surprise to his coworkers  as he “was fuelled by coffee” as you’d hear it. You learned his name was Tim Drake through the whispers of the other customers as they watched him enter. You always put real milk instead of water even though your boss would call you out on it. This guy was worth more than the cheap instant coffee with just water, you thought he was kind of sweet. 

It was a new feeling, you never really gave much time to guys cause they weren’t worth it, but this guy was. 

“She’s quite pretty.” 

He thought to himself as he watched you converse with the customers with a smile as you laughed at the corny joke the older woman you were attending to cracked. He wanted to chat with you, but the lunch break was short and Wayne Enterprises needed the CEO present for the meetings of the day. 

 “Damn. One day.” He muttered to himself as he had to leave. Before he goes, he spots a glass bowl that was labeled “BUSINESS CARDS” on it. 

 “Eh, why not?” 

 He dropped his in there for the fun of it. Wayne Enterprises didn’t need anymore fame that it already got, so he dropped his own. 

 Oh baby, baby, baby, it’s getting kinda crazy. Cause you are taking over my mind.

 As you watch him walk out the diner, you feel a little sad watching him go. You loved to serve him the special, the short interaction of saying “Here’s your order, sir.” was blissful and receiving the smile and the faint “Thank you.” was enough to make your heart go pounding and making you smile like an idiot for the rest of the lunch rush.

 Every time he left, the rest would follow as their lunch breaks also finished. This let the coffee house go back into its relaxed state with customers coming and going. You watched them eat their burgers and fries whilst you thought about-

 “Tim Drake?” You heard your coworker say. 

 What? now Belinda has mind reading powers and is out here trying to embarrass you?

 “Sorry?” You say feeling a bit flustered with slight fear that maybe Belinda really did have mind reading powers and read through your thoughts.

 “Tim Drake of Wayne Enterprises dropped his card into the bowl. Huh, interesting.” 

 Belinda said as she dropped it back into the bowl. As she walks away, curiosity got the best of you as you grabbed the bowl and took the card.

 “Oh my God.” You thought to yourself. You knew what you were going to do with that card. You saw the number, you had a working cellphone, it was all the components of a crazy plan you were going to pull off.

 “I’m gonna have to just go ahead and call this boy.”  

 *********

 Another day at Wayne Enterprises meant endless meetings, dealing with angry ex lovers of Bruce Wayne at the concierge, and looking at a bunch of new business ventures. Tim was fuelled by coffee and ran on negative hours of sleep.

 As the day paced through slowly, it was finally over. Tim headed back to Wayne Manor to do more work. As he entered and changed into lounging clothes, he expected another evening of writing on excel sheets and attending to his duties as a vigilante.

 His thoughts as to what the next big investment would be paused as he heard his phone ring. An unknown number was displayed across the screen, he answered it.

 “Hello?”

 “Hello? Can I please speak to - to Tim?”

 “This is him speaking, may I help you?”

 “Oh hey, how ya doin’? Uh, I feel kinda silly doing this but uh, this is the waitress from the coffee house across Wayne Enterprises. You know, the one with the (Y/H/C) hair?”

 He smiles to himself as he recognized you by just that hint. 

 “Oh yes, hello! Miss...?”

 “(Y/N). So sorry to bother you but, I found your number in the business cards bowl.”

 “Of course, my bad I slipped for a bit, I just realized I never really caught your name on your tag.” He chuckles through the phone.

 You chuckle along as you would assume someone so young with a top position at a company would be sharper.

 “Yeah, well I see you on Wednesdays all the time. You come in every Wednesday on your lunch break I think. You always order the special, with the coffee. And my manager be tripping and stuff saying that we gotta use water. But I always use some milk and cream for you ‘cause I think you’re kinda sweet.” You mention that to him with the confidence that was erupting within. 

He blushed slightly at your remark and the gesture that you reserved just for him when he ate there. 

 “Why thank you, (Y/N). I really appreciate that.”

 Conversing with you even on the phone was enough to make this boy fall even harder for the girl he didn’t even know the name of at first. You take a glimpse at the time realizing it was getting dark and you probably shouldn’t bother such a busy guy.

 “Look man, I mean I don’t wanna waste your time, but...”

 “Oh no worries, I’m free the rest of the day.” He lies just so he can get a few more minutes of hearing your serene voice. 

 “I know girls don’t usually do this but I was wondering if maybe we could get together outside the restaurant one day? Cause I do look a lot different outside my work clothes.”

 His smile became even bigger with this newfound joy that erupted once you asked him. He chuckled at the last portion of you asking him out. He knew you’d look gorgeous in anything, even in Pajamas.

 “I’d love to, (Y/N). What about Thursday?”

 You smiled like an idiot once he said yes to meeting you. Your blood was rushing and you were filled with excitement.

 “Yes, Thursday’s perfect.” You smiled as you answered.

 “Great! see you on Thursday, (Y/N). Looking forward to it. Gotta get back to doing some work.” Tim answers back to you.

 “Oh yes! See you then!” You hung up the phone and screeched like a giddy child. Unbeknownst to you he was practically doing the same thing. This was gonna be great. 

[heartofsnark]

This Is Love (Chapter Ten): The Snakes We Don’t See

Notes: Kinda been sitting on the two most recent chapters, since I like started to write some cyberpunk 2077 stuff. So, thats why its been a while, but given how short the prologue for that fic is, I decided to go ahead and update this this month as well. 

Word Count:  13277

Chapter Warnings: Child Abuse (excerpts from the book of joseph), Suicide (non-graphic but still), A body horror dream (my favorite) with some symbolism/implications of sexual assault, discussion of religion, and really really way too blunt on the nose foreshadowing

For chapter one and the warnings about this fic’s overarching themes, please click here!

For the previous chapter; click here!

The church and compound look beautiful in the moonlight, Dahlia can’t help but note as she drives Cassie towards it. The modest white buildings and the silver gate work looking beautiful beneath a blanket of stars. It’s not a steady bustle of activity like it was last time, thanks in large part to the late hour, she’s sure. But there’s a few church members meandering around the outside of the church, beyond the gate. Which, to her dismay is being watched by Theodore. It had to be one of the two members who hate her, didn’t it? Because life can’t just kick her in the teeth once and call it done, no, it has to throw in a few extra hits for good measure. The towering man is glaring at her as she comes to a slowed down stop before the gate. 

“Though I doubt it’s why you’re here, service is over, so save me a headache and scram.” 

“No can do, I gotta talk to Joseph.” 

“Pfff,” he scoffs at her, “you arrest me, ruin service, and then come around demanding an audience with The Father. Gotta hand it to you, nothing else, you got balls.” 

“Technically, Hudson arrested you, I wasn’t hired yet.” 

“You think that helps?” 

“Come on man, this ain’t about me.” 

He looks past her to Cassie, still holding onto Dahlia’s back, face ducked down to hide away from his amber gaze. Dahlia can see gears turning in his head and he sighs, rolling his eyes. 

“Fine, you can come through, but only ‘cause The Father likes you.” 

“Thanks,” Dahlia parks her bike, Cassie handing her back her helmet before the pair walk into the compound. 

“That guy at the gate is kind of…a lot.” 

“Eh, he doesn’t like me much, but he’s not that bad. Lonny’s probably the biggest d-bag I’ve met here, Jacob and his…friends, if you can call ‘em that, are a bit rough. But, even then, I’m seen more friendly faces than I’ve seen cruel ones.” 

A few people recognize Dahlia from the barbecue, giving her a kind smile and a friendly wave as she passes by in search of Joseph. She returns the kind gestures but stays focused on her goal. Dahlia isn’t quite sure she’s ready to fulfill her promise of stepping foot into the church just yet, but if they’re freshly done with service, that’d be where she’d find him. 

“Deputy,” a soft angelic voice speaks out, Faith walking through the compound  yard towards them, her hair is done up in plaits with flowers twisted in them, “is everything okay?” 

“Uh, not really? I was hoping to talk to Joseph? If he’s around.” Of course he’s around, she’s not sure why she’s acting like there’s a chance he’s not here. 

“Sure, I’ll go get him right away.” 

She breathes a sigh of relief when she sees him, walking out of the church with Faith beside him, she’s never been happier to see a preacher in her entire life. Dahlia looks over at Cassie and sees the raised eyebrow, which is understandable. Joseph is Joseph, strange and weird, shirtless with a myriad of sins and tattoos etched into his skin, and yellow aviators on despite the silver moonlight that covers them all. But at the moment, that moonlight gives him a halo, a saving grace for a shitty night. 

“Deputy, I’m surprised to see you so soon,” Josephs greets her,

“Yeah, I’m sorry to bug you, but I…we,” Dahlia looks back at the still timid Cassie, duffle bag held out in front of her lap,  “need some help. I didn’t know who else to turn to.” 

“Of course, if there’s anything I can do to help, I will.” 

“Well, Joseph, Faith, this is my friend Cassie, Cassie this is Joseph and Faith,” Dahlia first introduces them

“Hi…” Cassie gives an awkward nod of her head. 

“A pleasure to meet you,” Joseph responds with a warm smile, “though I feel there’s more to this than friendly introductions.”

His gaze lingers on Dahlia’s knuckles, still stained with Liam’s blood. 

“Okay, so, Cassie’s home life is,” Dahlia pauses and looks to Cassie, searching for words that she might be comfortable with the deputy using, “bad, she’s not safe there. That’s all I’ll say. So, I was letting her stay with me but….recent events mean it ain’t too safe there either.” 

“I’m so sorry, I’m sure this has been difficult on the two of you.” 

“Difficult is a word for it; but more importantly, I hear Eden’s Gate takes folks in.” 

“Deputy…”

“I know it’s a lot to ask, I know it’s short notice, and I-“ 

A large warm hand grasps her shoulder and she doesn’t flinch, not this time.

“I’m honored you’d come to me for help.” 

And she feels his sincerity in his touch, hears it in every word, and sees it in his eyes. It’s hard to believe how much she distrusted him at first, she curses her past for coloring her view. He’s strange certainly, but he’s good.

“So, I take it you can help?” 

“Of course, my child.” 

“We have plenty of space at the convent,” Faith chimes in with a soft smile, looking from Joseph to Cassie. 

“Thank you, thank you, seriously, thank you so much,” Cassie gushes, relief swimming in her dark eyes. 

“We can get you settled in tonight.” 

“That’s so sweet, I can’t thank you enough.” 

“We’re happy to help,” then Joseph’s eyes turn to Dahlia, “will you be alright though, deputy?”

Joseph suddenly catches her hand in his own, brushing his fingers over her bloodied knuckles, no sign of hesitation at the rough sight. Brows furrowed in concern. 

“Oh yeah, it’s not mine, don’t worry, uh,” she catches herself, “that sounds bad, but like dude was gonna torch my trailer so, it was like okay to punch him, I think.” 

“Wait, what?”  Cassie’s eyes go wide as she looks to Dahlia, she must not have seen Liam with the lighter, only Dahlia striking him. 

“Yeah, dude was gonna fuckin’ torch the place, so I blacked his eye. More than fair, if you ask me.” 

“Okay, first,” Cassie starts and Dahlia smiles as a bit of the girl’s personality peeks through her fear, “I didn’t know it was that bad. Secondly, I don’t think you’re suppose to talk like that in front of a church and it’s preacher.” 

“I also shouldn’t have worn a shirt that said ‘hail satan’ to their sermon.” 

“You what?” 

“Look, in my defense,” Cassie is covering her mouth and laughing, a welcomed sight, “I don’t think, okay, you think I think and I just don’t alright.” 

Dahlia is laughing through her own words, face flushed red at being the butt of the joke, but if it can bring a smile to Cassie’s face right now she’d make a thousand more mistakes like it.  Faith’s little melodic giggles ring out behind her own hand. Joseph doesn’t laugh but he does smile. With the tension of Cassie’s housing eased, everyone seems in a brighter mood. 

“And despite all that, you still like her?” Cassie asks, looking up at Joseph and Faith.

“I’d get mad but like, fair fuckin’ question.” 

“I’ve forgiven sins and transgressions far greater than yours,  deputy,” Joseph says and his eyes are intense, kind, but the word sins makes the hair on the back of her neck stand up. It’s not a fun word, but most religions have a ‘everyone’s born a sinner’ mentality. So, surely she can’t be too upset. 

“Your patience is both staggering and appreciated, I assure you,” Dahlia tells him, her smile a bit more forced than it was a moment ago. If he can tell he doesn’t say anything. 

“Come on Cassie, I’ll introduce you to everyone and we’ll get you settled, okay?” 

“Yeah, that sounds nice.” 

Faith grabs Cassie’s hand and leads her away with a giggle, the sigh of the flower adorned woman leading her away in the night reminds Dahlia of her odd dream before. The draw of Faith, the siren pulling someone away in the moonlight. But that’s silly, Dahlia tells herself, they’re climbing into a pickup truck drove by another church member, yelling goodbyes to Joseph and Dahlia with smiles on their face. Yet the image of a siren dragging a victim into the sea pricks at her mind, despite how asinine it may be.  

Dahlia shakes her head, wondering why her nerves have suddenly ticked up. She’s over this, isn’t she? Eden’s Gate is good, she reminds herself, one of the few good things in this county that’s actually helping people instead of letting them drift into the cracks. Despite everything she’s heard, they’re good.  Her personal issues is just fucking with her, that has to be it. 

“Are you certain you’ll be okay, Deputy?” Joseph asks as the truck rolls down the curves of the road, disappearing over the horizon, Cassie gone with it. 

“Uh, yeah, gave the guy a hell of a shiner so he should cut the shit for a while. Should be fine.” 

“Is it?” 

“Fuck if I know, but what am I gonna do, sit around and cry about it?” 

“I certainly wouldn’t expect you to, but if something does happen, you know you can come to me.” 

“Yeah, uh, it means a lot,” Dahlia scratches at the back of her neck, his gaze too intense again, “and thanks again for helping out Cassie. It means a lot, I really don’t know if I can thank you enough.” 

“You could always attend church, if you wanted to show thanks.” 

“Patient but persistent, I see, but, uh, not quite ready to cash in that promise yet.”

“I understand but, I’d be remiss if I didn’t caution you. My patience may be staggering, but the world is not so kind. Time is finite and you window for finding salvation may be closing quicker than you know.” His voice is fevered and impassioned,  hints of a southern accent peeking through as his intensity rises, awash in moonlight the glow of it around turns from a halo to an eerie glow.

“Okay, not holding back, are you?” Dahlia tries to laugh it off, religious folks are just like this sometimes, aren’t they?

“I would be doing you a disservice if I did.”

“So…you think the worlds ending?” She asks, trying to keep her tone light, the only other interpretation of her window closing is Joseph’s convinced she’ll die soon.

“You don’t?” He questions, brows furrowed, as if the idea of the world not ending is ridiculous. And…she kind of gets that.

“I didn’t say that,” she moves to lean her back against the church building, standing next to Joseph instead of before him, looking at the stars, “I mean eventually humans are gonna destroy the planet, climate change, corporate pollution, not to mention us just trying to kill each other half the time. And even if we don’t fuck it up, eventually time will, sun’s going to go to the next stage and destroy the earth. So…”

“You sense it coming, too..”  He presses his back against the wood next to her, no longer focusing his stare on her but the moon, maybe he sense her unease with his gaze…

“Yeah…I guess, don’t know when or how, but eventually…”

The itch of nerves under her skin is too strong, she digs a cigarette from it’s pack and lights it, smoking against the church building. John warned her it’s forbidden by Eden’s Gate, that Joseph wouldn’t like such an act, but he doesn’t stop her in the moment. Whether it’s another moment of him showing her kindness or just consideration for her not being apart of the church, she doesn’t know.  

“Yet, you still put off salvation.”

“Okay,” she exhales a plume of smoke, “I’ll bite, what’d that fix?”

“When the world collapses those who’ve followed the path to Eden, confessed their sins, atoned, and made their sacrifice will be the ones who walk into the garden, into New Eden. A world cleansed of sin and turmoil. The world will be pure again, free of pain.”

New Eden sounds like their heaven, essentially, to Dahlia. So, nothing truly new by any religious standards. Almost every Christian religion has a doomsday, revelation, apocalypse, end of the world and those who do what god wants get to be super happy in some magic paradise, while everyone else burns. Same stuff, new label.

“Well, as much as your concern for my immortal soul is appreciated, I’m gonna have to pass.”

“You’ll come to understand eventually… I just hope it’s not too late.”  

She scratches at the back of her neck again, his words leaving a bad taste in her mouth that mingles with the nicotine, it feels dismissive of her… Like he claims to know her feelings and where they’ll end up better than she does. There’s a habit among those older than her to assume they know how the world works more than she does, she chalks it up to an old man thing, and lets it roll off her back. He still helped her, despite his faults. 

“We’ll have to agree to disagree, but I do appreciate everything, I’ll have to when I get a chance call Cassie and see how she’s settles in.” 

“I’m afraid that won’t be so simple.” 

“What?” She turns to look at Joseph now, raising an eyebrow, why wouldn’t she be able to call Cassie?

“While Cassie is staying with us, we do expect her to abide by our rules. There are no cellphones permitted in the convent, I’m sure you understand.” 

“Oh,” Dahlia blinks, “guess that explains why not a single person was on their phone at the barbecue.” 

“Smartphones and social media have eroded people’s values, they’re more concerned with it than they are their own family.” 

“Okay, okay, I get it; the convent have a landline or Satan manage to get through that too?” His expression hardens, unimpressed by her quip, though she can’t help but smile. After a moment, he sighs. 

“There is a landline available there, but it’s typically reserved for church matters. If you wish to check on her, visiting and writing letters would be ideal.” 

“Got it, I’ll keep that in mind,” she moves from her spot against the church exterior, “thanks again, Joseph. I’ll talk to you, later.” 

“Have a nice night, Deputy.” 

“You too.” 

