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llendrinall · 4 years ago

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Hi I have a writing promt.

A story that is written from both pov's that shows Draco and Harry falling in love with each other. Little moments together where they fall a bit more in love. Things they do that make the other thing "Wow I'm so in love with him". Ect.

Harry had always been starkly aware of Draco, but it was after the war, in the Wizengamot, when he actually noticed him for the first time.

Draco was sitting next to Pansy Parkinson, holding her hand so tight that he was leaving white marks. Harry got a glimpse of them when Pansy was called to give her testimony.

Then the unthinkable happened. Instead of demurring, which she was allowed to do –was expected by everyone to do, was what every other member of a Death Eater family had done so far– Pansy answered all the prosecutor’s questions. She gave true testimony and denied her parents the imperius defence.

Draco was waiting for her when she came down from the stand. He grabbed her hand and led her away with measured steps so it wouldn’t look like they were running.

The second time Harry noticed Draco like that, as a person rather than as an opponent, was, coincidentally, the first time Draco saw Harry as Harry. Not as a school enemy or a war enemy or The Boy Who Lived or The Saviour Of The Wizarding World. Not even as Harry Potter. He saw Harry as just Harry.

It probably helped that Harry was unrecognizable under a thick layer of soot and grime so Draco didn’t know who he was calling an idiot. Draco also yelled to stop immediately and step back and, miraculously, Harry did. No hesitance.

Not all Death Eater had been arrested and not every awful individual had joined Voldemort, which meant that there were plenty of terrible people out in the world. Someone, Death Eater or not, had attacked Wisteria House. The house where rescued and freed house-elves were hosted.

Draco understood that the house-elves weren’t the goal. They were just the bait, a cheap collateral. The point of the attack was to have someone (maybe Harry, most probably Granger), cross the door quickly, without looking around them, and walk straight into a deathly trap.

Draco saw the trap, called out a warning and Harry listened. He listened to Draco.

Both of them walked away with a different opinion of the other. No one comes out the same from a burning building.

The third time went like this.

“Occupied.”

“Je- Blimey!”

“Find your own corner in the shadows to hide, Potter. This one is mine.”

“I don’t have time to find another spot.”

“Too bad. W- wait! No, quit it!”

“Scoot over! We can share.”

“No, we can’t. This is my dark spot, go away.”

“Either we share or I make sure they find you too.”

“As if I care. I’m not hiding from your devotees. Go away.”

“It’s Clay Buckthorn.”

“… be quiet, then.”

They hid in there for an hour, talking in whispers and sharing a bottle of butterbeer, while Secretary Buckthorn, the most persistent and insufferable politician to ever crawl out of the Ministry, looked around for a popular face to join his campaign. They were about to leave when in came Rita Skeeter, pressuring Percy Weasley to answer her questions. They watched from the shadows as she pressed and cajoled and he resisted. It was a bit like watching some sort of fight sport, only after ten minutes they weren’t sure who they were supporting.

Harry thought Draco was dating Pansy Parkinson and maybe he still was. Evidently, it was all for show. No need to read so much into it.

There was this old witch complaining about tradition and values. Nothing no one hadn’t heard before many times. People these days had no respect, it was disgraceful and so on. But then she turned to Dennis Creevey and his boyfriend (some Slytherin kid, Harry didn’t know him), and she asked if their families weren’t ashamed of them. Two men together. They ought to be.

Harry wasn��t sure if she knew about Dennis’ brother or not. It was hard to believe that people could be so deliberately cruel to a stranger. The question stopped him from immediately jumping to her neck. He had been accused of blowing things out or proportion before. And by before, he meant that morning when he called out that rude shopper who cut the line before a goblin.

Meanwhile, Draco rolled his eyes in that magnificent way of his. For someone who acted so proud and proper, Draco had a very expressive face and the rolling of his eyes was a spectacle to behold. He stood from his table, grabbed Theo Nott by the lapels, and kissed him on the mouth long and hard right in the middle of the crowded restaurant. Afterwards he sat down, perfectly composed, and both Theo and him turned to look at the witch like the smuggest pair of snakes in the forest.

The witch left the restaurant soon after. Dennis lost the wretched look on his face and Harry paid the bill on Draco’s table, earning a nod from him on the way out.

The day Draco’s heart began to beat a different rhythm was a hot Thursday in summer and someone had tried to kill him.

It wasn’t a particularly well thought attack and Draco took precautions. He wouldn’t have gotten anything worse than an intense headache and maybe some sore muscles. Still, Harry felt the need to push him to the floor and shield him with his body from the sparks and shrapnel falling over them. Harry had stopped the hex in mid-air, which was admittedly impressive. Draco watched the purple rivulets of the failed curse slowly descending around them and wondered if he was in shock. That would be embarrassing. This clumsy attack on his life didn’t deserve any shock.

Harry jumped from him (so nimble!) and chased down the would-be murdered, on foot, like a muggle. He, he just ran down the street, didn’t even cast a spell until he caught up to him and brought him to the floor. Draco was sorry to miss that part, although there were very good pictures on the newspaper the next day. Harry looked amazingly heroic. One of the pictures had him jumping in mid-air.

Draco didn’t know if this was something Harry did for everybody or if it was just for him, nor did he care. His chest and stomach and… other parts, were confused enough about how to feel, and his heart, in particular was beating to a new tune.

So Draco could make moving shadows to play stories and it was amazingly beautiful and Harry loved it, he loved it, and no, it was not the potion talking, he was perfectly sound of mind. St Mungo was about to let him go! But Draco had come visit him and when Harry complained about being dreadfully bored, Draco had put on this absolutely magical spectacle (yes, Harry knew they were both wizards, it was still magical; no, no potion talking, it was an honest opinion). In the end Harry stayed the night, just like the mediwitch had begged him to, and fell asleep with the shadows performing a dance before him.

Draco didn’t call it love because he was quite an obstinate young man, but he was at that stage where he would easily admit that he was willing to lay down his life for Harry. He only had trouble with the word, not with the sentiment itself and its manifestation.

They were at the Ministry. It should be a pretty simple and straight-forward process. Go in, Pansy signs the documents, Draco bears witness and signs his own documents, go out. But of course it wouldn’t be so simple. A pretty pureblood witch doing anything against her family was a spectacle. The press wanted photos, people wanted to see it live, and, of course, there was the ever present mob who just wanted to shout awful things. Usually Pansy dealt with the mob by herself, swiftly and with a sting.

But today was different, hence why Draco had informed Pansy he would be accompanying her before she could ask him to. It wasn’t like the day she gave her testimony, but it was close enough. In a way, it was worse. A year ago they had her testimony to think about. Today it was just signing a document. That could hardly distract them from the crowd waiting for them.

A push. A yelp. A crash. And Harry Potter gallantly preventing a very old wizard from having a huge flower vase fall on top of him. Somehow, Harry didn’t cast protego in time, so he avoided being brained by the vase but was splashed by the water and stood completely drenched in the middle of the Ministry main hall.

Across the mass of curious people and reporters and workers and people who had come to shout awful things, Harry looked at Draco. He gave him A Look. If he had more time, Draco would stop and think of a suitable metaphor for Harry’s eyes, their colour and intensity. But he didn’t, so he grabbed Pansy by the elbow and together they crossed the hall without the crowd noticing. Everyone’s attention was naturally fixed on the way the Saviour of the Wizarding World’s wet clothes clung to his chest.

Afterwards, once he had seen Pansy safely (and discreetly) home, Draco went to find Harry. He was perfectly dry now, but he had a faint scent of flowers around him.

“The rose garden is lovely in June,” Draco said, which should be enough but of course Harry didn’t understand him. Harry was kind, brave, handsome and clever in the most useless way so Draco had to actually explain, with words, that Weasley and Granger must have realize by now the extent of their fame and what it would mean if they married at the Burrow, where anyone could break in. Hence, why Draco mentioned his lovely rose garden where they could get married if they chose to without anyone invading their privacy.

“Hermione’s extended family is muggle.” Harry said, and dear Merlin it was even worse than Draco thought. They were going to pick a muggle place. So not only people breaking in, but a violent attack against the muggles too. Just what you want for a wedding.

“The Malfoy family marries for power, not blood purity.” Draco explained in a whisper. “There is no repello muggletum in our houses.”

“What!?” Harry cried, drawing immediate and sharp attention to them so they had to leave quickly and find a quiet place where Draco explained that Grandmother Imogen –that is, Lucius Malfoy’s mother– was a muggle but, most importantly, a peer of the Realm.

Harry stood in shocked silence for a minute, and after a lot of “whats” and “hows” and “no, really, how could you join Voldemort?” he accepted to at least extend Draco’s offer to the happy couple.

Draco said he didn’t plan on attending the wedding. Just because he was offering his summer house it didn’t mean he expected an invitation. He got one anyway, because Draco had showed them his summer house and two country houses belonging to his muggle cousins and was very careful not to mention Malfoy Manor at any point. Ron appreciated it even more than Hermione.

He rejected the invitation anyway because he said he much preferred to sit by the gates and send stinging hexes to anyone trying to intrude. It was his one chance to curse people indiscriminately and he didn’t want to waste it.

He showed up later, during the reception, looking handsome and with a pleased smile on his face. He grabbed a glass of champagne, immediately transformed it from a flute to a pompadour without wasting a drop, and sat himself next to Aunt Muriel whom he proceeded to engage in a long and acrid dispute until Ron and Hermione had left. Dear Aunt Muriel didn’t get a chance to insult the bride, or the groom, or any of their families really.

It was right then, while Draco forged a lifelong enemy (her life, not his) by insulting her garden (how did he know so much about flowers), that Harry realized he was in love. He was in love. He was in love. He wanted to be with Draco and insult people together and scandalize prejudiced old bats until they themselves were old bats.

Harry picked up a fight with the officiant (to be fair, that comment about the goblins was very unfortunate) and they ended up getting married at a muggle register’s office and Draco was so, so, happy. His family was obviously displeased. Cousin Nerissa said that her fiancée could officiate and was very offended when Fred Weasley said no one wanted to be married by a man named Cuthbert. It was amazing. George Weasley sat next to Cousin George, the baron. Hermione and Ginny Weasley started a fight with the most traditional-minded relatives (from every side). Cousin Audrey came out to the family when she was caught propositioning Luna Lovegood. Pansy Parkinson got engaged to no less than three lords and said they could sort between themselves who got to marry her.

Draco was so in love. It was amazing.

#asks #verse:finding common ground and falling in love #what is it with flute glasses anyway #it's impossible to find pompadours these days #harry potter #draco malfoy #Anonymous #textpost

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starleska · 2 years ago

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The Nightmare Picnic - Wally Darling x Reader

You're a brand new resident in the wonderful Welcome Home Neighbourhood, and it's the perfect day for the picnic! But your dear friend Wally Darling doesn't seem to be enjoying the fun. What will happen when you decide to try and cheer him up?

content warnings for: eye imagery, scopophobia, hypnosis, impossible physics, Eldritch, and unreality. go in assuming that Wally is a weird little guy, and you’re both terrified of and kind of enjoy that fact! 😉 you can also find this fic on my AO3. i hope you enjoy!!

The day you learn how to love Wally Darling begins like any other.

It is a balmy day, the air soft and thick and dizzy with butterflies. The sun shines with relentless cheer, and nary a cloud can be seen in the sky. Such a day in the Neighbourhood cannot be spent languishing inside, and all your new neighbours think the same way. So, which lovely activity did they decide upon? Why, a picnic on the grass, of course!

The organisation of the event is efficient and cheerful. In no time, the lush meadow surrounding the outskirts of the Neighbourhood is replete with cosy blankets to lie on, fun games to play, and a plethora of delicious foods contributed by each neighbour. Luckily, you’d baked a whole tray of cupcakes the previous day, with the intent of handing them out when bumping into your neighbours going about their daily business. The cupcakes were a huge success; even the ever-curmudgeonly Frank, who always has something to complain about, graces you with a begrudging, “It’s good, I suppose,” when you hand him a vanilla cupcake topped with a green-icing butterfly.

'I needed this,’ you think as you look around at your new friends. You’ve only been a resident of the Neighbourhood for a few months, but in that time you’ve grown so close to its colourful cast of neighbours as if you’d known each other your whole lives. Right now, they’re dotted across the meadow, smiling and laughing without a care in the world: Howdy’s busy putting together an impossibly long string of daisy chains; Eddie and Sally peer into an origami fortune-teller and giggle at the results; Frank leans over a bush, studying a caterpillar, and Julie and Poppy clap and cheer whilst Barnaby entertains them with a juggling act.

It’s a gorgeous scene. Today, your heart is warm.

A small flash of yellow catches your eye. Of course, it’s an incomplete picture. You take in Wally, who sits cross-legged under the shade of a verdant apple tree. He’s holding an apple between both hands and staring at it intently, as if willing the fruit to communicate with him. It’s an odd expression - you aren’t used to seeing Wally in a state of concentration.

“Hey, Wally!” you call.

Wally looks up at you and smiles. He beckons you over.

“Hello,” says Wally, in his simple way. “I’m happy to see you.”

Oh, what a beautiful voice. Every time you hear Wally speak, it’s like the gentle lapping of his syllables sweep away your worries in a single wave.

As you get closer to Wally, you notice a few strands of his deep blue hair turning flyaway and giving in to the heat, curling away from the otherwise-immaculate pompadour and escaping the death-grip of his hairspray. He’s a little dishevelled elsewhere, too; Wally’s neckerchief is coming loose, and though he’s long since abandoned his cardigan, a stray button on his shirt remains stubbornly popped. You find yourself grinning. Wally takes such pride in his appearance that you never get to see him a little less than perfect.

“Same to you!” you say. “Aren’t you hungry? All the food’s down with the others.”

That unusually pensive look on Wally’s face deepens. He turns his eyes back to his apple. “I can’t.”

“Why not?” You rummage in your backpack and pull out a chocolate bar. “You’ve got to eat, bud. You not feeling so good?”

Wally takes the treat from you and examines it for a moment, as if the bar is a scientific curiosity. “That’s very nice of you…but this doesn’t work for me. You should keep it.”

When Wally hands the bar back, your fingers touch for the briefest moment, and a shiver works its way up your spine.

You don’t know when this… thing you have for Wally Darling began. Despite the countless nights you’ve spent desperately trying to focus on something, anything else, your thoughts inevitably return to the little yellow puppet-man and his catlike smile. There’s a strange magnetism to Wally which befits his profession as a television host; everything from the delicate way he handles his paintbrush, to his ridiculous affinity for apples, leaves you with a little more fondness than before. Wally has so much affection stored in one small body, and when you first met, you wondered how any person could love so much all at once.

But now, when you look at Wally, you understand.

“If you’re sure.” You pop the bar back into your bag and sit on the ground in front of Wally, mirroring his cross-legged pose. “The offer’s still there.”

“It’s tempting,” says Wally, now turning his apple over and over in his hands. “I’d like to know what would happen, if I tried. But Barnaby told me it isn’t worth the risk. I trust him to know.”

You have no idea what he’s talking about, but the look on Wally’s face is so uncharacteristically brooding that you don’t feel it’s polite to pry. Wally’s always been the drifting sort: those large, dewy eyes of his are perpetually lidded, and always seem to be gazing at something no one else can see. But Wally’s inattentiveness is usually matched with an infectious, excited kind of energy, bursting with nonsense and love.

Today, he almost looks sad. The idea makes you feel sick.

It occurs to you that this may be a personal issue, and Wally doesn’t know you well enough to discuss it. So you ask, “Do you want me to look away?”

Wally’s fingers still. To your surprise, the apple actually drops from his hands and rolls into the grass. You’ve never seen Wally mistreat an apple before - there must be something seriously wrong.

“Actually,” says Wally, now looking at you properly, “I’d like to try something.”

He gestures for you to shuffle closer. When you do, Wally reaches forward and takes hold of your forearms. You make a surprised noise, but Wally squeezes you, and fixes you with a smile full of reassurance and warmth. A rush of heat leaps into your cheeks, and you’re suddenly reminded of an interaction you had with another neighbour not too long ago.

It was only a week after you arrived in the Neighbourhood, and you were finally moving the last of your belongings into your home. All of your new neighbours had graciously donated their time to help you in some fashion, and you were overcome with gratitude. On that final day you were more than capable of doing the rest of the moving yourself, but your closest neighbour - the excitable Julie Joyful - volunteered to help with the last handful of delicate items. At first, you were unsure - Julie is a lovely girl and incredibly fun to be around, but so spirited that you feared for the safety of your items. But a good twenty minutes of allowing her to help with the least fragile of your boxes allayed all your fears: Julie moves with the grace of a ballerina, and the two of you soon had all your boxes stacked in your living room.

Burnt orange sunlight poured through the window, streaming soon-to-be-dusk and casting the wooden floorboards with a vibrant glow. You take a moment from the heavy lifting to look out the window. Across the lawn, you can make out a couple of your neighbours engaging in some game. Upon closer inspection, you realise it’s Wally and Barnaby, the former laughing and tossing a series of colourful balls for Barnaby to catch.

You watched as Wally swung his arm and threw a few of the balls a surprising distance, letting the large, spotted dog race off to retrieve them. Wally put his hands on his hips, as if exhausted by the exertion. He turned - and locked eyes with you. Wally’s face broke out into a huge grin, and he gave you a hearty wave. Feeling horribly embarrassed, you waved back, trying to ignore the painful squeezing of your heart. You’ve only known Wally a week, and yet you’re utterly charmed by everything he does.

A tug on your arm brought you back to the present: it’s Julie. She bats her long eyelashes at you, a knowing smile on her face.

“You like hiiiiim, ” she teased, her voice all sing-song.

“What?!”

You grabbed Julie by the shoulders and yanked her away from the window, as if Wally could somehow hear you both through sight. “No! I don’t know where you got an idea like that-”

“It’s okay, sweetie. You don’t need to pretend.”

Your face felt like it was on fire. You’d always been the careful type, ensuring your innermost thoughts and feelings stayed stuffed as far down as possible to keep you safe. But the Neighbourhood bred a kind of emotional honesty with which you were totally unfamiliar. Everyone is so exuberant, always wearing their hearts on their sleeves - some of them even literally, as plenty of your new neighbours wore outfits stitched with cute little hearts! Keeping a secret in the Neighbourhood felt wrong…even a secret crush on the silly little artist whose smile lit up your insides.

So, you give in. “How did you know?”

Julie giggles. She fishes in the pocket of her dress, and pulls out a daisy.

“I know a lot about flowers,” she explained, as she twirled the stem between her fingers. “What kinds grow in different meadows. How much sun and water and love they need to grow. They show it in their petals, and how they lean. People are a lot like that too.

“When you arrived, you looked…wilted. Like you’d been kept out of the sun for too long. I could see it, but didn’t want to ask why. I think everyone else could, too…and we all wanted to help a new friend who lost their colour.”

“You’ve all been so lovely to me,” you said, by way of thanks.

Julie nodded. “Sure we have! And it worked, for a little bit. But for a flower at the end of its days, even fresh soil, plenty of sun and lots of water can only do so much. Your petals seemed faded for good. And that’s okay. I just wanted you to be happy - whatever that looks like for you.”

You swallowed. “You see a lot, for a gardener.”

Julie smiled. “When you care for flowers, you learn to listen to their needs. Sometimes, you’ll have a flower who has everything in the world…but they’re still curling up, and shying away from the light.”

She pressed the daisy into your palm.

“Wally brings the colour back to your petals,” said Julie. “Do yourself a favour. Don’t hide from your sun.”

Another squeeze from Wally brings you out of your recollection. You suck in a deep breath, facing this new reality of Wally holding you, his fingers pleasantly warm and fuzzy.

“Close your eyes,” says Wally gently.

For anyone else, you would’ve paused - but for Wally, you comply immediately.

Slowly, you feel Wally’s hands slide down your arms to your hands. He threads his fingers through yours and holds them firm, so tight that you start to feel your blood thrumming from the pressure. Your hearing, sensitive now your sight is compromised, picks up the distant chatter of your neighbours, as well as the friendly sounds of nature at play. Your skin tingles, sweat-slicked from the heat and the nerves.

“I have a question,” says Wally, his voice wonderfully calm and soft.

“Yes?”

“Why do you eat?”

“Uh…” What kind of question was that? Wally is admittedly prone to posing questions that only a truly strange mind would think up, but this one is so baffling, you’re thrown entirely for a loop. “...So I don’t die, I guess?”

“Ha ha ha ha!” Wally’s unique, halting laugh almost startles you into opening your eyes. “You’re so funny. Okay. Do you know why I eat?”

This time, it takes you a little longer to answer. A simple enough question, surely with the exact same answer? But Wally’s voice has taken on a teasing, knowing edge - a sound you recognise from when he’s setting up a punchline. The question must be a trick. So you rack your brains, trying to think of all the times you’d seen Wally eat: where he was, what he was eating.

With your eyes still closed, you reach a strange realisation.

“I…I don’t think I’ve ever seen you eat.”

A soft chuckle from Wally. “That’s right. You haven’t.”

Wally’s grip on your hand tightens. Strangely, a weak, static noise buzzes to life, seemingly from inside your skull. You shift, trying to locate the source, but Wally holds you in place. As the noise grows, the sounds of your friends fizzle out and die. It’s as if you’ve been placed on an invisible train and are moving steadily down the track, away from all the familiar sounds of your Neighbourhood - but you can’t feel the rumbling of the track, or hear the whistle of the wind.

“But…maybe you should.”

With Wally’s words the temperature noticeably drops, and gooseflesh breaks out on your arms. You shudder, wanting to open your eyes but finding that you can’t: your eyelids feel impossibly heavy. You’re stuck in place, pinioned to the grass (which you can no longer feel) as that buzzing sound inches up by the decibel, a nasty, steady crawl which leaves your brain awash in a sea of noise.

“Open your eyes.”

You do so.

And you can’t make sense of what you see.

The sky is gone. The tree is gone. The meadow is gone. Every detail from the Neighbourhood’s comforting landscape has evaporated, leaving nothing behind but a grayscale emptiness which fuzzes in and out like television static. Even the awful buzzing sound abruptly falls away, leaving your ears with nothing but the distant sound of an unseen tide.

