#its easy to leave when the pay and hours are shit but its SO consistent rn

[autisthc]

sometimes i think back to my last roommate situation and i just……. like rich ppl are so wild its on another level. like everything about pretending to be poor and needing to control the ppl around them is so true it makes me really sad. idk man i wanted to believe it would work out and that they were ~ different ~ but the longer im living on my own the more i reflect upon how genuinely dystopian it all is,,, the people with the most opportunity and influence really squander it bc they dont view anyone as of consequence as their are, theyre so held back by their individualism its maddening

[passionfruitmango]

Gonna do a vent post, thank you if you choose to read, I respect if you choose to keep scrolling! 💖

Oh my god today is so hard. Even finding the words to describe is embarrassingly hard.

Kinda broke down to my boss this morning. I don't know if I had a full mental break but I got really close. I want to say she heard me but I also have this feeling that until I'm screaming and crying my mental health isn't taken seriously.

I'm tired of consistently starting my week having to finish someone else's job before I can even start mine, so many of the previous shifts assigned job duties have become mine (because obviously your fryer won't heat up if the vents aren't fuckimg turned on, among countless other things) and I have been telling my boss for going on a year now where this coworker needs to be talked to about improvement. This person is the type to improve in one area and drastically reduce in another. Why do they still have a job genuinely? Because my boss is more worried about finding someone to replace them than writing them up for their mistakes. Boss is "scared they'll quit" LIKE FUCKING GOOD. PLEASE. LET THEM GO.

Any time the morning shift coworker does something theyre "supposed to" it's like they find a way to do it wrong enough that it makes more work for me. What has me fucked up is this coworker ASKED ME TO TEACH THEM WHAT I WANT LEFT FOR ME WHEN I COME IN, I TAUGHT THIS COWORKER, AND THEY BLATANTLY DISREGARDED MY TEACHING UPON DOING IT THEMSELF. so why waste my fucking time? Disrespectful as fuck.

I genuinely have gotten past the point of rage to full blown dissociating. It's either that or I'm crying as I'm trying to do my job.

Could I tolerate this all if I at least got some kind of positive reinforcement from someone with a title or even a teammate? Possibly.

Am I aware I deserve better than this job has me feeling? Gods yes but we all know when you live in a small town and have been working somewhere for eons, it's not exactly easy to find another job at the same base pay youre currently at.

Idk. Boss told me they'll take it upon themself to make sure everything is done but that's not the point. That's a band aid fix and I told them that (im also almost certain we had the same discussion 6 months ago and here I am again) If I come in tomorrow and have to deal with the same shit I've been dealing with for the last year? I'm just going home. I have hundreds of hours of sick time, im going to start using them when I'm sick of the shit I'm dealing with. Ffs im not getting a prize or even a happy team of coworkers by burning myself like this. "If I don't do it-who will" headass stupid fucking expression I used to gaslight myself into thinking this is okay

ITS FUCKING NOT OKAY. I'm stressed in my personal life and need change and the fact I've had to spell that shit out to my boss countless times??? Fuck outta here I could take a month off with solid sick time and still have enough left to do it for another month. Suck my ass im done being your bitch, figure out how to fix your store or figure out how to replace an employee that ACTUALLY does their job along with the one that doesnt!!!

I feel great having let that all out via text but im still struggling so fucking much. I just want to go home and sleep. And that's bad. I know I have things to do but I can't muster the energy because I'm using it all to fake normal through my work day. This isn't living. And I want to escape. All my old vices are begging me to come home. How do you tell your loved ones you're struggling when it's like they don't hear the words as they leave your mouth?

Genuinely. I feel like my mental health won't be taken seriously until I break. Why do I have to break first?

Buy a multivitamin, use the therapy light, keep on keeping on because everyone's fight is just as bad as mine. I'm just stuck in the dumps about it.

Do I need a friend? Or will they turn me into their shoulder to cry on when I ask if they'll be mine?

Editing to add other things on my mind that I'm only irritated about when I'm already feeling low:

Its been probably a month now since I paid someone for something I still haven't recieved? Like I understand life gets in the way and external circumstances, but telling me twice that I'll be getting tracking the next day and both times I've not gotten tracking? Atp just ask if I want my money back, honestly willing to cut my losses because the person I paid has gifted me shit for the same amount I'm currently out, I'm just feeling awkward and having trauma triggered because I've already asked what's up twice. And I'm pretty sure my reply from last time is still unopened and unread. :/

On the same topic, different person I paid, commissioned some art and it's also been multiple months with no updates. I reached out to their business page thinking it was something on my end I forgot to get to, yeah they have also not checked their business page. Again, I respect life happens. But a little communication would be DIVINE. Another situation where I will most likely be cutting my losses because I have learned not to spend/give more money than you're willing to lose. But im still irritated about it.

[cruzctrl]

So, i've been gone for quite sometime. And alot has happened, it being me becoming director of respiratory at my facility, hating every minute of it, stepping down after 5 months, and picking up a full time job at a former facility. There were quite a few things that made me step down- actually alot of things:

1. Short staffing

The issue with short staffing and trying to approve peoples vacation times was a nightmare. I catered to these people thinking yeah its gonna be fine. Ill figure something out. Then when i get call ins, no one is willing to work. Im not about to run 20 hours working at this place when 8 hours is already dreadful. And guess what, i still did it. I tried. But the consistency of how bad no one wanted to work was more than enough of a problem for me to step down. And i low key hated people to begin with and it didnt make the job any easier.