Dahlia stubs out her cigarette once she’s outside the compound’s gates, climbing onto her motorcycle. She didn’t realize how isolated Cassie might be there, if she’s not even allowed to call her friend. It just doesn’t sit right. But, Joseph’s far from the only old religious man to claim technology is bad. And if Cassie is living with them, it’s natural to expect her to follow the same guidelines as everyone else. It was already asking a lot for them to house her, it’d be unthinkable to expect special treatment as well. 

The trailer park is far calmer when she rides through, damage already done, Dahlia sighs at the sight of all the havoc they caused. It’s already well past midnight, but her night is far from done. There’s glass to be cleaned up and windows to be covered until she can get supplies to fix them properly. She could care less about the spray paint and if needed she can sleep through the chill, but she’d at least like to not sleep on broken glass. 

She’s parked and locked up her bike, walking up her porch when she hears the crush of steps, someone clearing their throat. Liam stands, hands in his pockets and a mottle of bruises across his eye. His blues eyes look anywhere but her. 

“Dude, seriously, just go. I-”

“I’m sorry…,” he mumbles, clearing his throat again, searching for words, “I didn’t know she was in there, I really didn’t. Clyde said she left out and he hadn’t seen her come back, we thought the place was empty and-”

“And? You could have killed her, ignorance don’t cure third degree burns!”  She’s taken steps towards him, nearly yelling in his face now, she can see hurt in his face. He may not have meant to take a life, but in one dumb moment he nearly did and he damn well needs to know that. 

“I know, I know, I just…no one got hurt, she, she ain’t hurt, right?” 

“No, thank fuck, but that doesn’t make it okay? Even if you didn’t hurt you, you scared the fuck out of her, this was suppose to be a safe place for her and you destroyed that!” 

“I’m sorry, okay, I… I can’t fuckin’ say sorry enough and I mean it. I just we were drinking and thought we’d see if we could run ya out of here, it got out of hand.” 

“You hate cops, I get that, I do and quite frankly you wanna give me hell, have at it. There ain’t anything you can do to me that hasn’t already been done. But shit like that doesn’t just affect me, hell, you could of set the whole damn place on fire.” 

“Yeah, I, fuck I nearly pulled a Sharky.” 

“I’m…not sure what you mean by that, ‘cause last thing I saw that man do was…very different. But, uh, if you’re doing that too you should stop.” Her stomach churns at the reminder of Boshaw in his jeep, she really was hoping she repressed that. 

“I don’t even wanna know,” Liam shakes his head, “but I am sorry about Cassie…I’d like to apologize to her, if she’s around.” 

“Fat chance of that man, I found her another place to stay, she’s somewhere safe and far away from your ass.” The convent isn’t particularly far away, but he doesn’t need to know that. 

“I deserve that.” 

“Fuck yeah, you do.” 

“Well, I said my piece, I assume I’ll be seeing the inside of a cell tomorrow?” 

She chews her lip for a moment, he strikes her as genuine, in both his remorse and ignorance. He wasn’t trying to become a murderer, he only mean to run her out of the trailer park. And at the end of it all, Cassie is safe. 

“Nah man, it’ll  be fine, so long as you don’t pull this shit again. You do and I’ll be in jail for killing your ass.” 

“Gotcha…thanks…I think.” 

“Now, fuck off, I got a mess to clean. Unless you care enough to help?” 

“Hell no,  have fun, narc,” Liam scoffs at the idea and leaves, clear his remorse was only ever for Cassie’s sake. Asshole.  She watches him vanish into his own trailer before finally walking into her own to start on her night of work. 

That night and next day are monotonous, mess cleaned up and windows covered just as the sun starts to rise over the horizon. Muscles aching and a damp sweat clinging to her skin, she showers and catches a few hours of sleep. When she wakes up she’s off to the local hardware store and buying what she needs to fix the windows, as well as some damage done inside the trailer. 

The sun is setting on the next day by the time all the damage is attended to, well everything but the graffiti of PIG across the outside of the trailer. But, she doesn’t have the energy to wash it away. Lounging around her living room after another shower, Dahlia finds her mind drawn back to Cassie and The Seeds. 

No phone calls, only letter writing. It seems so unnecessarily archaic in the modern age, though she may mostly be whining because her handwriting is completely illegible. It’s too late to drop in on the convent, plus she doesn’t particularly want to move. After last night, she likes the idea of a lazy night. And with her long at time hard to predict workdays, it may not be possible to swing by for more than a moment until the weekend. 

She doesn’t have to write her letter, at least not by hand, she decides as she opens her laptop. She’ll type it up and print it out at the station, then she can send it like a proper letter, to appease Joseph’s hatred of tech. 

“Hey, Cassie, Deputy whatever (did I tell you my last name, legit can’t remember?) here. Joseph said you guys can’t like call? I guess? But you can get letters, so given my handwriting, typing it instead. I just wanted to check in on you, make sure you’re settling in. Maybe this weekend I can visit? I’ll treat you to lunch.”

That sounds alright, she decides, saving the typed letter. She drums her fingers against the table, searching for something else to maintain her attention. The Book of Joseph with her drawing tucked inside of it is still nearby, Joseph’s lecture of last night coming to mind. Maybe, she could write him a thank you letter? He seems like the kind of guy who’d appreciate that, she opens another document. 

“Dear Joseph,

That’s how you format a letter, right? Sorry, social media has “eroded” my soul and the art of letter writing is lost on my generation. That’s a joke, I hope it’s somewhat funny, if not sorry. My handwriting is atrocious, so I hope a typed letter still fits into your beliefs, since I’m trying here. I just wanted to thank you in some small way, despite some of our different beliefs, you’ve been incredibly kind to me and my friend. I read somewhere that drawings can be like gifts? So, I drew something for you. I hope it’s a nice gesture and not creepy, but it can’t be as creepy as the portrait in your book and creepy is kind of your thing, so. Also a joke, I promise I’m trying to be funny not mean… I’ll end this now, thanks again, Me, Cassie, and my eroded damned soul appreciate it. “

Dahlia saves the letter to Joseph, it’s messy and awkward, but so is she. She’ll print and mail them both out tomorrow. Hopefully, she won’t have to put her proper name on an envelope to send it. The idea of no one knowing her name is fun, she wants to play into it. The mysterious deputy who no one knows, sounds way cooler than she is. 

She stretches her arms out and puts her laptop aside, grabbing the Book of Joseph, the conversation with Joseph has renewed her interest in learning more about his beliefs. Even if they don’t align, even if she’ll never believe in god, the least she can do is try to understand. She made harsh initial judgments and still struggles with her past effecting her thoughts, making what could be nothing into red flags, this is a way to make amends. Even if Joseph isn’t able to see her efforts, it means something to her, growing as a person. 

“Not ice cream trucks, not social services cars, not even police patrols.

In any case. In these parts, people kept their noses out of other people's business, even when that business took place on a porch out in the open.

The father thrashed his arms furiously while the boy, young Joseph Seed stood with his head bowed, contrite and seemingly fixated on the floorboards. If he had looked up, he would have seen the kaleidoscopic colors of an old issue of Spiderman flashing by, alternating with the smooth black leather of his father's Bible and the ruddy face of the father himself. He would have seen the grey teeth-few and far between-of Old Man Seed, as the locals called him, or Old Man Seed behind his back, as Josephs big brother Jacob had snickered to him. Dental care was not a priority in the Seed household. The money was needed for other things. So, his father's teeth always reminded Joseph of the rocky crags that pirate ships washed up on in picture books at the library.”

She tries to see them, a young Joseph and Jacob on their porch. It’s both easy and difficult all at once. A part of her can easily see in her mind, the two young boys with freckled faces and bright blue eyes, one ginger and the other brunette. But, connecting that to who she knows to be Joseph and Jacob Seed is more difficult. It’s always weird to imagine old people when they were young, old to her she should specify.  To imagine the mountain that is Jacob Seed as a young boy, laughing behind his abusive father’s back. To see Joseph as a little boy reading comic books and pirate stories. The images seem so far removed from the tall intense older men she knows now. 

The life they’ve lived is one she knows well, no media beyond the bible, and beatings for breaking rules. But, her own abuser was more hidden, pretending to be a pillar of the community with his wonderful little church while beating her black and blue behind closed doors. Behind a church following service was the most brazen he ever became; it’s hard to imagine a man bold enough to beat his children in broad daylight on his porch. Though, she has no doubt what she reads is true. She’s seen Joseph’s back, his distaste for shirts making every scar a public display, she knows the lash marks well. Her own back marred with them as well. 

It makes her wonder, how they could be so different in their takeaways… Joseph if anything has turned to religion, leading his own church and group, taking issue with the sinfulness of modern media. Though, by no means an abuser, it’s hard to debate that he now shares qualities with his father, if only regarding religiosity. 

Dahlia once heard that people grow up to be their parents, particularly their same sex parents. Which is an all at once terrifying prospect for most people, but especially for people like her and the Seeds. The prospect she could be anything like her mother, watching passively as her own child is abused, bending to the will of a man and losing herself completely; is downright terrifying. Dahlia is determined to not let that happen, but it’s still a fear. She can see ways they match; both physically and in certain traits. Dahlia wonders if Joseph sees the way he matches his father and if those qualities scare him too. If he worries his faith has turned him into that same monster. She wonders too about Jacob, if his surliness is a part of that, if he sees any of his father in himself. 

“The priority in the Seed household, as everyone in the neighborhood knew, was cheap whiskey, which the father drank from dawn 'til dusk. The more whiskey that went in, the more Bible verses that came out -and the more often his children felt the switch. 

The cause of the paternal fury was simple: comics were forbidden in the home - comics and books, records, magazines, radio, and television. Only the Bible was allowed. 

Once, when the entire elementary school went to see Gone with the Wind at an old theatre in town, Joseph's father had leapt up in rage like a drunken jack-in-the-box, and before stunned teachers and students, launched into a rambling sermon condemning the sins of Hollywood, insisting this Babylon had long perverted the most fragile of minds and was responsible for the downfall of all of America, with Joseph under one arm and Jacob under the other, he stormed out of the room still hurling curses.”

Dahlia doesn’t have many blessings to count, but Monroe never dragged her from school with a sermon. Only making her withdraw and begin homeschooling the moment he learned the public school had the nerve to provide even shoddy sex education. But she’d take a quiet withdrawal from the system over being physically dragged out before everyone. 

“This time, when they arrived home, he beat Jacob only, because he was the eldest and thus responsible for his younger brother. At least the brothers had had time to see Atlanta burn. Thus, when Old Man Seed stood on the porch and began sliding off his belt, the child simply removed his T-shirt, folded it carefully, and bent over to offer his pale, delicate back to the worn-out strap of leather. 

Joseph's head was turned toward the well maintained- at least by local standards - house of a quiet, gentle widow. He considered it a blessing, if a small one. Facing the other way, he would have had to look at the other neighbor's house, which even by local standards was so run-down as to be hideous to the eye. When they were younger, the widow used to bake them cakes, probably out of pity for them. The children's mother wasn't exactly an impressive chef. She wasn't exactly a loving mother either. But the widow didn't bake much of anything anymore now that she was dying of cancer. Instead, she spent her days in her porch rocking chair, rain or shine, tottering gently. Jacob and Joseph argued over whether the groaning came from the wooden rocking chair or the old women.”

Dahlia closes the book, marking the page at that point, she can’t deny the intensity of the content and the impact it has on her. She can only stomach so much at a time, trauma too close to her own. Talks of a lackluster mother and the kindness of strangers only adding to it all. Maybe one day she’ll talk to Joseph about this, how he can bless those who hurt him in such a way,  how he has managed to be so open about it. It all seems to be a level of maturity she can’t imagine reaching, how much work and growth does it take to accomplish that?

She falls asleep that night thinking of just how much work she has left to do, just how far she has to go as a person. How long will it take her to be okay with her past? Thoughts fade to black as she succumbs to her heavy eyelids. 

The sun is bright and high in the bright blue sky, deceptively cherry for what her and Pratt are being called out to. Despite shifting opinions on Joseph, she can’t deny that the statue still creeps her the fuck out. As they drive further upward, the sheer scale of the cement monument takes her breath away. How much time and work went into that? Joseph doesn’t seem to have an ego, but to an outsider this downright makes him look like a narcissist. They don’t go fully up the mountain, where the trail forms stone circular steps and rings around the base of the statue. From where they park, she can see gazebos with flowers woven into them that line the open space around it. 

There’s a small crowd waiting for them at the base of the mountainside the statue is built on, a section of it just beneath the stone Joseph’s hand is carved slightly down. Ledges with spots to grapple along comes down to the ground. The statue blocks out the sun when they stand beneath it, the visage of Joseph towering over them like a kaiju is both terrifying and hilarious to the young deputy. 

The ambulance is already there, body bag being brought inside of it, sparing the deputies from seeing what remained of the person after they jumped. Rocky ground where the man would have hit is painted with a white Eden’s Gate symbol, blood now staining the dark rock and white paint. 

Faith and a few Eden’s Gate members are nearby. The youngest Seed sits on a stone, adorned in one of her delicate white dresses, her blonde hair pulls back in a soft ponytail today. Her feet are still bare, as if someone’s blood isn’t mere inches from her, as if a body bag isn’t being rolled into an ambulance. Faith leans back on her hands, humming softly, kicking her feet gently in tune to her little song. Does this even faze her?

“Not much to do here,” the EMT tells Pratt and Dahlia, “another suicide, guy hit his head off the cliff before he even reached the ground, dead on arrival.” 

“This happen a lot?” Dahlia asks, looking between Pratt and the EMT. They talked as if this happens every day. 

“Kinda, “ Pratt admits, “I mean, it’s easy to access and tall as fuck, people have been jumping off to die since the peggies finished building it.” 

“Hope County’s version of The Golden Gate Bridge.” 

“That’s…fucked.” 

“We gotta get to the morgue, call the next of kin, don’t know if there’s much else for you all to handle.” 

“Alright, thanks for the help.” 

Pratt and Dahlia wave off the EMT as the ambulance drives away; leaving the deputies with Faith and the Eden’s Gate members. It’s only natural to ask the owners of the statue a few questions, if they saw or heard anything. Faith seems to know this, given her soft smile as she waits for them, this really must be a normal occurrence. 

“Hello, deputies,” she greets them as they wander off, “it’s a shame really, that a symbol of hope is used by the hopeless to end their own suffering.” 

“I’m sure your heart is breaking, but, don’t suppose there’s any chance you saw anything?’ 

“No, I’m afraid no one was here this morning or late last night.” 

“Of course,” Pratt says, more annoyed than anything and if this is the typical, Dahlia can understand why. There’s not much they can really do, it’s a tragedy, but unless there was another party involved it’s not really a police matter. 

But, Dahlia wonders why the statue is so enticing a spot for suicide? It’s tall of course, the fall is a certain death. But, there are so many bridges around as well, not that she’s in that mental state at the moment but she imagines falling into water to die would be more enticing than hitting rock. And it’s odd as well, that the impact spot is marked with their symbol.

“Why is the ground painted?” 

“Hmm?” Faith hums out an inquisitive noise, blinking at the deputy’s sudden question. 

“The ground here, your church symbol is on it, I was just wondering why? Doesn’t seem like you can or would do much in this exact spot?” 

Dahlia’s reminded of a bible passage, one of many she recalls from her childhood. The story of Satan trying to tempt Jesus to jump from a high cliff in Jerusalem, that if he’s truly the child of god he’d be safe, to give a leap of faith. It sticks in the back of her mind, nagging at her, surely that wouldn’t be a thing? 

“Oh, I know it’s silly, but we like to put our symbol of hope and faith wherever we can, even in the smallest of places.” 

“Uh, this isn’t like a thing, is it?” Dahlia asks before she can stop herself. 

“Rook,” Pratt scolds her for the accusatory question. But Faith giggles. 

“You really have a vivid imagination, don’t you, Rook? I don’t imagine we’d keep many members if we were pushing them off a statue.” 

“Yeah, sorry,” that was dumb, Dahlia realizes the second she hears it out loud, “I think I’ve been watching too many horror movies.” 

“Next, you’ll be accusing us of drugging our members,” Faith says, giggling with a soft smile on her face and Dahlia laughs along, yeah, she’s being ridiculous. 

“Okay, well with that out of the way, we’ll get out of your hair,” Pratt speaks up, ready to go back to the station, not that there was much for them to do. 

“Uh, actually, I did wanna ask you something, real quick, about Cassie,” Dahlia pipes up, before they leave. Pratt raises an eyebrow, looking at Dahlia. 

“She’s settling in really well, she already feels like a part of the family, I assure you.” Faith squeezes Dahlia’s shoulder, warm in it’s reassurance. 

“Thanks, I’m hoping I can visit before too long.” 

“Oh, that’d be wonderful!” Faith captures both of Dahlia’s hands this time, grinning and stepping into the deputy’s personal space. Her and Joseph are both so touchy, it catches her off guard. 

“Well, it’s been nice talking to you Faith, but we really need to be headed back now, c’mon, Rook.” 

“Coming,” Dahlia calls out following behind a fast walking Pratt, one final wave goodbye to Faith. 

Dahlia is fastening her seat belt in the cruiser, Pratt starting up the engine and taking them back down that winding road. There’s a palpable tension that eases with every step away from that statue. Whoever at Eden’s Gate approved it is ridiculous. 

“Didn’t know you and Faith were so close.” 

“We get along alright, her and Joseph helped me out this weekend.” 

“What, you ditch the barbecue to hang out with peggies?” 

“No,” she rolls her eyes, “my friend Cassie was staying with me, some shit happened at the Moonflower, they offered to help her out.” 

“Since when do you have friends?” 

“Hahaha, hilarious. Look, it’s not like I planned for shit to go sideways, why do you even care?” 

“I don’t.” 

“Sure seems like you do.” 

“I don’t, you wanna run around with peggies, that’s your business, but it’s not gonna do you any favors around here.” 

“Oh no, are the popular girls not gonna like me if I sit with the peggies?” Dahlia says with mock worry, pressing her hand to her chest. What kind of high school bullshit is this?

“Shut up, I’m fuckin’ serious, the only people who like peggies are peggies. Since when do you like that shit anyway?”