Wally still sits in front of you, his hands grasping yours, but it’s like he’s sitting on nothing at all: somehow supported by a cushion of emptiness. It’s like the texture of the world has fallen out of reality.

Seized by vertigo, you tighten your grip on Wally’s hands. “What’s happening?!”

“Don’t worry,” says Wally. “You’re safe.”

“There’s nothing here,” you whisper. “Where is everyone?”

“Back Home,” says Wally. “They can’t see us right now. They’re not ready.” His smile turns coy. “But I think you are. Watch this.”

Wally reaches over and rustles in your backpack. Your heart crawls into your mouth; although you can see Wally’s hands in front of you, you can somehow still feel his hands holding both of yours, keeping you locked in place. You try to look down and make sense of this impossibility, but your eyes are stuck, glued to Wally’s face. You can only watch, terrified, as he takes out your chocolate bar and locks in his gaze.

Without warning, Wally’s eyes flare open, heavy lids drawing back and revealing the full size of his large, black pupils. Wally’s stare travels steadily down the chocolate bar, a focused intensity searing from his eyes like a laser. Somehow as he stares, bite marks are chunked out of the chocolate, as if some great invisible person is taking enormous chomps out of both the bar and wrapper. In seconds, the chocolate is gone.

Panic grips your chest, and you start to hyperventilate. The world tilts, and you’re scared you might actually puke. Wally blinks, his eyelids half-blanketing those pupils once more, and he looks at you with concern. When his eyes connect, your chest convulses with panic: a type of terror you’ve never experienced before threatening to claw its way out of your body and devour you whole.

“What happened?!”

“Oh, don’t be scared,” says Wally, his voice floating and cloudlike. “This is just how I eat.”

“How - did you - do - that?” you gasp.

“I’m not sure. I’ve always eaten this way.” Wally inclines his head in sympathy. “I am sorry if I’ve made you afraid. I usually only eat when others are blinking. That way, I don’t interrupt them. I don’t want to be rude."

You suck in a huge gulp of breath. “Wally, this is…impossible,” you manage. “I want to leave - I want to go Home-”

“You can’t.”

Wally shakes his head mildly from side to side, but his eyes seem to stay still, locked into the centre of his face. No matter how much you strain to move, those incredible eyes remain right in front of you, always at the same distance, never looking away - and never blinking. In your peripheral vision, you see Wally’s hand reach up towards your face. He cups your cheek. The sensation of feeling three arms belonging to a two-armed person on your body sends a rush of nausea through your throat. Wally strokes your skin with his thumb.

“You understand me so well,” says Wally. “You see me, don’t you?”

“I don’t understand.” Another wave of dizziness rises up, pushing behind your eyeballs. The sensation is the same as the pressure of allergies arising on a high pollen day - yet you can no longer smell the flowers of the meadow. You try again in vain to rip your gaze away from Wally’s, but you can’t - and you’re finding it harder and harder to keep your eyes open.

Wally’s thumb stops, resting in the dip of your cheek. “I love my friends, but they only see one part of me. The part they want to see. But you…”

His thumb trails to the edge of your lip.

“...you see all of me.”

You’re split in two. Your brain, the logical part of your thinking, is screaming at you to do anything - to move, to scream, to run as fast as you can into the nightmare emptiness and beg for help. But the other part of you - your traitorous, emotional heart - douses the runaway fire of your fear with the intoxication of Wally’s touch. You find yourself leaning into his hand, savouring how perfectly his cheek cups your palm, and the slight fuzz of his thumb teasing your lip.

“I do,” you whisper. Suddenly, your body relaxes, and you slump forward. You feel very tired. The panic which gripped your body only moments ago is now quashed, flattened into a fine layer of dust by the weight of Wally’s impossibly black eyes. Now your nervous system is nothing but the aftermath: the feeling of fight-or-flight chemicals settling into your bloodstream, leaving you weak and sluggish.

Now, Wally’s eyes are not a source of terror. They’re a blanket you wish to curl up beneath, and never wake up.

“I think you’re special, you know,” says Wally. “The way I feel when I’m around you is…different, than with the others. You’re the absolute most.”

Wally’s words settle over your brain like a dream. You watch, your eyes heavy and drained, as Wally brings his hands up to his chest and forms the shape of his heart with his fingers. You’re no longer scared of the physical contradictions of Wally holding your hands whilst signing his affection. It seems in this reality, Wally can have as many hands as he wants.

This is why Wally’s next question confuses you so:

“Do you think if our friends saw me like this…they’d run away?”

Wally’s words are becoming harder to process. The world around him tunnels. Even though you’re sure that you’re fixed in place, sitting on some immovable, textureless cushion, Wally’s eyes grow larger, encroaching evermore on your limiting field of vision. The longer you look, the more of Wally’s scleras are swallowed by his expanding pupils. Those blown, void-black pools seem to come with their own gravity, and you’re slipping into their inconceivable pull, ready to be strewn and stretched and ripped apart by their physics.

“Oh, Wally,” you try to say, but your tongue slackens, and his name comes out as, ‘Waaalllllyyyy.’ “We love you so much. You can’t make us run away.”

Wally smiles, and you think it’s the saddest thing you’ve ever seen.

“How I wish that were true.”

Suddenly, Wally’s eyes shift just the slightest bit to the left. The effect is like unsealing a pressure chamber. For a moment you are released from his eyes, and your brain and body scramble as one, free-falling and bracing to break against the ground with a hypnic jerk. However, Wally realises his mistake and grabs you by the shoulder - another impossible arm - and forces you to look back into his eyes.

“Shh. Don’t strain yourself. The more you resist, the worse you’ll feel.”

You blink rapidly, trying to reorient yourself in space. Wally’s touch grounds you again, holding you steady in this non-existent space. You try to reply, but your mouth now hangs open, jaw useless. Saliva collects in a pool under your tongue, but Wally still keeps his thumb at the edge of your lip, now rubbing soothing circles against your flesh.

“We don’t have much time,” says Wally. “But…thank you for this. You can’t know how much I appreciate you.”

The warm flush of his approval works its way through your unresponsive body. Your muscles contract, dopamine and serotonin coating your insides and bringing your fingers - still interlocked with Wally’s - into a sudden contraction. You force your mouth into a speech-ready shape, fuelled by his words and his touch and the sheer paradox of his being, and you try so desperately to say, ‘Wally, I love you- ’

But then he looks away.

The spell is broken. Like flipping to another television channel, the world around you snaps back into place in one vivid bound. All the colour, sounds and scents of the Neighbourhood re-enter your senses in one huge burst, and the force of it almost knocks you over. Wally - who is still holding your hands, just like before - keeps you steady, crushing your hands together like he would rather die than let go.

“Hey, you two!”

Looking away from Wally feels like ripping off a plaster. Your eyes alight on Julie trotting up the meadow’s slight incline, clutching a hotdog in one hand and a cooler in the other.

“Eddie wanted me to tell you we’re packing up,” Julie chirps. “Looks like a thunderstorm is coming.” She looks down at your hands, still intertwined with Wally’s, and grins. “Am I interrupting something?”

“Just some good old-fashioned fun,” says Wally, his voice impassive and gentle.

The ability for words has deserted you. You stare back at Wally, searching desperately for something supernatural in the darks of his eyes. Wally looks normal - as normal as a small, yellow puppet can - and his eyes are back to their half-lidded, sleepy-looking state. It takes a couple of nudges with his foot for Wally to bring you back to earth.

Wally lets go of your hands, and you can feel the blood pumping in the spaces between your fingers. You try standing up, but your legs are weak and wobbly, as if you’d just run a marathon while sitting in one spot. They would’ve collapsed beneath you, but Wally catches you before you slip. He hauls you up and loops his arm around yours.

“Just hungry,” Wally says with a smile. “Let’s get you Home."

Julie leads the way down the small embankment, with Wally supporting your timid, uneasy steps. You soon reach your neighbours, now busying themselves in tidying up the remnants of your picnic. Upon seeing you, they all crowd around, asking if you’re okay. Barnaby remarks that you look terribly pale, and Sally offers to bring you a drink. However, Wally shoos them off, admonishing them in a familial sort of way. He reassures them that you’ve just had a small fainting spell, and need to get some rest.

Now free of the others, Julie, Wally and yourself make the way home - and you’re thankful it’s only a short distance. When you finally reach your porch you want to fall over onto the steps, but Wally keeps you held upright: a firm, reassuring presence at your side.

“You need to tell us if you get this again, okay?” says Julie, looking at you with worry in her eyes.

“Okay,” you say, giving a weak nod.

“Thank you. Feel better soon, okay?”

Julie gives you and Wally a final glance over. Having determined you’ll be more than fine in Wally’s care, she bids her goodbyes and skips off to help the rest of your neighbours.

“Ha ha ha,” laughs Wally. “Julie is a good friend. I’m lucky to have her in my life.”

You look sideways at Wally. He catches your eye, and dips his head in a nod. “I feel the same way about you,” he says.

The question is implied in his voice - a little waver at the edge of his words.

“Wally…I don’t really understand what happened today,” you say. “But…I know it doesn’t change how much I like you."

The beam that dawns on Wally’s face is so wide, it almost cracks in two. “Thank you,” he whispers.

You can’t help but return the grin. “Thank you for being vulnerable with me.”

Wally lets go of your arm, and turns to face you properly. He reaches up one hand, and then hesitates, his eyes flickering back and forth between yours as if pondering a question.

Finally, Wally leans in and gives you a small, gentle kiss on the cheek. You inhale sharply, your arms hanging limply by your side and your fingers curling into questioning shapes. His mouth is plush and downy, and the impression of his lips sends a toasty-sweet feeling rocketing through your body.

When Wally pulls back, his yellow skin is dusted pink about his cheeks.

“Always know,” he says softly, “that I love you very much.”

Then, he’s leaving. You watch in stunned silence as Wally’s back retreats into the distance, making his way to join the throng of your neighbours. A slight rumble in the distance makes you look up: a cluster of thunderclouds gather at the edge of the Neighbourhood, fat with the promise of rain.

You touch your lips gently, and smile. Then, you retreat inside the safety of your home…with the warm memory of Wally’s kiss playing in your mind, and static still buzzing in your fingers.

#wally darling x reader #wally darling x you #wally darling #welcome home #welcome home arg #julie joyful #frank frankly #eddie dear #poppy partridge #barnaby b. beagle #sally starlet #howdy pillar #starleskawrites #welcome home fic

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marblemoovt · 3 years ago

Text

I (Absolutely) Do (not) - Mondo Owada/Reader

Masterlist

Rating: Teen

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: None, just good ol’ fluff and angst (happy ending)

Summary:

Today's the big day. Today you're finally going to marry your fiancé.

Note:

I am currently posting a few of my old works from Wattpad onto ao3, and now tumblr! Keep in mind that most of these are probably a couple of years old. And while they might make me cringe, as old writing tends to do, I don't think I'll ever rewrite any of them due to sheer laziness. I hope you enjoy reading these tho!

─── ⋆ ｡ﾟ☆: *. ☽ .* :☆ﾟ｡⋆ ───

The chime of the church bells startles you out of your thoughts. Today's the big day! Today you're finally going to marry your fiancé! After being engaged for more years than you can count, they agreed to picking a day and hosting a ceremony. The setting wasn't ideal. At first, you proposed a simple wedding with a few friends and family, but your fiancé insisted on something grander and more extravagant. So here you are, in a church, having a wedding with barely anyone you know on the guestlist --most of your friends had cancelled due to conflicting schedules.

Your fingers fidget, and it becomes increasingly difficult to not scrunch up the fabric of your wedding attire in your hands. Instead, you drum your fingers on the table in an anxious fit. A knock on your door sends a jolt through your heart, and you nearly fall off your seat. Rising from the chair, you hastily make your way to the door, hoping it's your fiance sneaking away to see you.

"How's it goin', Soon-to-be partner of F/n?" a familiar voice says, throwing your hopes into the dumpster. (F/n stands for your fiancé's name. Forgive me for the awkward term usage. It's very difficult to find a gender-neutral term for relationships/marriage.)

"Mondo?" You open the door to reveal a dressed up Mondo in his snazzy white biker outfit. He never wears those clothes unless it's a special occasion or he's kicking some ass. "You certainly look fetching today, Mondo," you snicker to yourself.

"Hey! Don't laugh at me! I was told that ya gotta wear white to a wedding," he grumbles, refusing to admit to his blunder. You stare at him, waiting for some sort of punchline, but this is Mondo we're talking about, and he rarely jokes around.

"Traditionally, wearing white is something the bride does. Not to say that other people can't wear white, but often it's the bride who has to wear white."

"Oh..."

"But honestly! You look great in white! It really, um, accentuates your manliness?" You grin and shoot him a couple of finger guns in an attempt to wipe the unamused frown that's starting to settle on his face. He sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose.

"It's a miracle you're getting married, ya know that?" His words make you sputter, and you slap his shoulder half-heartedly.

"I know, I know. Someone like me settling down seems impossible-"

"No, dumbass. I'm talkin' 'bout how you're gettin' married after being engaged for so long. I thought I was gonna have to pummel some sense into that piece of shit." Mondo interrupts you to prevent any misunderstanding, flicking your forehead. You pout and ruffle his pompadour in retaliation. He clicks his tongue and tries to repair the damage while giving you a serious look. "Listen, ya gotta stop with that self depricatin' humour. It ain't funny, and it ain't true."

"It's my wedding day, and you're still going to badmouth my fiancé?" You try to steer the conversation away and ignore his last remark. He frowns at the change of subject but decides to drop it.

"I told ya since day one. I don't trust that snake. You told me that they slithered into someone else's bed while you were gone."

"That was different, Mondo! Our class was missing for two years; they thought I died!" You try to justify your fiancé's actions, choosing to believe in their love for you. Clearly, Mondo is annoyed at how blinded you are by your feelings.

"Ditch those fuckin' rose-tinted glasses, Y/n. It doesn't take a genius to see how shady it was when they asked you to marry 'em after not seein' you for two years! How long did it take for you to have this ceremony? How many times did you doubt whether you would actually get married to them?" He begins to poke holes in your beliefs. Turning your head away, you refuse to meet his eyes, not wanting to acknowledge the possibility you've been played. "Damn it, Y/n! Look at me! Look me in the fuckin' eyes and tell me that this is what you want! To get married to someone who continues to grow distant from you, who leaves you crying alone at 2 am! Cause it sure as hell ain't what I want for you."

You bite your lip, knowing that he's only trying to look out for you in his usual brash way. You hadn't noticed, but your knuckles had turned white from gripping your arms. Taking a shaky breath, you walk to the door and open it. "Please, I need to be alone right now."

"Y/n...."

"I know." He walks up to you, and you pat his arm. "I know you're only looking out for me... because I would do the same. But I really need to be alone right now, need to think for a bit and get my thoughts in order." You know how riled up the both of you get when a spat happens, so you decide it's for the best if you cool off before continuing the conversation. Mondo grimaces and nods his head.

"Well, ya better think hard. Cause there's somethin' important inside that head of yours that you're forgettin'."

"What do you mean? Is there something about my fiancé I'm supposed to recall?"

"No, it's not that. I would prefer if you forgot about the bastard entirely. Just... don't forget the celebration gift I gave ya. You did promise you'd wear it on your wedding day," he says bitterly, but he sees your confused expression and dismisses his words. "Nevermind, I'll be out near my hog if ya need me." He walks out the door, closing it behind him. The click of the door sends a wave of sadness to wash over you, leaving the room silent with only the periodic chimes of the church bells. Was this really what you wanted? Was it too much to expect your fiancé to still love you after going missing for two years? You begin to nervously chew on your nails, the glint of the engagement ring glimmering on your ring finger. Taking a brief pause, you slide the ring off your finger and stare at it intently. To disperse any feelings of doubt, you leave the room to search for your fiancé, hoping to strengthen your resolve over marriage.

Luckily for you, their dressing room is only down the hall. You quietly walk down the corridor, not wanting to attract any attention from the guests. Remembering that you also forgot your breakfast donut in their room when you were sneaking flowers for your fiancé, you make a mental note to eat it if your fiancé hasn't already found and ate it before you. You stop in front of the door. However, the door is slightly ajar. Out of curiosity, you decide to take a peek before knocking on the door, but to your horror, you see your fiancé kissing another person. Your fiancé is blocking the view of the other person, but things grow heated, and you watch as your fiancé hoists them up onto the table. You hold your breath. If they could just turn a little, you can catch a glimpse of the cheeky minx your fiancé is passionately making out with. They pull apart with giggles and lingering touches between them; it makes your heart feel queasy.

"We can't keep this up for long. The ceremony is in twenty minutes," a feminine voice says in a breathy tone. You freeze. There's something so familiar about that voice that it's unsettling.

"Darling, twenty minutes is all we need," your fiancé replies, launching an assault on the other party. Laughter erupts, and you feel your knees buckle. A strong pair of arms catch you before you hit the floor, turning you away from that horrid sight. You don't remember what happens next, only that you're picked up and carried outside to the hidden garden at the side of the church. Hands gripping the collar of a white trenchcoat, you numbly turn your head to see a familiar pompadour and those violet eyes that you've forgotten you adored.

".....Mondo?"

He turns to you, a furious expression on his face. "You saw nothin', ya got that? Wipe that disgusting memory from your mind!" His eyes soften when he notices that you're trembling. He tries to set you down on a bench, but you refuse to let him go, so he sighs and sits down with you in his arms. "Didn't I tell ya they're a real piece of shit?" You nod slowly, burying your face into his shoulder. He pats your back and says, "Look, if you wanna cry, I ain't gonna stop you. Let it all out so that we can go back inside and kick some ass."

You laugh, but your laughter turns into hiccuping, and your hiccuping turns into sobbing. Crying into his shoulder, Mondo strokes your back in comfort and waits for you to finish. "I was supposed to get married today," you sniffle.

"I know. At least you found out what kind of trash they really are."

"To think that they were cheating on me!"

"Yeah! how dare they!"

"On my wedding day!" you shout furiously.

"What a shitty person!" Mondo continues hyping you up.

"With my own mother!" you shriek.

"Ye-- wait, what?" He pauses in shock. "You're joking, right?" He looks at your tear-stained face, and his expression falls. "Oh shit, you're actually serious." Mondo ponders for a minute before mumbling, "I always knew they were a motherfucker." You gasp. Trying to laugh and a stuffy nose created the byproduct of a weird mating call that whales use. Mondo lets out a chuckle, the vibrations rumbling off his chest and sending tingles through your body.

"So much for getting married," you sigh, the disappointment clearly showing on your face.

"It's not like ya have to specifically marry them. Hell, you're sittin' on the lap of the hottest biker in the world." He tries to cheer you up, which works wonderfully as you giggle, the corners of your mouth twitching into a smile.

"You are wearing white... You can be my bride!" You chuckle, tears forming in your eyes at the thought of Mondo finding a veil big enough to cover his pompadour --or would he just cut a hole instead? Regardless, the image brought a blush to your cheeks.

"Fuck, you really have no idea what ya do to me." He gazes at you and brushes away some of your tears with his thumb. "C'mon, we got a wedding to crash and a fiancé to beat up!" He stands up, and you set your feet on the ground, taking his hand that he offered to you. You walk through the doors, and suddenly, a priest grabs your arm. You notice he's out of breath with sweat dripping down his forehead.

"Goodness me, child. Where have you been? Your fiancé and mother are worried sick. They couldn't find you anywhere. We must hurry; the ceremony is starting." The oblivious priest guides you to the grand double doors that lead to the alter. You frantically look behind you to see Mondo clenching his fists before storming outside. Disappointed, you let the priest guide you and begin walking down the aisle once the band starts playing the wedding march. You see your fiancé standing at the alter, but their eyes aren't focused on you; their eyes are focused on your mother. It feels nauseating to be the only person in the room who's aware of the adultery that was committed several minutes ago, which you don't even know when it started.

Reaching the alter, you feel relieved that you manage to maintain a neutral expression as your fiancé smiles at you and the vows are read.

"Do you, F/n, take Y/n as your wedded spouse, to have and to hold, for better, for worse, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do you part?"

"Absolutely! I mean, I do," your fiancé stumbles, earning a few chuckles from the audience, but it left a foul taste in your mouth. The priest then reads the vows for you, and you take a deep breath before answering.

"I..." Your fiance gazes at you expectantly, but you notice their eyes shifting away from your face and glancing at the front row where your mother is seated.

"I absolutely do not!" You declare, shocking even the priest. Your mother quickly rises from her seat and tries to persuade you.

"Oh, Y/n. If it's cold feet you're having, don't worry! Marriage is great, and you love F/n." She tries to reassure you, but you brush her off.

"Why don't you marry them then! I saw you two practically fucking in the dressing room twenty minutes before the reception was supposed to start!" you shout at your mother. The crowd and even the priest gasps. Everyone is whispering amongst themselves, unsure of what's going on.

Your 'fiancé' butts in. "Now, Y/n. I'm sure this is all a misunderstanding. Are you sure that's what you saw?"

"I'm sure of what I saw. But maybe I should get my vision checked because I don't even know what I saw in you in the first place!"

Your fiancé feigns hurt and continues to remain ignorant in front of the many eyes watching them. "You can't just accuse me of something you have no proof of, Y/n. Honestly, I'm quite hurt that you think I would do something like that."

Your mother turns to calm down the audience when you notice a giant stain on the bottom of her dress.

"Boston cream..." you mumble.

"What? This isn't time to be thinking about food," your fiancé frowns.

"No! I left my donut in your room when I went to put flowers on your desk! I watched you and mother make out on top of the desk. That stain is proof that she was sitting on your desk! How else could she have gotten that distinct chocolate glaze and cream filling on her dress?!" Your fiancé flinches, and your mother swoops in to try and save them.

"I was checking the catering when a waiter ran into me."

"Bullshit," you retort.

"Y/n, it's really not a big deal. Why don't we continue with the ceremony? You won't meet another nice fiancé like F/n again."

"No! Marriage this and marriage that! It's always you insisting... that I get... married," you finish in a hushed tone. "I didn't survive the antics of a psychopathic bear for two years just to marry some trash I don't even like!" Your head throbs, and you bring a hand up to soothe the pain in your temple. "Holy shit," you mumble to yourself. "I-I never wanted this. Why did I agree to do this?" Furrowing your brows, you try to remember why you agreed to this engagement. You vaguely recall being engaged, but why wasn't it with F/n?