2. Supply shortage

This was probably the worst one. Id do my daily tuesday routines of ordering supplies, and yet i seem to never get the main supplies i need. Trachs. Bacteria filters for suction machines. Pulse oximeter probes and cables. And its out of my control. I get it. Ever since covid cane around it hasnt been any easier for anyone. But again, being blamed for something i cant control was already daunting and i hated

3. Inheriting a staff i've worked with for 7 years

It sucked. They know my work ethic. And they see me as one of them. Not as a supervisor. Only when they need my signature to sign off on their overtime. Or their vacations. Or their bullshit sick days. And when i needed the help only a few were able to pull through. The fact that im somewhat salty about this whole situation makes me think: what could i have done differently? Why dont they look at me as someone who can take over a department? But then again. It is what it is. The lack of respect was already more than enough for me to leave. Aside from that, another guy who didnt even work more than 8 days a month became the director and they seem to give him more respect than me. But, like i said i could of done things differently, but i wouldnt know what to do anyways ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

4. Taking work home

This was one thing i told myself- never take work home. Thats what i did. I took work home. I think about when the next time im gonna have to come in to cover a shift, why no one responds to my group me texts, or whatever shit that i needed to come in for. The stress and anxiety of coming home really fucked up my sleep. So bad to the point where id stay up super late just to enjoy what little time i had to myself. Thats bad on my part and probably affected me to the point where i dreaded work.

BUT

Ill admit, i low key miss goin to work whenever i want, but i dont miss goin to work when i shouldnt even be there. The amount of stress that has been lifted from my shoulders is so nice, i forgot how it was to just go to work, get things done, and leave with no worry about anything more or less. Im pretty content with what happened, how i did, and i appreciate the few support of people who really had my back. Funny thing is, they didnt even decrease my pay rate, so although i stepped down as director, im still getting director pay! I guess if theres a way to cheat the system, that was definitely it.

So, in hindsight, Im on call / per diem at my old facility, and got hired as full time at.. another old facility. BUT my pay has definitely increased in both places. Ever since i left, everything has looked alot brighter. i bought a new car, im back to working noc shift again, im happier as a whole, and i just think everything that ive dealt with was a lesson and that not all things at the top is so mint. The new guys i met at work seem pretty chill, and we have a few hobbies that we have in common so it was really easy to get a long with them. Plus i think this whole subacute dept as a whole is just good for myself and patient care. Its really nice to be able to go back to work and feel like im making a difference with what i do. I couldnt help but feel useless as a director. I guess one of the perks is the amount of overtime im gettin here, it is so absurd that im probably gonna be making more than my other places i worked at. Anyways, im happy and thats all that really matters. Ill probably post some pics of my new whip soon, just gotta find the time to take some decent pics. Hope you guys have been well, and this was just me ranting.

[80s4life]

The Thought Of Losing You

Word Count: 2,507

Status: Not Requested!

Fandom: Lethal Weapon 1987 {1}

A/N: This follows sort of around the ending of the first Lethal Weapon film where both Riggs, Murtaugh, and Rianne were being tortured in separate ways. I know it sounds brutal, but trust me, it isn't that bad. AND! Happy ending! (Spent all night on this!)

Relationship: Martin Riggs x Reader

Summary: When a team is formed, Roger Murtaugh and Martin Riggs are solidified together once Y/N is added to the mix, squeezing in perfectly. Although very fiery and stubborn at heart, childish games and teasing became common place for sergeant Y/N and Martin, unable to let the other out-trash their own trash talk. But, when there is a complication during the final breakthrough of the whereabouts of the heroin-trafficking cartel, Y/N is separated from the duo. Only coming together when a kidnapping sends her in a desperate spiral trying to save the people she loves, especially Riggs.

Warnings: violent themes, kidnap, manipulation, torture, violence, language, attempted!self-surrender/suicide, 18+ audience suggested, read at own risk

Masterlist Lethal Weapon Masterlist

Prompts: #67, #68, #100 (from this list @palettes-and-prompts) & #6, #8, #17 (from this list @waiting-for-motivation)

{I do not own any of the prompts, credits to original owners above, nor do I own the gif below -> @leofromthedark}

Strolling around to the back of the supposed drug dealer's extravagant condo, Murtaugh, Riggs, and I engage in light conversation, silently noting and observing our surroundings. Stopping just near the edge of the rather expensive-looking below ground pool, Murtaugh and Riggs catch sight of two brunette women inside. Rolling my eyes, I expect Riggs to do something flirtatious, a painstakingly common reaction to almost every woman he lays eyes on. Every woman... except me. Yet, I pay no mind, Riggs' crazy nature probably too much for me to handle anyway.

Murtaugh flashes his gun, indicating to the women that he is armed. In a flash of a second, just merely after he had shown his weapon, the women duck and run from within the glass-paned wall, just in time for a man to blast a shot from behind. More specifically, the source being a shed occupying the space on the opposite side of the pool we resided on, destroying bits of its siding from the sheer distance and voracity of his attempt of subduing at least one of us.

But, we came prepared, although we were slightly taken aback, Murtaugh's swift abilities with a gun coming in handy as he lands on the drug dealer's right knee, lower thigh area. Splitting off, Murtaugh and I take either end of the pool's side, desperately trying to corral the person of interest. All the while as Riggs takes the women from in the house outside and to the nearest tree, in case of them being suspects as well, handcuffing their wrists together around the tree.