“I don’t like it, I’m not into religion, you know that. Just, I don’t know, doesn’t mean they aren’t chill.” 

“Eden’s Gate is not fuckin’ chill, they’re weird and a pain in the ass.” 

“They’re definitely weird, you know social media has eroded my soul?”  

“What they find out you shared John’s shitty commercial on Twitter?” 

“Huh, no? How’d you know that?” Dahlia’s careful to keep herself hard to identify online, her Twitter has no name, job, or location. Though, unless Eden’s Gate is broadcasting their cheesy crap all over the nation, that’d be easy for a Hope County Native too figure out. 

“Petunia’s your icon on there.” 

“I didn’t realize you could tell the difference in opossums.” In Dahlia’s defense, Petunia looked adorable eating her lunch that day and again, she assumed anyone would just think it was a random opossum picture. 

“I know Petunia when I see her, give me some credit,” he rolls his eyes, “you know John’s gonna kill you if he does find out.” 

“Well, it’s a damn good thing Eden’s Gate doesn’t use social media then.” 

“Ah, yes, because as we all know no one ever disobeys their religion. I for one am still a picture perfect altar boy.” 

“Loo-you’re Catholic?” The realization hits her and she looks bewildered at her partner’s profile. Granted, she rarely thinks about anyone’s religion, but for Pratt it seems all the more confusing. He hardly seems religious by any standard. 

“I was raised Catholic,” he specifies and she nods her head, “Joey was too.” 

“Neither of you are anymore?” 

“I really can’t be bothered to give a fuck about it anymore, it is what it is, pretty sure Joey completely gave up on any of it.” 

“There’s not a lot of practicing Catholics in this area, is there?” She’s pretty sure Montana is mostly protestants. 

“No, the church in Falls End is Hope’s Catholic church, and it’s always been small. Me and Joey were damn near the only kids even.” 

Dahlia can’t help but smile, thinking of Hudson and Pratt as kids. She always had the feeling they’d known each other for a long while, both talking about Hope County like they’ve been here all their lives. Hudson is a little older, but not much, so it just makes sense that in this small a place they’d known each other as children. 

“How long have you guys known each other?”  

“We playing fifty questions or something?” 

“I’m curious!” 

“No, your turn asshole. You wanna grill me on religion and shit, you get it back.” 

“You already know how I feel about religion.” 

“I know you didn’t wanna go to church and were a weirdo about it, that’s it.” 

“Uhh,” she breathes, he’s right that it’s only fair to answer the same questions he answered for her, “my actual dad was Catholic, my mom  was Jewish, then she remarried a fundie Preacher, Pentecostal, so that’s how I was raised, unfortunately.” 

“So, you were zigzagged all over as far as that goes.” 

“Eh, I mean, before she remarried, neither my mother or dad were like devout or felt they had to raise me a certain way. Like, I think I vaguely remember getting both Christmas and Hannukah when I was three?”  She tries to pull up the fuzzy memory of when her mother, back when she was a true mother, helped her light a menorah and her dad hoisted her up to put a star on a modest Christmas tree. 

“You believe in anything nowadays.” 

“I consider myself an atheist at best.” 

“At worst?” 

“Well, if god does exist, he’s an asshole and I’d like to break his nose.” 

That gets a laugh out of Pratt and Dahlia grins, she knows it sounds silly, but it’s true. How she genuinely feels, she doesn’t think anyone is watching over them, no singular or multiple gods, but if any creator can watch idly by as everyone suffers… Not someone she’d want to be worshipping, quite frankly.  

The day winds down with little else for the deputies to do. Beyond the station windows the sky starts to turn pink, sun setting on another workday. Dahlia is fiddling with her phone, walking out of the station. 

“You coming to The Spread Eagle tonight,” Hudson asks her, “I know you haven’t really been since that asshole gave you a hard time.” 

“Oh uh, yeah, I could tag along.” Dahlia scratches at the back of her neck, feeling the heat climb up her face. She can see concern in Hudson’s olive-green eyes, which isn’t helping the blush across the young deputy’s face. 

“C’mon then, probie,” Pratt calls out, giving Dahlia a playful smack on the shoulder as he passes by. 

It’s the usual sight as Stray walks into The Spread Eagle; rock-folk music on the Jukebox tonight, couples dancing or sharing drinks, workers in flannels and dirty boots grabbing a drink after a long day. They slide into their usual seats, the youngest deputy between her two superiors, there’s a warmth to the  low lights and wood interior. Mary May’s soft smile greeting them as she serves the rest of the patrons. 

“I don't care if it rains!

Let's all go to the bar!

I don't care if there's a hurricane!

Let's all go to the bar!”

“I’ve been stuck on desk duty all day,” Hudson speaks over the music, starting the evening conversation with a groan, “so please tell me you two had something interesting happen.” 

“Suicide out at Joseph’s statue, that’s about it.” Dahlia shrugs, nothing else really of note. 

“Ugh, if I was near that statue I’d kill myself too.” 

“It gives my heebie jeebies the heebie jeebies, not gonna lie.” 

“Really, Rook, but Joseph’s your new best friend, remember?” Pratt cuts in to taunt the Junior Deputy.

“I have a finger for you.”

“You aren’t buddying up with the Seeds, are you deputy?” Mary May’s voice rings out as she sets drinks and food in front of the three officers, they hadn’t even ordered yet. Dahlia’s seen her do it with Hudson and Pratt, knowing the two deputy’s order inherently after years of routine. But it’s the first time she’s done it for Dahlia, knowing the youngest deputy’s favorite burger and soda. It’s nice and she’d love to spend a moment appreciating the coziness of it, but the weight of the bartender’s question hangs in the air. 

“No,” Dahlia assures her, though a part of her feels guilty, as if she’s compromising loyalties, “they helped me and a friend out, that’s all.” 

“Eden’s Gate doesn’t help anyone without expecting something in return, I know you’re new around here, deputy, but you need to be careful around them. They’ll do anything to have another cop wrapped around their finger.” 

“Woah woah,” Dahlia holds her hands up in mock surrender, “it was just a little favor, nothing big I promise.” 

“You don’t get it, that fami-“ 

“I think Merle is trying to flag you down for another beer,” Pratt interjects, saving Dahlia from the rest of the lecture. 

“Yeah, uh, just be careful, deputy.”  With that Mary May leaves them to serve Merle, some man with a mullet, another beer. 

“Sorry about that,” Pratt says, “forgot how weird she gets about the Seeds.” 

“Can’t blame her for it though, John Seed’s had it out for her family since they came here.” 

“I would like to change the subject.” 

“Pfft,” Pratt stifles a laugh at her blunt declaration, “alright, we can do that.” 

“Well, okay, how’d your break go?” 

“Mostly boring, other than when Pratt took me flying.” 

“You took her up in the helicopter?” Hudson asks, raising an eyebrow at the male deputy over Dahlia’s shoulder. 

“Don’t look at me like that.” 

“You seriously pulled that move on her?” 

“Shut up.” 

“Move?” 

“Pratt has a habit of bringing girls up in the helicopter, don’t you?” 

“I plead the fifth.” 

“Oh, uh, I don’t know it was fun, though.” Dahlia shrugs, she doesn’t really care if he brings other people up in the helicopter. She’s not really sure how it’s relevant or what Hudson means by it being a move; she had fun with her friend and he cheered her up. 

“Hear that, Joey, it was fun. Don’t put weird ideas in Rookie’s head. “

“Oh yeah, blame me.” 

“So, anything interesting happen at the station while I was gone?” 

“Well,” Hudson smirks, mischief in her eyes as she glances at Pratt again. 

“She doesn’t need to know about that.” 

“I think she does, the day after you went on leave-”

“I’d like to change the subject,” Pratt cuts Hudson off, mimicking Dahlia from earlier. 

“I don’t even know what the subject is yet!” The youngest deputy objects, laughing. 

“Well, a certain someone’s mom felt the need to come down to the station and let Whitehorse know just how wrong he is to put her precious son in harm’s way.” 

“Oh my god,” Dahlia says, unable to resist smiling, while Pratt’s buried his head in his hands, “your mom came to the station?” 

“Yes, yes, laugh it up.” 

“You call me a child and you have your mommy checking in on you at work?” 

“I didn’t invite her!” 

Pratt’s face is flushed bright red while Hudson and Dahlia laugh at his expense, but despite the embarrassing aspect, Dahlia can’t help but think it’s a little endearing. His mom must really love him. 

“She worry about you a lot?” Dahlia asks, core aching from laughing.

“Ugh, that’s a fuckin’ understatement.” 

 “Mama Pratt’s always been a little too worried about her baby boy,” Hudson taunts, reaching over the table to pinch at Pratt’s cheek, only for him to smack her hands away. 

“I’m sure that went over great when you went into law enforcement.” 

“She still gets furious at Whitehorse for putting us in danger.” 

“Us?” 

“She wasn’t very happy about me becoming a cop either,” Hudson admits and that makes sense, given what Pratt’s told Dahlia about them being close as kids, surely she’d be close to his mother. 

“And if she meets you, she’ll be in Whitehorse’s ear again.” 

“Huh?” 

“I can hear it now, ‘how could you put that little girl in danger, what’s wrong with you?’” Hudson tries her best to mimic Pratt’s mother, grinning at the ridiculousness of it, and despite herself…the idea of his mom doting on her the way she would Hudson. As if Dahlia could be as close to either of them, even if the idea of being seen as a vulnerable little girl is a bit patronizing. 

“Not gonna lie, I really want to meet your mom now.” 

“No.” 

“C’mon!” 

“No, not in a million years, I get enough hell from Joey and Beau, I don’t need it from you too.” 

Their conversation continues late into the evening as it so often does, just a few hours shy of staying until closing, early mornings the only thing that keeps them from staying later. Around the same time as they have every other night, they leave and say their goodbyes. Pratt and Hudson heading back to the small set of apartment housing that resides in the little town, while the youngest deputy rides back to the trailer park. 

She stops at the mailboxes, in the registration building, rows of them with their lot numbers associated with them. The printed letters for Cassie and Joseph heavy in her pocket. A part of her does feel guilty, mostly to Mary May, but it’s not as if they’re close friends and the bartender can’t expect Dahlia to avoid an entire family because of hearsay. And it’s not as if she’s joining up or spending every moment with them.  She shakes her head, stupid feelings, it’s not as if she has to choose sides. She can be thankful for the Seed’s help and still get along with Mary May. She tucks the letters inside her mailbox to be sent out then heads into her trailer, throwing herself down on her couch to sleep for the night. 

Hands on her, groping and prodding on Dahlia’s bare body. She screams and fights against them, unable to see whom they belong to, a mystery hidden by the logic of a dream. They feel different, but she sees no difference, each pair ink black as if monsters reaching from the void to defile her. They claw and grab; scratching over her ribs, locking fingers around her throat, squeezing at her thighs, and pressing over her mouth. The hands are everywhere and they smear black across her skin, smears and filth, reminders of their violation. They stain her skin, mark her flesh, and leave the aftermath of their violence on her body. 

And she fights. She kicks and she pulls, but it only spurs them to grab her more. Dahlia lashes out at the void that touches her, but it does not retreat. She bites at the ink fingers that push into her tongue, but the digits only press deeper in, sliding into her throat. 

She can’t be sure if she breaks away or they let her go, but their touch is gone, Dahlia dropping to her knees as if they were the only thing supporting her. Inky black slick across her skin where they touched her, heavy even on her tongue, finger prints within them. 

And she wretches as flowers bloom from the stains they’d left on her. Small blue flowers blossom forth bursting through the flesh of her tongue, sprouting from her throat and gagging her, soft petals falling from her lips. Those same vibrant blue flowers burst forth from her throat where she was choked. 

Red flowers bloom out from the flesh of her ribs, stacked blossoms along a single stem cutting through the tender skin, like blades. They follow the curve of the bones within her, just long beneath her breast where rough hands had torn at her skin. 

White petals, the most familiar as they recur so often and are a constant sight within the county. They grow through the plush of her thighs, not even blood or black tarnishing them as they push through her skin. They wind and weave as they come through like petal ropes around her . 

And her heart staggers a beat as a sunflower grows within it, then through her chest, a vivid yellow. Her eye burns, a pressure behind it as another great yellow bloom grows behind it, piercing the fragile membrane, blood falling from her socket, vision in the eye obscured from the flower that’s taken it’s place. 

She’s awash of yellows, blues, whites, and reds. Turned into a cruel art piece, body aching as her skin is open, her lungs choked, her heart stuttering to beat, and body protesting in agony. 

And she snaps awake, not jolting from her couch but twisting with a heavy cough, phantom tickles within her throat. She gags on something that doesn’t exist, heartbeat thundering and lungs burning. Dahlia takes a moment to gather herself, a cold sweat still clinging to her skin. Her clock informs her it’s four in the morning. 

She pushes back the hair that’s fallen into her face and lights up a cigarette, inhaling nicotine to ease her shaky body and frayed nerves. These dreams have only been getting more frequent and they’re starting to fuck with her. She can’t live with having a heart attack every other night and barely getting sleep. 

Once she’s filled her lungs with smoke, let the burning cigarette nearly singe her fingers before she tosses it out. Dahlia throws on the lights, blinking through the way it blinds her after so long of darkness, but she ignores the sleep heavy in her eyes as she grabs her drawing pad, sitting at her coffee table on the floor letting her mind lead her hand. 

Sunflowers she knows, the flower iconic enough in identity for her to know it and with the white flowers being so around the county, she could easily be able to figure out what they are. She thinks they’re called moonflowers, given the name of the trailer park and that a field of them surround them. But she sketches them out, along with the other flowers she saw. Four types of flowers on the page. She needs to get them on paper while they’re fresh in her mind. And then in the crux of them all, she draws out the layered ones from her previous dreams. 

She plans on looking them up, flowers have significance and meaning, she’s heard that before that people can plan bouquets to communicate messages. She’s never cared about flowers in her entire life, so she has no idea why on earth they’d such a recurring theme in her dreams be. 

Dahlia feels more relaxed now that she’s smoked and gotten the images of the flowers on paper. She’ll search for her answers later, after she’s gotten more sleep. Nerves and body relaxed, she curls back up on her couch, letting herself fall into a dreamless sleep. 

It’s a few hours past noon the next day, a slow day of just tickets, the young deputy’s head is against her own seatbelt. Her eyes are starting to close despite the amount of energy drinks she’s consumed. She managed to salvage a few hours of restful sleep, but not nearly enough to keep her awake through an already boring day.  Her eyelids are impossibly heavy, each blink growing longer and longer. 

“Rook!” 

“I’m awake!” Dahlia says with a jolt, Pratt’s voice and a shake of her shoulder waking her back up. 

“Are you?” Pratt asks while laughing and she pinches at the bridge of her nose, a headache coming on. 

“I didn’t sleep well last night.” 

“What were doing?” 

“Wasn’t doing nothing; just bad dream,” she tells him, shrugging. 

“Units near the Orchard please respond,” Nancy from dispatch’s voice crackles over their radio, they’re still in the Valley and maybe five minutes from the giant orchard.

“Deputy Pratt responding.”

“Debbie and Doug called in a robbery, suspect has fled the scene, but they’re still requesting an officer to file a report.” 

“We’ll be there shortly,” he hangs up the receiver, “wake up, Rookie, we have to actually work today.” 

“Maybe.” 

“Maybe,” he admits, acknowledging that it’ll likely just be an hour of talking, writing down a report, and then leaving. 

They drive past the pumpkin farm, Dahlia unable to resist smiling when she sees Boomer playing with his owners, weaving through the gourds. She’s reminded of her first day, stopping to pet the dog to dispel her own nerves. Then the apple trees filter in, bright red and shining in the light. Each tree is overflowing, a few crates out fill with the fruit, apples that have fallen on the ground. 

Pratt pulls up to the orchard’s packing facility past the market stall that advertises cider tasting. There’s a man and woman standing in front of the large open packing facility; the building painted red with green roofing, the open doors showing the crates and machines. The smell of crisp apples hits Dahlia as she gets out of the cruiser, mixing with the fresh air, she feels more awake than she was before. Rarely, but sometimes, the beauty of the county manages to lift her spirits. 

“What’s going on?” Pratt asks the couple. 

“Someone,” Debbie gives a pointed look at her husband Doug, arms crossed, “left the office key in the stall again, next thing we know, someone cleared out our safe.” 

“Hey, don’t blame me.” 

“Well who the fuck am I suppose to blame?” 

“That fuckin’ church would be a goddamn start.” 

The tension is palpable as the couple argues, body language tight and wrought with frustration. Stray can’t tell if Debbie is about to cry or scream, maybe both. Doug looks as if he’d like to rip the earth up and bury himself beneath it. 

“Everybody calm down, did anyone see anything suspicious?” 

“John fuckin’ Seed and his band of goons were here earlier, no one saw him grab the key, but no one else would have. Son of a bitch has it out for us.” 

“Alright, you wanna take me back to the office, I’ll have a look around,” Pratt asks Doug. 

“Yeah, no problem.” 

“You mind staying out here and talking to me, Debbie?” Dahlia offers, she’s not the most comforting person in the world, but the older woman clearly needs to get some stuff off her chest. 

“Yeah, I can do that.” 

Doug and Pratt go back to the office within the packing facility, leaving Dahlia alone with Debbie. 

“Lets find a place to sit down and just breathe for a minute, alright?” 

“Yeah, that sounds good,” Debbie agree and Dahlia places what she hopes to be a comforting hand on the woman’s back, guiding her into the market stall where she saw benches. 

She settles in across from Debbie, who wrings her hands together. 

“No pressure and you don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to, but if you need an ear, I’m willing to listen.” 

“Don’t even know where to start, ever since John Seed set his sights on the orchard, it’s been a nightmare.” 

“He been making life hard for you?” 

“That’s the understatement of the god damn century, that church has been buying up properties since they got here. The railyard, the old summer camp, the veterans center, the conservatory; list goes on…I use to wonder why everyone sold out to them, but I fuckin’ get it now.” 

“They’re persistent?” 