Your mother panics and grabs your hands. "I did this for your own good, Y/n. I couldn't have you marry a biker --a biker, Y/n!" She continues to ramble on, her eyes freaking you out. "We can share. It's no big deal. It was so lonely when you were gone, but F/n kept me company. We can keep each other company from now on." Her grip tightens to the point of it being painful, but you're unable to wriggle out of her iron hold over you. "Oh, you should have just eaten your donut like a good kid. If you had eaten it, none of this would have happened." You manage to wrench her hands off of you and shove her away. Your mother has clearly gone insane during the time you disappeared... has she been spiking your food?

You narrow your eyes at your ex-fiancé. "Were we ever dating?" You ask. Your memories are a jumbled mess currently, and you can no longer recall what happened when you came home after escaping Hope's Peak Academy.

"Only for a month or two before you went missing. I only dated you to get closer to your mom," they admit, to which you reply with a punch to their face. The audience cheers, and some even whistle, which makes you feel like a total badass. The sound of an engine revving catches everyone's attention, and a familiar figure comes blasting down the aisle on a motorcycle.

"Mondo!" You brighten up upon seeing him. With your back turned, you're unaware of the blow your ex-fiancé is about to deliver for that punch you gave them. A blur of white flashes past you and the shrieks of F/n echo in the room.

"You fucker!" You turn around to see Mondo lifting them up before smashing their face into the wedding cake that was conveniently placed near the altar. He dusts off his hands before confidently strutting towards you and carries you in his arms.

"Where have you been," you whisper, the blood rushing to your cheeks.

"Pickin' up some of your things. You're obviously movin' in with me after that shitshow." You notice that a duffel bag is sitting in the sidecar, presumably holding your belongings.

"You can't leave, Y/n! The ceremony isn't finished!" your mother wails, flinching when she sees your icy glare. Mondo sets you down on the bike before sitting in front of you. He kicks up the kickstand, and you flip your middle finger at your mother and her lover.

"Fuck both of you! I'm moving out!" you shout right before Mondo speeds out of the reception hall, leaving everyone in a state of confusion. You laugh and whoop in joy as the wind runs through your hair. Mondo glances back and smiles at your state of excitement. "Did you see the look on their faces?!"

"Yeah, the two of them looked 'bout ready to shit themselves. Ya did good, Y/n." You can feel the warmth radiating off his back as you tighten your hold around his waist. Suddenly, you remember the engagement ring on your finger. You had slipped it back on earlier, but now you have no use for it. You remove the jewel-encrusted band and watch the road. Once you pass by a bridge, you toss the ring. A finger on your right hand glimmers.

"Mondo, do you remember where I got this ring?" you ask, gazing intently at the purple gem in the center of the ring.

"Course I do. I was the one who gave it to ya." You knit your brows.

"Is this the present you gave to me to celebrate something?" When he doesn't respond, you crane your neck to catch a glimpse of his face, noticing that it's bright red.

"It was to celebrate our engagement," he finally answers.

You exclaim in surprise, "We're engaged?!"

He nods solemnly and begins to explain everything to you from his perspective. He recounts how the two of you fell in love at the academy, how he proposed when everyone escaped, how you started to ignore him the night after and suddenly became engaged to someone else. "The gang's gonna lose their shit when they see ya!" he happily states, rambling on about how everyone missed seeing you.

"What now?" you ask, still staring at the ring --which is now on your left ring finger.

"Well, you did promise me you'd wear it on your wedding day." He pulls up to his biker gang headquarters. The building is decorated crudely in flowers with a sloppy hand-painted banner of Mondo's name and yours. Tears well up in your eyes, and you try to blink them away.

"Did you plan for this to happen?"

"I sure as hell wasn't gonna let you marry anyone else but me," he huffs, stepping off the bike and extending his hand to you. "I was even ready to snatch ya away if things didn't go as planned."

"But who will officiate our wedding?"

"Of course, it's gotta be my bro, Taka. Who else? Man's so talented, he's gonna be my best bro and our officiant!" You laugh at his words, glad that his bromance with Taka is still going strong. "You're fuckin' beautiful when you laugh, ya know that?" He admires your crimson face and cheekily plants a kiss on the corner of your mouth. "You'll look even better with Owada as your last name." He tugs your hand and leads you to the entrance. You walk through the door together and see all of your old classmates.

"Y/n!" they all shout happily. You grin, practically glowing from all the attention. Your friends cancelled going to the first wedding because they were busy attending your wedding with Mondo.

This is it, this is the wedding you wanted. A wedding surrounded by close friends in a place you cherish.

Mondo squeezes your hand. The two of you walk down the aisle together, where Taka is waiting with a dictionary in his hands. You eye the book and let out a small laugh.

"It was the best I could do on such short notice!" he says, profusely defending himself.

You stare lovingly at the man standing in front of you, his eyes glimmering like the gem on your ring.

Today's the big day; today you're finally going to marry your fiancé.

─── ⋆ ｡ﾟ☆: *. ☽ .* :☆ﾟ｡⋆ ───

End Note:

Holy shit, I re-read this and fell in love with it all over again. This is one of my all-time favourite works that I've written and I hope you guys love it even half as much as I do.

I noticed while skimming that I used Y/n in this work. I have come to personally prefer not using/reading it, so any current or future works I write will not have it. Although I know it can be a bit difficult in this regard because of wedding vows. I would like to add I will probably also try to avoid anything like f/n (friend's name), y/e/c (your eye colour). etc. Mostly for immersion reasons and my brain hates auto-filling in words.

This work is based on a prompt: "Twenty minutes before you are about to get married, you find your mother and your fiancé kissing passionately."

Reblogs are appreciated!

#danganronpa #mondo owada x reader #mondo x reader #mondo owada #danganronpa x reader #fluff and angst #angst with a happy ending #hurt/comfort #I can't tag too much without giving anything away and I hate it #Taka and Mondo bromance #We love to see it #You and Mondo get married #Banter #bamf reader #bamf mondo #established relationship?#tbh this is one of my favourites #gender neutral reader

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jojo-fantasy-aus · 4 years ago

Text

Fantasy AU!

Josuke x F! Reader- ch9

It takes two!

Minor TW for bullying.

Can't wait to see ya'll next week!

"So," Josuke starts. "What did you have in mind?" Shigetchi smiles, almost vibrating in excitement. You were all seated comfortably in the carriage, promptly entering when Shigetchi asked you to, and unfortunately, Shigetchi had a bit of a rambling habit. Finally, after a few minutes on the road to his villa, he stopped talking long enough for Josuke to get a word in.

"I'm throwing a party this weekend." Shigetchi paused as if he was expecting immediate praise, but the carriage was silent. Okuyasu whistled and started to clap out of pity.

"... anyway." Shigetchi rolled his eyes. " I thought it'd be a better fit for the three of you to gain some leverage on the whole rescue situation. Viscount Brimsey, his family, and his colleagues all will be attending." Your face scrunched up in disgust.

"Family?" The Viscount has only one family member to speak of. His daughter, a redhead named Gwendolyn, was intolerable. Just like her father, she was a Royal suck-up, only she was more of a spoiled brat than her father. Shigetchi nodded.

"Yeah. I'm not too 'xcited about that. His daughter's always been a… well," You frowned.

"Trust me, I know. She used to visit the palace during her summer vacations." That, and pay the stable boys to put mud under your pillows. She's always been a rather jealous thing, and you can't imagine how well a future meeting would go without Yukako by your side to defend you from the Royal menace. Okuyasu scratched the back of his neck, looking quite confused.

"What's so bad about her? I thought all those rich ladies are supposed to be hot, and well mannered, and..." You couldn't help yourself from laughing. Where in the world would he get that idea? Josuke sighed out of embarrassment, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Okuyasu, You've been reading too many newspapers." You giggled. Josuke's warm smile was a welcome sight at the action.

Shigetchi stretched widely, causing Okuyasu to shift uncomfortably next to him. He snatched a fancy flask from the inside of his coat pocket, taking a swig of something you hoped wasn't alcohol before shoving it away again. You could feel Josuke stiffen next to you. Wonder what was up with him?

"Anyway, if the three of you are up for it, I have jobs for you that I think will work perfectly for the information you're looking for." He smirks in an almost evil way. "What do ya say?"

----

"I can't believe you agreed to this." You muttered in a playful tone. All the jobs Shigetchi assigned to you were fitting, you as a server once again, Okuyasu as the guard just outside the doors, but out of all the jobs for him to give Josuke…

Apparently, he had caught Gwendolyn's eye while the three of you had been traversing the town over the past few days. Unfortunately for him, (and you) she had asked Shigetchi about him. After a little conversation with undoubtedly some bribery involved He agreed to get Josuke to be her escort. That's how you found out the real reason the kid had "invited" You all.

"She can't be that bad." You shook your head as you buttoned Josuke's borrowed tailcoat. He had no clue about this woman. He also had no clue on how to dress himself properly in such formal fashion, which was why you demanded to help him with his many layers. Honestly, it felt good to be this close to him.

"Oh please, she's like your worst date experience times ten."

"... well, I'm sure I'll be able to handle her." You rolled your eyes.

"Maybe. Rich girls like that tend to fall easily for a handsome face," Did you just say that out loud? Josuke stiffened a bit, and you prayed that it wasn't because you made him uncomfortable. You had to change the subject fast.

"Let's just hope she doesn't try insulting that hair of yours," you giggled a little awkwardly as Josuke ran a hand across his carefully styled pompadour defensively.

After finishing with his coat, and flittering around him to make sure everything was fine, you took a step back. You looked him up and down, appreciating how nice he looked in the clothes, even if they did look a little stuffy.

"You look great!" Josuke chuckled, a light blush on his cheeks. For a moment, but just a moment, he stopped, looking at you fondly with a smile. You smiled in return before a sudden look of shock flashed across his face.

"Hey! Before I forget…" You followed him with your eyes as he walked over to the grocery bags on the bed, pulling a round hat box out of the fray. You immediately recognized it from the same ones behind the counter at the market earlier today. Josuke walked over to you, holding out the box for you to take, and after a moment of confusion, you realized what he had done.

"You didn’t!" You gently scolded. He smiled, nudging the box forward again. You gently lifted the lid, a bright smile spreading across your face at the sight of the old hat.

"I meant to give it to you earlier, but with Shigetchi rolling in I didn't have time." You picket the hat up by the rim, holding it delicately in your hands. You were overjoyed, at first. But when the doubt sunk in it was impossible to get rid of.

The three of you only had so much money to use while you were here. Not to mention you weren't sure how long you would be away from your job. You were sure Okuyasu and Josuke weren't going to be paid by the foundation either. Why would he spend this money on you? There were so many other things you all had to worry about-

"But… Why this? Why for me?" Josuke paused, furrowing his brows at you with a sigh and setting the box back down in the bed. When he turned to look at you again it was hard to look away from his blue eyes.

"You deserve to enjoy the little things sometimes. Everyone does. Whether that little thing is an old, out of season hat or not." He started to reach out for you, but hesitated, sticking his hands in his pockets instead. "Plus, with everything going on, you gotta give back to yourself once in a while. Trust me, I know."

You smiled softly, that fluttery feeling blooming in your chest once more. Without thinking, you carefully set the hat back down in the box. Josuke looked like he was about to question you, but he didn't have time before you grappled him into a warm embrace.

Josuke returned the hug promptly. The two of you sat there for a good moment before a servant knocked on the door, letting you know that the guests have started arriving.

"I hope you're ready for this."

"Trust me, as long as you're around I'll be just fine."

----

It started just like any other party. With hands gingerly reaching out for oeuvres, simple gossip, sneering Nobles. It wasn't anything you hadn't seen before. It was easy to glide through the crowd, to catch snippets of conversation. Whatever you lacked in strength you definitely made up for in your ability to eavesdrop.

One by one businessmen and noblemen and their wives and family were announced at the door, every once in a while you'd glance up to see the faces entering. You tried not to let it get in the way of the job you were supposed to do, but when Gwendolyn Brimsey's name was announced you couldn't help but lookup.

What you saw made you go red in anger. It wasn't the fact that she was escorted by Josuke, or that she was smugly attached to his arm, it was the disgusting, powder pink dress she had on.

Wrong. That's what it was. It was wrong. The floral elements and lace were gone, replaced by satin and useless frills. The slim, A-line changed and puffed up with surely more petticoats than you could count. That was Yukako's dress. That was your mother's design. Or at least a cheap knockoff of the beauty that it was designed to be.

"Miss...?" You were startled out of your angry stare by one of the other servers. You smiled politely at the young man, hoping that the disgust hadn't been too evident in your face.

"Lord Yangu says that we should start serving champagne now."

"I'll be right there." You nodded, heading over to the kitchen. You pushed down the anger and disgust as you walked. Gwendolyn was not innocent as to what her display meant. That design was the last dress that Yukako was seen in. Your mother's dresses were remarkable. Each cut, design, frill- all of it was signature as your mother's specific tailoring. Everyone who looked at her knew. The only difference is that you knew she was begging to replace your best friend in the social circle of nobility.

You wove in and out of groups with the tray of champagne, trying your best to focus on what they were saying instead of the hate in your heart. You had a job to do, and no spoiled girl was going to take that from you.

"They say the duchess-"

"Oh! These are quite divine-"

"-and he said that to you? I'd-"

"... I can't wait till we can get that bitch out of our hair." The quick part of the conversation caught your ear. And you slowed for a moment, offering the tray to the others around you all the while Laser-focused in on the conversation, it wasn't hard to realize that it was once again the Viscount's goons from the dinner the night before. One out of the duo of men speaking shushed the other, glancing around before speaking softly.

"In more ways than one." The other scoffed. "I've been pulling my hair out for weeks with my stand-" There was that word again. Damn, it was so hard to tell what it meant based on context. Frustration aside, you knew that it was important to mention to Josuke. You busied yourself by refilling glasses around you, intent on listening to the remainder of the conversation.

At least, that was the plan. The high-pitched squeal of your name caught your attention. It was Gwendolyn, still attached to Josuke's side, and waving you over to her crowd with an empty champagne glass.

You begrudgingly trudged over with the bottle, making quick eye contact with Josuke before slowly filling glasses. After calling your name, Gwendolyn paid you no mind as she continued her conversation.

"Honestly, how did you find such a beautiful dress? It looks so much like the one Princess Yukako… " The woman trailed off as Gwendolyn shot her a glare. "It's incredible, I mean." Incredible was an exaggeration. You managed to hide your annoyance for the time being.

"I know~ I saw the design on some street in the royal city and just had to ask my seamstresses to recreate it!" You tried not to scowl outwardly. Gwendolyn was only mentioning it because she knew the shop was your mother's. It's like she's just trying to get under your skin.

"It's quite flattering on me, don't you think Josuke?"

"I-erhm," Josuke coughed politely, and unfortunately for him, she held his arm closer. The anger you felt now started to feel like a sad, stabbing pain as she did. Josuke's confident posture hardly changed through the conversation, despite his stuttering, and honestly. It hurt. You knew he was a lady's man, you had known since you met him. Did that fact stop you from being hurt? From being jealous? No. Should it have? You weren't sure.

"The dress is beautiful." His confident tone returned. "Who was the original designer?" Josuke's eyes flickered towards you for just a moment as you finished pouring their drinks. You had had quite enough and quickly walked away from them. You almost felt bad for leaving Josuke behind, but he looked like he could handle himself. He surely didn't need you to chaperone his little date.

----

Josuke honestly had no idea how he was going to go the whole night without snapping, and with you walking away from himself and the Red-head girl, angry and torn, he wasn't sure if he could.

He was distracted as the women continued to talk, following your form with his eyes as you faded into the party-goers.

"Sir Josuke?" He snapped out of his haze, turning towards Gwendolyn. He gave her a half-assed hum in response. Her face scrunched up in a mock-up anger.

"Were you even listening to me?" He smiled sheepishly. Damn, he has to think fast.

"No, sorry. I've been a little distracted, I haven't eaten yet today." Gwendolyn's face lit up into a smile again, waving the other noble Woman away as she led him by his arm. Josuke tried not to cringe. The feeling of her skin on his was just… It wasn't welcome. It didn't feel right. It didn't help the fact that he wasn't actually hungry.

She wasn't you.

"Oh! That's completely understandable!" Gwendolyn started walking over to the small table of savory appetizers, and he begrudgingly went along with her. He didn't want to respond when she kept talking. But the responsible part of him said otherwise.

"The food here is usually good, but honestly, the selection today is awful."

"Is it now? I thought everything was pretty good."

"Oh dear sir, you can't mean that. Look-" "Hate that- hate that. I'll only have caviar with truffle- oh! You should try the deviled eggs~"

Josuke smiled nervously as she shoved the egg in his face, offering to feed him. Oh no. No-no-no. He needed an excuse to get out of her grasp, and fast. Then, in a sudden moment, he spotted you across the room, heading into the kitchen. An idea flashed in his head, but he had no clue about the consequences that it would cause.

"I'm so sorry, but if you'll excuse me, I need to have a word with my friend over there-" He moved away from her tight grasp with ease, her strength nothing compared to his, but he caught his arm again, looking at him with an accusing, disgusted look.

"Friend? That servant is your friend?" Josuke stiffened. Maybe you were right about this woman. She was awful after all.

"Yes. She is. I'll see you again in just a moment." He said, turning curtly and staking away, all the while a polite smile played on his face.

Although a few groups closest to where they had been started to gossip, most guests were completely unaware as Josuke wove through the floor and over to you. Gwendolyn snarled at no one in particular, narrowing her eyes as Josuke walked away.

"Need any help with that?" The deep voice startled you, causing you to almost drop the tray of dessert in your hands. Two hands steadied you, and you scoffed at Josuke.

"What are you doing? Where's Gwendolyn?" At this point, you were somewhat concerned. Josuke smiled sheepishly, warm hands brushing against yours when he was satisfied that you wouldn't fall.

"Well…" After his short pause, it took less than a second to figure out what was happening. You smirked.

"You couldn't handle her, could you?" Josuke rolled his eyes, a smile still wide on his face.

"Let's just say I needed a quick break from the party." You laughed.

"Sure, but try not to get on her bad side in the process." You mused, lifting a finger to point to Gwendolyn, who was still staring at the two of you, a dirty look on her face you were sure that she would hide once Josuke turned around. And she did, scowl turning into a bright smile when the knight spotted her. She waved him back over, and he sent a quick nod back, turning to you again.

"What time does this thing end again?" You couldn't help but burst out laughing from his words, switching the tray over to one hand while you pushed him with the other. His dazzling smile flooded your chest with comfort before he said goodbye, and walked over to the woman he was escorting.

The rest of the night flew by for you, but you can't imagine how long it must've felt for both of your companions. Strangely, it felt nice to be working again. Your feet started to hurt from all the walking, and you savored the thought of how wonderful you would sleep tonight. Unfortunately for you, a pair of envious eyes caught your daydreaming look. A sharp tug of your earlobe made you yelp, and you stopped in your tracks.

"Pay attention, Churl. Or you'll lose your footing." You glared at Gwendolyn, remembering about politeness and appearances after, and shifting your face into a lin-lipped smile.

"Sorry miss, did you need something?" Her smile did nothing to hide the malice in her eyes.

"I need you to remember your place. Low-borns like you have no place mingling with nobility." So that's what this is about. It was laughable. She had only known Josuke for a few hours at most and yet she was still laying her claim on him. You'd seen it multiple times before, with other various young men at court who she simply couldn't give away to any other woman. She'd lash out at anyone who spoke to the man she had fixed her desires on until she had bored herself with him and moved on to the next.

It wasn't healthy, and you used to hope that she would get help. To be better. But that was when you could still see good in her. Now, all you could see was the entitled person who her father had made. You didn't want to disrupt your appearance as the mild-mannered, polite servant, but someone had to burst her bubble.

"Sir Josuke has every right to speak to anyone he wishes." You had more to say, but you stopped prematurely. You had said enough. She certainly wouldn't take it well if you continued to say that she certainly wasn't exclusive to his affection- attention. Attention.

You had to remember before you went any more down the rabbit hole that whatever relationship you had with Josuke- or whatever you wanted to have, was one-sided. You were pining over a man who wouldn't return your feelings, and yet you wouldn't give up his friendship for anything in the world. If you could just stay his friend, that would be enough for you.

You didn't stop to look at Gwendolyn's face before you turned away from her to walk back to the kitchen. You thought she had taken the words rather well until your foot caught on something.

The ground came fast, and when you hit the marble, the tray of deserts pushed into your stomach. After a moment that felt like an hour of you desperately trying to catch your breath, you sat up slowly, covered in the frivolous dessert. You scowled at the giggles and laughs of the girls behind you, and began scooping the mess off the floor and into the trey.

"Some servant you are, can't even walk without tripping over your own feet. How sad." Gwendolyn sneered at you. You promptly finished cleaning up to the best of your ability, and stood. The red-head stood in your way when you tried to leave however.

"First you were fired from the palace, and now you're failing Lord Yangu and Sir Josuke. I'd just quit now if I were you." Hell. No. Usually you knew when to hold your tongue, especially in situations and settings like this, but you had worked too hard for your place at the palace to let that disrespectful statement slide. You'd been through hell in back for both your station and your friends and this was your fucking snapping point.

"I wasn't fired from the palace, you'd know that if you plucked your head out of your ass during your summer trips and paid enough attention to Princess Yukako and the King to figure out that she wasn't going to let me go anytime soon. And another thing-"

You quickly snapped yourself out of your daydream, completely aware that such words could get you completely kicked out of both your mission to find Yukako and the inner circle of Viscount Brimsey. So instead, with hands shaky from adrenaline, you simply tipped the trey forward. A simple mistake for a shaky servant. You looked straight into Gwendolyn's eyes as a glob of cake fell on her infuriating intricate, powder pink dress.

"Oh, I'm so sorry! That's entirely my bad, madam. I'll bring you some towels after I clean myself up." You relished in the sounds of her immediate wailing. What you did not expect however, was the skinny teenager to grab you by the collar of your dress and seemingly ready herself to hit you. The trey slipped from your grip once more.