Once the task is done, Riggs hurries over to our aid, following our one, sole purpose: keeping the suspect alive for questioning.

Coming around the perimeter of the pool, Murtaugh reminds Riggs of this rule, replaying it to refresh his sometimes questionable mind. This, however, does not work in our favor as the man pulls yet another gun, this time a pistol, as Riggs had went to pull the man up.

"He's got a gun!" I scream, yet it's all in vain, as Riggs tries to act just as fast as his reflexes would've allowed, lifting the man's aimed arm as the trigger was pulled.

Yelping in surprise, I clench my teeth as the copper red liquid instantly encompasses the injured area, jerking as far away from the incident as possible.

"Y/N!" Murtaugh yells, instantly coming to my side as I go crashing to the concrete floor, catching my head and my left side as I now slowly lean into the ground below me, clutching the stinging injury to the right of my abdomen.

As Murtaugh had come to my side, Riggs took care of the suspect, unfortunately not being able to accomplish our sole purpose of being here, but overall getting rid of the threat.

"Cocksucker," he all but grunts, as he makes sure to shoot the man once more, pissed at the fact that I had gotten shot, although that fact being unbeknownst to me. "I'll call the ambulance," he all put spits out some time later, not making any attempt to check on my well being nor even making eye contact, stalking back through the side gate we had entered through.

//Some time later//

Now nestled safely and securely, I lay within the gloomy walls of the hospital, hooked up with some anesthetics and monitors, all for separate purposes. The stitches surely going to leave an awesome scar, only adding to my aggravation and exhaustion as the day finally settles and the slightest of movements constantly sending sharp pains within my whole body.

The doctors, coming in every so often, had reassured me of a discharge after the course of at least 2-4 days, only needing to ensure the proper sanitary measures are used and stitches being durable and strong without issues or tears.

Staring off at one of the four blank and colorless walls, in a daze, my ears perk up at the sound of a knock on my door, followed by Roger and Martin entering the room.

Handing me a bouquet of flowers and a box of chocolates, I smile at Roger as he pulls a chair beside my bed, asking, "How ya' feeling, Shortie? How're they treatin' ya' here?"

Giggling at the nickname, I respond with an, "I'm doing just as good as I can I guess. It's not so bad here either. The nurses are nice, although they're all pitiful glances and meek gestures, coming in and out as quickly as possible. I guess bullet wounds aren't their preferred cases?" I joke lightly, trying to lighten the tension in the room.

Roger catches on instantly, having caught wind on Martin's rather uncharacteristically quiet sulking in the far corner of the room. Turning to look at him briefly, he all but shrugs at me as he comes up with no response or solution to his partner's unknown issue.

Checking the time, I make up an excuse, assuming Riggs just didn't want to be here maybe? "Damn, look at the time...It's almost 9 pm guys, don't wanna be late for Trish's cooking do ya'?"

"Shit, really? Come on Riggs, you know the ass whoopin' I'm gonna get? Let's go, minus well feed you too, huh?" Murtaugh says, getting his coat and squeezing my shoulder, giving me a sympathetic look that I swipe away quickly. Riggs just gets up, side-eyeing me once quickly, but above all, ignores my presence and leaves the room. With one final look from Rog, he shuts the door, leaving me to my boredom for the remainder of my stay.

//Some time later//

Having been discharged, Roger had caught me up on the recent news, and how they had left to finish the job a day before I had gotten out of the hospital, that being yesterday evening, and it now being a full 24 hours of no communication from them.

This had struck me as odd, given that they were very advanced in their fields. Finding the whereabouts was the last big hump of every mission, the rest supposedly coming easy. This had all changed as soon as I had stepped foot onto my front porch, a not left hanging slightly within the pocket of my mailbox.

The words shocking me to the core;

"Come to xxxxxxxxxx if you want to save your partners. 8 o'clock. Sharp."

Rushing to my car, I waste no time, pulling out of the driveway and to the given destination, the time being almost too close to the deadline as I preferred it to be.

Once outside of the destination, an old, run-down warehouse stands gloomily in front of me as I slip my gun into the waistband of my jeans. Another, tucked against my ankle within my boots.

I move quietly, staying alert as I enter the warehouse quietly, instantly hit with the cries of what could only belong to Riggs, my heart wrenching. A new feeling that I instantly push aside. Following the pained screams, inching closer to the source, I catch wind of yet another's set of booming cries as well, recognizing it as Murtaugh.

With this new set of knowledge, my heart does another painful flip, as the sheer terror now courses through my veins as if it was my blood. They were the toughest men I had ever known. At least that is how I had always felt, how I feel right now, but with their pained screams, it makes me feel utterly hopeless.

Drawing my gun, I aim it before me, right beside the wall I hide on, lining it up around the corner, my full intention at being able to at least shoot down one of the three men guarding one of my teammates; their identity unknown to me at the moment with the unfortunate dimness.

Taking the shot, I hit one man, the two now swinging to guard the area, looking my direction. The man held captured, Riggs, tied to the ceiling, consistently doused in water, making the homemade shock therapy increasingly unbearable with multiple relentless blows.

"Come out now, Little Rabbit, or I pull the trigger," a booming voice commands, me now peeking out from the corner to see none other than Mr. Joshua, the man we've been after, pressing a firm gun to Riggs' limp form.