“They’re fucking heartless. Me and Doug built this place from the ground up; John Seed made an offer and we said no. Next thing we know; roads are blocked so our shipments can’t go out, they buy up the fertilizer plant and we can’t use it to help the new crops, cargo trucks are toting away product in the dead of night, and now this shit. We’ve been hemorrhaging cash ever since he set his sights on us. Got an attorney involved and all they did was charge us.”

“I’m so fucking sorry, I can’t even imagine how hard this is for you.” 

“We had a good year for crops, thought we’d break even if nothing else, then what little we got was taken. I can’t even pay my god damn workers, we’ve had to let go of folks who’ve been here for years because they couldn’t keep working for free cider.” 

The woman lets out a breath, body deflating as she finally gets everything off her chest, but her blue eyes are brimming with tears. Dahlia offers her a tissue from her pocket, not sure what else she can do, watching the woman dab at her eyes. Despite the help Joseph and his church has given to Dahlia and Cassie, this sort of behavior can’t be enabled. Theodore was stealing booze from The Spread Eagle, on the order of John Seed, when she first came here. Lonny hasn’t exactly been shy about insinuating he should just be allowed to take her motorcycle. So, it’s not far fetched to imagine them getting greedy. As ironic as it is to attach a sin to church goers. 

“They can’t do that shit.” 

“But they do, no evidence though, nothing can be done. If the cops even bother to show up, no offense, but a lot of your station ain’t doing their fucking jobs.” 

“No offense taken, I’m not gonna sit here and tell you every cops here for the right reasons. But, uh, if there’s something I can do to help, I want to.” 

“Short of a miracle, I don’t think there’s much we can do. Take John’s next offer, try to fuckin’ survive.” 

“There has to be a way for you guys to keep the orchard,” Dahlia murmurs more to herself than Debbie, at the end of it all the young deputy doesn’t have a dog in the fight. But, her heart does break for the couple and she wants to find some way to help. 

“I’m willing to try anything at this point.” 

“Ever think of doing any kind of apple festival or something? I mean people do that, sounds nicer than one for testicles.” 

“Pssh,” she laughs a little at the way Dahlia wrinkles her nose, “it’d take a lot of work to get something like that set up.” 

“I mean, do you really think the rest of the county won’t come together to help, you can do stands, have food, games, charge some money. I mean, it’s an idea.”

“We got stands for the market, don’t know if I can cook for a whole county though, if they even show.” 

“Do you think Casey or Chad would help out?” Dahlia brings up the cooks from the Spread Eagle and Grill Steak. Small communities are suppose to come together in times of crisis, that’s the hope at least. Lloyd always told her that’s what he loved about Hope County and Reinette, everyone’s willing to pitch in. 

“Maybe… Casey knows the runners of the Testy Festy too, he could help up get vendors and games set up, I…ya think we can actually do this?” 

“Way I see it, best case scenario, it gets you through the rough spot, sticks it to John Seed, and you could do it every year for an income boost. Worst case scenario, you go down swinging, having some fun,  and with friends by your side,” Dahlia tells her honestly with a shrug, she doesn’t want to give false hope, but even in worst case scenario, it’s worth it to go down swinging. 

“That’s,” she smiles, tears clearing, she looks hopeful finally, “that’s hard to argue with, you gonna help?”

“Of course, I can see about talking to Casey tonight even.” 

“Deb?” Doug’s voice calls out and the women leave the market stall, Doug and Pratt have come back from the office Pratt raises an eyebrow, eye drifting from the now happy Debbie, to Dahlia. Silently asking her what the hell happened. 

“There wasn’t anything that can pin it on anyone, no security footage or prints, sorry,” Pratt tells her. 

“I figured… Doug, me and Deputy….” she searches for Dahlia’s name only to realize she doesn’t know it, “…her have been talking, what do you think about throwing together a festival?” 

“A festival?” 

“Yeah, we could get the county together, might just be what saves this place. I…just…I don’t wanna give up yet. She said she’d help, I think, I think we can do this.” 

“We’d need to move fast and a festival take a lot of time to set up.” 

“I mean, we get enough people on board, I can’t see why we can have it ready to go by, next Friday, the 10th?” Dahlia cuts in to help, that’d give them a little over a week, short notice but not impossible. 

“You planning on helping?” 

“Of course,”Dahlia beams, but no reason she can’t volunteer some more help, she throws an arm over Pratt’s shoulder, “we’d both be happy to help anyway we can.” 

“What?” Pratt asks blankly and she just gives him a friendly smack on the chest, if he can force her into a church barbecue, she can damn well rope him into helping a local business. 

“Well then, I think next Friday could work,” Doug admits. 

“We could hold it Friday, Saturday, and Sunday. An entire weekend for everyone to come together, have some fun and maybe save this place,” Debbie tells him, smiling wide.

“Okay, lets do it.” 

“Hell yeah.” Dahlia grins, the formerly frustrated and desperate couple are now smiling bright as can be. Warmth is burning in the rookie deputy’s chest, proud that she can help them get those smiles back. 

“Yeah…well, guess I can help,” Pratt admits, still glaring at Dahlia in his peripheral, she’s just amazed he hasn’t pushed her off of him yet. 

“I’ll try to talk to Casey tonight, if the bars too busy, I’ll try tomorrow. Then I’ll get in touch with Chad, ask around about music, games, anything we could need.”

“Gotta find a way to advertise it.” 

“I’ll figure it out,” Dahlia tells them, confident she can put it together, “you guys worry about getting the orchard set up, getting food, cider, prices, and all that figured out. And if you need anything just call down to the station and ask for Rook.” 

“Thank you, seriously, both of you.” 

“No problem,” Pratt says, though there’s a sigh in his voice, “our probie here just loves to help people.” 

“Well, it is my job, speaking of which, you said the church is blocking the roads?” 

“Yeah, our trucks can’t even get a shipment out.” 

“Do you know where they’re set up?” 

“Yeah, the road that leads from Holland valley out to Missoula, if you follow it far enough, why?” 

“Public roads legally can’t be blocked,” Pratt explains for her. 

“So, we’re gonna pay them a quick visit.” 

“Thanks again, we’ll be in touch, Deputy.” 

They wave off the couple, saying their goodbyes as they climb back into the cruiser. A beat of silence passes without Pratt starting the engine. 

“What the fuck, Rook?” 

“What?” 

“You know your getting yourself into deep shit, right? Pissing off the church right after they helped you out?” 

“Them helping me out ain’t a free pass to do whatever they want. I can get along with someone and still hold them accountable for their bullshit. They have no right trying to railroad Debbie and Doug like that.” 

“And you have no right dragging me into it.” 

“You volunteered me for the fuckin’ church barbecue.” 

“That’s different.” 

“How?” 

“We were off the clock, not work hours.” 

“What about trying to pressure me into going to the Rye barbecue, while at Redlers, technically on the clock.” 

“That was also different.” 

“How?” 

“’Cause you’re the rookie and I’m allowed to be mean to you.” 

“No, that is not how that works!” 

“Is too, the entire point of hiring rookie cops is to hassle them, you don’t get to hassle back.” 

“Well, too bad, fucker we’re throwing an apple festival.” 

“Jesus christ.” 

“It’ll be fun.” 

“It’ll be a pain in my ass,” he says, grumbling as he starts the engine, taking off out of the orchard. 

Dahlia sticks her tongue out at him as they wind through the roads. Apple trees become the usual firs and pines, road signs starting to indicate they’re in route to Missoula. The young deputy watches the woods pass by, where the trees meet the blue sky, farmland occasionally breaking the landscape with cows meandering around. 

It’s not long before they come to a stop and sure enough, large slabs of concrete are across the roadway. White trucks bearing the Eden’s Gate symbol are slotted behind them, black flags with the symbol in white stream from the back, and sturdier white vans are nearby as well. Members of the church are gathered there, woman with overgrown hair and men with hairy faces, a few she recognizes. All looking at the stopped cruiser with some measure of anger or worry. 

“Hey, deputy,” it’s Waylon who greets Dahlia, smiling at her, “what seems to be the issue?” 

“Your blocking public roads,” Pratt is the one to answer. 

“Oh, see the thing if, the church is having some property worked on nearby. So, we really can’t have anyone driving through here, it’s temporary of course.” 

“You can’t do that, though,” Dahlia explains, “if you need to fence off private property, you need to do it along the property line. Unless you have permission from the state, you cannot block public road access.” 

“Deputy please, surely you understand.” 

“Waylon,” she puts a hand on his shoulder, “you know we get along and I don’t have anything against the church, but blocking the road affects everyone else. If you really need roads blocked off, you need to contact the right people and get permits first, okay?” 

“Understood.” 

“Okay, then, just clear out and everything will be fine.” 

He doesn’t seem happy, none of the church members do, but that’s the rules. She can’t even understand why’d they ever need to block the roads, if she didn’t know any better she’d think they were trying to keep people from leaving. 

They drive the trucks and vans away; Dahlia and Pratt even helping move the concrete blockades off the road. Why do they even have those? 

There’s still a sour note in the air once the block is cleared and the deputies have pulled away. She hates this weird back and forth; the church helping her but then doing something that gives her reason to doubt them. Wanting to be their friend but needing to put her foot down; wanting them and both the people who hate them to like her. Torn between the two as well as her child; like an unfortunate child in the midst of their parent’s divorce and she’s being forced to choose one. 

It’s getting close to evening, when they pull up to the station to put in the report. The usual folks are in the bullpen, Hudson working at her computer with a mug of coffee and Brennan at his desk as well. The faces she’s come to know the best outside of Pratt. He plops himself down into his chair at his desk and Dahlia decides to grab another energy drink from the kitchen first.

She’s managed to rummage through the collection of tana cola bottle to find it, cracking it open with a yawn as she leaves the kitchen. 

“…it wouldn’t have been so bad if Rook didn’t volunteer me for some bullshit.” 

“Don’t be so fucking dramatic.” 

“Jesus fuck,” Pratt jolts in his chair, nearly toppling it over, “that’s it, we’re getting you a god damn bell!” 

“Didn’t know you were into that, Staci,” Brennan says with a snicker. 

“Shut up.” 

“Oh, please, no one’s buying it,” Hudson says, rolling her eyes. 

“There’s nothing to buy, Rook is an annoying shit, who just grabbed me and volunteered me for bullshit.” 

“You’re such a baby.” 

Dahlia reaches out and flicks his ear, laughing when Pratt grabs her hand, fingers intertwining as he tries to push her back. She brings her other hand up, trying to reach out and flick him with her other hand.  But he grabs it in the same way, the two pushing against each other, both grinning like children. She’s not even sure what the goal is and Pratt probably doesn’t either. But then his office chair wheels slide back from the force and she’s found a goal, pushing Pratt across the room. No particular reason for it other than the idea of watching him sail across the bullpen makes her giggle.  But he won’t let go of her hands enough that she can push him without him dragging her too. 

“The hell are you two doing?” Whitehorse’s voice booms out when he walks in to see the two deputies horsing around. 

“Being idiots.” 

“I don’t know, looks like flirting to me.” 

Hudson’s insult and Brennan’s teasing makes red flush up the two bickering deputy’s cheeks. They’re technically holding hands and leaning into each other’s personal space, Dahlia realizes. Pratt suddenly drops her hands, jolting away as if her skin has burnt his, and pushing his chair away from her. Nearly toppling over a trashcan in his haste. 

“Yeah why the hell you holding my hand, Rookie?”

“You grabbed my hand first, asshole!” 

“No, I didn’t.” 

“Yes, you did.” 

“You did.” 

“You absolutely did.” 

Hudson and Brennan agree with Dahlia, Pratt’s face going from pink to scarlet. Whitehorse rolls his eyes, no doubt questioning his hiring decisions. How any of them still have jobs is a mystery, except Hudson. 

“How’d things go at the orchard?” The sheriff asks, adjusting his cowboy hat. He really does look like such a stereotype. 

“We couldn’t find any evidence of who broke into the office, they grabbed the key, so I told Doug he should look into changing the locks and investing in some security cameras. They’re dead set on it being John or someone with the church though,” Pratt explains, rolling his chair back up to his desk. 

“You know it was,” Brennan scoff, “damn church is destroying the whole county.” 

“Now, now, you can’t go making accusations without evidence, I just hope Debbie and Doug can bounce back.” 

Dahlia doesn’t miss the roll of Brennan’s eyes and the sneer on his lips, he doesn’t like Eden’s Gate or Whitehorse’s attitude towards them it seems. She’s rarely seen the officer without a smile, but lips curled and leg bouncing, he seems a moment away from flipping the desk in front of him. 

“Well, if Rook’s plan works, they’ll do fine.” 

“Your plan?” Whitehorse looks at her with a raised eyebrow; her fellow deputies and Brennan all look at her expectantly as well. She scratches at the back of her neck, skin prickling at the attention. 

“Oh, uh…well, I figured they could do like an apple festival, be fun for the county and help raise some money for ‘em.” 

“That the plan you were bitching about, Pratt?” Brennan raises an eyebrow at him. 

“It’s a pain in the ass and the Seed family is gonna be pissed.” 

“So, apple pie and pissing off the Seeds, I’m fuckin’ sold,” Brennan sticks his fist out to Dahlia and she bumps her knuckles to his, grinning, “anything I can help with, just say the word.” 

“Seriously, see why can’t you be my partner?” 

“Hey, rude.” 

“’Cause we’d never get Pratt to stop whining about it.” 

“What the hell, you’re suppose to be on my side, Beau.” 

“I don’t remember agreeing to that.” 

“I’m willing to help out too if I can,” Hudson cuts in between the banter, eyes soft, “I still remember going apple picking there with my family, I don’t wanna see Doug and Debbie lose that place.” 

“Yeah…that place has a lot of memories for everyone,” Pratt admits, hazel eyes deepening with nostalgia. 

“Still remember the first year you came with us,” Hudson grins, “Mark tried to lift you up to grab an apple and you just started sobbing.” 

“Your brother was trying to kill me and I stand by that,” Pratt smiles as he pretends to defend himself. 

“When are Deb and Doug planning on having the festival?” Whitehorse asks Dahlia. 

“Aiming for the next Friday, the 10th, they wanna see if they can do it the whole weekend too.” 

“Lot of work to get done if that’s gonna happen.” 

“I know, I’m planning on talking to Casey as soon as I can. See if he’ll help cook and if there’s any testy festy supplies or vendors he can help with.” 

“Mary May has a live band that plays once a week, they might be willing to play,” Hudson offers. 

“Think they’d work cheap or free? I’d hate to stiff anyone and I’ll pay whatever I have too out of my own pocket, but the last thing we want is the festival costing more than it makes,” Dahlia explains, leaning against the wall as she talks it out. 

“If they’re not willing to work any or all of it, we could always talk to Wheaty too.” 

“Wheaty?” 

“Kid who lives up North,” Brennan points in the general North direction, “he’s been obsessed with starting a radio station for years, he’ll basically DJ anything for free just to show off his vinyl collection.” 

“That could work too.” 

“Addie would probably help with money for it, honestly, just throw some advertisements up for the Marina.” 

“Hell, if me and Staci ask her, she’d probably do it anyway,” Brennan gives a wide toothy smile. 

“Gross, but true.” 

“Didn’t Grace use to do those shooting competitions at fairs and shit, letting people pay to try and outshoot her?” 

“Yeah,” Hudson nods to Pratt’s suggestion, “she hates the attention, but if it’s for a good cause I’m sure she’d do it.” 

“I don’t think the Fowler brothers would bring Cheeseburger, since they gotta watch what he eats, but they might be willing to bring down some animals for people to see.” 

“Hell, if we could convince Rae Rae to bring Boomer; people will show up just get a picture of him.” 

“Pie eating contest would draw people in too.” 

“Lorna would probably make pasties for it if we asked.” 

Dahlia can’t help but grin at all the ideas and suggestions; a fire seemingly ignited in everyone. There’s a warmth in her chest and a swelling sense of pride that she could get everyone on board. The orchard means a lot to the county, not just Debbie and Doug. And she may actually be able to save it. 

“Woah woah, hold on now,” Whitehorse calls out and Dahlia stiffens, this technically isn’t police work, “is anyone writing all this down? Not gonna do anyone a lick of good if we forget something.” 

He smiles, blue eyes soft as Hudson grabs a piece of paper, writing down the ideas that’ve been said so far. Whitehorse is giving his stamp of approval and that pride in her chest only swells bigger, thumping against her ribs and making her smile widen. 

“Rook.” 

“Yes, sheriff?” 

“As long as you keep an ear to your radio, don’t see any reason you can’t work on some of this during work, alright?” 

“Yeah, absolutely.” 

“Good, Debbie and Doug deserve the best and we’re damn well gonna give it to ‘em, that’s an order.” 

The sheriff ruffles her hair before he leaves and her face hurts from smiling so much. She pulls up a chair to the desk, sitting with Hudson, Pratt, and Brennan as they keep working on ideas. All four stay past their shift hours; scribbling down all possible ideas, who they should reach out to and who should be the one to talk to them. Dahlia smiling the entire time as they talk late into the evening. 

[telli1206]

You’re So Fine, You Blow My Mind (Part 4)

Tourney player Jay is smitten with the new cheerleader, and Evie and Mal help get them together.

Click here for Part 1: Jay

Click here for Part 2: Mal

Click here for Part 3: Evie

Part 4: Carlos

Carlos doesn’t have much time for dating. With his rigorous academic schedule, cheer practice and games, as well as the tutoring he squeezes in for extra cash, his free time is, well, sparce, to say the least. Dating is an activity he can easily put on the backburner while he focuses his attention on more...important things.

That’s not to say he doesn’t get asked out on dates. He’s aware that he’s at least somewhat attractive. Cheerleading keeps him fit and toned, and he’s gotten his fair share of compliments on his brown doe eyes and bright smile. And based on his initial impressions, the attention his looks garnered at his old school would likely continue at Auradon Prep.

As a matter of fact, he was asked out the first day he set foot on campus.

Aziz had given him his tour, and after seeing the campus, the classrooms, and finally, his room, the boy had offered to show Carlos around the city that night too, after he got settled in. And maybe after seeing the sights...they might see the backseat of his car, he had offered with a suggestive wink.