"You little twat! I'll-" A pair of strong hands separated the two of you, Josuke pulling you back from her and making sure the trey was held tightly in your grip. When did it- you were sure that you had just dropped it!

"There we go!" He smiled, face a complete contrast to his eyes, which burned with anger. "You still seem a bit shaky, I'll escort you to the kitchen." Gwendolyn huffed, but didn't say a word to Josuke as he led you away.

As soon as you stepped through the kitchen doors you set the tray down, hands shaking even worse now. God- you thought you had seen spoiled brats in your days at the palace, but this chick was impossible!

"Are you alright?" You rolled your eyes.

"Oh, sure. I'm just dandy." Josuke frowned at you, stepping closer.

"Look, you know she's hard to handle. Just try to make two more hours, alright? Just two more hours and you'll never have to serve her again." You scoffed at him, grabbing a kitchen rag from the cabinets to wipe off the sticky mess that used to be desert.

"You don't think I already knew that? I don't know what's changed but she's completely- it's like she's gone mad! She managed to turn worse than she used to be. I just don't understand how she's managed to inflate her ego so much since the last I saw her." You turned to the indoor water pump and grabbed a bucket, slowly filling it with enough water that you could rinse your arms. Josuke paused after your words, brows furrowed, thinking.

He was about to speak when Okuyasu burst through the kitchen doors, he scared the shit out of the both of you. The bucket almost knocked over until it rocked back onto its bottom, the water stilling unnaturally. When you turned, Josuke's gaze was still on you. Soft gaze shortly turning to Okuyasu as the loud man sighed.

" 'don't know about you guys, but I'm starting to think that this is a waste of time." He looked up, scanning faces in the room, immediately sensing the fading tension.

"Everythin' alright?"

----

The moment you got back home you went straight to your room without speaking to either of your companions. You were frustrated, angry, sad- today had been such a disaster. You sighed, folding back the covers on your bed and preparing yourself for bed. You had just finished changing out of your ruined clothes when someone knocked.

"Come in." You said, maybe a bit more sour than you had planned. Josuke enters, face already scrunched up in a concerned look. Fuck! You were so tired of that look- even if it was from Josuke, you were tired of being worried about. It's not like he actually… cared.

But you know he does.

It's just not in the way you wished it could be.

"What's wrong? You haven't said a word to Okuyasu or I since we got home." You huffed, busying yourself with removing the necklace and setting it down with unnecessary carefulness.

"I'm just not in the mood to talk, ok?!" You snapped. Josuke slowly approached you from the door, sitting down at the foot of your bed so that you couldn't ignore him or go to bed unless he moved.

"Is it about Gwendolyn?" You stiffened.

"Who else would it be about? Josuke, she humiliated me today." He frowned.

"I know. I'm sorry."

"Are you?..." You said, your tense shoulders had fallen. You felt dejected. Remembering just how she treated Josuke, how she touched him.

"She was all over you Josuke. I'm not sure you would've even noticed the accident if she hadn't been the one to do it." The words felt wrong as they fell out of your mouth, and the wrongness increased as josuke stood, insulted.

"I- you really think I wouldn't notice that?"

"I don't know!" You tore your eyes away from him, looking at the floor instead. Your insides felt like they were tearing themselves out.

"... I don't know." You repeated. Josuke started slowly walking towards you.

"Have you really not realized it yet?"

"What Josuke?! What could I possibly be missing right now besides a temper?" You said bitterly. Josuke's skin burned hot against your own as he grabbed your arms gently, staring straight into your eyes with an almost- an almost sad look. He lifted a hand to your cheek, caressing your face fondly. You tried your best to not melt into his touch. Regret immediately flooded you. Why were you acting so mean? So jealous? There was no point in it. Josuke deserves to love anyone he pleased. You certainly weren't on the table, you never would be-

Josuke called your name.

"I am hopelessly, irrevocably, in love with you."

#it takes two fic #josuke imagine #josuke x reader #josuke headcanons #jjba x reader #jjba reader insert #jjba fantasy au #josuke higashikata #josuke 4 #jjba josuke

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yukipri · 5 years ago

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Hi! I really liked your Mermaid AU and cats, it made my day everytime you post a new part or their cuteness 😊 ❤. Though, I would like to know how the Baratie Arcs go in your Mermaid AU, especially Sanji's reaction on seeing Luffy as a mermaid and Ace's reaction on Sanji's... oh and how did Thatch and Sanji had their.... competition for Luffy's love? Thank you!

Thanks so much for enjoying my AU and my cat pics <3

Ok! So answering this one ahead of the cue, bc it’s easier for me to answer East Blue questions, and I have some thoughts!

So On the Baratie and Sanji meeting the ASL Pirates.

Here’s a mini story! Contains Sanji x Luffy.

It's an ordinary day at the Baratie, with the usual shitty customers, the usual starving travelers, and the usual scarce but lovely ladies. Sanji doesn't expect today to be any different. But then, a miracle happens.

A mermaid walks in.

Sanji's sure his heart stops, and his brain almost does too. It's his dream to go to Fishman Island one day to frolic with the legendary beautiful mermaids that are said to live there, and it's a dream only second to finding All Blue. A slightly more tangible one too, since Fishman Island actually has a physical location on the world map, but Sanji digresses.

He'd never have imagined finding a mermaid in East Blue, and yet here one is, she's real and she's inside the Baratie.

Sanji doesn't really stop to consider how a mermaid can "walk."

Everything feels muted, and Sanji feels like he's floating on clouds as he makes his way towards the group at the door. He vaguely notes how many are in their party, but the others are a blur; he only has eyes for his angel, his aquatic goddess, his dream given physical form who has come to bless Sanji's mortal soul.

Up close, the mermaid's even lovelier. She has a petite, round face and the largest, warmest brown eyes he's ever seen, flecks of the subtlest golds and reds hidden deep within their depths like sunken treasure. Her hair's choppy and short but still looks indescribably soft, even when mostly hidden by a ratty straw hat. Her red vest's simple and has seen better days, but the goddess could be wearing rags and nothing would dim her loveliness. Ample, luscious, honestly ENORMOUS breasts look a second from bursting forth from their humble constraints, and Sanji wants to be there to catch them, can practically feel them overflowing from his palms already. Her skin's golden from the sun, and her arms could probably rip a man in two, and Sanji wants to be that man. The mermaid's certainly no court lady, but it must be because no court could ever be worthy of her.

And her tail.

It's the most eye-catching part about her, shimmering like it's made of the most precious multi-faceted jewels, and everyone in the restaurant has turned to gape. It's thickest at her hips and ripples with strength in a way that reminds Sanji not of any fish, but of sea kings, fearsome and untouchable. It tapers smoothly to a tip with translucent flukes more beautiful than any stained glass, more like lustrous fairy wings made of crystal flower petals, which wave lazily in the air as she moves, proving that yes, the tail is very real, and she is indeed a mermaid.

Sanji often gushes about love for the maidens who visit the Baratie, but he doesn't know if he's ever truly felt it it beyond the surface of his skin. If anyone had asked him if he believed in true love, he would have laughed off the question, but now, he can't.

Because this must be it, this must be "Love at First Sight," because how else can he possibly explain this impossible urge to grasp the mermaiden's hand and present her with his heart and everything he is, to pledge to follow her to the death and beyond, to--

"'Scuse us," a voice says from WAY TOO CLOSE. "Are there any open seats?"

Sanji blinks, and realizes that there's a wall in front of him.

A wall of muscle to be exact, that turns out to be a man, a man who's taller than Sanji, shirtless, and very, Very fit...and Sanji and said man are standing so close that the tips of their noses are brushing and Sanji can count the man's freckles. Sanji's gaze flicks up, and the man's eyes are right there, staring lazily down at him from point blank range.

...Well this is awkward.

Sanji's mermaid is casually wrapped around the man's shoulders, swishing her bejeweled tail and blinking at Sanji curiously. Her breasts are mashed into the back of the man's head, and the man doesn't seem to notice or care as he waits patiently for Sanji's answer.

As the fog of love clears from his head, Sanji mumbles an apology and takes a big step back to a more socially appropriate distance, and tears his eyes away from the mermaid to assesses the whole group. And although love is so powerful it can override intellect, Sanji's not stupid.

By the look of it, they're pirates. There's a lovely lady in the back along with a weaker looking kid, but everyone else looks strong and experienced. And as enamored as he is by the concept of mermaids, Sanji can also very easily imagine the limited scenarios in which one might find a mermaid above deck, far away from Fishman island, and in the hands of pirates.

He might not see shackles on her, but physical bindings aren't always necessary for someone to be caged.

And if this was an ordinary day, and these were ordinary pirates here to make trouble, Sanji wouldn't hesitate to rescue the love of his life from these scum and move right along to celebrating their engagement.

But again, he's not stupid. And these are no East Blue pirates, because there's no way pirates of this caliber have been in the weakest sea for long. No, these are Grand Line pirates. And Sanji can tell that despite his relaxed, non-threatening demeanor, the man carrying the mermaid is dangerous. Sanji's gut screams warning that this man could destroy the Baratie and murder everyone in it without breaking a sweat, and Sanji would be helpless to stop him.

And it's not just him. There are others who are dangerous too, but Sanji's attention is drawn to the tall man who brings up the rear. Perhaps it's the pompadour, but it's most likely the chef outfit. He looks friendly enough, and isn't exuding power like the captain is, but there's definitely more than meets the eye, and Sanji has the weird feeling that he's seen the man before. Sanji doesn't actively keep track of pirates around the world, but the fact that even Sanji may have seen his bounty poster doesn't bode well.

Sanji knows he can't take them on in a direct confrontation. But he's also not going to let them leave without doing anything, if the mermaid's in the situation he thinks she's in.

So for now, he puts on his best customer service voice, smiles, and says, "Come right this way, we've got a VIP section."

Thanks so much for reading! I know this doesn’t answer every part of the ask, but I hope it’s still a fun read! If anyone’s interested, I can certainly write more on Thatch and Sanji in a separate post, I’m definitely becoming more and more invested in their complicated rivalry-friendship-mentorship relationship ^ ^

As always, thoughts/comments/reblogs are always super appreciated, and are what fuel me in creating more for this AU!

❀ ❀ Send YukiPri an Ask! ❀ ❀

Read the next part: On the Baratie, Part 2

~This ask has been added to the Mermaid AU Text Headcanons Compilation post~

#YukiPri replies #OnePieceMermaidAU #One Piece Mermaid AU #One Piece #SanLu #Vinsmoke Sanji #Monkey D. Luffy #genderbend #longpost #long post #text headcanons #Anonymous

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laurelismyblackcanary · 4 years ago

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Doctor Who Davies Era Rankings

The ranking of the seasons is: 1) Season One; 2) Season four 3) Season three 4) Season two. Now I’ll write a different post for the ranking of the episodes for each season.

4) Season Two: Little heads up. I think that all the episodes after the first four position are terrible and I don't really liked any of it. Regardless I'm ranking them form the one I disliked the less to the one that I downright hated.

The Girl in the Fireplace Just like in season one with BoomTown there probably are other episodes more deserving of this place, both for storyline and emotional impact. But I love this one. I love the strength of Madame de Pompadour (and I love Sophia Myles). I love the bittersweet tone of it all. When the Doctor came back for her only to find out she was already dead my heart broke both for him and for her. And I like that they never knew why the robots picked Reinette and followed her through her life, but we get to know it.

Rise of the Cyberman / Age of Steel I am a huge fan of Mickey Smith and I love his character arch. So I love both of these episodes where he gets to really grow and shine. Besides the storyline with Rose's father and Jakie being turned into a Cyberman was really good. And for a while there I was scared that maybe they wouldn't be able to save the day.

School Reunion Anthony Stewart Head was in it and it's already a huge plus. Then there were Sara Jane and K-9. Now I've never watched the Classic Who, but Sara Jane is great and she gives Rose a glimpse of what usually happens with the Doctor's companions. Which we already saw with Jack left behind on a desert space station. Also there's Mickey. And a school got destroyed.

Army of Ghosts / Doomsday I think that these episodes (together with Rise of the Cyberman and Age of Steel) probably have the best storylines. When we learnt that both Cyberman and Daleks were invading Earth... well I'll admit I was a bit scared. Plus I liked Rose's ending ( and I thought it should have stayed this way). It was heartbreaking that she was stuck in a parallel universe away from the Doctor and with no way to come back. But she had her mother, she had Mickey, and a version of her father.

New Earth Cassandra was there. It's pretty much the only think I remember about the episode. And the way she died was sad.

The Impossible Planet / Satan Pit I liked most of the supporting characters and I'm glad someone managed to survive. It's the first time we see the Ood and I think they're fascinating.

The Idiot's Lantern Only nice thing about this episode is the way Rose treated the Father whose name I don't remember. Everything else? Nope. " I am hungry!!!" Come on!

Fear Her I never remember that this episode even exists. That's how forgettable it is.

Tooth and Claw I remember this episode and I wish I don't. Queen Victoria being a werewolf? Founding Torchwood to keep the Doctor away ( still not sure why the Doctor is a threat.) I mean werewolf. I hate werewolves.

Love and Monsters I think most (if not all) Whovians wants to forget this episode even exists. We don't talk about this episode.

#doctor who #tenth doctor #rose tyler #mickey smith #sarah jane smith #jackie tyler #pete tyler #cyberman #daleks #ood

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cullxtheherd · 4 years ago

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Send in ♔ for my muse’s reaction to yours pushing mine up against the wall / from piper to nate.

HII SORRY that this has taken ages for me to respond to alSO WOW HAUJRFBFDEGKJ it got long but tbh i haven’t been able to sit and write in what feels like forever so oh my gosh here it is lmaosdjkbhgj anYWAYS i hope that this is okay despite being super long. i actually went in to edit this like: okay cut the content and then added like 5 more paragraphs i am so sorry sjkhbnfjdgnfg have 2 song ?? as compensation [x] [x]

Ducking into the alcove of Fens Way Station Nate runs a hand through his overgrown pompadour, dispelling large rivulets of rain water. “You ready?” Keeping his firearm dry had been a challenge but he checks over the forestock and firing mechanism on his rifle anyways - it never paid to be lax around here, that was certain.

When Piper gives him the all ready he enters first, cautiously down the ramp and towards the doors. “Chained on the other side,” Lifting his ＰｉｐＢｏｙ he scrolls through his short inventory and decides to exchange the long range gun for something a little more practical. His attention lifts from the recently upgraded laser pistol to his companion. “Good eye,” He admits, “Not sure how I missed that.”

He is sure, though. Nathan knows he has been more than distracted lately. The unending quest to find his son- the ongoing grievance of his wife; the overwhelming presence of the Institute suddenly everywhere...

“Glad I’ve got you by my side,” Relying on his old-world sense of chivalry and his incessant need to appear gallant mid-apocalypse he moves in, closer to the gaping hole in the wall. He puts himself first, peering around the corner before stepping into the tunnel.

“Do you hear that?” He isn’t sure if it’s the hum of old, sparking electricity or something else entirely but he pushes forward, gun at the ready. It is remarkably well lit in here and he peers around, suspicious of every noise.

Coming to the end of the service tunnel the hum is more of a buzz and he spots a bloatfly hovering over it’s latest victim. Immediately on autopilot he signals with his left hand and moves in silently. He doesn’t bother to check with her, knows by now that he can trust Piper to hold her own and then some.

The shootout is brief - for once - and before he can wipe the green, irradiated blood from the tip of his nose he can hear her checking for valuable loot in nearby containers. Nate can’t hide the large, lopsided smirk it causes and in an attempt at hiding his reaction he harvests the usable bits from the secondary bloatfly she'd taken down. He is glad to be traveling with someone who can match his level of ‘don’t give a fuck’ brand of brazenness.

For a time they are both quiet, scrounging through opposite ends of the small, mostly caved in station and he is grateful for it. More than happy to let the adrenaline rush die out for now- not that looting dead, half-bloated bodies wasn’t thrilling.

Moving further into the accessible subway car he comes across a Vault-Tec lunch box and when it pops open it’s miniature, crackling speaker blares out it’s congratulations with holographic confetti to boot. He can not help but laugh when a full, ice cold 𝓝𝓾𝓴𝓪𝓒𝓸𝓵𝓪 𝓒𝓱𝓮𝓻𝓻𝔂 pops out, clanking onto the metal seat. With a wide grin he exits the car, palming his prize.

“Thirsty?” He asks moving through the decrepit turnstiles and towards the now open office door. When she turns away from the office there is barely time to notice the oncoming threat; the danger he has inadvertently placed her in. “Piper,” He exclaims.

By the grace of whatever forsaken deity that haunts these lands he manages to corral her behind him and in one, large, lunging step he winds up. With the frosted, condensating glass gripped tightly between his meaty fingers he lands a critical hit on the radroach as it lunges, wings spread and screeching. The ＰｉｐＢｏｙ tick-tocks, alerting him to the radiation leeching off of the twitching carapace.

Turning he says the first thing on his mind, “Are you okay?” And taking a step out of the office doorway to fully face her he feels a long, painful stab of guilt, “I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking.”

A shock of pain ignites, delayed and he winces, “I shouldn’t have distracted you, I just-” Finally taking a look at his shattered prize he lets out a semi-shocked, “Oh.”

His lips twist into a half frown, one edge lifting up and the other sinking, “I was going to offer you this but, uh?” Letting the broken bottle neck go finally, he flexes his fingers, happy not to see any violent or excessive spurts of blood. “Seems it has now seen much better days,” Nate tries to laugh but the superficial cuts on his palm do sting and he ends up wincing halfway through. Crestfallen he lets out another low, “Sorry.”

Surely many months ago when she had first agreed to follow him into the wastes there had been some kind of silent agreement between the two of them about the perils they would face, but? His heart races as the scene replays nearly ad nauseum. Nate isn’t so sure he wants to put her in harm's way like this again.

Ultimately he does know that it is her decision to make, but he feels? Guilty. Ashamed. Protective. Worried...

Unhooking the pack from his shoulder he is quick about getting a 𝕄𝕖𝕕𝕂𝕚𝕥 out, trying to avoid comfort in over thinking. Affixing the straps to the top of his military green duffle he takes pause, kit in one hand and shoulder strap from his pack in the other. Half-hunched and suddenly uneasy the duffle hits the ground with a soft thud and ca-chink of carabiners and clips and slowly he regards her, posture straightening.

Feeling like a specimen on a petri dish he tries, “Everything okay?” It’s scarcely a secret between them or anyone else within ten feet the side glances and long-looks they’ve shared over the past weeks, but? This is different. This is the first time he’s felt pinned by the fervency in her gaze and he opens his mouth to prompt her, “Pip-”

𝕄𝕖𝕕𝕂𝕚𝕥 forgotten it joins his pack in the settling dust. Hands move, one crinkling into nearly jet-black, gentle waves and the other smearing against her cheek. Lips move and he exhibits full-bodied reciprocation, matching her.

Back hitting the wall he groans lowly, caught off guard by her. He should have known she would be the one to make the first move - as bold and brave as he knows her to be he ought’ve set his sense of being an old-world ‘gentleman’ on the back burner long ago. Perhaps that was the one thing holding them up all this time?

Logically he knows it isn’t. There’s a laundry list of glaring reasons why he hadn’t tried to cross unspoken boundaries, but he had certainly thought about it. And at length, too. Even consulted Preston - of all people - about it. The Minuteman had gone silent for a time when he’d asked and for the first time in a long time Nathan had seen fit to listen; really listen to him.

Their talk had helped him clear his mind of some of the dead wife, lost son guilt he’d been carrying, but? It was impossible to offload it all. Mostly he’d set everything on the backburner hoping that they’d ‘cross that bridge when they’d come to it’.

This - Fens Way Station - was it; their proverbial bridge, it would seem and? Nate is leaping across it.

Whatever doubts he had built up are gone- what had he been so scared of, anyways? Piper was and always had been one of his most understanding companions; they’d talked at length about Nora and Shaun many times. She would understand him.

To him, in this world- a little understanding means everything.

Nathan sighs into the kiss, rigid body softening and molding. Shock subsiding he latently realizes their situation: he is a good length taller than her. Instead of keeping her on her toes he hunches, meeting her in the middle. His hands move to the small of her back, bringing her in as close as he can.

Certainly this is not how he’d pictured any of this happening, but? With the fire burning in the rusted out, slapped-together cooking station and her pressed so tightly against him, the rest of their destroyed surroundings fizzle out; unremarkable.

It’s been nearly two hundred and twelve years since he has been this close to another human being and all he can hear is his heart beating in his ears. He has no idea what constitutes 'proper' or 'one foot in front of the other' in the league of physicality these days. Was this too much all at once?

Is it too little?

Coming up for air he manages a look, double checking and voice crackling, “Piper?” He has more to say, but he can’t get his thoughts together - he is abuzz. “Should we…” Nate means to tack on ‘go home’ but he fizzles out, gaze falling to her kiss-bitten lips.

#whoops i word vomited #a curse on your dashes

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kairos-polaris · 4 years ago

Text

It's a rich man's world

Rose and Doctor dance with ABBA on the background. Rose thinks how relatable Money, Money, Money is. She is still getting used to the new, new Doctor

****

The new, new Doctor was... different. He appeared and acted younger. He was... lighter somehow. This Doctor joked and laughed. He couldn't stay in one place for longer than one minute. But no matter how much he had changed on the outside everything in him still screamed "Doctor. That's Doctor" and Rose loved it.

They were sitting in the console room and Rose knew that their last adventure affected the Doctor more than he admitted. What did the thing in the Pit tell him? Rose just shook her head and stood up.

"Can you please turn on the music?" Rose asked softly. Doctor didn't even have time to answer her as ABBA's Dancing Queen started playing.

Rose loved this song. Her mom used to spend a lot of time listening to recordings of Pete's favourite songs. But unlike Rose, Jackie didn't like Money, Money, Money. "It's too relatable," she used to say.

Rose shakes her head, trying to stop thinking about her mother and their small flat on the Estates. Instead she smiles softly and wiggles her fingers. Doctor just sighs but doesn't move.

Her Doctor with big ears and leather jacket would refuse to dance with her. He would grumble about apes and their primitive traditions. It would take her several minutes of staring and biting her lip to make him agree to dance with her

This Doctor is much more...active. He is the one to lead her in a dance and that's why his reaction doesn't make any sense. She quirks her eyebrow, silently asking "What's wrong?'