Coming out from my hiding space, Joshua motions for his goons to grab me, now taking Riggs off the hook, and into another room. The room we are led to happens to be the room Murtaugh is in, his daughter beside him, both incarcerated and handcuffed. Moving Riggs to the chair beside the pair, he is tied down just as I am, the four of us now completely helpless.

Mr. Joshua, confident and prideful of his work, moves Riggs to the center of the room, starting his interrogation, answering with beatings and threats here and there. The cause: the information given by Hunsaker on his heroin-trafficking cartel.

Just as Joshua leaves yet another powerful blow, Riggs' strength starts to run low, just watching him making me squirm in my chair, wanting nothing but to take him in my arms and drag him as far away from here as possible.

"If you have to kill one of us, kill me. Take me instead, please? Just stop! Stop all of this now," I say breathlessly, doing anything in my will to get their hands off of Riggs.

"What would I want with someone as pathetic as you?" Mr. Joshua answers bitterly.

"Information. That's all you want right? You just want details about the business, you went through all this trouble, and for what? Just to kill us in the end? I know your type. You can't get off without getting what you want, and this would've all gone to waste without it," I respond, determined now.

"So, what do you want? To strike a deal?" I nod. "So, if I let them go, you'll give me what I want?" I nod again.

"Y/N no," Riggs says, now worried about what you're going up against.

"Shut it," Joshua states strictly.

"Y/N, listen to Riggs! You can't do this!" Murtaugh adds, now borderline terrified as everyone in this room is filled with the most important people in his life, all threatened with the only thing that could take them all away: death.

"SHUT IT!" Joshua all but screams now. "Fine. I'll take you up on your little deal. However, you fuck with me, I'm killing them."

"I don't agree with you unless you cut them loose right now, and I am assured that they are out of this building," I say confidently, yet shaking with fear.

He nods his agreement, showing a security camera view from one of his computers, watching as Rianne, Roger, and Martin are all led back outside, handcuffs removed, and all moved into my car, them pulling away from the warehouse.

Pulling the computer's view away from me now, he turns to me sharply, my gaze turning upward as my arms are still strapped behind my back, behind the chair. "Now," he starts, the voice strict like a parent beginning to question a toddler, "The information. What did Hunsaker tell you?"

Taking a breath in through my nose, I exhale through my mouth as I ponder my response, "Just as much as he's told you."

With this, Mr. Joshua lets out a scream, landing a punch to the jaw, my body leaning in on the stitches. Taking notice to my sharp intake of breath from the movement, Joshua uses that to his advantage, grabbing a knife, lifting my shirt, and pressing the cool metal along the line of handiwork. The only thing keeping my skin together at the moment.

"Let's try this again, what information did you receive from Hunsaker?"

"I told you. I. Don't. Know."

"Bullshit!" He digs into the skin, smirking at the cry of agony and shaking engulf my body.

"I-I don't know anymore than you do! Please! He was killed before we got anything from him!"

"Bullshit," he answers playfully now, dragging the blade of the knife wherever he pleases now, enjoying my pleads.

As he opens up my stitched bullet wound, he goes to start at another spot, the attempt being short-lived as a bullet wound of his own goes through his skull, the source standing in the doorway alongside Murtaugh with Rianne tucked under her father's arm.

Crying now, I sigh in relief as Riggs rushes to me, cutting me loose and lifting my limp body. Carrying me to the car, we make our way to the hospital once more.

During the wait and multiple switching of rooms, Riggs stays, waiting for me, only getting up once I emerge from the exit, patched up and clean. He smirks at me, wrapping his arm around my shoulders, leading me to Rog's car, taking us to the only place we find comfort; his house.

//Some time later//

Getting settled in at the Murtaugh residence, Riggs and I share Rianne's room, which was so generously offered as one of the youngest decide to have a sleepover with her.

Looking over at Riggs, he looks at me, covered in open cuts and bruises, dirt and grime, and, taking a first aid kit from Rianne's desk, I make it my priority to get them fixed up.

"What are you doing?" Riggs asks, tiredly amused.

"Taking care of you, it's the least I can do," I reply determined once again.

"Awww! Someone's got a little crush on me huh?"

"Hey! When I finish patching you up, I swear to God I'm gonna kick your ass for making me worry about you," I say jokingly. Riggs replying by grabbing me by the waist and pulling me closer.

Locking eyes on one another now, I couldn't help but joke once more, adding a sly, "Is this the moment that we kiss?"

Giggling, he looks down, placing his head on my chest, murmuring, "I think I'm in love with you and I don't know what to do. I mean, I've been married before, and I- I lost her and I don't wanna lose you too- I couldn't live if you go too, I-"

Grabbing his chin, I tilt his head upwards to meet my gaze, "Look at me, Riggs. Look at me. I love you."

Eyes watering, he leans in for a kiss, my hands finding way to his hair, while his pull my hips into his lap, wrapping lightly around them. After leaning back for air, we giggle once more, leaning our foreheads against one another.

"I never want to ever feel the fear of the thought of losing you again, okay? So don't be a dumbass, Dumbass."

"Yeah, yeah," Riggs answers once more, leaning in for another kiss.

[softyoongiionly]

BlackHeart Bakery

Who says Halloween can’t be romantic?

Pairing: Emo! Jungkook x Reader

Word Count: 3.7k

Genre: fluff

A/N: HI OMG IM SO SORRY THIS IS LATE. I love you, I hope you like it. I’m sorry it isn’t longer but, I still can’t wait for you to read it.