But these conceited jocks were all the same, and Carlos had become a master at the polite decline, careful not to bruise their tender egos. He easily scooted away from Aziz and his overly cocky grin, apologizing and blaming his already busy schedule. He suggested revisiting the idea once he had time to acclimate, and though Aziz was taken aback at the refusal, the hint at future potential kept him intact and smiling when he left. 

The boys that showed interest in Carlos were all the same, really. Types just like Aziz. The hot, boastful athletes, too obsessed with the game, and themselves, to bother with any kind of meaningful relationship. They could offer Carlos nothing more than a fun time and to be their ultimate accessory as they worried about silly things like their popularity, how their hair looked and the number of friends they had. Carlos found it easy to say no to boys like that. 

But Jay was...different. Intriguing. 

He didn’t want to mention it when they first met, but Carlos had caught a glimpse at Jay’s...less than stellar performance at practice the previous day. He had to stifle his laughter a few times when he saw him - the boy could barely manage to stay on his feet! He definitely did not look like the “star player” all the cheerleaders fawned about when someone would mention the infamous Jay.

But Carlos was still impressed with him. Despite all the setbacks, Jay had simply cursed his luck and kept going, too determined to let a bad practice stop him. Carlos has seen more than a few tourney players throw a fit or pout like immature babies when they think they look bad, so the fact that the dark haired boy refused to quit, or even complain, definitely caught Carlos’ attention.

Well, that, and he was pretty fucking handsome. There’s just no denying that. (Trailing his fingers along smooth, tanned skin, or running them through silky locks may have already crossed Carlos’ mind once or twice).

And that’s why, even though he’s not usually that forward, Carlos decided to call  his plans with Jay...a date. It just, seemed right to him in the moment, and he decided to go with it. Why not? Jay’s sweet, shy behavior was so endearing, and it made Carlos feel empowered and bold to be the one to bring up the idea of a date between them. 

And when Jay tried to hide his bright flush and wide smile when Carlos uttered the word, he only felt that much more excited to spend time with the jock, to get a chance to know him better.

----

Their dinner at Auradon City Grille had been quiet, but not uncomfortable. Carlos was mainly responsible for keeping the conversation going, randomly dropping questions between bites of his veggie burger, a still timid Jay picking at his fries quietly as he responded. The intermittent light chatter was smattered through soft smiles and breathy laughter as they ate and revelled in each other’s company.

Carlos thoroughly enjoyed talking to Jay. His knowledge of the tourney team’s stats, plays and strategies was interesting, and his passion for the game was alight in his eyes and occasional lively hand gestures, which made Jay thrilling to watch when he talked about it. And when conversation drifted to cheerleading, Carlos felt warm under Jay’s attention, the boy staring at him in awe and hanging onto his every word as Carlos detailed the dance routines and cheers he was already working on with Evie, and their plans to unveil a new routine at the next game.

“So, you can really do a back handspring?” Jay’s eyes are wide and fixed on Carlos as they get up to leave, pausing to drop some cash on the table.

Carlos nods as he stands, throwing in a tiny shrug.

“Once you nail it the first time it’s actually pretty easy.”

“I’m not sure about that,” Jay chuckles. “Either way, I’m impressed. You’ve got some real skill, De Vil.”

Carlos smiles warmly, looking away briefly when he feels the heat rise in his cheeks. They walk slowly, bumping shoulders lightly as they make their way out of the restaurant and onto the sidewalk.

Carlos stops suddenly once they step outside. He cranes his neck to look down each side of the street, trying to spot their next stop.

Jay turns his body towards Carlos, crowding him a little as he places a wide palm on the small of his back. Carlos straightens up slightly, feeling a jolt up his spine at the gentle touch. Jay leans closer to Carlos’ face. stretching his arm across his body to point across the street.

“Mrs. Pott’s is right over there,” he breathes calmly. “That is, if you’re still interested in grabbing a cupcake. Chocolate right?”

Carlos’ smile lights up his face. “Yes! Of course I’m still interested. I’ve been thinking about that cupcake all day,” he replies with a giggle.

Jay rubs at the back of his neck, turning his face away slightly. “Well, I’ve been thinking about something, or someone, else all day.”

His words take a few seconds to register, but when they finally do, Carlos’ expression turns coy as he leans in to nudge Jay on the shoulder.

“Oh stop it,” he teases. “You’re such a charmer, aren’t you?”

Jay snickers softly, avoiding Carlos’ eyes. “You have no idea.”

“Oh, I don’t? So what are you saying? You charm everyone more than you do me?” Carlos asks, quirking a brow.

Before he can answer, they reach Mrs. Pott’s Coffee & Tea. Jay silently steps forward to pull the door open, and Carlos grins at him as he steps inside, Jay’s hand returning to the small of his back to guide Carlos to the front to order.

Once their cupcakes and coffee are decided on and paid for, Jay and Carlos claim a booth in the back, Carlos scooting in with Jay close behind. Their eyes meet for a moment before a flustered Jay has to look away again.

“I-I...th-thought-” He starts to stutter, slowly stumbling over his words. Even sitting next to Jay, Carlos has to strain a little to hear his faint mutterings.

Jay stops, and takes a deep breath, sighing it out loudly. “-I, thought, I was smooth. A flirt. You’re not the first to...call me a-a...charmer.”

He starts fidgeting with the ends of his hair, twirling it between his fingers as he braves a glance at Carlos. Carlos’ lips are perked into a tiny smile, but there’s confusion in his eyes, and his head is tilted as he studies Jay.

“But I’m just, I’m a mess,” he sighs, a tinge of sadness in his tone. “I’m sorry if I ruined your night.”

Carlos reaches over and covers Jay’s hand with his own, caressing it gently as he offers a sweet smile. Jay smiles back, timid, but eyes sparkling with hope.

"You’re not ruining anything, I’m having a great time. Thank you for showing me downtown Auradon. I think I’m really going to like it here.”

Carlos’ eyes crinkle with delight when he notices Jay’s pinking cheeks. They share a smile for a moment, but are interrupted when steaming cups of coffee and sparkling cupcakes are placed down in front of them.

“Now I know I’m going to like it here,” Carlos exclaims happily, lifting the frothy whipped chocolate confection up close to his face. He swipes his finger across the frosting, picking up a few glitter sprinkles along the way, and quickly sucks the finger into his mouth, pulling it out from between his pursed lips with a quiet pop.

He dares a peek at Jay, and grins smugly at the success of his action. Jay’s pink has burned to a deep red on his face, eyes widened in suprise.

Carlos keeps the smile on his face as he turns back to his dessert to take an actual bite. He can’t hide a tiny moan of pure joy that escapes him at the rich sweetness of the chocolate on his tongue. 

But before he can dive in for more, a loud chortle stops him in his tracks. Jay’s pointing at Carlos/ face, his own mouth dusted with white vanilla frosting and purple glitter. A tiny chunk of frosting sits on one corner of his mouth.

“Are you trying to douse your face in chocolate? I think you missed a spot,” he jokes, pointing at a spot on Carlos’ chin.

Carlos perks his eyebrows at Jay, and takes a long swipe across his lips with his tongue. Jay swallows audibly, eyes fixed on Carlos’ mouth.

“You might need a mirror, you’re not doing much better than me,” he giggles, waving at Jay’s face.

In a sudden, impulsive move, Carlos decides to bring a finger to Jay’s cheek, scooping the stray frosting off the corner of his mouth. He darts out his tongue, slowly dragging across the digit to clean away the excess dessert. His eyes never leave Jay’s as he hums his approval.

“Hmm. Not gonna lie, the vanilla is pretty good too. Thanks for letting me have a taste,” he says, throwing a flirty wink.

Jay straightens his back, smiling wider than ever, with a mischeivous glint in his eye.

“Well what about you? Aren’t you going to share with me then?”

Before Carlos can respond, Jay’s bringing him closer with a hand at the back if his neck. Their lips brush softly, and Jay dips down to pull Carlos’s bottom lip between his teeth, sucking on it lightly. Carlos breathes a faint whimper at the sensation, letting his eyes slip shut as Jay pulls away.

“Was that, ok?” He asks, searching Carlos’ face, his eyes popping back open at Jay’s words.

“Yes,” Carlos replies, too dazed and happy to think of more words.

Jay snickers, drawing his hand from Carlos’ neck to thumb away some more frosting on his cheek.

“Would it...be safe to say...that I’ll be getting a second date?”

Carlos grins brightly. “Depends. Are you going to man up and actually do the asking this time?” He laughs, shoving Jay playfully in the chest.

Jay grabs at Carlos’ hand before he can withdraw it, pressing it between both of his palms as he smiles.

“You better fucking believe I will.”

[minghaos-pet]

unusual seventeen date ideas

zoolA/N: I’m posting these to fill in the space while I finish chapters for my fics. These ideas came from a ritalin-fueled afternoon so they are NOT intended to be serious. I definitely do not see any of the members engaging in these types of activities so, again, none of this is serious

Warnings: criminal activity, theft, “”borrowing””, mentions of drugs (no drug use), pyramid schemes, some softness and fluff, brief mentions of police (acab), mentions of trash, mentions of food, heights

stealing bikes with seungcheol

seungcheol would pick you up precisely at 5am from outside your house, he would drive you through some quiet suburban neighborhoods (so romantique) and you'd pick off any bikes, trikes, and (if you're really lucky) electric scooters you find sitting outside the pristine homes of the neighborhood. Then you both would spend the whole day at the local park having fun and trading the bikes you stole to kids for their drones, ice cream cones, lunch money, whatever you want! the options are limitless when you're stealing bikes with seungcheol.

dumpster diving with jeonghan

your dates with jeonghan usually consisted of going out to fancy restaurants and getting something to eat, most definitely in multiple courses. "let's try something different," jeonghan suggested when you popped the nightly question of what do you want to eat. Much to your surprise and delight, jeonghan drove you in his 2014 white honda civic to applebee's, one of your favorite establishments. "are we getting potato skins?" "haha," he chuckled with a light behind his eyes, "something like that." he parked behind the building and opened the door for you, leading you to the dumpsters. before you could process what was going on. jeonghan had whipped the dumpster lid open and was scaling the side of the structure.  you spent the rest of the evening going from place to place, scoring new makeup palettes and other goodies. needless to say, it was amazing how many potato skins your local applebee's threw out everyday.

squatting in abandoned buildings with joshua

joshua was the sweetest, most thoughtful boyfriend you could ever ask for. he was constantly waiting on you hand and foot and taking you on lavish vacations. however, you were growing tired of trips to dubai and paris, and wanted to go on a more rugged, adventure vacation. you brought it up to him and he smiled at you, reading your mind. two weeks later, joshua surprised you with an uber ride to the nearest abandoned Kmart in your town, giddy with excitement, you found that he had already bolt-cut the padlock on the expansive automatic doors. You spent the night walking up and down the aisles before going up to the roof. unfortunately, the door to the roof locked automatically, trapping you on top of the kmart.  you and joshua spent the rest of your stay pointing out constellations and falling asleep under the stars before crafting a makeshift rope out of your own clothes to get down the building.

climbing things with jun

jun was a man of many hobbies and recreations, and climbing was one of them. every thursday and sunday night junhui would shake you out of bed and drag you to the nearest climbable structure. ladders, fences, even flights of stairs that led to god-knows-where. one sunday night, jun with excitement and anticipation coursing through his veins, he woke you up and ran out of bed so fast he barely had time to put on his shoes, not even noticing that he was wearing his old gucci slides on the wrong feet. "i have a good feeling about this one," he assured you while you ran through the night, finally approaching a cellular tower. without warning, jun began to climb and climb and climb, leaving you scrambling to get your foothold on the tower. once at the top, jun held your hand while you shivered against the wind. "y/n, look!" he shouted and pointed frantically at the ocean before you. "what is it?" "let's find out." wading through the ocean together, you struggled to keep up with his freestyle swimming towards your next target. it was an oil rig. oh junhui, you thought and smiled, what a character. you came back to the rig every thursday and sunday night, that is, before you were arrested by the coast guard, of course. classic junhui.

zoological warfare with soonyoung

it was no secret that soonyoung loved (and you mean loved) tigers. tiger stuffed animals filled your couches, bed, and dining room chairs; tiger paintings custom commissioned and worth thousands adorned your walls, and tiger videos from animal planet and other sources played night and day on your 100 inch television. Soonyoung cultivated his appreciation for the big cat by playing Zoo Tycoon on his laptop, so much that you practically had to rip the mouse out of his hand and threatened to burn the fifteen year old cd-rom. "soonyoungie," you cooed one afternoon, "i have a better idea than playing zoo tycoon..." immediately his eyes darkened, he knew exactly what you were talking about. You'd been to the zoo so many times before, but this time was different. While Soonyoung oohed and awwed at the tigers in their habitat, you reminded him of the real reason why you were at the zoo that late afternoon. Wire cutters in hand you were quick to disable the motion sensors and electric fences surrounding the enclosure. His deliciously built muscles strained while he pulled open the large fence, "you're free now," he whispered to himself. you both ran out of the habitat and back into the more populated areas of the zoo. words can't describe the elation soonyoung felt while he watched his favorite animals prance into the crowd, finally able to be their true selves.

recreating fahrenheit 451 with wonwoo

wonwoo loved his books more than anything else in his life, except, of course, you. he was halfway through his favorite book when the thought hit him like a ton of bricks. i have to recreate this with y/n, he thought to himself. He read for a couple more hours--not wanting to lose the plot of his favorite dystopian novel--before seeking you out. "y/n," he patted the top of your head lightly, "have you ever read fahrenheit 451?" "of course," you replied, smiling at your silly boyfriend, "we all had to read it in high school." not twenty minutes later were you and wonwoo elbows deep in the pile of books you had stacked in the middle of the alley by your apartment.

scalping concert tickets with jihoon

jihoon was a master producer, everyone knew it. The only thing he loved more than producing was making money, and you and your determined boyfriend were constantly jumping from one side-hustle to another. One of jihoon’s favorite side-hustles was printing fake concert tickets and selling them at the same venues he performed at. It was a two-in-one package, he used to tell you when you were hesitant about the legalities of such a practice. He’d sell tickets for hundreds, sometimes thousands, of dollars, a few hours before a performance and then he’d run inside, get ready, and perform himself! After a while, you stopped noticing the angry crowds that would gather outside the venues during shows and you let yourself enjoy the show from backstage surrounded by a heavy stack of cash. The best part was, you didn’t have to pay taxes on it!

Jihoon could do a number of jobs all at once, from starting etsy stores to mowing lawns for a couple extra dollars, but by far this was his favorite technique. With the money he made he could buy you the extravagances you deserved.

joining an MLM with seokmin

Seokmin was all about the newest, greatest thing. When Jihoon came by one day and told him all about his experience selling essential oils at house parties, seokmin was instantly hooked on the prospect. It took you a little bit of convincing, but after watching your boyfriend steal the show with suburban housewives at the parties he hosted, you knew you had to support him in every way you could. It took a second mortgage on your house and two paycheck advancements, but you were able to build up enough stock of essential oils from the headquarters to fill up your spare room. Party after party you and Seokmin gave out samples after samples, freebies galore, but you were never able to fully deplete the millions of bottles of clove oil and the blends seokmin swore would make you both rich. Even though you never broke even, you loved your new life with seokmin. You had to sell your house and live out of a mini-van you found abandoned on the highway, but it gave you and seokmin a great supply of #VanLife instagram posts.

grand theft auto with mingyu

Dating mingyu was always thrilling and there was always something exciting happening whenever you were together. Tonight was no different, as mingyu promised you that he was taking you out to get a new car. You were ecstatic, having only dated mingyu three and a half weeks, it was a little soon for such extravagant gifts like a whole car, but you weren’t one to complain and you certainly did not want to hurt his feelings.

The music blared loudly while you flew down the freeway in the new drop-top audi Mingyu got for you. You were a little worried when the car dealer insisted on coming with you for the test drive, but Mingyu’s charm and quick thinking, the dealer was nothing to worry about. Mingyu turned the radio up even higher when the sirens approached, adding to the thrill of the night.

“The lights make you look so pretty,” Mingyu fawned from the driver’s seat, “we should do this more often.”

You turned around to look behind you, the wind chapping your lips and whipping your hair, smiling. 

you’ve always wanted a police escort.

borrowing from designer stores with minghao

minghao's sense of style was unparalleled, and being his significant other, you were privy to plenty of style and fashion advice. not that you minded, of course, because minghao would usually get so fed up with your disastrous outfits that he would let you wear his own clothes to save time and hassle. "y/n," minghao sighed after watching you put layer three jackets on top of each other, "we're going shopping. I'm going to teach you how to buy clothes." the places minghao shopped were unbelievable; while you usually bought your clothes off of Wish and Aliexpress, minghao was a well-known regular at versace, hermes, louis vuitton, and every other designer you could think of. your minimum wage paycheck could in no way sponsor these purchases, so you were completely reliant on minhao for these types of shopping trips. once in gucci, minghao pulled his bucket hat lower, covering his eyes and instructing you to do the same. he swung around the large umbrella he carried with him to the shops (confusing since it was not raining), and you watched him drop item after item into the half opened umbrella. astonished and amazed, you grabbed a wallet off of the shelf and attempted to pocket it discretely, but were caught by security. You watched as minghao left the store while you were being interrogated by the mall security. Lucky for you, you were able to get away safely and caught up with minghao to grab a pretzel before leaving the mall.

hitchhiking to jeju with seungkwan

there wasn't a day that went by when seungkwan didn't miss home: the tangerine groves, the crisp sea air, and Hallasan mountain. on one of his routine pining sessions, you had the brightest idea you'd had in a very long time, it was your chance to finally go on a much needed trip with Seungkwan to the place he loved most. You whipped out yours and his favorite and most reliable tennis shoes, grabbed a bottle of water to share, and set on your way. Despite the heat and exhaustion, seungkwan was overjoyed to be on his way to Jeju, especially to be able to go there with you and show you his old stomping grounds. As you both walked, thumbs out, you found refuge in a few nice strangers' cars. Seungkwan loved the economical nature of your trip and you loved the fact that you got to spend it with him.

cult-hopping with vernon

vernon had some...interesting hobbies and past-times, but being his significant other you loved to share these moments with him, even if they were a little strange at moments. something that vernon had always, and he meant  a l w a y s wanted to do was something he called "cult-hopping" where the two of you would spend a few months to a year joining cult after cult just to understand and learn the ins-and-outs of each organization before leaving and moving onto the next one. For the first few weeks, the experience was painfully slow, but after you'd moved on to your fourth (or was it fifth?) cult, you began to develop the understand and appreciation for it that vernon always hoped you would. You drank kool-aid, had communal baths, and even shared in some unusual choices of meals. It warmed your heart t be able to spend this much needed time with vernon, and he was happy to learn more about cults.

drug trafficking with chan

airports were your absolute favorite place, something about them made you feel so comforted and at home. with chan there to hold your hand through security and sew up secret pockets in your luggage, it felt extra special. you weren't new to the drug trafficking scene, and found it as a lovely way to make some extra money when funds were tight; although chan was definitely not in need of money due to his idol career, he still loved to see what you did best. He watched a few youtube tutorials and already he was a pro at getting through security and past the drug dogs. You marveled at how chan even bent down to pet a few of the canine officers, amazed at his composure throughout the whole process. If things went well this trip, you knew that your boss would ask him to join the ranks, meaning you and chan could fly, take trains, and travel whenever and wherever you wanted.