"I'm still a little bit shaken after jumping into the Pit." he suddenly looks so vulnerable that Rose feels her heart break for him. "Maybe, you can dance alone? Did you know that physical exercises release endorphins, the hormones of happiness, Rose Tyler?" Rose doesn't have time to react as the Doctor is rambling about different hormones and how they affect humans.

"Doctor," she touches his arm gently, making him look at her. "It's okay if you don't want to dance with me. I don't want you to do something you are uncomfortable with. I can dance by myself."

Doctor stays silent for the next several minutes. Rose turns around, ready to leave, when the Doctor crushes her in a hug. Rose lets out a content sigh because hugging the Doctor always feels good. He smells like Time and Space and motor oil and dust.

They are standing like that until the song changes and Money, Money, Money starts playing. The Doctor grins at her and leads to an open space.

"You wanted to dance, Rose Tyler! How can I deny you something so simple?" Doctor is all grins again. He's jumping like a three years old in a sugar rush. He's the one wiggling his fingers now and Rose just takes his hand with a small smile. She did want to dance with him, after all.

I work all night, I work all day, to pay the bills I have to pay

Ain't it sad

And still there never seems to be a single penny left for me

Shopgirls don't have a big salary and Rose knew it firsthand. She worked hard, and her mother worked hard. But there still was a crippling fear of losing her job and their flat. She loved it no matter how crappy it was.

Unfortunately, it was almost impossible to get a high paying job without a formal education. And Rose had to pay a debt before thinking about her education.

"That's what you get for dropping out of school, girl." And Rose is tired of repeating that yes, she knows that now. She knows that she was young and irresponsible. She knows that dropping out was one of her biggest mistakes. But Rose also knew that it didn't make her less important or worthy of good things (right?).

In my dreams I have a plan

If I got me a wealthy man

I wouldn't have to work at all, I'd fool around and have a ball

The thing is that almost every girl wants to marry a rich man. And Rose wanted it, too. She dreamed about meeting a young and handsome man with a thick wallet. But did she want a rich man or that particular type of security only money can offer? Did she want to buy expensive clothes and accessories or did she want to not worry about bills and whether or not her paycheck would be enough? Did she need a big villa or just a place she could call her own?

Money, money, money

Must be funny

In the rich man's world

TARDIS had a lot of expensive things. Things that could make her feel rich and powerful. And the Doctor had a psychic paper that let them be whoever they wanted or needed to.

The Doctor shows her different planets that have their own holidays and festivals. They go to balls and high-end events.

But she felt like an imposter. She wasn't educated or sophisticated. "Unlike Madame de Pompadour," Rose thought bitterly and immediately felt ashamed. It wasn't the woman's fault the Doctor had liked her. Hating a girl because of jealousy isn't cool.

A man like that is hard to find but I can't get him off my mind

The Doctor wasn't a rich man in the usual understanding of wealth. He didn't own a successful company, wasn't a politician. He had no stable job ("I actually do, Rose Tyler!" he told her once. "I've been working with UNIT since my third body. They even pay me money!" Rose just smiled innocently and then asked why he hadn't paid for his chips.)

So I must leave, I'll have to go

To Las Vegas or Monaco

And win a fortune in a game, my life will never be the same

Jackie Tyler would call the Doctor poor but for Rose he was the richest man in the entire Universe. He gave her stars and planets. He showed her the most breathtaking landscapes. He took her hand and turned her world around. Rose Tyler knew she would never be as exited as she was every time TARDIS landed. And in the end, his companionship was the most expensive and important thing she's ever been offered.

How can anything live up to Time And Relative Dimensions In Space? How can she find anything better than standing on an alien soil for the first time? How can she find anything better than Doctor's stories about everything in the Universe?

Rose knows that there's a possibility that she will find something better one day. One day the Doctor will leave her on Earth and won't look back. It won't be his first time doing so, after all. Because that man, time lord, believes he knows what best for everyone. He runs and runs, leaving everyone dear behind. On most days Rose tends to ignore it but at night, when she can't sleep, Rose is scared. She doesn't want to be left behind, she doesn't want to have a "normal" life and beans on toast.

"You should go to sleep, Rose. I know you are tired," Doctor says softly after she stifles another yawn. They untangle and Rose offers him a small smile.

"Goodnight, Doctor." Rose doesn't go to her room immediately, lingers in the console room. She waits for him to say "there are nights or days on TARDIS, Rose Tyler" but he stays silent. Rose sighs softly and goes to her room. She was actually tired. She can deal with the aftermath of today's adventure tomorrow

#doctor who #doctor and rose #they dance #like dancefloor dancing #tenth doctor #rose tyler #rose relates to money money money by abba #one shot

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imjustheretoseetheprivateblogs · 5 years ago

Text

The Lost World Rewrite

So, I recently watched the Lost World: Jurassic Park for the first time and all I gotta say is...

Yeah. So, in spite of the fact I feel that it would be Superfluous and self-aggrandizing, and a maturely written well thought out review would be a better use of my time, I decided to do a rewrite of the Lost World to make it a half-decent movie. I apologize to any fans of the film in advance. This is a rough Idea based on what could be done without completely throwing out the script. Here we go...

The film starts the same; little girl gets mauled by Compies on Isla Sorna

Cut to not Ian Malcolm; there is no Ian Malcolm in this film. There will never be Ian Malcolm in this film. Instead, we cut to Dr. Sarah Harding (played by Julianne Moore) who’s photographing a crocodile nesting. We learn a little bit about her from her assistant, Nick Van Owen (played by Vince Vaughn), namely that while her theories on Dinosaur young rearing are as on point as Alan Grant’s raptor research, she’s not so hot at rearing young herself. Case in point, she’s late for her daughter’s gymnastics performance.

Her daughter is of course Kelly Curtis played by Vanessa Lee Chester, who in this version will have a larger role and more developed personality. Kelly is Sarah’s adopted daughter and the two have been at a loss at what to do with one another since meeting. Kelly is the daughter of one of Sarah’s oldest friends who died while traveling and Sarah took her in. While their relationship isn’t horrible, it’s definitely awkward. Like when Sarah bursts through the gymnasium doors to see Kelly has completely finished her routine and the seat reserved for her has been given to someone else (maybe Michael Crichton or Steven Spielberg in a cameo?)

Later that night, Sarah is called by a mysterious voice on the phone, telling her to pack a suitcase and go outside. She does so and a black SUV pulls up. “Get in.” a man’s voice tells her.

“OK,” Sarah says, annoyed, “who are you people and what’s with the G-man routine?”

“I wouldn’t exactly call it a G-man routine.” says a familiar voice.

We pan over to reveal John Hammond (Richard Attenborough) sitting across from Sarah.

“Can I offer you a drink?” he asks.

The conversation is much the same as the movie with Ian Malcolm (Hammond explains Site B, tells Sarah about the JP incident, etc.). Only this time, there’s a big difference: InGen wants to cut ties with the Jurassic Park debacle and intends to let the Costa Rican Government fire bomb it. Hammond wants to get people onto the island and document the animals to drum up environmentalist support for turning it into a preserve and at least stave off the destruction until a humane solution can be found.

“How can I say no!?” Sarah says. A chance to photograph real Dinosaurs. Never in 65 million years did she think she’d get this chance.

The team she’ll be going to the island with includes herself, Hammond, Van Owen (“Nick’s the best person for the job” Sarah insists), equipment manager Eddie Carr (Richard Schiff), Dr. Robert Burke (Thomas F. Duffy) (“are we sure he’s not a country singer?” Sarah asked, eyeing the supposed paleontologist’s ten gallon hat and beard), celebrity big game hunter Roland Tembo (Pete Postlethwaite), and InGen executive Peter Ludlow, Hammond’s own nephew (“I made the mistake of trusting too many people last time,” Hammond said, “this time, I’m playing it close to the vest.”)

The team arrives on the Island, where Peter suggests setting up camp in a low clearing, much to Tembo’s chagrin (“that,” Tembo said, rolling his eyes, “is a game trail, Mr. Ludlow. Carnivores hunt on game trails. do you want to find dinosaurs or serve them lunch?”)

The group wanders through deep Jungle, Hammond and Ludlow being the slowest, one due to their age the other due to being a little on the wimpy side. As the journey goes on, it becomes apparent that there’s some friction between Peter and John, with Peter second guessing John every chance he gets and trying to act like the leader of the group.

They finally come across a family of stegosaur and we get that adorable pet the baby scene from the movie. Eddie is flabbergasted, Nick is taking pictures like crazy, Burke’s having a conniption, Hammond swells with pride, and we don’t really know what’s going through Peter and Tembo’s heads.

Something startles the Stegs (Tembo reached for his gun. “No!” Nick grabbed the barrel of Tembo’s gun.)

Nick fumed “An animal that hasn’t been seen in over a million years turns up and the only way you can express yourself is to kill it?” Tembo smiled. “Remember that chap about twenty years ago? I forget his name. Climbed Everest without any oxygen, came down nearly dead. When they asked him, they said why did you go up there to die? He said I didn't, I went up there to live.” (cryptic, no?)

“What could have set them off like that?” Wondered Burke. Roland, however, scented the air. “Smoke,” he said simply, pointing “coming from that way. They must have thought it was from a forest fire.”

The group rushes back to their camp, discovering the campfire burning. Eddie and Burke make to smother it. However, the camper door opens to reveal—

“I was gonna have dinner ready when you got back.” Kelly said.

Sarah and Kelly have an argument inside the camper, about how Sarah’s never there for her and how she just washed out of her gymnastics team (“I got bronze,” she said, “not that you’d know. You didn’t even stick around long enough for that part.”)

Kelly convinces Sarah she can stay. We cut to a scene of the group in jeeps, riding through grasslands in a heard of various Dinosaurs. Nick’s in the jeep with Tembo, Peter, and Hammond, while Sarah is with Kelly, Eddie, and Burke. (Tembo turned to Nick. “get in the outrigger. You're closing in on a parasaur.” “Parasaurolophus,” Nick corrected smugly.” “Whatever,” said Tembo, “The one with the big red horn! The pompadour! *Elvis!*”)

Nick climbs into the outrigger and begins to film the dinosaurs. In the other jeep, the group is trying to coax Eddie into their own outrigger.

“No way I’m getting into that thing,” Eddie said “not surrounded by dinosaurs.” “We’re gonna need better shots if we want to save these dinosaurs,” Sarah said, “and you’re the only one who knows how to work the equipment.” “So do you,” Eddie said, “Why not pull over and let me drive? I used to drive cabs for a living.” “I know how the use the camera.” Kelly said. Sarah stared at her. “You do?” “I was in AV club before gymnastics.”

The group snaps Kelly in and they begin their own filming process. For the first time in a long time, Kelly and Sarah seem to be having fun together.

After that moment of chipperness, we cut back to camp. (Roland nodded to Nick. “Tree hugger got a great shot of a Pachy... a pachy... oh, hell. One of those fatheads with the bald spot, Friar Tuck!”) Peter and Hammond are looking over a map. Peter insists that they should go to the abandoned worker village on the other side of the island, where they can find easy shelter and supplies (“IT runs on geothermal power, so it’ll still have power”). Hammond disagrees. (“Absolutely not,” Hammond said, “that part of the island has been overrun by Velociraptors.” Peter frowned “What’s that, veloc-o-?” “Velociraptor,” Burke said, “Carnivore, pack hunter. About two meters tall, long snout, binocular vision, strong, dextrous forearms, and killing claws on both feet.” “That doesn’t sound promising.” said Peter. “You should read Alan Grant’s latest paper on them,” said Burke, “It’s like he met one in real life!”)

Meanwhile, Roland Tembo is now kneeling, looking at a track.

“Come take a look at this.” he says. Everyone gathers around. “do you know what this is?” he asks. Sarah’s eyes grew wide. “We have to leave.” she said. “Why?” asked Kelly. “That’s a T-Rex track!” Burke said. “A T-Rex!” Eddie looked as if he was about to break for the beach and try to swim home. “That’s impossible!” said Hammond “the satellite photos showed that the Rex territory is nowhere near here.”

The group decides to risk staying in the area. Later that night, Kelly hears a noise. Curious, she goes outside to investigate. In the moonlight, she sees a team of unknown men in night vision goggles capturing the dinosaurs that they had been filming earlier that day. As the drive off, Kelly grabs onto the back of one of the trailers to follow them.

We cut back to Sarah’s tent. She’s asleep, not having been roused by her daughter’s departure. But she is roused by what sounds like deep breathing outside. She surreptitiously looks around and sees a massive snout sticking into her tent. It’s the Tyrannosaur!

Just then, Peter Ludlow comes out of his tent with a roll of toilet paper, but upon seeing the dinosaur lets out a scream that wakes the whole camp. The rex turns and bellows at him, trashing their camp all the while in a show of dominance. Soon, the whole group is running through the forest. Hammond is almost eaten by the thing if not for Tembo’s intervention.

Soon, however, the groups are separated from one another. Hammond slips down a river bank into a ravine, Peter just up and vanishes, and Sarah, Van Owen, Tembo, Burk, and Eddie run behind a waterfall with the rex in pursuit. The dinosaur, unable to follow, gives one last roar of anger and leaves. Out of all the people, however, Tembo looks the least scared. He looks…thrilled, actually.

Meanwhile, we cut away to Hammond. He rises (roughly) shaking away the delirium. He looks around, wondering where his party got off to. The T-Rex’s roar is heard in the distance. Better find the others, he thinks. He begins to follow the river; if the group has any sense, they’ll make a new camp on the water. But then he hears a noise and looks down. It’s a Compy.

We get a very similar scene to Dieter Stark’s (Peter Stormare’s) death in the movie (which was based off of John Hammond’s in the first book) with one or two caveats. First, we don’t cut away in the middle. We maintain the scene and the suspense as long as possible (with Compys popping out of the woodwork the more Hammond tries to get away from them). The second…

There was a sound of rifle fire. The Compys scattered and Hammond felt himself pulled up from the shallow water, finally able to breathe. “Tembo,” he coughed.

“If you have any more suicidal ideas,” said Tembo, “keep em to yourself.”

Cut back to Sarah’s group as Hammond and Tembo rejoin them.

“Has anyone seen Kelly?” Sarah asked, worried.

“I think I saw her run in the same direction as Ludlow,” said Tembo.

“Hopefully, they’ll be safe once they leave the Rex’s territory.” said Burke.

“Don’t bet on it,” said Sarah, “Tyrannosaurs have the second largest proportional olfactory cavity of any creature in the fossil record.” “What’s the first?” asked Eddie. “Turkey vulture,” said Burke, as casually as someone would talk about the weather.

“Any idea where we are?” asked Eddie, desperately trying the change the subject. “Somewhere west of the worker village, I think,” said Nick, examining a map of the island (one of the few they managed to salvage from the camp) “It’d be an easy hike there.” “Maybe that’s where Kelly and Peter are,” said Sarah, turning to Hammond. “Yes, but if they did go there, they’re in grave danger.” said Hammond. “Velociraptors,” said Burke, trying to be helpful.

“Danger or not, we need a radio,” said Tembo, “that buck tore the hell out of our camp and I don’t think we can contact the mainland with smoke signals.” “How do you know the T-Rex was male?” asked Sarah.

Before Tembo can answer, a different roar is heard. A helicopter passed overhead.

“I thought you said we had a few weeks before they started razing the island?” Sarah said. “We do,” Hammond replied, “I don’t know what that helicopter’s doing her.” “It was headed towards the worker village,” said Tembo, “so, if we want to see what’s what, I think that’s where we’re headed.”

Cut to a scene of the group walking through the forest at night. Finally, they reach a vantage point overlooking the worker village…and it’s anything but abandoned.

More than three dozen people, some of them armed, are walking over the compound. Chain link fence ran the perimeter of the camp, newer than the rest of the camp. Tents, vehicles, mobile generators, the works.

Dozens of dinosaurs sit in cages, all bearing the same logo

“It says InGen on the side of that truck!” Eddie said. Everyone turned to look at Hammond. “I had no idea about this,” said Hammond, “why would I ask anyone to come here?” “I think I know who we should ask,” said Nick, pointing down at the camp.

It’s Peter, down in the camp, talking with the armed guards.

“What’s he doing down there?” asked Sarah. “I think,” Hammond said, sadness in his voice, “I’ve made the same mistake twice.” “Anybody seen Tembo?” asked Eddie.

Indeed, Tembo has disappeared.

Cut to Kelly, hiding in one of the trailers. She’d managed to evade her captors, but for how long she can continue to do so is up to debate. Stealthily, she creeps out of the trailer and around the camp over to one of the cages. She undoes the latch. She moves on to the next cage. Rinse and repeat.

Cut to inside one of the tents, Peter and several other people, all InGen personnel, stand around a card table where plans labeled ‘Jurassic Park San Diego’ are lain out.

“San Diego?” One man (a high ranking InGen worker) asked. “it’s already famous for its animal attractions,” said Peter, gesturing to plans on the table, “San Diego zoo... Sea World... The San Diego Chargers.”

“I don’t think John Hammond would have approved of having these animals on the mainland.” An InGen executive said.

Peter frowned. “Well, Hammond’s not in charge anymore. I am.” He turned to another man, this one a hunter by the look of him. “How’s the hunting going?”

“We’ve got plenty of plant eaters,” the hunter said, “some eggs. no raptors though. And our man hasn’t brought in the T-Rex like he said he would.”

Peter rolled his eyes. “What makes you think people want to see a bunch of veggiesaurs and eggs! They’re gonna want a T-Rex!”

“We’re trying, sir!” the hunter says, “but we haven’t seen any raptors since we got here!”

Suddenly, a worker bursts into the tent “The baby’s gone!” he said.

Almost as suddenly, a Triceratops bursts into the tent, smashing into the table and scattering the group. The camp is in chaos! Dinosaurs are running amuck. Vehicles overturned, people tossed into the air. But this is the chance Hammond’s group has been waiting for. They make their way down to the village in the bedlam, and make it into the main building of the worker’s village. Eddie manages to contact the mainland, and things are looking up. But then, we hear an ungodly moan from behind a nearby door. Slowly, Burke heads towards the door, picking up a nearby screwdriver to use as a weapon. He jerks the door open to reveal…

“Kelly!” Sarah cried. Kelly sat inside a broom closet, in her arms a baby T-Rex.

“They just left him tied to a stick out there,” said Kelly, “and I think his leg is broken.”

Despite the limited materials, the group sets to work splinting the baby’s leg. It’s pretty much the same as in the movie. Until the sound of a rifle cocking is heard behind them.

“I’ll be taking that rex now, Dr. Harding,” Roland Tembo said. Tembo has been on Ludlow’s payroll since the beginning. He was never here to protect the group. He’s here to hunt the T-Rex. He was the one who staked the baby out, to attract it’s parents.

Outside, the cacophony has died down. The Dinosaurs have mainly been recaptured. Hammond’s group has been brought before Ludlow, who looks at them condescendingly. “You really thought you were still CEO when you got here, Uncle John? I bought you out the day you asked for my help. We’ll still use the footage you took for our attractions, don’t worry.” “So, you’re going to reopen Jurassic Park then, is that it? Despite my warnings?” “No, not reopen. We’re moving these animals to the mainland so we don’t have to fly out here every time there’s a problem. You put us six million dollars in debt every day since you started making dinosaurs. It’s time to see good on that investment you promised. And the board agrees with me.”

InGen Exec: it’s nothing personal John. Why have a dinosaur and not use it?

“These are animals,” Sarah said, “they deserve respect”

“They’ll have the best of care.”

“And what if they break out! What then?”

Cut to part of Hammond’s team (Hammond, Sarah, and Kelly) being shoved into a trailer with the door locked behind them. Sarah tries to force the door open, to no avail. Kelly runs around, trying to open the windows. Hammond just sits down, despondent at the betrayal of his own family.

Sarah (trying to yank the door open): come on! You stupid…

A familiar roar is heard. A car flips past the window.

“What is it?” Hammond asked, “What’s going on?”

Sarah: I think things just got complicated.

The buck T-Rex from earlier has tracked the them to the Worker village and crashes through the fence. Suddenly, another roar is heard from the other side of the camp. It’s the female Rex, and she’s even more pissed than the male.

“There’s two of them!?” Sarah asked, incredulous. “We spared no expense,” Hammond said.

The rexes wreck the trailer the rest of Hammond’s team is in. Nick, Eddie, and Burke make a break for it. The female Rex sees them and gives chase. She and her mate bare down on them and soon capture Eddie, each taking one end in their jaws and pulling him apart for a snack.

Afterward we get a faceoff between Roland Tembo and the male rex (one that would have been really cool in the movie but we didn’t get it).

Tembo wastes two shot gun blasts on the rex. Out of ammo, he switches to tranquilizers, which finally manage to bring the beast down. The other rex is soon felled after. Subdued in special harnasses, the rexes are air lifted by helicopters to a boat waiting of the coast of Isla Sorna. All in all, the bad guys’ mission is a success. Well, Tembo wouldn’t say so. If you’d told him a year ago he’d get to hunt not one but two T-Rexes he would have kissed whoever told him that square on the mouth. But in the end, it had been so stupidly simple to catch them he just feels crapped on. Didn’t even get a trophy.

“You know, I remember the people who've helped me, Roland. There's a job for you at the park in San Diego if you want it.” Roland turns him down.

Cut to a group of hunters patrolling the tall grass outside the worker village. Suddenly, one of them is pulled under. A hunter a few feet away looks in his direction. “Manolo?” he asks. Another nearby hunter is pulled out of view. The hunters are starting to get scared. “Look alive, people.” one of them says. We hear a familiar coughing sound.

A velociraptor jumps out of the grass and mangles one of the hunters. Soon, pandemonium ensues. The crafty raptors had been evading the InGen hunters, watching them, waiting for the right moment. And with two dinosaur attacks in a row and both rexes out of the picture, now was the time to strike! (And there are no tails sticking up out of the grass cartoonishly! Raptors are supposed to be dangerous, not goofy).

Back at the camp, Roland runs towards the danger while Peter climbs aboard one of the waiting helicopters. “Get me out of here!” he cries.