-you never imagined that the quirky lil bakery down the street from your university would change your life  

-But it did

-“Omg shut up, you’re so dumb.”

-“Rawr xD”

-“Did you just say rawr xD out loud??? That totally defeats the purpose of its existence...”

-“Don’t cite the deep magic to me witch, I was there when it was written.”

-“And now you’re quoting the chronicles of narnia- alright just go back to sleep you big dummy...”

-“Mmm but you married a big dummy so what does that say about you”

-“Jungkook don't spoil it oh my god!”

-“Like they don’t know what’s coming already- spoiler alert losers! I get the girl.”

-“I hate you...”

-“Mm yeah- I love it when you talk dirty to me baby. The last time you said that- we ended up fuc-“

-“Ok! That’s enough! Our story begins...”

-Jungkook’s bakery was quite famous around your city

-If people didn’t come for the gaudy Halloween decorations  

-They came for the music  

-Exclusively pop punk, if you’re wondering

-It was like 2009 everyday  

-Which was comforting, considering the world has gotten a little

-Tricky

-Since then

-But anyways

-If they didn’t come for the music or the decorations

-They came for the AMAZING espresso  

-And the spooky themed treats

-But if you’re being honest

-You think the main thing that keeps them coming back

-Is Jungkook  

-If his sweeping black hair didn’t get you

-Or the adorable cheeky twinkle in his eyes

-It was the tattoos and the piercings  

-He looked like he walked right off of a black veil brides music video set  

-He was hot

-This was obvious

-But he didn’t seem to think so

-You had come to the conclusion that he was oblivious  

-he shoved his feet into his big black doc martens every morning  

-Slipped on his beaded bracelets and studded chokers

-Pulled his fall out boy t-shirt over his

-Massive

-Tattooed

-Biceps

-And just thought hm

-I’m pretty average I guess (lol)

-That’s a direct quote from him btw

-Men truly are hopeless

-Jungkook opened the bakery two years ago

-He had mentioned to you that he had saved up money from his 3 part time jobs to put a down payment on the building  

-Which was wedged between a sex shop

-And a thrift store

-And honestly his bakery

-Blackheart Bakery, if you’re being specific  

-Fits right in

-Jungkook refuses to hire new staff

-“They won’t do it right.” He whined to you one day

-“One time I tried to hire this guy and he put the sugared googly eyes on the cookie skeletons ALL WRONG”

-“How do you put googly eyes on wrong?” You had giggled

-“you just do- i- See? This is exactly why I can’t hire anyone...”

-You had started chewing on the end of your pencil in the midst of your laughter

-It was an unconscious habit

-And it makes Jungkook shift uncomfortably, his hands moving off of the top of your table

-“Don’t do that...” he had muttered, smirking to himself as he walked back behind the counter  

-he did that a lot

-He’d mutter something  

-Mildly flirtatious under his breath and then  

-Just walk away

-It was quite confusing

-But honestly you had a feeling he was just a filrty person  

-You certainly weren’t the only girl he smirked at

-Not that you pay attention

-Ok  

-Maybe you do  

-Kinda  

-Pay attention  

-but it’s not your fault!!!!  

-You just  

-Can’t help but feel a little jealous

-You kiiiiiinda have a little thing for him

-Ok

-Maybe it’s a big thing  

-Maybe it’s a massive

-Gigantic

-Towering  

-Crush  

-But look at him!!!

-You simply couldn’t be blamed

-It was his fault  

-Yep

-That’s what you’re going with

-It was Jungkook

-And his tight t shirts

-His ripped jeans

-His dangly earrings

-His tattoos

-His big

-Stupid boots

-Ugh ok

-Focus  

-You have work to do

-The whole reason you began coming to Jungkook's cafe was so you -could find a consistent place to study for your exams

-You were in school to become a teacher :)  

-And teachers have to study very very hard  

-Educating the youth is no easy feat  

-Jungkook had asked what you were studying during the first week you arrived at his spooky house of baked goods

-“Oh I’m an education major”

-“Ahh so you’re getting an education about...education.” He concludes

-“I love it.”

-“So meta.”

-“Are they educating you on the disparities between impoverished children and wealthier children?”

-His wide eyes were brimming with genuine curiosity  

-You kind of got a kick out of how candid he was about such heavy conversation topics

-“Not as much as they should be but, I’m actually writing a paper on a similar topic right now...”

-This caused a brilliant grin to come over his face

-It was almost blinding really

-And it made your heartbeat all wonky  

-“Of course you are. You look smart like that...”

-He had backed away from your table then, seemingly satisfied

-Had you passed the vibe check?

-“I’ll leave you to your paper.” He nodded to your laptop but as he walked away, he pivoted back towards you on and the heel of his combat boot, “welcome to Blackheart Bakery by the way, let me know if I can get you anything.”

-Another brilliant smile is sent your way  

-“Thank you.” You had smiled back, sending a tiny wave his way

-Which in turn, made HIS heartbeat all wonky  

-You’re cute

-Like really cute

-And despite how often it may seem like his eyes are elsewhere

-They are ALWAYS on you

-Every chance he gets he is glancing your way

-Smirking to himself at how endearing you are

-Brow furrowed

-Lips pouted in concentration  

-Completely oblivious to his gaze

-He has to remind himself to look away  

-He doesn’t want to be a creep

-“Creepy men deserved to get kicked in the teeth...”