[thatmadhatter]

How to Order at Starbucks

This was supposed to be a reply to someone who asked for help ordering at Starbucks. But it’s way too long for a reply, so I’ve done a whole ass post.

I know how overwhelming ordering at Starbucks can be, partially because there are so many menu items. I'm gonna break down the menu a bit and then walk through how to order step by step. Any questions, don't hesitate to ask! I was a barista for over 3 years, as well as a supervisor, and I am a teacher, so I very genuinely don't mind explaining drinks or anything.

Drink Menu Breakdown:

Sizes:

Hot drinks come in 4 sizes.

Short= 8oz, which is teeny tiny.

Tall= 12oz AKA Small.

Grande= 16oz AKA Medium.

Venti= 20 oz AKA Large.

Cold drinks come in

Tall= 12oz aka Small.

Grande=16oz AKA Medium.

Venti=24oz AKA Large.

And *SOME* cold drinks can also be a Trenta=30oz AKA Extra Large. The drinks that can come in Trenta are refreshers, cold brew, iced coffee, and iced teas. Frappuchinos and espresso drinks (think an iced latte or iced americano) cannot come in a trenta.

Core Drinks (these should be carried year round at all locations.)

Latte - Espresso and milk. This can be made hot or iced and with or without flavor.  This can also be made decaf. A very common drink is a vanilla latte. I love a good caramel latte myself

Americano - Espresso and water. This can also be made hot or iced. You can add milk or flavor to your hearts content to jazz it up if you want. This can also be made decaf. I love an iced blonde americano on a day where I need an extra kick.

Cappuccino - Espresso, milk, and milk foam. Typically this is a hot only drink, however last year Starbucks started doing iced cappuccino’s. Personally I never liked them. A cappuccino can be made ‘wet’ which means with less foam, or ‘dry’ which means made with more foam. There is no such thing as a cappuccino with no foam, that is a latte. This can be made decaf.

Caramel Macchiato - Classic Starbucks drink, can be made hot or iced. This can also be made decaf. Vanilla syrup, milk, espresso, and caramel drizzle.

Iced Coffee - Only comes iced. The barista should ask if you want this sweetened. It automatically comes with sweetener, which is called classic syrup. You can substitute any flavor you want in this though. This is made using a special blend of coffee that is brewed and then poured over ice. This cannot be made decaf.

Cold Brew - Only comes iced. This is made using a 20 hour steeping process, which is why it has a smoother, stronger flavor. That’s also why it’s a little more expensive and why when a store runs out, they’re often out for the rest of the day. This cannot be made decaf.

Frappuccino - Only comes blended/iced. These come in all sorts of flavors and colors. They can also be made with or without caffeine. If you ever want a caffeine free Frappuccino, just ask for a *flavor* Creme Frappuccino.

Refreshers - Only comes iced. They’re basically caffeinated fruity drinks, similar to an energy drink. You may have heard of the “Pink Drink” which is a strawberry refresher made with coconut milk. I’m allergic to coconut milk, so I can’t speak as to if it’s good or not, but I know it’s very popular. This cannot be made decaf.

Hot chocolate: Mocha, Vanilla, and Milk! Can only be made hot. You can also order a white hot chocolate, which is made with white mocha instead of the regular mocha. This is caffeine free.

Hot Coffee- If you come in the early to mid morning, a barista may ask you what roast of coffee you want. There are three options, blonde, Pike (aka Medium) or dark. Blonde is the most caffeinated, and will have a very mild flavor. Pike is the standard coffee every Starbucks carries at all times. Dark will be an intense coffee flavor, usually leaning more towards the bitter and very full bodied taste.

Cafe Misto: Also called a cafe au lait. Typically this is only made hot, it’s half coffee and half steamed milk.

Chai Latte: Chai concentrate and milk. Can be made hot or iced. Cannot be made decaf. 

Green Tea Latte: Matcha and Milk. Can be made hot or iced. Cannot be made decaf. I personally don’t care for the iced version as the matcha doesn’t mix super well with cold liquid, but a lot of people do like it.

Iced Teas: There are 4 core iced teas, Black, Green, White, and Passion. The Passion tea is the only one without caffeine, but there isn’t much in the white tea. They can all be made with or without lemonade. The barista should ask if you want this sweetened. It automatically comes with sweetener, which is called liquid cane sugar.

Modifications:

One overwhelming part of Starbucks is the sheer number of ways a drink can be modified. You’ve seen that already with just the drink breakdown. This further breaks down some ways drinks can be modified.

Hot or Iced

Espresso Modification: Drinks that are made with espresso can be made 1 of 3 ways. With the signature espresso, which is the default of most espresso drinks. You don’t need to specify this. Blonde espresso, which has a little more caffeine but a milder flavor. Or Decaf espresso, which contains no caffeine. You can also vary the number of shots in a drink. If you ask for more shots, the drink will be more expensive.

Flavor: There are many many flavor options. The core flavors are - Vanilla, Caramel, Mocha, White Mocha, Hazelnut, Toffee Nut, Peppermint, Raspberry, Sugar Free Vanilla, and Sugar Free Mocha. Then there are whatever seasonal syrups are available, which can vary depending on stocks and the time of year. You can also vary the number of pumps in a drink if you want. There is no charge for extra pumps of syrup if the syrup is already in the drink. Most drinks will have a surcharge for additional syrups though.

Milk: The milk options are skim, 2%, whole, half and half (aka cream), whipping cream, soy, coconut, almond, and Starbucks is in the process of doing oat milk as well. In a drink where milk is the main ingredient, such as a latte, there will be a charge for an alternative milk such as soy. However there isn’t a charge for skim, 2%, or whole. When a drink comes with milk, unless otherwise specified, it will automatically be made with 2%.

How to Order at Starbucks

There are three different methods to ordering at Starbucks. I’ll break each of them down.

Drive Through: There’s often a line. You’ll get in line and pull up to a speaker box. Typically the barista will greet you with something like B: “Thank you for choosing Starbucks. What can I get started for you?” Y: “Hi, can I get a *hot or iced* *size* *name of drink* with *any modifications* The barista will either repeat your drink back to you, or ask if you want anything else. You can add more drinks or food, or let them know that is all. The barista will usually give you a total and have you proceed forward. At the window, you’ll pay for your items. You can pay with cash, card, or the mobile app (which we’ll get to). The barista in the window will sometimes still be waiting for your drinks/good to be made. Try to be friendly and patient, odds are they’ve been yelled at several times already. They’ll hand you your items and away you’ll go!

Cafe Store: This is where you walk into a Starbucks. You’ll get in line at the register, try to figure out what you want before you get to the register, or at least have it down to between two or three things. If you’re ever stuck between two things, ask your barista which one they would order. This is a much better question than asking them what their favorite drink is or what they think you should get. Once you get to the register… B: “Thank you for choosing Starbucks. What can I get started for you?” Y: “Hi, can I get a *hot or iced* *size* *name of drink* with *any modifications* B: That’s a *repeats drink back to you* Anything else? Y: No thank you. B: Great. Can I get a name for your order? Y: Yes, *name* You can give your name, or you can give a fun name. I like saying Iron Man or something silly on occasion. Most of the time baristas will be amused by this, we see a million Jessicas everyday. But usually only 1 Spiderman. B: Okay, *name* your total is  *total* You can then pay with your card, cash, or mobile app. It’s usually pretty clear where the handoff plane is, but sometimes a barista will direct you towards it. You can go hangout near the handoff plane, but please don’t stand directly in front of it or sit on it. If the store is busy, odds are there are drinks in front of you, and standing directly in front of the counter will make it hard for others to get their drinks. After a few minutes, a different barista will call out *drink* for *name*, which you can go pick-up. I recommend checking the sticker on the side of the cup to check that it is your drink. Then you get to be on your way!

Finally we have “the app” or mobile ordering. If you have social anxiety, this is a great way to avoid having to talk to someone while you order. You can download the Starbucks app and do it all from your phone. After downloading the app, just tap ‘order’ which is the middle button in the center of the screen. At the bottom of the screen there will be a line that says “pick up at *insert store name here*” double check that you’re ordering to the correct store. Then you can browse the menu to your hearts content and add items to your order. Just make sure you press “checkout” when you’re ready, and that you get the little screen that says “your order will be ready in X-X minutes” Then you can either go through the drive through, and when you get to the speaker say “Mobile order for *name*” or you can walk into the store and go straight to the handoff plane where there will be a little area that says “mobile orders”. Just look for your order, check the name and drink on the sticker on the side, and hooray! Please keep in mind when mobile ordering to do so at least 5 minutes before you actually get to the store. Or be willing to hangout for a few minutes in the store before it is ready. I have a store that’s 7 minutes away on my morning commute, so I’ll usually submit my order right before I leave the house so it’s ready for me when I get there.

I hope this is helpful! If you have any questions, don’t hesitate to ask. I promise, I have heard them all. Also, everything here may not apply in full to ‘we proudly serve’ locations, such as a Barnes and Noble Cafe or to Target Starbucks (also called Tarbucks)

Also I did not touch on the seasonal drinks at all here because they literally change every 2-3 months. The seasonal drinks will be things like the Pumpkin Spice, Butterscotch, Smores, etc... If you want to know what’s in season when you order, just look for a sign. Starbucks releases new signs often which will advertise whatever is in season at the time. You can also ask your barista! 

[bnhablessings]

I was thinking about a one-shot in a modern AU where Mina is a really successful fashion designer and fem!Reader works at some lame retail job but dreams of becoming a model. That's all I really have for a concept and was hoping to leave the rest up to you haha. My bi-ass heart needs more best girl content;;

Challenge accepted for taking this anywhere. Mina deserves love and it is my first female character request so thank you omg. I have been waiting for this moment.

I use everyone’s last names but with Mina, I always use her first name, yes I know that it looks weird because of that haha

Warnings: All characters are aged up, Fluff and silliness, just a wee little bit of angst

Words: 2693

Ashido Mina x Female Reader

The clock seems to take forever as your shift comes to a close. Soon, just soon you can go home and have the next day off. You desperately needed it. This week and the hours here have been so long. If only some entity would have mercy on you for things to by faster.

Unfortunately, you were tasked with dealing with the last three customers before closing time. Your manager of course already dealing with the cash registers, not in use, and fixing up the store. Your eyes remained glue to the three adults that seem your age. They looked awfully familiar too.

“Dude! Look, look! I fucking told you she would grow! She has her own section here,” The black-haired male states.

The redhead looks to be entranced and the dorky blond with them starts to take photos immediately. You gave them a few minutes but now… It appears they have no sense of the time. Or they don’t care about making the employee suffer.

“Kaminari, you’re smallest of us, you should try on the clothes for her. Don’t you think so Sero?” The redhead asks with a stunning smile.

Sero just snickers and Kaminari seems to actually consider the idea. Not wanting them to risk endangering the clothing you are quick to sneak up behind them and speak.

“Is there something you are looking for in particular?” You force a smile that shows the exhaustion you are feeling.

However, they seem dense to your state as all three of them share a look and somehow come up with an idea. It’s written all over their faces and somehow you fear they are all sharing one singular brain cell between them.

“What the hell is taking you guys so long?” A new voice questions behind you.

It nearly made you wet yourself from how aggressive the voice is and how it came from out of nowhere. However, when you turn around to see the person you smile from seeing the familiar face. “Kaachan!”

You ignore the wince Bakugou makes from the nickname and throw your arms around him. To your surprise, he doesn’t push you away at all. Instead, he returns the hug but with complete rigidness.

“What? You know the pretty lady?” Kaminari asks.

You ignore the flirty tone he uses as Bakugou nods his head. He really has changed a lot from the last time you saw him in your primary school years. He’s not as… aggressive. It’s still there but he appears more gentle.

“Yeah. She’s my childhood friend. (Nickname), these are the stupid extras I’ve hung out with during high school,” Bakugou says looking away.

You can see he truly cares for them. You also realize that is why they all look familiar. You recognize them from Bakugou’s social media posts and tags he was included in.

The redhead smiles even brighter (somehow that seems so impossible from how smiley he already is). He shares his idea that the other two boys had with him earlier. “Well, I am Kirishima. That is Kaminari and Sero. Right when you asked us if we were looking for anything particular we had an idea! We were wondering if you would be willing to try on some of these clothes for us. You see our friend loves this brand and wasn’t able to come shopping with us-“

Bakugou is already trying to disuse the idea planted within their heads. The whole thing is rather endearing. It’s been a while since you last saw a group of adult friends like this. It definitely reminds of your high school days.

“Don’t say anymore. I would love to model for you guys. It will have to real quick though we are closing soon,” You state.

The three boys cheer with victory as Bakugou just huffs. The three choose a few pairs of clothing to mix and match before sending you off to the dressing room. Bakugou thankfully keeping your manager busy and away with his glare. Like the manager even cares.

In the dressing room, you observe the clothing brand they want you to try. The brand name is Ashido but the name is in a heart. It was cute. The clothing itself is to die for if you were being honest. It wasn’t exactly cheap but not too expensive either. From the clothing, they gave you it looks as if the designer was trying to aim for a cool “hip” chic design. Almost tomboyish but could be matched with other clothing to find a perfect match for someone’s personal taste.

It honestly makes your chest start to bloom with excitement.

Your personal dream of becoming a model trying to rise with each passing moment of putting on the clothes. You manage to ignore it until you come out of the dressing room and all four boys’ mouths drop open.

It takes a few seconds before one of them manages to snap the photo. “Holy fuck, you look gorgeous!” Kaminari states.

“Here try a few more poses than one more outfit, please! We owe you one for this!” Kirishima says trying to get the heat he’s feeling on his cheeks to go away.

You shrug but do as asked and honestly you live for it. They start hyping you up and you end up trying on two more outfits. Time passed by the blink of an eye and your heart wanted to burst from how much fun you were having with this small group.

Eventually, though, all good things have to come to an end. Bakugou breaks things up from becoming too restless which is good since your manager was now giving you the even eye. You looked at the time and saw it was half an hour past closing. Oops.

You are quick to change to your clothing and kick them out with a goodbye, clocking out, and apologizing to your irritated manager. Thankfully you get off with just a warning since you both have a good relationship with each other which is all just bonding over the sadness of working at this stressful job.

By the time you reach your car you get a message from a number, you don’t know and a smile spreads on your face as you see it’s signed from Bakugou.

Bakugou: *Sent Image* You don’t look half bad. Sorry, those damn extras took their time.

That was it but it made you happy to see that Bakugou has grown from such an intolerable little brat to a little bit hostile but tolerable man. And his friends? You already adore them but too bad it was only for a moment.

The new thought makes your heart have that sinking feeling and gives you a small feeling of dread. You quickly try to reverse the thought. Tomorrow you get your day off!

“Then it is back to the normal schedule,” You mutter.

Wow… There goes for trying to be positive. You rest your head for a moment on the steering wheel before gathering yourself together.

~*~

“Whoa! Who is she?! She’s so pretty! Look at her! Look at my clothing! They fit her so well she could be a model!” Mina states while holding onto her phone with an inhuman grip.

The pictures Kirishima sent were spectacular.

Kirishima laughs and points to their blond friend. “You got lucky then. Kaminari was the one ready to model your clothing. You’re getting pretty big with your name out there, keep it up, bro!” He says happily.

“Yeah, I would’ve been a great model too! You two joining us. It’s been a while since we all played a game,” Kaminari says changing the subject as he pulls out a few remotes to his console.

The two ignore him and Sero is the one to take a remote while speaking up. “That girl though? She was so cute and nice! You would’ve liked her Mina.”

Mina nods with excitement as she observes your features in the picture. “Oh my god. I just had a great idea! She should actually model for my designs!”

“Really? Are they hiring?” Kirishima asks.

Mina can feel the excitement grow as she latches onto the idea. She replies to his question, “Well sort of! I need to get my designing team in on it but once they agree they’ll hire her. We need her to create a portfolio though…”

“Why not go and ask her?” Kaminari asks.

The suggestion makes Mina feel rather light and fuzzy and the desire to recruit this astonishing female is too strong. Of course, her three close friends had to crush her hope immediately. “I don’t know man, isn’t that weird? Shouldn’t you get to know her first? See what type of worker she is?” Kirishima questions.

“I don’t know. If Bakugou was that nice to her I think that is equivalent to being an amazing worker.”

Mina decides to ignore them now. With one final look at the photo, a feeling of giddiness enters her. It’s final. She decided that this beautiful girl is going to be her model! Of course, that means she has to have her roommates take her to the store. So that is exactly what they do the next day.