The raptors swarm the camp. Roland manages to kill a few, but not before they massacre most of the InGen workers there. Tembo even has to watch Burke die in front of him. We get a scene where Hammond’s group escapes their trailer, Kelly defeats a velociraptor with gymnastics and the group plus Tembo manages to get onboard a helicopter.

The rest of the movie follows the actual TLW movie pretty closely with a few differences. Namely, there’s more than one dinosaur rampaging through San Diego, Tembo is helping the remaining team route the dinos back to the ship, we acknowledge the fact that the car they picked in the movie was due to reasons of masculinity, and Peter suffers a nervous breakdown when the dinosaurs break out of the ship’s hold and allows himself to be eaten by the baby rex out of guilt.

Roland fires a tranquilizer shot at the buck rex before it can clear the door. When that’s done, Sarah asks him what he’s going to hunt next.

“I believe I've spent enough time in the company of death.” he said.

We cut to Kelly and Sarah asleep on the couch while a TV plays news coverage of the boat being returned to Isla Sorna with a statement from John Hammond (once again CEO of InGen).

His speech is pretty much the same, ending with “as someone once told me, life finds a way.”

The final shot of the film is the rex family, the stegosaurs, all the dinosaurs back on Isla Sorna. Content as the Jurassic Park credits theme plays in the background.

So, what did you think? Like it, hate it? As always, I welcome feedback and comments!

#Jurassic Park #The Lost World #the lost world: jurassic park #Jurassic Park 2 #Jurassic Park II #Steven Spielberg #Rewrite #Re-Write #Dinosaurs #My Writing #Well Sort of #Fix It Fic #Sarah Harding #Roland Tembo #John Hammond #Kelly Curtis #Nick Van Owen

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shawnsassymendes · 6 years ago

Text

Best Friend’s Brother

a/n: sorry man i just love this trope also aaliyah and reader are in college in this thing but shawns the same age. so the difference between shawn and aaliyah would be like idk 2-3 years?

synopsis: your best friend bails on your movie night, so you end up going with her brother.

wc: 3.2k

{Masterlist in Bio}

____________________

You walked up to the front door of your best friend’s childhood home. It was winter break so everyone was back home, leaving a few students at the dorms of the University of Toronto. One of them being you.

Your best friend of almost 10 years now lived in the suburbs that neighboured Toronto. Only a half hour drive from the dorms. You drove up to Pickering every Wednesday and Saturday during break to have your bi weekly movie night with Aaliyah.

You never minded the drive, of course. She was your best friend and you couldn’t bear staying at your dorm with nothing to do all winter break long. You couldn’t really afford a trip back home right now.

“Liyah, I’m here!” You called out as you unlocked the door. You were given a spare key to the Mendes household as soon as you could drive.

“I’m in my room!” Aaliyah yelled out.

You walked up the stairs and entered Aaliyah’s room. She was slipping on a black silk top over her dark wash high waisted skinny jeans. “A bit much for movie night?” You remarked, plopping down on her bed.

“Movie night?” Aaliyah’s knitted brows slowly rose to her hairline. “Oh my god, movie night! I’m so sorry y/n, I thought it was Friday!”

You groaned and tipped your head back. “Liyah, what the hell? Please don’t tell me Jordan’s coming.”

Aaliyah’s face became riddled with guilt. “Jordan’s already outside.” She smiled sheepishly, pointing at her boyfriend’s car through the window.

“I fucking hate you. What the fuck am I gonna do with the tickets?” You pulled out the tickets from your purse and waved them in her face.

“You can go alone? You always said you wanted to try that?” Aaliyah said as he adjusted her bra to show more cleavage.

“Not today I don’t! I’m going with your mom, she’s much better company anyways.” You huffed, getting up to go find Karen.

“Mom’s not here. She’s out with friends.”

“Then who’s home?” You were hoping she would say Manny because movies with him were always entertaining. The answer you really didn’t want her to say was exactly what she did say.

“Just Shawn.” She shrugged before her eyes went wide and a grin spread over her face.

“Don’t even think about it. I’m not going. I’ll stay here until you come back and we can watch whatever’s on Netflix until sunrise. I’m not gonna go with him.” You crossed yours arms over your chest and sat on her desk chair.

“But you know you wanna.” Aaliyah smirked, pulling you up from the chair. “This crush has been going on for too long. Come on, if you go with him tonight I’ll take you to the fancy French place for dinner. You know the one, Aubergine du Pompadour.” She said the name of the restaurant with the worst French accent you could imagine, replacing every word with whatever sounded like it fit in.

“Auberge du Pommier.” You rolled your eyes, correcting her. “That place is hella expensive, Liyah. We can’t go. You know I can hardly afford gas.”

“Who said I’d let you pay?” She scoffed. “Shawnie boy gave me his card for Christmas. Told me to go crazy. Consider this part of your Christmas present.” Aaliyah grinned, wiggling her eyebrows at you.

You sighed and looked up at the ceiling. Were you really considering this? Yes, definitely. You’ve had a crush on Shawn since forever. He was always nice to you, helping you out whenever he could. But you were sure he just saw you as a little sister.

“Okay.” You whispered, head still tilted back.

“Oh my god, really?” Aaliyah squealed.

“Yeah, but only as friends. I’m not gonna try to do anything. We’re just friends. Just my best friend’s brother.” You confirmed, looking Aaliyah in the eye.

“My best friend’s brother, my best friend’s brother. BFB, BFB, my best friend’s brother is the one for me.” Aaliyah sang in a low voice, not wanting her brother to hear.

“Shut it!” You hissed, struggling not to smile.

“Liyah baby, you ready?” Jordan asked as he walked into the room. “Hey y/n!” He shot you a smile.

“Jordan, you are dead to me.” You replied, picking up a pillow from the bed and throwing it at him.

Jordan caught it with ease. “The fuck did I do?”

“Why are you taking her on a date today? It’s movie night!” You whined, incredibly close to jumping up and down like a toddler having a tantrum.

“Oh shit, sorry y/n. Thought it was Friday.” Jordan winced, placing the pillow back on the bed.

You rolled your eyes and shot him a glare. “What the fuck have you guys been smoking, it’s Wednesday.”

Jordan came up behind Aaliyah and pulled her to his chest, wrapping his arms around her torso. “I was telling her, she should go with Shawn.” Aaliyah told her boyfriend, looking up at him.

“Oh, that’s a good idea!” Jordan smiled, looking back at you. “Finally gonna make a move?”

“Not in a million years.”

“Still thinks he sees her as a little sister.” Aaliyah grumbled.

Jordan chuckled. “Mhm, sure. Let’s pretend you two didn’t make out at that-”

“It was one time!” You cut him off, eyes wide. “Besides, he was drunk. Doesn’t even remember it.”

Jordan raised his brows at you, as if to ask if you were serious. “He told you that?”

“Uh, no. He didn’t say anything after, just assumed he forgot.” Your voice trailed off.

“Pfft, alright whatever. We have a reservation we’re gonna be late for.” Aaliyah piped up, looking pointedly at Jordan.

“Yeah, we do. You want me to drop you off at your dorm or are you going to the movie?” Jordan asked, taking his keys out of his pocket.

“No, I’m gonna see if Shawn wants to go. If he doesn’t, I’ll just go home. Have fun you two. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” You smiled as you handed Aaliyah her coat.

“How about you stay over, eh? We can have a sleepover when we get back.” Aaliyah asked, putting her hands on your shoulders.

“Yeah, that’s a good idea.” She gave you a kiss on the cheek before she left the room, leaving you to your own devices.

You spread yourself out on the bed, listening to Aaliyah and Jordan drive off while you thought of what to do next.

You could always just throw the tickets away. Never ask Shawn and stay the night. Tell Aaliyah he said no and that you went alone. But she would definitely ask Shawn why he said no. And he would be as clueless as ever. She would get pissed that you lied. Ugh too much trouble.

You hopped off the bed and headed to Shawn’s room before you changed your mind. You knocked the door three times and stepped back.

“Coming!” Shawn’s voice could be heard through the door. He opened it and his eyes landed on you, causing a smile to spread across his face. “Hey, y/n. How are you?” He hoped his cheeks weren’t as red as they felt.

“I’m good. How about you? When did you come home?” Small talk wasn’t your favorite, but any words exchanged with Shawn were precious.

“Just a couple days ago. Staying here until Christmas, but then I’m going back to my place. You coming here for Christmas this year?” You were probably just high off of being around him, but it was almost like Shawn sounded hopeful.

“Uh, yeah I am.” You replied, looking down at the carpeted floors. You knew if you explained why, Shawn wouldn’t hesitate to offer you a ticket home and you were in no way going to accept that. So you changed the subject “Listen, I booked two tickets for a movie, but Liyah bailed on me. I was hop-thinking, maybe you would wanna... come with?”

“Of course! I mean uh, yeah sure. When does it start?” Shawn asked, retreating into his room to change out of his sweatpants you assumed.

“We’ve still got plenty of time. Starts in two hours. Liyah and I usually take the long way to listen to more songs. That’s why I’m here so early.” You explained, wiping your palms against your jean clad thighs.

“No worries.” Shawn smiled, looking you over. He perked up when he saw what you were wearing. “Nice hoodie.” He smirked.

You looked down and saw that you were wearing the Pine Ridge hoodie Shawn had given you ages ago. You hadn’t attended Pine Ridge, so Shawn knew it was his. “Don’t get cocky, now.” You rolled your eyes with a smile.

“Who said anything about cocky?”

“That look on your face says cocky. I’ll be waiting downstairs.”

Your conversation with Aaliyah and Jordan echoed in your mind as you walked down the stairs. It was like they knew something you didn’t. It was like they knew for certain that Shawn liked you back. But that was impossible. Maybe they were bluffing to get you to act on your feelings. But Jordan... how did Jordan know about the kiss?

Shawn kissed you at his birthday party during the summer. It was so abrupt and sudden and he was pulled away immediately afterwards, leaving you all alone. After Shawn made no attempt to contact you the day after, you kept it a secret for so long. You told Aaliyah a full two months after it happened. She promised she wouldn’t tell anyone, and Aaliyah never breaks her promises. So who the hell told Jordan?

“Your car or mine?” Shawn’s words broke your train of thought, shaking you out of your trance to look at him pulling on his shoes on the staircase.

“Yours, I’m all outta gas.” You chuckled.

“You gonna be okay to go home?” You couldn’t help but feel a few butterflies batting their wings in your stomach at the slight protectiveness you were getting from him.

“I’m staying over, but I’ll figure something out tomorrow. Come on, I have a playlist in mind.” You skipped your way out of the house, scrolling through your phone to find the playlist.

You walked to the passenger side of Shawn’s Jeep, waiting to hear him unlock the car. When you heard the beep, you pulled the car door open only for it to still be locked. You looked up to find Shawn standing near the Tesla and not the Jeep.

“I thought we could take this one for tonight. We always use the Jeep.” Shawn shrugged.

“That’s because I love the Jeep. Come on Shawn, you know I’m not one for fancy shit.” You looked at him and nodded towards the Jeep one more time.

“Whatever you want, honey.” There they were again, those pesky butterflies.

You climbed into the car and connected your phone to the car bluetooth. You hit shuffle on the playlist you had ready as Shawn buckled up.

“I love this song.” Shawn smiled, head bopping to the melody. Shawn looked at the screen that he had installed where the radio used to be. “Is the playlist called Shawn?”

“Yup.”

“Why do you have a playlist called Shawn?”

“I have a playlist ready for anyone I might be in a car with. There’s Liyah, there’s Jordan, there’s Liyah and Jordan. I have their song on there ‘cause the look on their faces when it comes on is so adorable. And one for my mom and your mom and you know, a lot of people.” You scrolled through your playlists, naming them and explaining little things about each one.

“That’s cute.” Shawn pointed out. “The thing about Aaliyah and Jordan. That you know their song. I don’t even know their song.”

“Mm, perks of being the best friend.”

You and Shawn easily slipped into conversation, stopping every once in a while to sing along loudly to any particular song. You noticed half an hour into the drive that the 15 minute ride to the movie theater was taking much longer than usual. Shawn was taking the long way...

When you arrived, there was about 10 minutes left before the movie would start. Shawn missed a lot of turns apparently. You walked in and got your snacks and beverages and went to your screen.

You had no clue why you had booked this movie because it was the cheesiest rom-com you had ever seen. It came to the point where it was a full on comedy for you. You were glad Aaliyah hadn’t come with you to see it because she would have hated it. Shawn however, found it absolutely hilarious.

You snickers kept getting you glares and loud hushes to be quiet from the movie goers around you.

"Hey, you wanna get out of here? The park’s like two minutes away.” Shawn whispered into your ear about halfway through the movie.

“I thought you’d never ask.” You snickered. You let Shawn take your hand and lead you out of the cinema.

You walked in a comfortable silence towards the park nearby, hands still intertwined. But you weren’t the one keeping track.

“We used to come to this park all the time in high school, remember?” Shawn reminisced, holding out a swing for you. You slipped on and nodded for Shawn to get on the one next to you.

“I remember. I miss those nights. We were such kids.” You chuckled, digging your boot covered feet in the snow beneath you.

“Tell me about it.” Shawn scrunched his nose. “I had my first kiss here. I think it was 8th grade.”

“No way, me too!” You smiled, turning to Shawn. “Who was yours?”

“Betty Stevens. You?”

“Jordan.” You grimaced.

“What? No way!” Shawn laughed. “Does Aaliyah know?”

“Of course she does! I would never do that to her. It was spin the bottle back in 9th grade. He was super sweet about it, though.” You smiled, remembering him asking if you were okay with it.

Shawn scoffed. “Why the hell were a bunch of freshmen playing spin the bottle at a public park?”

“I honestly don’t remember.” You laughed. “Remember that bonfire we had at the beach one time. It was a bunch of your friends and Liyah and I tagged along. The one where Brian stripped and jumped into the freezing water. That’s one of my favorite memories, you know?”

“I remember that night. Me too, but the Brian part isn’t what makes it one of my favorite.” Shawn smiled, inching his swing closer to yours.

“Ugh, shut up. You know what I mean.” You rolled your eyes in response, hitting his boot with your own. “That night, when everyone left and it was just you, me, and Liyah. And we just talked all night long. Didn’t come home till the sun was up. I love that memory.”

“My mom got so mad at me that night. For keeping you guys out all night long to watch the sunrise.” Shawn chuckled, his hand now holding one chain from his swing and one from yours.

“You never told me that.”

"It didn’t matter because it was so worth it.”

“Why is that?”

“Because you love watching the sunrise.”

You and Shawn walked back to the car, hand in hand. The drive home just as long as the drive to the theater, and just as full of butterflies.

When you got home, you slowly unlocked the front door as to not wake anyone up. Tip toeing up the steps until you reached Aaliyah’s room.

“y/n?” Shawn whispered, taking both of your hands into his. “Do you wanna go on a date?”

“Like a date date?” You whispered back, eyes blown wide.

“Mhm, at the Auberge du Pommier. I know you’ve been wanting to go.” Shawn nodded.

“I have.” You replied.

“Friday at 8. Is that okay with you?” He asked.

“It’s perfect, Shawn. Thank you for coming with me tonight. I had a wonderful time.” You whispered, smile evident in your voice as it was concealed in the darkness.

“Me too.” Shawn leaned down and kissed you lightly on your lips. “Friday at 8. I’ll pick you up.”

And with that he walked down the hall and into his room. You slowly brought your hand up and traced your cupid’s bow. It was like your lips were on fire.

You slowly opened the door to Aaliyah’s room and sat down in her desk chair. You couldn’t believe it. This had to be a dream.

Your phone pinged and you numbingly took it out of your pocket. You had to read the screen a few times before your brain processed what was in front of you.

jordan: how did it go tonight?

you: it was good

jordan: good?

you: fine it was great

you: listen i need to ask you something

jordan: shoot

you: how did you know about the kiss?

jordan: well

jordan: he told me

You put your phone on the charger and began rummaging through Aaliyah’s closet to find something to sleep in.

Shawn told him. That means Shawn never forgot.

You climbed into bed next to Aaliyah, who was fast asleep until you did so. “Hey, you’re back. How did it go?”

“It was good. How about you?” You pulled the blanket Aaliyah was hogging and brought it up to your chin.

“It was really nice. We went to the cutest restaurant and they started playing our song as soon we got in. Felt like it was a sign from the universe.” Aaliyah smiled, eyes closing as she slowly drifted back to sleep.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Listen, if you still wanna go to the Pompadour restaurant, tell me so I can call in advance. You know how busy those types of restaurants get around Christmas.”

“Actually, I’m gonna go with Shawn next Friday.”

It was like you flipped a switch because Aaliyah’s eyes flew wide open. “What?!”

“Shh, go to sleep. I’ll tell you about it tomorrow.”

“You can’t just say that and expect me to fall asleep.” She groaned.

“Goodnight, Liyah.” You grinned.

You tossed and turned all night. Well not literally, otherwise Aaliyah would have murdered you. But you stayed up all night thinking about the kiss Shawn gave you before he went to his room. There was no way you could mistake it any longer. Shawn was definitely into you. You couldn’t believe it.

You had managed to fall asleep for about an hour before the sun came up. The sunlight filtering in through the window woke you up, making you regret not closing the blinds the night before.

You grabbed your things and trudged downstairs. You grabbed a muffin from the breakfast table where Karen was already sitting. You gave her a hug and a wave goodbye and headed to your car.

As you sat down, you remembered you were almost fully out of gas. No way was the little bit left in the tank from last night going to be able to get you home.

You looked down at the gas gauge only to see your tank was completely full. You looked up and saw a sticky note on the rearview mirror.

figured something out for you -s

____________________

part 2

thankyou for reading my lovelies. i thought of this like a day ago or something idk but i also had bfb by victoria justice stuck in my head for a while so this is what came of it. pls dont forget to leave feedback! @shawncxlvins here it is love!

#shawn mendes #shawn mendes x reader #shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes fluff #shawn mendes writing #shawn mendes blurb #shawn mendes fanfiction #shawn mendes x y/n #shawn mendes x yn #shawn mendes x you #shawn peter raul mendes #aaliyah mendes

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jjbakaloskaiagathos · 5 years ago

Text

Once-Upon in Morioh-Cho: 1999 Summer Flashback 🚨

In the previous chapter:

Sophie has approached the house, wiping sweat from your face.

- Higashikata-san, welcome me to Morioh-Cho!

Chapter 2:

Stand name: [Mrs. Brightside]

Stand master: Marmalade Sophie

Ability: observing areas as if they are a hologram and transporting into them. Attack “Light Splash” allows to blind enemies and leaves small burns on their bodies. If Sophie is not focused, she will not control an area.

The girl is sitting at the table, putting her leg under a hip, and correcting the notes on the sheet. The room is lit up with one small lamp which stands on the chest. Sophie looks at the watch and notices that it has already been 1 a.m: the time, when many people go asleep. She has taken a glance with boredom at the crumbled paper, trying to formulate her thoughts and aims. Suddenly, the girl breaks into a tricky smile and starts write something fast.

- What will you say about that, Higashikata Josuke? It seems that our interview is turning into a quite interesting thing, is it?

Sophie has giggled and has attempted to imitate a serious face, imagining that she wears narrow glasses, a long black dress and ugly old shoes. She has begun to read out the questions and has burst out with a loud laugh, not reached the last one.

- No, no, I need to focus myself on the content. I must cross it out.

• Who inspired you to go through the police?

• How do you cope with your feelings at work?

• What is your dick size?

• Have you ever pissed at the street corner?

• What secrets do you use when you catch a criminal?

• What porn genre do you like?

• Do you want to fuck me?

That day had become a key to cope with assignment which was sent to the girl. When she used [Mrs. Brightside], she did not expect that the police and ambulance had just dealt with the cruel robbery. Sophie was struck by the officer’s great work, imagining how it would be if she interview him.

- I absolutely don’t remember his face… I guess Higashikata-san may be strong, intelligent and brave man, who devotes all the spare time to protecting Morioh-Cho. I suppose it will be gold experience, - says Sophie and with these thoughts she lays a bedsheet, grabs a blanket which covers her and has fallen asleep.

The police station is located near the center of a bed town. It is a modern two-storied building with sophisticated layout, distinguishing among various insignificant constructions. To reach this place was not a difficult mission for Sophie because the police station represents as an important part of Morioh-Cho’s protection. Standing in front of the designated point and crossing out today’s uncomfortable questions, the girl confidently has entered the large glass door.

The interior has been completely predictable: gray walls, a small number of plants on the windowsills, simple white lamps and many other things indicate that the place reflects a serious purpose. Near the entrance, Sophie sees a big metal detector and a man, representing as a security guard in the dark-blue uniform. He takes a glance at the girl and starts to come up.

- Who are you? You’re not allowed to come in.

- I’m Marmalade Sophie who works at Morioh-Cho radio station. I create an article about the police’s work of the town that’s why yesterday I reached an agreement to interview the officer Higashikata Josuke. I can show you my identification and then you let me through, do you?

- I don’t care about your personality because my work is to protect the building and people who are here. Take off any metal objects and open your bag.

- Wanker.

- What?

- Oh, never mind.

The girl has just put her earrings, bracelet and necklace, which is made of gold, on the table. When Sophie did these movements, she realized that it looks like checking before the final exams at school in Russia. The girl’s mood is gradually getting worse that is why she starts to get nervous and sweat.

- Oi, lady!

Sophie has turned around, seeing a stranger. It is a man of tall height and stocky build, wearing a dark pompadour and light hair on the sides, densely combed back. His face has small and irregular features that are complemented by two long intersecting scars. His amiable smile does not calm down Sophie that is why her armpits and hands start to sweat more. The girl is thinking about how she can reach Higashikata’s office without unpredictable meetings, but today it has turned out to be impossible.

- Mademoiselle, may I introduce myself? My name is Nijimura Okuyasu, a senior police officer. I hear that you’re a practicing student who works at Morioh-Cho radio station, and today you have come to find out some information about our work, don’t you?

- Nice to meet you, Nijimura-san. I’m Marmalade Sophie, you’re absolutely aware of my business. Don’t you help me to see Higashikata-san? I need to interview him.

- Of course! I can take you to the first floor.

Climbing up the stairs, the senior officer told Sophie some special points. It turned out that Nijimura-san has close relationships with Higashikata Josuke who remains a total mystery for the girl. Eventually, the couple has reached an important room.