-He’s said this to you before when another patron had made you uncomfortable

-Jungkook kicked him out immediately  

-“If you don’t leave, I’ll have no choice but to kick you in the teeth. One, because I can’t compromise my personal philosophy and two because you’re making my favorite customer uncomfortable.”

-Oh look there goes your heartbeat again

-WONKY

-The guy leaves in an angry rush, flipping Jungkook off in the process

-Saying something about leaving a bad Yelp review  

-He doesn’t care tho

-He definitely doesn’t want to be a creep

-You’re just so  

-Pretty

-Ugh

-He rolls his eyes at himself behind the espresso bar

-The latte in front of him neglected  

-In need of a bit of foam

-“Focus Jeon, she’s just a chick...”

No wait

-“She’s just a woman. A woman who I respect, like I respect all women...”

-He’s been watching a lot of feminist theory on YouTube

-He likes staying educated  

-And also fuck the patriarchy

-The man waiting for his drink has arched a brow at this point, wondering if his barista has lost his mind

-“Uhhh medium...” he checks the cup for his awful hand writing, “ghostly toasted marshmallow latte!”

-“Thanks.” The guy mutters, throwing a judging look Jungkook's way  

-He gives him a lazy salute as the guy struts away with a briefcase in tow

-“Thaaanks.” Jungkook mocks him, his face scrunching up in annoyance  

-Stupid man

-With his stupid briefcase  

-As Jungkook is pulling out a batch of cream cheese frosting stuffed pumpkin muffins  

-Or as Jungkook calls them

-PUNK-in Muffins

-Movement at the counter catches his eye

-is that

-”oh shit...” He grunts, hastily wiping his hands on his apron and rushing over to the counter

-normally he would meander

-stroll

-or even slump to greet any new guests at this hour

-and by this hour

-he means 45 minutes before closing

-Jungkook’s bakery is open til midnight on weeknights

-9pm on Sundays

-and 3am on Saturdays (for the culture of course, gotta keep it spooky)

-tonight happens to be a Friday night and the person awaiting his assistance is

-you

-”You’re still here?” He gawks, the black polish on his nails glimmering as he punches in a few keys on the register

-You offer him a tired and slightly amused smile, “No. Y/N died around 4:30, you’re speaking to her ghost. Please leave your message after the tone.”

-Jungkook cracks a smile, his palms resting on flat on the counter, “Do ghosts check their voicemails?”

-“Oh of course not but, I will be checking yours because you have access to caffeine.”

-Jungkook laughs

-no...he giggles  

-and it’s fucking cute

-but you digress

-“I feel like I should cut you off...this is your 4th latte; I’m pretty sure you’re 80% caffeine at this point...”

-“Noooo, don’t do that.” You whine slumping against the counter, “I just need to finish this one page...”

-He quirks a brow as he scribbles something on your cup, unimpressed with your statement, “You said that three hours ago. I’ll make you another one but I’m not putting an extra shot in.”

-Your face turns up in protest but he click his tongue against his teeth , shaking a manicured finger at you

-“Ah ah- nope. I don’t want to hear it. You either take that or I’m making you a hot chocolate and shutting the buildings power off.”

-With a dramatic sigh, you concede

-“Ugh fine. Here-” You go to hand him your debit card but he shakes his head

-“Put that away.”

-You want to protest but given the fact that he’s made the rules thus far during this interaction, you doubt you’d be able to stop him.

-A smile appears on your face then, appreciative of his generosity

-“Thank you.”

-He merely grins, waving you off before rolling up the sleeves of his black Blink 182 shirt

-as soon as his tattoos are out

-all the moisture leaves your mouth

-you try your hardest not to stare at him

-expertly, he eases the espresso shots into the milk, tongue poking between his lips in concentration

-and you

-being sleep-deprived

-and a little loopy

-decide to  

-flirt????????

-if you could even call it that

-which you could but you shouldn’t

-“For the record, when I finally dig my way out of this of mountain of death I’m stuck in, I will definitely take you up on that hot chocolate...”

-Jungkook’s brow quirks at the tone of your voice, his hands suddenly itching with nerves

-was that

-was that flirty?

-should he flirt back?

-“My hot chocolate is legendary. You won’t be disappointed.” His lips display a small grin as he places the lid atop your finished latte, “Also mountain of death is a great name and I WILL be stealing it.”

-You giggle

-again

-“and I WILL be suing you for copyright.”

-He laughs now, wiping up the bit of milk he spilled

-the sinewy muscles in his forearm tensing and untensing

“Good luck getting me to show up to court.”

-and that’s kinda how it was between you and Jungkook

-for like six months

-it was a little bit flirty but never anything to push either over you over the edge.

-and speaking of being on edge

-recently, you had gone from vacationing in your timeshare on the edge

-to signing a 35 year mortgage contract  

-4 bedrooms

-2.5 bathrooms

-of pure

-unrelenting

-stress

-you could feel it in the middle of your back

-shoving itself up between your shoulder blades

-your body seemed to ache with it

-the worst part being

-it was Halloween

-You should be out with your friends, having fun

-wearing itchy costumes and drinking sugary drinks

-but instead, your headed towards the bakery to work

-Jungkook was behind the counter, smiling happily at a family dressed like the cast of scooby doo

-from what you could see he was wearing a skeleton onesie

-his jet black hair tousled perfectly above his head

-he looked adorable

-(and hot)

-He notices you instantly, his face turning up in surprise

-you offer up a small wave and head over to your table

-you know he’s going to say something about you being there but

-you don’t really have much of a choice

-this work has to be done

-it takes him a second to spot you but when he does

-he seems to perk up

-his smile brightening as he looks back towards his customer

-as you’re setting everything up, you feel a presence (not the spooky kind) at the end of your table

-it’s Jungkook and he has your regular order in one hand, along with something wrapped in skeleton-patterned parchment paper

-“I know, I know.” You acknowledge before he’s even able to chide you for being here

-He smirks “What are you doing studying on the holiest day of the year??”