The group minus Bakugou went straight there to look for her only to see that she wasn’t there. They did ask if she was working today from the employees saying they aren’t allowed to disclose any information.

“Well, what about the manager working last night? I would like to report him for…” Kaminari starts only to not come up with anything.

It was truly a good try but nothing came from it. They are on the verge of giving up when (Name) herself comes out of the employees’ area with a small box in her arms and her eyes slightly red and puffy from obvious crying.

~*~

You hate getting all emotional but truly you have a good reason. You just wish you could hold it in longer. The slight sniffling is the dead giveaway that you are coming close to crying. The feeling worsens only slightly upon seeing the familiar faces from last night with a brand new face.

However, you don’t interact with them all and even ignore their concerned looks.

You can’t talk when you are on the verge of tears so you rush past them and ignore their calls. Without any second thoughts, you hop into the car of your friend’s and start bawling your eyes out as he starts to take you home.

Thankfully, he doesn’t say a word until he reaches your place. Though you can feel his dread and worry for you that is practically leaking from him.

“Do you want me to come in and make you a warm beverage?”

You shake your head and hold the box tightly. “No thank you. You driving me home was enough for me. Thank you so much Izuku. You’re my best friend and you’re always there for me. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.” You are quick to give him a brief hug so you don’t worry him any further.

Then you leave his car and disappear into your apartment where you feel the dread of what happened sinking in. Not knowing what else to do you go into defense mode and curl up into a blanket on the couch.

You are unsure how much time passes by but when you do come to it is because someone is knocking on your door. The knocks are gentle before turning harsh. There are multiple voices and that confuses you until you open the door.

Bakugou stands in the doorway and he is quick to say, “Sorry these damn extras wanted to come over and stupid Deku told me the address.”

The other three boys give you the puppy eyes, begging to know what happened. The girl with them stares at you with curiosity and concern. You invite them all in deciding the company is worth it rather than the dread you would feel by yourself.

“I got fired. So did my manager.”

All of them fall silent as they suddenly piece together what happened. “It’s our fault,” Kirishima murmurs.

You shake your head. “No. It was my fault. To be honest, the management team was looking for any excuse to get rid of a few employees. Not my loss but the panic of not having a job is slowly setting in. I’ll be fine but it is a bit scary.”

They stay silent not knowing what to say. That is until Bakugou stands up. “C’mon, let’s leave them to talk.”

The three perk up making you confused and a bit worried until the girl smiles at you. Her pink locks bring out the brightness of her smile and ease your discomfort. As soon as you hear the door close the girl takes a seat close to you and puts out her hand.

“Ashido Mina! Apologies for the late introduction but I wish to be your friend! That and I went to the store earlier because I saw the pictures of you trying on the clothing I made and I want to offer you a job as a model!” Mina states.

You need a moment to process this. It is obvious as you just stare at her with an expression of a fish. She laughs lightly at this but waits for a reply with the patience of an angel.

“Well nice to meet you Ashido. You probably know already but my name is (Last Name) (First Name). I didn’t realize that you were the designer of the clothes. That’s pretty cool but… You want me to be model them?” Your voice shows an obvious lack of confidence.

That is no problem to Mina. You are a beauty and she is going to make it her goal to prove it to you. She nods her head eagerly. “Yes! My breath was literally taken away for a moment when I saw the photos. I… Think you should be the face of my brand! My team is already on board so you are practically hired! I wouldn’t be your boss either but a co-worker so we can still have fun! We would just need to create a portfolio of you modeling the clothing and other clothes to send to my boss but besides that, you are in only if you want!”

It… Is a lot of information but your heart starts to pound. It’s the same feeling you got last night when the boys hyped you up. Clarity seems to wipe over you for a moment and it feels like the turn of events were meant to happen just for this moment.

You agree.

Mina jumps up and down before pulling you into a very much needed hug on your part. She is then quick to pull away after realizing what she has down. Her own heart feels like she’s drinking a bunch of energy drinks from how fast it is beating.

“I, oh wow. I don’t want to push my luck but I feel like I have to. I want to get to know you of course as friends would but to celebrate you being hired when you do, I was wondering if you would like to celebrate with a date? Oh my god, sorry that must be weird and too straightforward-“

You shut her up by laughing. It made her wince before she realizes your laughter isn’t one of malice. It is one of joy.

“I don’t think it is weird at all. I do want to take it slow of course but I think I already like you from what I’ve seen. We’ll see where it goes… But… Ashido, thank you for taking an interest in me. It means a lot.”

You two have a moment, sharing a smile with each other before sadly it is ruined by the door awkwardly opening and three out of four boys peek in who have eavesdropped on what was said. Mina’s face turns a deep red before you just burst out laughing again.

You are honestly so glad those three came into your work last night.

[monstersandmaw]

Patreon Tier Reshuffle in February and General 2020 Developments...

I gave my Patrons first look at this post, since some of the changes will affect their tiers (only to add content though!). Now I’m posting most of it to Tumblr for you to look at and perhaps have a think about...

It’s a long post, and I’m sorry for that...

First of all, I’d like to say a huge thank you to everyone who’s supporting me on Patreon, whether you’re a long-time supporter or you just joined. I know it's a big deal to give your heard-earned cash to someone on the internet and am well aware of the responsibility I have and what an honour it is to be on the receiving end of your generosity and support. So, yes. Thank you more than I can probably ever express.

Secondly, a reminder that all tiers have access to our chilled out Discord server forever. We’ve got a channel for sharing photos of pets, for general chat, for monsters, for sharing artwork of all kinds, a library to share your own stories, an nsfw chat, recipes etc., so hopefully there’s something for everyone, but there’s no pressure to be active if you’d rather not be! There’s also an ongoing DnD game with some of the folks on there too, which is fun!

It might be worth joining the server anyway because I have plans for a new perk which will involve Discord (see below), and I also occasionally run ‘Discord Drabbles’ where I ask for prompts on Discord from folks, which you might have seen posted on Patreon from time to time.  

Now, finally, round to the topic of this post!

I’ve been thinking about how to make sure that every tier gets the most that I can give them for their money, so I’m going to do a little reshuffle. It will start in February, and I’ve made sure that I’m pretty much just adding stuff to each tier, so you won’t miss out in the reshuffle.  

Here are the new things I’m running only on Patreon from February 2020 in addition to everything else (see below):  

Sculpt This!

Patrons can submit artwork or detailed descriptions (a creature/monster, a character, an object) to a designated ‘Sculpt This!’ channel on Discord, and I will pick one to sculpt once a month. I will create a post on Patreon with the artwork and the artist’s name (and a link to their page/site if they have one, and photos of my final sculpture based on their design. That will be available to everyone from the $1 tier upwards.  

For those on the $5 tier upwards, a short video will be available, featuring footage of the sculpting process itself.  

If the person whose art I use is on the $20 tier or upwards, I will post them the sculpture if they’d like it. 

Trope Tuesdays!

A poll will go up prior to Tuesday, with a list of common tropes (notably from the world of fanfic – things like ‘coffee shop’, ‘bed-sharing’, ‘enemies to lovers’, ‘5 times +1’ etc. etc.) and the winning trope from that poll will be the theme for a short story to be posted on a Tuesday.  

I’m aiming for these short stories to be a variety of fluffy and steamy, available to everyone from the $1 tier up.  

Character Letters

$10 and up patrons can request a letter once a month from their favourite characters from any of my stories (providing I wasn’t using someone else's OC for a commission or the like). This can be sent as a PDF by email and/or posted publicly to Patreon only (not Tumblr), with the option to remove the name if you’d rather remain anonymous.  

$20 and up patrons can request a hand-written letter once a month from their favourite character, again with the option to have the text posted to Patreon or not, and with their name, or not.  

Commissions 

I'm still in two minds about opening these up on here because I got absolutely exhausted – mentally and physically – at the end of 2019 and I’m only just recharging again. I had said I would open them up to patrons only in January 2020, and I may yet do that. If I do, I will create 5 slots, and a maximum of 5k words per story initially, and see how that goes. I realise that’s a small number of slots, but it’s still a lot of work for me on top of the rest of the Patreon commitments. I hope you understand, but I know a number of you responded in a poll to say you’d be interested in commissions from me again.

$10 patrons receive 5% off the first 5000 words of writing commissions, and $20 receive 10% off the first 5000 words of commissions.  

Continuing rewards:  

Monthly story – the monthly exclusive story will still be available for $5 and up (some of these stories have been known to go up to 10k words and be in multiple parts – think Kieran the satyr’s story from October 2018!)

Early release – I will continue to offer all Tumblr stories (except paid commissions from non-patrons and giveaways/specials) on early release – minimum of 4 days, sometimes longer.  

Polls – help me decide what to write next

Character bios and artwork

Future things I hope to bring in later this year:

Gaming with Ghosti

I hope to do some streaming via Twitch of me playing things either on the PS4 (like Assassin’s Creed Odyssey or we could do a special Dragon Age: Inquisition playthrough together), or from PC which could include a number of games, from Witcher III (I still haven’t played much) to Mass Effect, chilled out Minecraft sessions, and a huge number of other games which you could choose to inflict on me and watch me flail around in.

Hopefully Mr. Ghosti could join in too and laugh along with you and just generally have a chilled out time. This would probably happen at the weekend, but I’d have to look into the logistics of it if there’s enough interest.  

Discount for Patrons on my Etsy shop

It’s actually live right now, but I haven’t got anything listed yet as I’m unsure of the last few things I need to get in place, but once I’ve got things up on there, I’ll make an announcement and give patrons a special discount code to use in case there’s anything you’d like to buy, from jewellery to polymer clay charms/sculptures.  

More Q&A type things and video content

Some of you seemed to enjoy the video I did answering your questions, so I could always do more of this, if there are things you’d like to ask! It could be about anything, not just writing. If there’s interest, I’ll look into it.

More milestone giveaways and mystery ‘lucky dip’ giveaways

I love sharing things with you, so when I hit 200 patrons, I’ll have to think up something special, and in the meantime, maybe I’ll do some more giveaways for you.

If there’s something that you would like to see that you think I could put up on Patreon for you, then please get in touch! I’m always looking for ideas

All tier rewards will be as follows from February 2020:

Brand new items in bold, and slight changes in italics:

(putting in a ‘keep reading’ because it’s getting silly now...)

Shadows:  

access to the Patreon-only Discord

access to the ‘Trope Tuesdays’ poll and story

access to the ‘Sculpt This!’ posts

access to some character profiles, aesthetics, polls, and story ideas

small discount on my etsy store (when it opens)

and my undying gratitude!

Pixies and Goblins – all of the above, plus:

one Patreon-exclusive monster story per month

access to the ‘Sculpt This!’ process video

access to the extra, long-running story, released once a month (Werewolf story - coming soon!)

early access for all Tumblr monster stories (excluding paid commissions)

the ‘what’s next?’ poll to help me decide what monster or reader to write

Elves – all of the above, plus:

you can request a letter once a month from your favourite character of mine! This can be sent as a PDF by email and/or posted publicly to Patreon only, with the option to remove the name if you’d rather remain anonymous.

entry into the monthly 3k word story commission – if you are chosen (at random) from the Elves tier (and above) you can have a 3k word story of your choosing written for you

access to ‘Writer’s Corner’, featuring occasional blog posts about writing and workshop goings-on

small work-in-progress previews from both my monster stories and my original fantasy fiction ‘Weaver of Threads’

5% off the first 5000 words of writing commissions, and priority placement in the commissions queue

Orcs – all of the above, plus:

you can also request a letter once a month from your favourite character, but yours can also be hand-written and posted to you if you’d like! You also have the option of it being posted to Patreon or not. 

One short story (maximum 1500 words) with a monster and reader of your choice per month (by request only), included within your subscription

A PDF version of any monster story I’ve written and published on Patreon or Tumblr (by request, and sent by email)

10% off the first 5000 words of a writing commission

if your design was selected in the ‘Sculpt This!’ feature, I can post the finished sculpture to you, if you’d like to have it.

Dragons – all of the above, plus:

One 5000 word story of your choosing will be written for you per month (no fanfiction) as a thank you for your patronage (by request only)

Entry into the monthly top tiers free story draw but your story is 4k words instead of 3k

20% off the first 5000 words of a writing commission

A character with a name of your choosing (upon approval!) will be added to a monster story

Priority on jewellery and metalwork commissions and a larger discount on my Etsy store (when that opens)

Kaiju – all of the above, plus:

if you win the random free commission, yours is 5k words instead of 3k!

One 7000 word story of your choosing will be written for you per month (no fanfiction) as a thank you for your patronage (by request only)

One hand written letter of thanks (I have nice handwriting, don’t worry!) sent to you by post, including a little short story

25% off the first 5000 words of a writing commission

30% discount on jewellery and metalwork commissions

Dedication by name in any published work (let me know if you wish to remain anonymous)

Hope you’re excited, and don’t forget that you can always get in touch with me on any of my platforms – Patreon, Tumblr, Discord. If you want to share something but also want to remain anonymous, just send an anon to Tumblr and ask me not to post it. 

__

| Masterlist | Patreon | Ko-fi | Writing Commissions |

[theamateurblogger]

Anon Asked: I love your poly chiffany post! Can we get some poly chiffany x reader parent headcannons? (Their kids! Glen, Glenda

Thank you so much! I hope this is what you wanted, anon! It’s really late where I am, so hopefully I don’t hate this in the morning when I read this over lmao

*Also, Tumblr screwed me over again so that’s fun

You have to constantly scold Tiffany and Chucky for smoking around the kids

Chucky is obviously the hard ass *rolls eyes* 

He constantly tries to be the dominant voice in the family and wants the kids to know that he's the boss and that they should want to be like him

He'd probably try to give them their first cigarette when they're like newborns 3

Tiffany has a field day with that one

Tiff would try so hard to be a good mom

She'd plan the most extravagant parties and celebrations for literally everything 

Got 100% on a test? Party time 🎉 

Got expelled from school for breaking a kid's arm? Party time 🎉

PTA MOM (please don't let her bake the cookies for the bake sale)

She's proud of everything they do

They could do no wrong 

Try and question that, I fucking dare you 

The staff at the school have realized to call you instead of Tiff or Chucky if there are any issues 

Too many times have you had to calm a fuming duo down from murdering a principal in broad daylight

Tiff would be so honest about sexuality and would give "the talk" about sex, drugs, etc.

She would encourage Glenda to be strong willed and confident in her body and she would make sure Glen knows to be respectful of women and their bodies 

Essentially she is raising the biggest feminists

And you don't disagree

Chucky though? He wants Glen to be the biggest player out there; says that's how he was back in the day 

Glenda would most definitely have to deal with an overprotective father. No human is worthy of touching her

You'd be the confider for the two confused kiddos

Whenever they need a break from their spiritual and free willed mother or their overly protective father, they know where you are 

Help on homework? You try your best. Career day at school? You'll come up with the best presentation possible. Glenda has her first date? You're the one who sneaks her out and hands her extra cash

And if the kid fucks up and makes her cry? You have 3 murderous parents ready to slaughter their entire family. 

If they ever decide to play sports or participate in a spelling bee, etc., they'd be so damn embarrassed

Screaming their names, confetti, silly string, posters. You name it. Those kids are yours and there is no way in hell they will ever feel unloved 

Plus, Chucky would probably kill some of the opponents so they'd have to forfeit and his kids can take the victory

All of the kids’ friends have major crushes on Tiff

You’d think that they’d all fear Chucky, but they all love him!!!

He once let them blow up some dynamite

You’re the adult in this scenario

They ask you for permission, and they go to you for band aids and snacks

[dragonlearnstowrite]

Caught In Her Eyes

As promised in the previous post, here is the character sketch or introductory story of Anna Marie Lee

Photo by Alexis Go

Anna Marie glanced at her watch as the bus turned left towards Uxbridge Road. It was 7:50 PM, just in time for a late dinner once they reached their drop-off point. Taking out her mirror and lipstick for a touch up, she tsked when she saw her reflection. Her strawberry blond hair looked flat and lifeless from the long ride. She quickly plied on a layer of red on her lips then tucked the items away. Using the dark windows as a mirror, she fluffed up her pixie hair as best as she could. Satisfied, she stood up, grabbed the mic from the overhead storage, and faced the passengers of the bus.

With a crisp clear voice, Anna Marie said in fluent Chinese, “My dear travelers, in just a few minutes, our tour will finally come to an end. As gratitude for choosing our company, allow me to share one last fun fact.” She paused for effect and then pointed her index finger upwards. “Did you know that Her Royal Majesty, Queen Elizabeth II actually needs permission from the Lord Mayor before she can enter the City of London?” Her eyes looked left and right as sounds of wonder and disbelief arose from within the bus. “Believe it or not, according to the royal website, the citizens of London have the privilege of preventing the Sovereign from entering the streets since ancient times.” Anna Marie closed her eyes with satisfaction as the bus filled with excited voices.

Turning to check the front window, Anna Marie’s smile grew with excitement as she saw Westfield Shopping Centre rising up on the horizon. She couldn’t wait to enter Angels and Devils and order a tall glass of heavenly Kahlua, her usual reward after each satisfactory project. Taking a big breath to compose herself, she faced the travelers and advised them to remain seated as the bus made a turn to enter the mall's bus bay. She provided suggestions and recommendations for different pubs, clubs and eateries the travelers might want to visit as well as enjoy London’s exuberant night life should they wish to.

The bus finally staggered to a stop and everyone prepared to depart. One by one, she ticked names off her clipboard as each one alighted the bus until none were left but her and the driver. As per customary, Anna Marie quickly checked each row of seats to make sure nothing and no one else had been left behind, that done, she promptly gathered her belongings and stepped off the bus.

The moment she reached a safe place on the curb, she placed her overnight bag on the hard granite floor and took a deep breath to stretch and relax her stiff muscles.  A finger suddenly tapped her right shoulder, followed by a heavily accented voice. “Hey Anna Marie.”