- Good luck and don’t be afraid.

- Thank you!

When Sophie has opened the door, she can observe big windows which are skipping sunlight to the office, including beautiful furniture. There is a large desk which is made of real wood, a cabinet is full of books and folders, a board hangs on the wall, covered with photoshoots, a black matte sofa and a coffee table in front of it. The girl is more interested not in the interior but in the figure, sitting on the armrest of the chair.

It is a man with large features, especially his deep-blue eyes and full lips. It is funny the thick arched eyebrows match his relaxed and kind face. Sophie can only see this sitting pose but she can guess his height exactly because of the frame. Higashikata-san looks stunning: dark hair represents as a wild pompadour, gold circle-earrings get the girl’s attention and uniform with expensive decoration suits perfectly. There is no reason to doubt that he is so handsome.

- Good morning, Marmalade Sophie. Have you reached the police station without any problems? I’m waiting for you, - says the man, standing up from the armrest.

- Good morning, Higashikata-san. Yes, I have. Thank you.

- Perhaps, you want to drink, do you? If it is, I will be able to ask a secretary about a cup of tea or coffee.

- Thank you but I don’t. And now the closer: your colleague told me that you’re aware of my visit. I was really inspired by your great work when you catch a robber. It was so fantastic! Can I ask you some questions about the police? The town and Japan must know the heroes which will be described in my article.

- I ask the questions here, not you.

Instantly, there is awful silence. Sophie did not expect that she would embarrass herself like that for the first time. The girl looks at him, starting to get nervous again, choosing the right words to continue this awkward conversation. Sophie often takes everything personally that is why in the school times she was always crying about little things. One day the girl broke her leg and had a decision to visit a doctor. At hospital a haughty woman shouted at her, accusing of breaking the queue. Sophie burst into tears in front of the doctors, sobbing every minute. Now she feels the same.

- Oh, what happened to your face? It’s a joke! My stupid joke…

It does not help.

- So… You seem pretty young, you’re a student, aren’t you?

- Yes, I am. I’m a sophomore and my department… Whatever. May I start an interview?

- Of course. There is no need to stand, sit down.

The conversation started with simple questions about the police and its definition in the officer’s eyes. Higashikata Josuke told Sophie many interesting facts and accidents which had to face. He answered that the reason, why the organization operates as a single well- set mechanism, is because of industrious people who work there. The main aim of Morioh-Cho police is a protection of the town.

- You said the organization is good at coping with difficult and confusing criminal cases and that’s right: there are no unsolved ones but I have found out some information about Kosaku Kawajiri. This man vanished about ten years ago and the wife and the son still have been waiting for…

- I won’t be able to answer your question.

- Why? It’s general quest…

- I don’t like to repeat: I refuse to answer this question, - says the officer, taking his eyes off.

It is getting dark outside. From this room it can see how street lamps have started to light up a full road. The officer is sitting against the window that is why his face is covered with a mysterious shadow, which can admit only the perfect features.

- You have a secret, in which you don’t want to involve me and my readership, do you?

- Marmalade-san, you’re pushing a line.

- A true journalist never pushes a line, he tend to think real information. If I write wrong things in my texts, I will mislead many people. Please, tell me about this per…

- Do you hear me? The conversation is over.

- Higashikata… Josuke, is it your name? The part “ske” can be read like “jo”. What an interesting one, - says Sophie, teasingly looking at his face.

- What are you up to?! - asks officer, getting furious.

- Exactly, the interview is over. Goodbye, JoJo.

The girl has stood up and shut the door roughly. Sophie is thinking about how she can get an archive, where definitely there are important notes about citizens. Perhaps, can the girl use [Mrs. Brightside] to find a direction? But at this time, she is being mad at Higashikata-san and at the thought that her mind treats him as a lovely man. Suddenly, someone grabs her elbow in a sharp way.

- What’s wrong with you? No need to become Dale Cooper in a skirt.

- Harry S. Truman, immediately, let me go.

- One more move and I will speak differently with you.

Sophie sees his eyes. She cannot believe that this kind and pretty face may hurt her. The girl is not surprised that Higashikata Josuke turned out to be very tall and upper-body. Their glances have met for a couple of seconds.

- To hell with it, I'm off! It’s a torture being here! - shouts Sophie, approaching the entrance, - Just so you know, this guard made me to open my bag and show my personal stuffs! He knows that girls keep spare pants and sanitary napkins, such a pervert!

Two men are standing against the wall and watching how Sophie goes out, ignoring the metal detector.

- Higashikata-san, I can…

- You can’t. Let her go.

⬅️ To be continued

#jojo bizarre adventure #jjba #our own story #sophie #josuke higashikata #okuyasu nijimura

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crying-gay-tears · 5 years ago

Text

Brighter Than the Sun

A freshman in college AU!

Chapter 1: New Places, New Faces

August 25th. Today was the day. Gon had been waiting for this day for years, and the anticipation only intensified when he received his acceptance letter in the mail a few months ago. After a teary goodbye with Aunt Mito, he was finally off on his own and starting college. Whale Island wasn’t that far from York New City, though Mito fervently disagreed--”Not that far?! It’s a boat, train, and bus ride away!”-- Either way, Gon had arrived safely, and as promised, he texted her to let her know. The entrance to the campus was a large iron gate, and a statue of a catbear stared down at him.as he crossed the threshold of his father’s alma mater.

Ging had walked these same grounds decades before and went on to become a world renowned Archaeologist. His career was demanding and exciting, so much so that it kept him abroad most of the time. It became Gon’s dream from a very early age to follow in his father’s impossibly large footsteps, traveling the world exploring and discovering artifacts and lost civilizations. It had to be amazing if it was worth missing out on so much of his son’s life.

Suitcase in tow, he climbed the stairs leading to the administration building two at a time, and eagerly tugged on the large oak doors. Once inside, he noticed a small line forming across the lobby. A banner reading ‘Freshman Check In’ was hung above a long table on the back wall. He joined the line and waited, shifting from foot to foot as excitement coursed through him. When it was his turn to step up to the table, a petite woman with blonde pigtails came into view. She smiled warmly at him as he approached.

“Hello! Welcome to York New University! What’s your first and last name?”

“Hello, thank you! My name is Gon Freecss.”

She sifted through some folders lined up neatly in front of her before pulling one out of a stack and handing it to him.

“This packet has your room number and key in it, as well as a brochure of course options. You’ll want to select your classes and build your schedule online as soon as possible. You’re in Hunter dorm located just North of the library. Follow the brick walkway through the courtyard and you can’t miss it. Best of luck and welcome to YNU!”

Before he could say anything more, the next student in line was being motioned forward, so he turned and headed out the door and to his dorm. Grass and trees decorated the space between buildings, and the walkways were buzzing with students. The biggest and oldest looking building he passed had a cool tower on the side of it. He wondered what it was, and couldn’t wait to find out!

After a while he arrived at a large, multi story brick building. Gold lettering over the entrance read ‘Hunter Dormitory’. With a deep breath, he headed inside. His room number was 405A, so he boarded the elevator, and pressed the button for the 4th floor. It let him out on the top level of the building and into a long hallway. He passed room 400, then 401, 402, 403, 404, and finally, at the very end of the hallway, 405.

The front door opened to a common room with a couch, mini fridge, a tv, and a coffee table. On the far wall there was a door to the right labeled ‘A’ and one to the left labeled ‘B’ His room was pretty standard, just four white walls with a bed, desk, and dresser. It looked so plain and boring, he couldn't wait to make the space his own. He had to remember to thank Mito for reminding him to pack some decorations. There was a window by the bed overlooking a courtyard, and on the left wall was the door to the bathroom. When he stepped into the shared bathroom, he saw another door on the wall opposite his. Curious, he turned the knob and peeked inside. It opened to a room that was identical to his own. His roommate must not have arrived yet, as the room was still empty. Disappointed, he closed the door with a click.

He returned to his room and flopped onto the bed. His mind was racing, imagining what his roommate would be like, what his classes and professors would be like, what friends he would make and what clubs he would join. This had all been just a dream for so long, and now he was, finally living it. His phone buzzed in his pocket, letting him know that it was 12:45. Oh! He almost forgot! He stood in a flash, slung his backpack over his shoulder, and skipped out the door for freshman orientation.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Killua was not very excited about being forced to attend a freshman orientation. Wasn’t the whole point of college to get away from people telling him what to do? Nevertheless, here he was, making his way to the small group forming under a large oak tree in the center of the campus’s main courtyard. As he approached them he noticed a tall man standing in the center of everyone and motioning for people to move as he called out.

“Please gather around me so everyone can hear!” The man was wearing white slacks, and his dark hair was shaped into a large pompadour. When the group was settled, he spoke again. “Hello everyone, and welcome to York New University! My name’s Knuckle Bine, I’m a junior here and the RA of Hunter dorm! I’ll be your guide around campus today. It’s my job to help you guys get acclimated to your new environment, and to teach you the in’s and out’s of life here at YNU!”

His eyes scanned the group from one end to the other, a smile on his lips. “To start, I’d like to break the ice here with an introduction game! We’ll go around the circle and introduce ourselves. When it’s your turn, tell us your name, your major if you’ve chosen one, something about yourself, and a reason you’re here at the University! I’ll go first. I’m Knuckle and my major is Pre-Veterinary Medicine. Something about myself is that I love animals! I came to college to make a career for myself that helps them!” His smile was warm as he turned to the person to his left with expectant eyes. “Now, your turn!”

Killua did his best to focus on the petite girl who was now speaking--shit, what did she say her name was? Ponzu?--but his mind was busy rushing to think of the right thing to say for when it was his turn to speak.They were a group of complete strangers, standing together in the grass, and they were really expected to just… introduce themselves? With such weird and arbitrary questions? What was he supposed to say? This was not how he wanted to start meeting new people once he finally got away to college.

Alright, name was easy, major was undecided so also pretty easy, if a little embarrassing. What was next? Something about himself? What? That was such a broad thing to ask! And he only had a few more people before his turn. And shit! He had not been paying attention. He glanced up to see where the next person speaking was. Okay, he had about 6 more people before it was his turn. His eyes fell on the next person, a boy about his height with black spiky hair and bright, round colored eyes the color of honey.

“Hello!” he waved cheerily around the semi circle, a bright smile on his face. “My name is Gon Freecss. I’m not exactly sure of my major just yet, but I’m thinking about Environmental Biology or maybe Anthropology. I’m from Whale Island and I love hiking and exploring. I’m here because this is my life’s next adventure and I’m excited to learn and make some new friends!”

Killua thought this guy was a little overzealous, but he seemed nice enough. He was wearing green shorts and a cream tank top that revealed tan, muscular limbs. His gaze roamed up the boy’s body, noticing broad shoulders, a strong jaw, full lips, and then, those eyes…eyes that were now staring right back at him. Crap. He quickly turned his head away, a blush creeping across his cheeks. Welp. That was awkward. Oh shit, now there were only 2 more people before him. When it was finally his turn, he spoke quickly and avoided eye contact.

“I’m Killua. I’m undecided and I’m here because I graduated high school and this was the next step. I guess something about me is that I like to skateboard.” He felt a rush of relief as the next person started speaking, and focused intensely on the rest of the people as they spoke so his eyes wouldn’t wander back to that boy--Gon--again.

A few people later, and Knuckle was the one speaking. “Alright! That’s everyone. Now that we’re all acquainted, we can begin the campus tour! Follow behind me closely, and feel free to ask any questions you may have along the way!” With a bright smile, he turned on his heel and walked across the lawn.

The tour was relatively uneventful, Killua was pretty bored most of the time. Hadn’t these people done a campus tour? His mother barely let him attend a college so far away, let alone without touring it first. The only thing keeping him occupied was occasional glimpses at Gon’s facial expressions. He was very easily amused and his face lit up with each new place they entered. Killua had never seen someone so happy and energetic before. It was almost tiring to watch, but he found himself looking up at the boy frequently. They walked through some of the classrooms, followed by the main campus administration building, a few of the degree program offices, the campus gym, and finally the cafeteria.

“Okay guys, we’ve got one stop left, but first, we’re going to break for lunch! I like to eat my lunch on the green,” he motioned to the expansive lawn they were standing on, “but you’re welcome to eat inside as well. Just make sure you meet back here in 45 minutes!”

With that, the group dispersed. Killua, deciding he wasn’t hungry enough to venture into the cafeteria, sat down under a shady tree. He was scrolling mindlessly on his phone when he heard soft footsteps in the grass next to him. He glanced up to see who it was and his breath caught in his throat. Golden eyes were staring down at him, accompanied by an ear to ear smile.

“This seat taken?”

“Uh, no?” Killua watched as Gon crossed his legs and plopped down in the grass next to him.

“You don’t have any food, aren’t you hungry?” Gon asked, voice tinged with concern.

“Oh, I guess I just didn’t feel like dealing with the cafeteria line.”

Gon immediately began rifling through his backpack. He pulled out a sandwich, an apple, and a bottle of water. “Here, have some of my lunch!” He passed the apple to Killua, and offered him half of the sandwich as well.

“No thank you, I couldn’t take your lunch from you.”

“You’re not taking it from me, I’m sharing it with you! C’mon, at least have the apple.”

He wanted to argue, but Gon’s smile was almost a pout and his eyes were burning into him, so he quickly grabbed the apple and took a bite. Gon grinned in response and took a bite of his sandwich.

“So, your name is Killua? I’m Gon! It’s nice to meet you!”

Killua swallowed hard and ignored how his stomach flipped when Gon said his name.

“Yeah, it’s nice to meet you too.” The two sat in comfortable silence for a bit, eating and watching the activity on the lawn around them. Gon was the first to speak.

“So, are you from York New City?”

Killua shook his head. “My family lives on a compound in the Kukuru Mountains, a few hours North of here.”

“Oh yeah? That’s so cool! My Aunt Mito and I went on a hiking trip there a few years ago. The forest at the base of the mountains is beautiful!”

Killua raised an eyebrow. “The forest is also pretty dangerous, y’know.”

Gon chuckled. “Don’t worry, I basically grew up in nature, my survival skills are pretty good. Not that Mito would’ve let me hike off trail or as far as I wanted to anyway.”

“You said you’re from Whale Island, what’s it like there?”

“Whale Island is beautiful. The forest there is lush and the wildlife is diverse. I spent all of my free time outside exploring alone, learning every inch of the island.”

“Alone?”

“Yeah, there weren’t many kids my age. It’s a small port town; so a great deal of the population there is people in town for business for a few weeks or months at a time. The locals are mostly older folks. There were only a few families around when I was growing up, but they all had girls. I made friends with them just fine, and with the kids that would move in and out of town. But I never really had solid friends, and never a best friend.”

Killua nodded solemnly. “Yeah, I know what you mean. I never had any real friends either. No one I could trust or that I actually enjoyed spending time with. I got to know the kids that my parents’ business partners would regularly bring to parties, and I knew some kids at boarding school too; but most of them were boring or snobby or both. So I was alone a lot.” Killua’s gaze shifted down, his fingers nervously raked through the grass. He wasn’t sure why he was suddenly spilling his guts to a stranger, but something about Gon being so open made him want to open up as well. He could feel Gon staring at him, and when he looked up he was met with a pair of warm golden eyes, and an understanding smile. That smile made his stomach flip...again.

“Killua?”

“Yes?”

“Would you like to be friends?”

”I--w-what?” he stammered, eyes wide with surprise.

Gon didn’t waiver, his smile only grew wider. “I think you’re really cool, and I’d like to be your friend! Would you like to be mine too?”

“Uh, s-sure. Yeah, we can be friends.” he rubbed at the back of his neck, trying to calm his embarrassment along with the excitement bubbling up inside of him.

Gon was positively beaming. “I’m so glad! This is gonna be great!”