-You giggle

-“The holiest day of the year huh?”

-“Of course. Halloween is the one night a year that the homies can dress like total -sluts and no one can say anything about it.”

-This makes you giggle again

-“And you went with slutty skeleton huh? I love it- it’s like as naked as you can possibly get.”

-He chuckles, gesturing to his costume

-His floppy black hair getting in his face

-“Damn right baby.”

-The way he grins tells you the pet name is a joke

-But the deepening of his voice gets to you anyway

-“Thank you for this. I promise I’ll get out of your hair early tonight.”

-“The only thing I’m worried about getting out of my hair is this white spray paint. You’re welcome to stay as long as you want.”

-He’s put a streak of white spray paint in his raven locks

-Why? You’re not certain

-Does it look good on him, like everything else does?

-Absolutely

-Its been a few hours since your night of studying began

-Jungkook’s dropped off two free lattes since you’ve arrived  

-As well as a slice of his ‘I write cinnamon not tragedies’ bread

-Which was equally hilarious and delicious

-You caught him glancing over at your table a few times but you didn’t think anything of it

-He’s probably just checking to make sure that no one needs your table

-His bakery is packed most nights but Halloween is a special night at Blackheart Bakery

-He has a trick or treat counter set up with free (homemade) candy

-A photo op complete with a fake haunted house backdrop

-A Halloween playlist

-And a bunch of discounts on his signature lattes and food

-you watch him amongst the chaos

-He is completely unfazed

-He seems elated at the amount of customers he has

-he grins and laughs at something a man dressed like Thor says at his counter

-he seems entirely in his element

-you realize that the denial tactics you’ve been trying out haven’t been working

-because this floppy haired, tattooed, slutty skeleton/baker kind of has a hold on your heart

-you’ve been friends for a long time now

-he always makes sure you’re taken care of

-he always asks if you’re ok

-he always gives you this little grin

-it feels like a secret sometimes

-but maybe it’s been his way of letting you know where he stands

-he’s been bringing you lattes and pastries for months now

-he never charges you full-price

-he always reminds you not to work too hard

-he

-fuck

-he likes you doesn’t he?

-you look back over at the counter to see him bending over and handing a skeleton cookie to a little girl dressed like Captain Marvel

-he laughs at something she says

-his eyes focused entirely on her and whatever she seems to be proclaiming to him  

-your heart goes wonky again

-alright

-enough is enough

-you’re doing this  

-Jungkook’s done so much of the work thus far

-it’s time for you to seal the deal

-and if he rejects you, well…

-you can just crawl into a hole and never come out again

-easy peasy

-You can feel his eyes on you as you get up to take your place in line

-luckily there isn’t anyone else behind you

-rejection with an audience would certainly be worse

-Jungkook has his witty comment ready for you as you approach the register

-“I know for a fact you haven’t finished your third latte and I’m not making you another one until-“

-“I’m not here for another latte.” You laugh, trying to ignore the thrashing of your heartbeat

-“No? Well, are you finally going to try my Welcome to the Blackened Chicken Parade Burger then? I’ve been asking you for like three weeks…”

-god he’s fucking cute

-“I’m here to ask you out.”

-Jungkook swears he feels his heart stop

-“You’re here to…”

-He repeats the first part of your response as his he didn’t hear you

-his black fingernails anxiously tapping against the countertop

-“I’m here to ask you out- on a date.”

-Jungkooks face seems to go through various stages of confusion before a shy smirk presents itself on his pretty mouth

-“Me? You’re asking me-“ He places a hand on his chest, “-out on a date?”

-“Yes!” You laugh, slapping the counter a bit too hard, your nerves getting the best of you, “Are you down?”

-He shakes his head but his answer contradicts his movements

-“So down, beyond down. There is no one on Earth who is more DOWN than I am. Yes. My answer is yes. 50000% yes.”

-you can’t help the smile on your lips

-“great. So are you free next Friday then?”

-He grins with his teeth this time, nodding emphatically  

-“Consider the shop closed.”

-and so it was

-you returned to your table moments later  

-feeling on top of the world

-you did it

-you asked Jungkook out

-and he said yes

-and now you

-NOW YOU HAVE A DATE WITH JUNGKOOK

-LOOK AT YOU GO

-TAKING CHARGE

-you try your best to engage with your studies but with Jungkook on your mind

-its really hard

-roughly two hours later, things at the bakery have finally started to slow down

-“Hey uh- Y/N?”

-Jungkook's voice that pulls you out of your studying trance

-he’s standing at the entrance of his back room, waving you over with his hand

-and who are you to deny him?

-you make your way over there, annoyed at the instant increase in your heartrate

-he stands awkwardly to the side and gestures to the boxes on the metal rack

-“I just remembered that I’ve never given you a tour of the place. I give all my regulars a tour of the stockroom and my office and uh-”

-he cuts himself off and clumsily cups your cheek

-he pulls you into a kiss

-a really good kiss

-his lips are so warm

-he smells like cinnamon

-you could literally die happy

-The ridiculous nature of his first attempt to kiss you, makes you giggle into his mouth

-you feel him smile, his hands smushing your cheeks together as he pulls away

-“Ok I lied. There is no tour. I’ve just been watching you focus on your computer for the last two hours and you’re just really fucking cute and-”

-this time, it’s you who cuts him off

-“You better give me an actual tour next time. How else am I going to steal your secret recipes?”