She looked to her right and met the hazel brown eyes of Terrence Chan, the lone soloist of the group. Anna Marie smiled and said in Chinese, “Hey Terrence, what’s up? Did you forget something on the bus?” Terrence shook his raven black head with a smile, “No Anna Marie, I hadn’t left anything. I just wanted to say thank you for the amazing tour. I really enjoyed your periodical fun facts” Rather than speak in Chinese, Anna Marie was quite surprised to hear him respond in perfect English, despite the heavy Asian accent. She blinked her momentary surprise away,smiled and responded in English “You’re welcome. I’m glad you enjoyed them.”

Terrence nodded and said, “I certainly did. I must say though, that even after hearing you speak fluent Mandarin for the past 36 hours or so, it still amazes me that you can speak our language in such perfect tones. How is it that you can speak so fluently?” Anna Marie smiled at his honest curiosity as she explained how she grew up in a household where speaking to her dad in Chinese, and her mom in Spanish was a must and how that started her passion for language and culture.

With wide amazed eyes, Terrence blurted out, “So you’re what they must call a polyglot! Are there any other languages you can speak fluently in?” Anna Marie couldn’t help but giggle. How many times does it make now? that her multilingual skills amazed the people she met in her part-time job as a tour guide? And asked that very same question?!

The sudden gust of spring breeze stopped Anna Marie’s silly thoughts and brought her back to reality. There they were, still standing outside the mall, chatting in the cool night air. Taking a deep breath to recompose herself and then met Terrence’s eyes as she said, “Actually, I am also well versed in French.”

Terrence’s already wide eyes widened even further as he exclaimed, “Wow! Fantastic! Amazing!” Visibly shaken with surprise, he took a deep breath and said in a seemingly calm voice, “I’m sorry to take up so much of your time, but by any chance, do you have any plans after this? I’d like to have a chance to discuss a possible job offer.”

“What kind of offer?”, she asked.

“Interpreter and translator.” he answered.

“Hmm.. interesting. Unfortunately, I already have a full time job as a translator, tour guiding is just something I do on the side for fun, and extra cash.”

“I see. Hmm.. “ He looked pensive with his brows scrunched up the way it did. And then suddenly, as if an idea popped into his head, his brows popped up and his eyes cleared up, with a determined voice, Terrence said, “May I invite you to dinner? and maybe some drinks after? I am quite famished from the trip, and I’m sure you must be too?”

Surprised by the sudden invitation, Anna Marie was silent for a few seconds. It was clear to her that Terrence was determined to persuade her to take the job. Flattered by his persistence, she smiled and said, “Actually, I already have plans to go to Angels and Devils, a favorite pub of mine over at Portobello Road. You’re welcome to join me there if you want.” It wouldn’t hurt to hear the details of the job, she added silently. Who knows? She might even get a free meal out of it. The Chinese are notorious for hogging the bill after all, she thought naughtily.

Terrence smiled brightly at the counter invite. “That’s wonderful! I’d be honoured to join you!”

Anna Marie picked up her overnight bag as she said, “Well, what are you waiting for? Let’s go! You probably don’t know the way, so I’ll lead you there.”

Terrence stopped her movement with a touch of his hand on her shoulder as he said, “Actually, I was thinking we could take a cab there. I have a feeling it’d be a pretty long walk to that place.”

Anna Marie blinked with surprise as she said, “You’re right, it is quite far from here on foot.” She took out her phone and checked the bus schedule. “It would seem that the next bus wouldn’t arrive for quite a while either.”

He smiled, “A cab it is then, my treat.” He stretched out his hand and hailed an incoming taxi, he opened the door for her to enter and then followed in after. “Angels and Devils Pub at Portobello Road please”, he told the driver.

A few minutes into the ride, Anna Marie heard Terrence moving in his seat as he said, “Anna Marie, if you don’t mind my asking, there’s something I’ve been curious about since first meeting you yesterday.”

Anna glanced his way and asked, “What is it?”

He leaned closer and said, “It’s your eyes. Your left eye is blue, whilst your right eye is brown. Is it a fashion choice? Or are they naturally that way?”

[tgai-spock]

anyway here chapter 1 new trek fic with spock erm. they.

no title

untitled

will find it oh shit its 1 now

The talk of the ship was a book, created by Anna Natasha detailing the events of people in life threatening situations, some of whom were ex-starfleet. It was the newest hit culture sensation. The beginning to the book was filled with the species involved, human, orion just common facts about their species, how long they could go without food, how long they could go without water, It was unneccesery as every moment a person spent in peril the narrator tended to remind you, but it was introsting. The book wasn’t about comparing, it was about pushing the boundaries of surivial, hope in the face of certain death, so it was no surprise the Captain Kirk had managed to devour it.

“I’m just saying” Kirk said with a shrug “I’m forcing the whole crew to read the entire thing.”

Spock, who had stopped and blinked up back to Kirk “I don’t think-“

“It’s logical” Kirk counters.

Spock raises an eyebrow “how?”

“It’s full of surivial tips, in different situations with real people.”

“Hold - hold on. Some of the things people do actively put themselves in a worse situation, take Akala and David, they’d have a few extra toes each if they hadn’t caused that avalanche.”

“True” Kirk nodded “but, we can learn from their mistakes, don’t start a fire beanth a mountain made curly of snow.”

“Jim boy, if there’s some silly folks thinking lighting a fire while inside the mountain thats more snow than stone I don’t think there’s any hope for them.”

“Yet David and and Akala still survived” Spock said.

“Hey, you would agree with me. That said you’ve be awful to have any, the amount of wrong survival decisions you make.”

Spock frowned “I am still alive, therefore I have made all the right survival decisions.”

“Jim, what do you think you should do when your stabbed through?”

“Die? No see a doctor.”

“Great, so you can confirm, you do not run around, and then try to fight people?”

“Objection, I did see you a doctor first, unfortunately it was you-”

“Hey!” McCoy yelled.

“Gentlemen, please” Kirk rolled his eyes “I’ve already made up my mind, it’s mandatory reading.”

“I doubt it will make much difference” McCoy said into his lunch “I think the whole crews already gone through it, I’ve seen Chapel read through it twice. She think Adam Smith cute. Ugh.”

“Was that the Adam in the desert or the one working in the natural disaster relief?”

“The one that got himself lost in the desert.”

“She has bad taste”

“Yeah I’d say” McCoy said grinning, knowing her not so secret crush.

“I bet I could fill an entire book with my near death experiences” Kirk says placing the book down and finished off his stake.

“That’s all my logs are. You drag me down to a damn planet I don’t need to be on, an I almost die.”

“You hardy ever die.” Spock mumbles.

“Thank you Spock, oddly enough the ideal amount of times to die, is once, and it should be perment. But oddly enough I do count people shooting weapons at me as a near death experience.”

Spock frowned “even if they don’t hit you?”

“Why are you acting like thats weird? Yes even if the loaded gun misses my head by 2mm and I am unscathed, that is still a near death experience.”

“Then I could defiantly fill up a book of near death experiences that I didn’t even get whilst on duty” Kirk said.

“Likewise.”

“You should both be dead. I am the only one keeping this ship alive.”

“Fun fact I really should be dead” Spock said.

“I’m signing you up to therapy-”

“A slightly older version of me went back in time, and save me from dying when I was a child.”

“He’s lost his marbles.”

“Really?” Kirk frowned.

Spock looked up to Kirk and frowned “yes.”

“Right. Of course. You’d think time travel would be a bit harder to come by, when I was a kid I never even imagined time travel to exist.”

“That would save us both a lot of trouble.”

“I sure hope your referring to a certain planet, and not your own existence.”

“I was referring to how your up bring and birth would have been completely different but your not wrong.”

“Oh I guess so, any time travel in you childhood Bones?” Kirk asks.

“No Jim. I’m a normal person. Just a country doctor.” He says smugly.

“I’m a normal person. I think, and Spock a normal-”

“The only vulcan humans hybrid.”

“That doesn’t make you unnormal.”

“Mathmaticlly it does.”

“Well I’m not speaking math, your a normal person to me.”

“I have no concept of the words you are saying, but, thank you?”

“That’s it! The only un-normal person I’ve ever known was this boy in my high school, he used to cut open animals and try to frankenstein them back into life.”

A psychopath…or a scientist? Spock psychopath or scientist?”

“You eat dead animals all the time” Spock said “how are you not a psychopath.”

“I’m not just saying that, if theres a lot of animal deaths going on there it’s an early sign that they could later try killing a human.”

“Intresting… then I would suggest an immoral scientist.”

“So evil.”

* * *

He turned the tablet over in his hands, and he turned it again so the email would look at him. He turned it around again, a slow spin, his mind making the same turns. In the end it was a two way choice to accept or reject. To accept would give people a glimpse of himself, it would help home vulcans, and it could mean that his own crew would treat him differently. Worse. Or that look of pity, something that should only be given to a puppy needing a home, a look that should only be given by those stepping up to home the puppy. Not a look to a person about an experience so long ago that it was now apart of their being. To reject would hold off valuable resources to vulcan. Not hold away as such, but he could bring extra to those who need it, for those to rebuild their culture before the older vulcans with knowledge die before the planned regains its true self suficentcy. New vulcan currently had an unbalance, doctors to builders, to skilled to unskilled. Skilled workers needed to be brought in from outside sources and that did cost money. His tablet buzzes, another email from Kirk. He wants to talk.

Spock enters Kirks room at the same time as McCoy. McCoy got that air about him, like a hen puffing up to protect her eggs.

“Whats going on Jim?” McCoy asks.

“You would never believe the email I just got” Kirk said with a smile, and McCoy unpuff a bit sensing his mood.

“What is it?” McCoy asked.

“Anna Natasha has just informed me that she has permission to seek any life and death stories from starlet personal, as long as they haven’t happened while on duty, or involve starfleet.”

“Oh well you said just this morning you could fill an entire book. Are you thinking about accepting.”

“I don’t know” Kirk shrugged “should I? They offered me a lot of money, and whilst there are some situations I don’t want to repeat… I think I have a couple of situations I wouldn’t mind sharing.”

“Well, whatever you do, just don’t accept for the money.”

“I have the same email.”

“Oh?” Kirk says surprised.

“And I was thinking about accepting just for… the donation to new vulcan.”

“Oh. Donating. To new vulcan - hey I could do that? I could get my self a few treats, and then donate the rest.” Kirk said thoughtfully.

“Don’t let me influence how you spend your money” Spock said.

“No, I’d want to, I could split some cash between charities. Do you think my crew would disrespect if I told everyone, about this time I spat in a mans face.”

“Did you do it while also pushing a plane wreck survivor over the edge a cliff?” McCoy asked.

“No, I did not pull a Bella Saurus.” Kirk said.

“Then I think it might be okay. You could always retell me about the situation first, and then I could give you my initial reaction. You too Spock. In fact clear it with both of us first.”

“Is that an order?”

“I’m just saying, you ain’t got emotions, for all I know you could have cut up a corpse to keep yourself warm, and that ain’t going to go over smoothly with there rest of the crew.”

“Firstly thats disgusting, and secondly that sounds logical.”

“Jim, Jim help me.”

“It is not an order Spock, do whatever you like. However if you would like an ear to bat one of your experiences off first to see if that will effect how you interact with your crew, both me and McCoy offer a friendly ear.”

“Thank you.”

“Thats what I just set.”

“No… you said somethings about cutting up copses and living in them. Would that work?”

“It does, many people have survived a cold winter by climbing into the corpse of a dead animal.”

“Humans are weird.”

“Okay.

* * *

Four days after he received his email Spock realised that he not care what his crew thought of him, he had had foul rumour spread across the ship many times before he’d become commander and some after. Half of the rumours were true. But it had never stopped him, whether someone thought he was mean or cruel. If someone decided he was stupid, or a narcissist or selfish psychopath. It didn’t matter. Wether his crew viewed him as evil or good he could still common them, put them in the brig for disobedience, but few disobeyed him know he’d follow through fully on any threats. The only thing that held him back was James.T.Kirk and Leonard McCoy, and a few of the other commanding officers he respected and admired. He did care what they thought of him, and it worried him to think that they might learn of one experience and think of him as evil, though he couldn’t even bring to mind the slightest of experiences that could label him as evil, as least not one he had taken off duty. On the seventh day after receiving the email, he decided he wanted to tell them anyway.

It was an odd experience, he was not what could be described as a talker, and he liked to represent himself as the person he was in the moment. Not to be judged by the past but only by the present an ever turning of events. Not to be judged by the future nor the past, not to allow someone to think that all these past things were an explanation for his present being when in between all of that were countless books, people, and not so threatening experiences, mundane everyday activities which just as much effected his present if not ever more so. He did know Jim had been on taurus, he had told him a long time ago through passing conversation. He didn’t talk about it a lot, just mentioned it. Spock didn’t judge him for it and couldn’t, but that didn’t mean other people didn’t. Yet Spock did not have a taurus. So he wasn’t really sure what he was so worried about, most of the situations he was in, was in part due to his clumsiness. After duty the three gathered to talk for an evening.

* * *

McCoy opened up his medical chest on the coffee table between them. They were in Jims quarters one of the few rooms that allowed a personal place to sit, and these sofas were rarely used.

“Just to be clear” Jim said “I don’t need a hypo.” McCoy grinned and opened the chest to reveal a bottle of brandy.

“Is there any occasion that will not result in you drinking?” Spock asked somewhat unsurprised.

“Brain surgery. Well, I mean I’ll have a shot to keep my nerves down, medicinal helps me work.”

“You’ve done brain surgery on me” Spock said appalled.

“One shot just wasn’t going to help me I did, five.”

“Jim” Spock said seriously.

“He’s joking Spock” Jim said scratching his head, as he took a glass from McCoy.

“I’m not” McCoy mouthed at Spock.

“Bones don’t.”

“Wait Spock, what would you rather, I do brain surgery on you after one shot, or an unknown sober vulcan does brain surgery on you.”

“Neither let me die in peace.”

“Thats it buddy, one more word that some how equates to you not being alive, and I’m putting you back on suicide alert.”

“You had him on suicide alert?” Jim asked appalled “are okay.”

“I am perfectly fine, and not suicidal” Spock says seriosuly.

“I literally don’t know whats going through his head, I have him on it almost every other week. Although it is procedure to put people on suicide alert after they’re toruted or have a near death experience for at least four weeks. And Spock rarely goes without either.”

“They’re should be a maximum amount of near death experiences that can get you put on suidide, and then after twenty five or so, they just shouldn’t apply.” Spock said.

“See that sounds logical to him” McCoy shrugged “when humans get beat up that much they usually get so tired being in pain so often that sometimes, the kill themselves.”

“I haven’t.”

“The procedures are for normal people. Anyway” McCoy swirls the drink in his glass as he points from Spock to Jim “who’s starting? Lets get these death tales underway, I might even throw one in myself. But only one, unlike some people I’m not dying every other day.”

“Fair enough” Jim nodded “Spock, you’ve heard some of mine before now, would you mind starting.”

“That seems fair, although I have decided to go for my youngest experiences as I feel people won’t be able to hold that strong opinion on something a child has done.”

“You? A child? I doubt.”

“Thats true I was just a very short man.” Spock agree and McCoy snorted into his drink.

“Okay I’m sorry. Okay. I am turning into nice McCoy, go on with your story.”

“Well you’ve not nearly drunk enough to turn into nice McCoy but very well.”

The gaps between us

I was nine years old at the time, it was Van’Dra at the time on vulcan. Vulcan has six seasons, Van’Dra is the hottest of them, it is the only season where the desert doesn’t cool at night and the cheikkka bugs can be spotted with their glowing neon wings gathering in groups before coming to their yearly demise. Vulcans schools don’t have a summer holiday as such, but as it is the time of most wildlife, and the occasional festival, this season is used to practice survival skills, or for independent learning and volunteer work, which the majority of all school age children work for to support their own communities and gain outside knowledge of how the world works.

That year I had not applied to work the in any volunteer work as it was pointless, despite my fathers stubborn insistence that I do so. Instead I had decided to spend my time studying, and visiting ‘Vulcans Forge’ by myself.

“Wait is that not obviously dangerous?” McCoy asked. 

“Yes, but not for me I spent a lot of my time there.” Spock said. 

“Why? Just in the outback.” McCoy said.

“I like nature and I like looking at bugs, thats why I’m a scientist.”

“Okay… I guess. no wait loads of fully grown vulcans used to die there. I remember-”

“McCoy are you trying to talk me out of going to a place that no longer exists.”

“Let him talk” Jim moaned who was very much enjoying listening to the info dump on vulcan.

“Well, I’m just saying, that just sounds like a bad idea. Sounds like a Adam in the desert move.”

“I spent more time in the desert than my own home. What I am talking about is probably the worst thing, with a single exception, to happen to me in the desert, and I spent 8 more years visiting the forge without incident.”

“Okay well that-”

“I’ve not even begun-”

“Sorry! Sorry carry on Mr Spock. Stop telling me about the seasons.”

“It’s important.”

“You almost die of thirst? You get heat stroke?”

“Have another drink Doctor.” Spock said and he continued.

My brother-

“BROTHER?!” Both McCoy and Kirk yelled.

“Oh you didn’t know?” Spock said slyly “maybe I’ll tell you about him if you be quiet.”

“A brother? I have so many questions.” Jim said

“Can I answer all of them?” Spock asked

“Sorry carry on.”

My brother, the son of Sarek, and a vulcan princess, had come out of a distant small mountain community- McCoy if you say one more word I will kill you. He had recently moved into our family home as his mother had died. His entire existence had been kept a secret and was a surprise to everyone. No. No McCoy save your questions for later.

Sybok was a truly unique vulcan and one of whom I rarely met. His mother had believed in emotion- if I have to remind you one more time I will end you without mercy. So he was taking time to adjust to the house. My Father always urged the strictest emotional control, more so than any normal vulcan would ask, my mother would go against his wishes anytime he was gone more than a day from the house. Yet she was rarely so emotional with me, she might watch a film with me but or introduce me to a new earth book, but with Sybok she encouraged him to be happy. Since Sybok had missed out on important training in controlling himself at a young age and saw his emotion to the one thing tying him to his mother he found this entire concept very difficult and disturbing.