Gon’s excitement was contagious, and Killua couldn’t help but smile.

~~~~~~~~~~~

For the rest of their lunch break, the two talked and laughed. They were really hitting it off, and Gon was so happy to have made such a cool new friend. Killua even promised to teach him how to skateboard if he taught him how to fish! Before they knew it, Knuckle was clapping his hands and waving for everyone’s attention.

“Okay folks, it looks like everyone’s finished eating, so it’s time to finish our tour!” He pointed to the large building behind them and motioned for them to follow. They all stood and headed across the lawn towards a large brick building with a marble staircase on either side of the double door entrance. It was the building with the tower Gon noticed earlier.

Knuckle led the group up the stairs and inside. When he spoke next, it was in a hushed tone. “Everyone, welcome to the library! This is the biggest building on campus, and where you will probably spend most of your time.The best way to learn this place is to explore it yourself, and since this is the last stop, feel free to stay as long as you like.You’re also free to go whenever you’d like. I’ll be around for a bit if you have any questions or want to chat. I hope you enjoyed the tour today and again, welcome to NYU!!” He ended with a bright smile, and the group began to disperse.

After a chat with Knuckle, Gon headed straight for the elevator to explore each floor. He asked Killua to join him, but he declined saying he had some stuff to do, so they exchanged numbers and went their separate ways. By the time he finished in the library, it was well after 5. He stopped at the cafeteria for a quick bite to eat and then headed back to his room.

He was unpacking when he heard shuffling in the other bedroom. His roommate must be home! He headed out to the common room and knocked on the other door. Gon heard some more shuffling before the door swung open to reveal a familiar face. He stared in surprise and ocean blue eyes stared right back through a frame of silver hair.

#killugon #gonkillu #gon #killua #gon freecss #killua zoldyck #hunter x hunter #hxh #hunterxhunter #killugon week 2020 #killugon week #killuhonweek2020 #killugonweek

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themaskedwriter · 6 years ago

Text

Cutting it Close

Clues: I like to ‘do things’ ‘in the wild’, like surround myself with rainbow people! If I’m not writing I’m hosting yet another session of Dungeons and Dragons or taking care of My Drunk Roommate.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader, Platonic! Tony Stark x Reader, Platonic! Sam Wilson x Reader, Platonic! Bucky Barnes x Reader Word Count: 6k Warnings: Fluff all the way through

Summary: When you moved out to New York to escape a relationship and humdrum life, you had planned on getting a job working at a salon or barber shop. What you hadn’t planned on was getting a job at a barber shop at the foot of Avengers Tower and becoming the go-to for most of the team. You also hadn’t expected to catch the attention of Captain America’s baby blue eyes.

It was hard proving yourself as anything in New York City, the sprawling metropolis acting as the East Coast’s version of Los Angeles. Actors working as waitresses during the night so they could audition at Broadway and smaller theatre companies during the day, fashion designers swamping Mood fabrics with a raw hope of running into Tim Gunn and a camera crew; script writers, models, business start ups, writers, everyone swarmed this city. That didn’t even count the people who had grown up in this bustling nonsense and didn’t have the common sense to leave.

“I just don’t know how anyone can even afford to live in Brooklyn,” I lamented to my client as I raked a comb through the top of his hair.

The pompadour was back in style, high and tight shave on the sides with long sweeping locks on top held in place with way too much pomade. The only problem was guys these days didn’t want to have to put too much effort into styling their hair like they did back in the forties and fifties, hyper masculinity creeping in from the sixties and seventies when all the men wore their hair short and sensible following Korea and Vietnam.

“Unless you grew up there and have rent lock, you don’t,” the man laughed flipping a page of the newspaper he was reading.

Getting a job even working as a barber had been hard, most stylist and barbers out here got their license and job through apprenticing under an established owner and then received their job security that way. But I had to get as far away from my asshole ex as possible and there was no easier place to get lost than in a city that already had far too many people. I had gone into a lot of salons before finally a barber who was getting up there in age and low on staff decided to take a risk on a girl from some backwoods state.

“So where did you find to stay?” He asked in the sense that he didn’t care, he had just run out of small talk as I drug the straight razor along his nape to sharpen his outline.

“Small place in Greenwich Village. It seems like a good neighborhood so far,” I responded cheerily. I didn’t mention how every appliance I had didn’t seem to work, including my radiator which was starting to be more of a concern as the temperatures dropped. He didn’t want to hear my problems and I didn’t want him to think I was fishing for a larger tip. “All set, Mr. Conroy.”

I moved the mirror around behind him so he could look at the large one in front of him and see the back of his head to affirm that the neckline looked good and his cowlick was manageable. Paying his forty dollars for his cut and leaving me a five, I still managed to sell him a puck of the pomade I used before wishing him a good rest of his day and turning to clean up my station.

It was just me today, the rest of the boys who worked here had stayed out late for the Superbowl celebrations, rooting against Tom Brady and then having to drink their disappointment away had taken a lot out of them. I didn’t look up as the bell above the door tinkled, focusing instead on trying to sweep all the hair shavings into the bin.

“Hi there, just a moment please!” I called out over my shoulder as I rushed to toss the dirty towels in the hamper and grab some clean ones.

“Take your time, ma’am,” came the polite response, something that was a rarity in the sprawling metropolis.

Finally turning I stopped dead in my tracks as I stared up at a shaggy, but beautiful Captain America. I was not prepared for this, people in New York saw The Avengers out and about all the time. Getting coffee, coming in and out of the tower down the street for meetings, grabbing lunch. I, however, was not prepared in the slightest. I assumed they had their own people for their personal upkeep.

“Do you have any openings for a shave and a cut?” the Captain asked hesitantly after I gawked at him for probably an inappropriate amount of time.

“Uh, yes! Yes, sir! Come on back with me,” I ushered to my barber chair and underneath the thick tawny beard I could detect a hint of a rosy flush.

“Steve is just fine, ma’am.” He insisted and I managed to flash a smile.

“Well, Y/N is just fine for me.”

Steve settled in and I flared a cape around his broad shoulders and clasped it behind his neck. I ran my finger between the neck of the cape and his skin, like standard and ignored the shiver that passed down his spine.

“Is this too tight?” I asked habitually and he shook his head.

“No,” he answered softly as I ran my fingers through his long golden locks, pulling them horizontally from the ridge of his head so I could get an accurate idea of how long it was.

“What are we thinking today, Steve?”

“Well, um, I have to do press related stuff again so I need to get rid of all of it. Tony gave me an electric razor, but it got caught,” Steve lifted his chin to show where underneath there was a patch of what started as a clean shear to then looking a little mangled.

I giggled and nodded trying not to freak out that Captain freaking America was talking to me so flippantly about who could only be Tony Stark. “Well, at least you started underneath. Do you style your hair at all when it’s short?” Grabbing my clippers I slip a half inch guard on it and start running it up the back of his head, tossing the shaved parts off to the side.

“Sometimes I’ll use a little grease to spike the front. Sam says it’ll help with ‘the ladies’, Buck says it stops me from twitching it out of my eyes all the time like I did as a kid when we couldn’t afford to cut it.”

It’s strange, the raw brutal honesty that people speak to their hairdressers with. It’s something I’ve long become accustom too. Women have said they’ve had easier times leaving their husband than their hairdresser, but the men are the most loyal. They’re in every four weeks like clockwork and I selfishly hoped that Steve wouldn’t be any different.

A comfortable silence fell over us as I worked, blending his sides into his top as my shears snipped inches of rough and damaged ends off onto the linoleum floor. When I finished with his haircut I held up my hand mirror behind him like I always do.

“How’s this feel?” I ask and his runs his large hands through his hair.

“Wow, it looks exactly like I used to have it cut back in the day,” Steve admired, now looking more hipster than hobo since I hadn’t gotten around to his scruffy beard.

“Well, I cheated and used a reference picture,” I snickered and pointed to the far wall where Steve, Tony, Natasha, Clint, Thor, and Bruce all stood for a photo op after saving New York from hordes of aliens.

“Oh, god, I forget how many places around here have that dumb article hanging on their walls,” Steve grumbled, sobering instantly.

I bit my lip and mixed up the shaving cream. “If it makes you feel any better, I’m not from New York so I don’t think you’re all that impressive.” It was supposed to come across as teasing, but my tone fell flat and I instantly flushed hoping that I didn’t insult him.

Steve blinked his impossibly blue eyes at me a few times before breaking out into one of the most genuine, gut shaking, laughs I’ve ever heard. His right hand reached up to clutch at his heart, or grab his boob, I wasn’t really sure, and he doubled over in his seat. When he finally got control of himself he had to wipe a tear from his eye and he looked up at me with sparkling eyes and a wide smile.

“I cannot tell you how happy I am to hear that,” he wheezed and settled himself back into the chair so I could spread the shaving cream on his cheeks and chin.

I laughed softly and sucked my lips in, showing him to mimic, and when he did I spread the cream over his upper lip. Clipping the sharpening leather around my hip, I pulled out a worn leather pouch and flipped it open, the silver straight razors gleaming in the sunlight. Pulling one out I flipped it open, palming the ivory handle tightly as I drug the steel across his cheeks, scraping and sloughing off the coarse hair.

“I haven’t had this done since before the war,” Steve muttered carefully.

“Which one?” I asked, trying not to get overwhelmed by the spice of his cologne that was now assaulting me since I was so close.

“Oh, you know, just the big one,” he responded cheekily, letting me tilt his jaw up so I could carve around the sharp bone and down his throat.

“You’re awful trusting for someone who’s been in so many that they have big ones and little ones.”

“Yeah, well, if you see everyone as an enemy you wouldn’t get to meet pretty girls who told you weren’t all that impressive.”

I feel my cheeks burn and I can’t help the goofy smile on my face as I move to his chin, biting down on my bottom lip to get him to protrude the little baby beard under his plump bottom lip.

“Doc usually kicks out guys who try to woo me, you know,” I warn, the teasing tone of my voice working this time.

Steve tries to restrain the smile that wants to take over his face and crinkle the space I was shaving. “I’ll have to keep it to myself then when he’s around.”

By the time I finished shaving Steve and wiping the cream off his face with a warm towel he looked twenty years younger. Steve rubbed his large hand over his jaw as I removed the cape from around his neck.

“I feel like I lost ten pounds,” he joked and I looked down at the floor with all the hair at my feet.

“I could probably make a small dog out of that,” I joked back and immediately swept it into a dust bin. “I’m not going to come get mobbed for Captain America’s hair clippings, am I?”

Steve winced and pulled out his wallet. “God, I hope not.” He laughed and handed me a hundred dollar bill.

“I’ll get your change,” I commented and went over to the till.

“No, it’s all yours. You earned it,” Steve insisted.

“Steve, that’s like forty dollars for a tip,” I said in shock still holding out the bill.

“Thanks again, Y/N!” he beamed and threw on his jacket before backing out of the shop with a wave before I could make him take his money back.

It had been a few days since Steve had been in, the boys didn’t believe me at first so Doc had pulled up the security camera footage. They all bitched and moaned about how they missed speaking to Captain America and shaking his hand and bro-ing over whatever bros broed about before Doc erased the footage.

“Don’t trust them paparazzi sort. If the Captain wants to use us as his shop, we keep it to ourselves,” the old marine barked, causing the shop boys to quiet down and nod in agreement.

The day had been typical, a few fades, a shave or two, and the business man who came in once a week to see me for barely a trim just so he could have a girl wash his hair. He was lonely, but nice, and tipped well so I kept taking him.

Just as Doc was sending me home the door opened with it’s pleasant chime and the whole shop went quiet. I turned to look over my shoulder to see Tony Stark standing there, adjusting the cuffs of his shirt under his suit jacket and examining the humble little corner shop.

“Mister Stark,” Doc greeted walking forward to shake the man’s hand. “What a pleasure. How can I help you today?”

“I am actually looking for Y/N. Our resident star spangled man couldn’t stop talking about what a great job she did after my electric razor apparently nearly zapped his face off. Thought I’d see what all the fuss was about,” Tony explained looking passed the old owner and spotting me by my station.

“I can take you now if you’d like, Mister Stark,” I offered, slipping my jacket back off and hanging it on the hook, trying not to show how nervous I was.

I wasn’t nervous because it was Iron Man, Iron Man always had a mask on. Tony Stark, however, was on the front cover of most magazines, and headlining the evening news, and a prominent figure in the community. Tony Stark’s haircut and face were seen at least twenty times a day by very influential people and that was a very terrifying thought.

“Tony is fine, please,” he assured as he settled himself into my cracked leather chair after also handing me his own suit jacket which I hung up next to my own.

Flourishing the cape over him I performed the same routine; snap the cape, run my finger along the inside, ask if it’s too tight. Tony assured that the cape was fine and my fingers immediately went into his graying hair along his parietal ridge, pulling softly and feeling for texture and thickness.

“So you’re testing me, then?” I asked, hoping to come across nonchalant. “What’s your goal?”

“Oh, you know, just make me even more handsome if possible,” he responded, crossing his left leg over his right.

“Uncross your legs,” I demand immediately, lightly smacking his shoulder with my comb.

He startled slightly but uncrossed them hurriedly, Doc made a disapproving clucking noise from the register where he was watching his newest hire. I cast him a small look of irritation before focusing back at Tony in my mirror.

“Do you get your sides cut with clippers or shears?”

“You’re the professional,” Tony quipped with a bemused expression.

I chuckle softly and pick up my spray bottle, spritzing him down thoroughly before picking up a barber comb and my cutting shears.

“So, Tony, I’m sure you have someone you pay way more than us to make sure you’re coiffed all pretty. Steve couldn’t have talked me up all that much,” I teased as I started cutting.

“Hasn’t stopped talking you up, more like. I swear, he checks his hair every time he walks by a mirror to see if it’s grown enough yet.”

I paused and my eyes flicked to Tony’s in the mirror. “Was it too short?” I asked nervously.

Tony rolled his brown eyes. “No, he’s too anxious to come back.”

Feeling a different sort of nervousness creep into my stomach I went back to what I was doing. Making my way around the sides of his head I went to the top and then grabbed my thinning shears to blend the line.

“I’m not going to get a phone call from an angry, overpaid stylist, am I?” I joke as I move to mix up the shaving cream in a bowl.

Tony quirked an eyebrow at me as I snapped the leather to my hip and swiped my straight razor up and down the length.

“What makes you think my stylist is overpaid?” he asked curiously with a hint of challenge.

I laughed and swiped cream around his cheeks and down his chin. “All celebrity stylists are overpaid. It’s the hairdresser’s dream.”

“Including yours?”

“I dunno, it’s a lot of pressure doing celebrities.”

“Well, don’t worry, no pressure from my end,” Tony assured.

I shrug one shoulder lackadaisically. “I know, you’re not all that famous.”

“Yeah,” he drew the word out slowly. “Pepper likes to tell me that all the time too.”

The soft scrape of blade sloughing hair from his face was one of the most relaxing sounds in the world. Using the corner tip to make the hard corners of his signature goatee, the tips of my fingers resting lightly under his chin to lift it to the height I needed to not cut him.

“Get this close with all your clients?” he teased and I frowned, quickly pulling my hand away.

“I need you to not talk for like, five minutes, unless you want to lose your lip,” I admonish strictly and he smirked but complied easily enough to allow me to finish.

Swiping my blade clean on a towel, I grabbed a clean warm one and wiped the cream off his face before letting him examine himself in the mirror.

“Huh, yeah, not bad kid,” Tony praised as I snapped the cape off.

“Anything I can fix or change?” I asked before ditching it in the dirty laundry bin.

“No, looks great.”

Tossing the cape in the bin I pass him his suit jacket that I had hung up earlier.

“That’ll be sixty dollars, please, Tony. Can I interest you in any of the product? I used the Mitch Clean Cut on you today.”

“Easy there, Y/N,” Doc interrupted. “We’re just glad you decided to try us out, Mister Stark. Your service is on the house today.”

Tony furrowed his brows in confusion and looked between me and Doc. “Is she commission based?” he asked.

“No, sir, hourly,” Doc responded.

“Okay, well, I appreciate it. Tip for you, Y/N. You know, I hate to admit when the Cap is right, but, well, I’ll see you in four weeks,” Tony commented loftily, shaking my hand and leaving a bill in my hand with a wink. He was out the door before I could process the hundred he left behind in my palm or the promise of his return.

“Listen, all I’m saying is if you just even just trim the shagginess you wont look like some murderous caveman.”

The warm, teasing voice filled the reception area as the bell tinkled above the doorway to the shop. I looked up from the clipper cut I was quickly pushing through to see none other than Sam Wilson and Bucky Barnes standing by the front counter. The guys had all taken off early for beers, leaving me to close on my own once again. Not that I minded, living in New York was way more expensive than my small town half way across the country. I would happily take all the clients they took for granted.

“There is nothing wrong with my goddamn hair,” Bucky grumbled angrily under his breath at his friend, his hands shoved deep into a leather jacket and a gray hood from his sweater under it pulled up over his head.

“Maybe not if you did anything with it. Like, wash it…or comb it…or ya know…anything really other than let it hang around your face or up in a manbun,” Sam sniped back with a friendly glare.

I smirked slightly. “I’ll be right with you, gentlemen, go ahead and have a seat.”

I finished the client in my seat to the sound of their playful bickering, paid him out and thanked him for coming in. “Alright, boys, who’s up first?”

“This man,” Sam said clapping his hand on Bucky’s shoulder and shoving him forward off the chair.

“What? I told you I wasn’t getting my haircut. I just came along because you promised me pizza after,” Bucky argued.

“Dude, I got my hair cut here earlier today. I’m still hurt you haven’t noticed,” Sam commented, his face looking exaggeratedly wounded before looking up at me. “I asked for you but they said you were closing then I felt too bad to tell the dude I didn’t want him to cut my hair.”

I cocked my head to the side and narrowed my eyes as I examined his fade. He instantly squirmed and rubbed at the back of his head. “Is it jacked up?”

“Joey did it, didn’t he?” I already knew Sam had been in earlier, Joey had been talking about his whole shift. The kid had been positively glowing by the time he left with the other guys.

“Yeah?” Sam’s eyes narrowed and he tried to move his body so he could see in a mirror as he continued to rub his fade self-consciously.

“Yeah. It looks good. I thought the blend was crooked but it’s just your ears, come on back guys. I’ll just sweep real quick.”

Behind me Bucky let out a bark of laughter and Sam scoffed telling him to shut the hell up.

“I guess your reputation proceeds you correctly,” Sam commented taking a seat at the station next to mine and turning the chair to face me.

I felt my cheeks heat up and frowned in confusion. “I don’t know how to take that.”

“Steve and Stark both said that you weren’t starstruck over the super famous superheroes,” Sam explained, waving away the notion that they had said anything bad.

“Oh,” I responded simply and patted my chair for Bucky. The man, while large and imposing, just shrunk further into his hoodie and looked at me warily.

“I don’t bite, dude, and I can hang up your jacket and zip up so they don’t get hair in them,” I offered, holding my hand out for his jackets.

“Um, can I…can I keep the sweater on?” he asked hesitantly, shrugging off the leather.

“Sure,” I shrug. “But you gotta flip the hood in.”

Bucky settled in while I hung up his jacket and pretended not to notice Sam mouthing at him to be cool. I’m not an idiot, I knew the story of Bucky Barnes and I figured he had plenty of shit he was working through and just being here was hard enough for him. Turning back I noticed he had stuffed his hood in so it was a giant lump behind his neck and I reached out slowly.

“I’m just gonna smooth this out, cool?”

He nodded and I carefully flattened out his hood under his collar before draping the cape over him. This time instead of snapping it closed first I held it at the clasp and looked at him in the mirror. He was avoiding looking into the reflective surface, his eyes cast down to where his hands were folded in his lap.

“Is this too tight?” I asked.

His eyes shot up to mine in the mirror briefly before looking away. “Can you go a bit looser?” he asked softly and I nodded, moving down one clasp and snapping it closed. He let out a noticeably shaky breath under my fingers.

“So I get the feeling that if I asked you what you wanted to do with your hair, you’d say leave it how it is,” I teased lightly as I grabbed a black comb from where it was resting on a clean towel and noticed the corners of his mouth twitch upward. I gently pulled a small subsection of his hair out with the comb, smoothed the shafts down and held it up towards the LED lights overhead. “But, you have about two inches of split ends that are just dead and not doing anything for you other than getting tangled and spreading to your healthy hair. If we cut all them off you should be good for another eight to ten weeks before needing another maintenance trim. Does that sound okay to you?”

Bucky swallowed the heavy lump in his throat before sending a glare to Sam who had been sitting quietly and letting me try to get Bucky settled before catching my eyes again. “Yeah,” he murmured huskily. “Sounds fine.”

“Great!” I was trying to stay light and chipper. Doc was an old marine veteran so I had seen my fair share of veterans with PTSD come through. Doc usually took them, but for all the older man’s brash and direct interactions he’d had with me; I’d learned a lot about to how to interact with a variety of people from him. It was fascinating watching Doc go from one client to the next, his personality changing to what the client in his chair needed.

“We’re gonna wash your hair first so I can cut it wet, okay?” I figured a step by step of what we were doing would be the easiest for him to handle. So he had the chance to say no to something if it made him uncomfortable.

I set my hand lightly across his shoulder, pulling back slightly when he flinched. “I need you to lean forward slightly so I can drop the back of your chair but not you.”

It was always unnerving doing your job under someone’s watchful eye. My first few weeks at the shop were rough with all the boys looking over my shoulder and Doc subtly checking over every one of my haircuts. But it was something else entirely to have Sam Wilson watch me with eagle eyes - well, Falcon eyes - as I handled his friend. He was making observations on me as a person, not a barber, and I had to fight the constant urge to squirm under his pointed gaze.

Gathering Bucky’s chestnut locks in one hand I guided him back down into the shampoo bowl slowly so he wouldn’t knock his head against the rim. “How do you like your water?” I ask, turning on the hose and sticking my fingers underneath as it warmed up.

“Hot as you can stand,” he responded, shifting so his neck would feel more comfortable against the acrylic tub.

“Want me to put a towel under your neck for some cushion?”

“It’s fine.”

Once the water was near scalding I started saturating his hair and looked up at Sam with a smile. “So, what smooth words did Joey use to get you in his chair?”

Sam smirked and crossed his arms over his broad chest. “He said you were stealing all the interesting clients. Had to throw the kid a bone.”

I smiled as I squirted some shampoo into my hands and started to gently work it through Bucky’s hair. “That was nice of you. He’s the biggest Falcon fan I have ever met. Please tell me he showed you his official hat?”

Joey was Doc’s apprentice, he was only seventeen and had tried to rob Doc with a water gun a few months back. Instead of calling the police, Doc offered him a job and the kid was a natural.

Sam looked extremely pleased with himself. “Yeah, I signed it for him.”

I hummed in approval as I applied gentle pressure around Bucky’s temples and the crown pressure point just above middle of his brows. “That was nice of you. He’ll be talking about it for weeks.” I deftly raked my fingers down the top of Bucky’s head to cup my hands just under his occipital bone and into the pressure points behind his ears where his jaw bone meets his skull. His eyes were closed and his breathing had evened out as he relaxed under my administrations.

I eased out of the massage so as not to shock him with sudden loss of contact as I started the hose up against. He startled slightly at the burst of water and I bit my bottom lip to stop myself from giggling. “Morning!” I chirped as I rinsed the shampoo from his hair and scalp.

“That was…really nice,” Bucky admitted taking another deep breath. “Was the shampoo supposed to tingle?”

“Yup,” I shut off the water and started applying conditioner to his long locks. “It has peppermint and tea tree extracts in it. Soothes and stimulates your scalp at the same time, but I just love the scent really.”

Rinsing the conditioner off I wrapped the towel around his hair and had him sit up so I could get his chair back in position. Tossing his towel in the soiled bin I start combing through his hair.

“Do you part off this front cowlick?” I ask, placing my comb on the spot just left of his center part.

“Sometimes.”

“Cool.” As I sectioned off his hair and started snipping all the dead ends off Bucky continued to relax more and more. “So what do you guys have planned for the rest of the night?”

“We were thinking of hitting Prince Street Pizza,” Sam said, having gone from watching me intently to scrolling on his phone.

“Oh, cool. I haven’t tried that one yet.”

“It’s the best pizza in Manhattan,” Bucky said with a face of total seriousness as he locked eyes with me.

Setting down my scissors and comb and flipping on the blow dryer and grabbing a boar bristle brush, I chuckled. “Well, then that will be the next pizza destination.”

“Wanna come with?” Sam asked nonchalantly.

I shook my head as I dried Bucky’s hair smooth. “I gotta call my mom tonight. If I don’t call her the same time and day every week she freaks out and thinks I got murdered.”

“You’re not from here,” Bucky observed, it was a statement and I nodded in agreement.

“Yeah, I moved here about a month ago.” I turned off the dryer and set it back in its cradle before removing the cape.

“How does it feel?” I asked Bucky, tossing the cape into the dirty bin.

Bucky actually looked at himself in the mirror and ran his fingers through his hair, not coming across any tangles or snags. It was soft and shiny and looked so much healthier than when he came in.

“It’s nice,” Bucky said with a small grateful smile. “Thank you.”

“Anytime, dude. I’m here every day except Tuesdays and Wednesdays.”

Leading them to the checkout, Bucky picked up a bottle of the shampoo I had used and like all the others left a more than substantial tip.

“So, eight to ten weeks Sergeant Barnes. Especially if you’re out saving the world and getting all battered. Also, switch from a regular elastic to a cotton tie, your hair is too fine for elastic, it’s breaking the cuticles of your hair.”

Bucky blinked at you a few times before nodding with a bashful smile, the tips of his ears a bright pink.

“I’d feel bad taking you from Joey, thanks again for doing all that Sam. And thanks for trusting me, Bucky,” I shook both men’s hands and Bucky chuckled softly.

“Well, we had to come see what actually got Steve and Stark to agree on something,” Bucky commented before both men departed with a friendly wave.

Looking up at the clock I noticed that it was a good half hour past closing so I locked the front door and started the closing chores, feeling good about what I had accomplished today.

The next day was Monday and I had been planning in my head all day what I was going to do with my middle of the week weekend. The last couple of days had been extra busy it seemed and I was looking forward to just lazing around the house and catching up on laundry and maybe do some prep cooking for the coming week. I had also been debating on getting a cat, so I would have someone to look forward to coming home to at the end of my shift.

“Captain Rogers! It’s good to see you again!” I heard Doc exclaim from the front where he had been showing Joey how to run some of the reports in the POS system.

My head whipped around so fast I almost slipped on the blend line on the client I was working on. Quickly going back to what I was doing so that no one could catch onto the small bit of bubbling anxiety that crept in. It had only been two weeks, there was no way he’d need his hair cut again so soon. Maybe a beard trim if he hadn’t been keeping up on it on his own. I peeked out to the lobby out of the corner of my eye and saw he was in fact still clean shaved so he must have been managing on his own and his hair cut was growing out just fine and didn’t need to be touched up quite yet.

He talked softly with Doc for a moment, shaking the older man’s hand and signing a quick autograph before taking a seat in the lobby, his hands folded in his lap as he patiently watched out the window into the Manhattan street.

The man in my chair impatiently cleared his throat and I mumbled a soft apology and continued his service. After finishing and checking the man out he looked up at me and then back at Steve still sitting in the chair. The man tossed a crumbled dollar bill at me. “Maybe next time pay more attention to what’s going on in front of you instead of getting star struck.”

I opened my mouth wordlessly, feeling the heat creep up on my cheeks as I fumbled with the bill he had thrown on the counter at me. Before I could defend myself the man was out the door into the cold New York air. Letting out a huff of hair and carding my fingers through my hair I shoved the dollar in my back pocket.

“What a jerk,” Steve admonished, looking behind himself at the door.

“Eh. It happens every once and a while.” I shrug and smile at him, leaning across the counter. “Thanks for sending me all your friends. I appreciate the referrals.”

“Well, you do a good job,” Steve said and then pink rose to his cheeks and tips of his ears. “Such a good job I was wondering if you’d like to grab a cup of coffee or something?”

I smiled so wide it made my cheeks ache. “I’d really like that Steve. I’m off in a couple of hours.”

“Go, take the rest of the day,” Doc hollered from across the shop, proving that he was most definitely not eavesdropping.

“You sure, Chief?” I ask over my shoulder, already reaching for my bag and jacket.

“Go on, before I change my mind and let Joey go with him instead.”

Steve held the door open for me as I threw my jacket on. As Steve smiled down at me and led me out into the loud and bustling streets of New York, I couldn’t help but think that this move was the right call after all.

#fic

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