-he scoffs in mock offense

-“Ah ha! So that’s the only reason you asked me out huh? Should I be calling you Plankton instead of Y/N? Ew no wait- that would make me Mr. Krabs and he’s a dirty capitalist...”

-You laugh, “Oooh good point. Guess you’ll just have to be Karen, my computer wife.”

-This makes him laugh now and the sound warms your soul

-“I could live with that- I like your last name better anyways.”

-with another kiss, your adventure with the emo baker of your dreams begins

-It may have been Halloween but it sure felt like Christmas to you

[beelspillowpet]

Filthy Otaku - Leviathan x Fem!MC

Another thing I’ve been whipping up for when I hit 100 followers on this account~ I recall seeing a snippet from someone else about degrading Leviathan and I couldn’t help but dive into that topic more here~ I love our little Otaku snake boy so much  ♡

Content Warning!!! Degradation kink, slight edgeplay, generally just being mean, but is still somewhat soft towards the end. MC is a female.

You didn’t need to hustle. Life in the Devildom wasn’t always easy, but one thing that kept you neck deep out of trouble was money. The Avatar of Greed let you in on a little secret; life down here in the Devildom wasn’t too different from life in the human realm. Get a little bit of cash to spend, you’ll have demons dancing in the palm of your hand.

What started as a little joke quickly devolved into a means of getting consistent cash. It was like a little daily piggy bank, spilling its contents for you to keep forever. You somehow never suspected the creepy Otaku to be the real pervert in the family; especially with Asmodeus right there.

After your shower, you felt clean and refreshed. Nothing felt better than pampering your skin after a long day. To get into nice clean clothes, and then crawl into bed to wake up the next day. Or at least whenever Lucifer woke you up. You still weren’t used to the day/night cycle, without a sun to tell you to wake up.

Now, though, you added something new to your shower routines. You slipped into your new pajamas, silky smooth. Asmodeus had wanted a pair like that for a while, and questioned how you got your hands on it. The others did as well. You gave a sly grin, “That’s a secret~” you purr. The secret was the Third Born.

You walked down the hallway in nothing but your robe. After knocking a few times, you opened the door without giving the phrase. You didn't need it. No one else came into his room at these sorts of hours. “Levi,” you say boredly. He sits up from his bed (bathtub, really) and removes his headphones. His face is flushed.

“I’ve got a new pair for ya’,” you smirk, reaching into the pocket of your robe to pull out your underwear. It was a pair you had just taken off before your shower. It only made sense that deprived freaks like Leviathan would be into this sort of thing. Using the underwear of pretty girls to jack off with, sniff, and do whatever else it is weirdos do with them.

Leviathan scrambled from out of the bathtub and over to you. His clammy hands reached for the used pair, before you snatched them away. Your other hand came out, curling the fingers and uncurling them.

“Grimm,” you instruct. “I want cash in hand, before I hand anything over. So go get my grimm.”

Leviathan nods, going back to his bathtub and leaning over it. You stare at him, admittedly a bit turned on by how excited he is to use a new pair of your underwear. He returns with a hand full of grimm, and another hand with your used up underwear from the previous day.

“I figured you might… want them back?” he tries, but doesn’t offer them with the grimm.

“No,” you say scoffed. “I don’t want my used underwear back. That’s disgusting.” he cringes a bit, but takes the new pair in place of his grimm. You step back and look him over once. He’s flushed, a bit out of breath, and very shaky. “You were just jerking off, weren’t you?”

He shamefully nods, not looking you in the eyes. You smirk. This might be your chance to try something out.

“You really are a disgusting otaku freak.” You spat out. He shuddered. “That one was free, by the way.” He lowers his head and steps back towards his bathtub. He had expected you to leave, but you just stood there, confident smirk on your face. “I want to try something.” you say. “I want to watch you sit in that chair,” you point to his gaming chair across the room. “Touch yourself. I want to see how a revolting freak like you gets off.”

He swallowed, his knees weak. He wasn’t sure how much more he could take already. He sat in his chair across the room, sliding down his pants to present his hardened cock. With both pairs of used underwear in his hands, he wrapped the silk fabric around his girth and stroked slowly. He was slow now, giving soft pants every now and then. You were getting bored quickly.

“Yank it already, god dammit. Or are you making love to my fucking panties?” You scowl. You’re almost running across the room now, going through his drawers. You know he’s got a toy or two hidden in here somewhere. If not for- aha. Your eyes land on his bathtub, where you know he keeps his Ruri-Chan body pillow. You pace towards it, reach inside, and pull out the body pillow. His eyes widen in fear, his hand stilling.

“W-what’re you-”

“I wonder if I cut a hole in her face and stick a onahole inside, would that get you off faster?” You muse. “Face-fucking your cute Ruri-Chan pillow for me. I bet you’d thought of doing it before, am I right?”

“N-not to R...Ruri-Chan, no…” he trembles. You raise an eyebrow. He must be lying, but you don’t press on it.

“Have you thought about me?”

The color in his face drains. Bingo.

You drop the body pillow back into the bathtub lazily, creeping towards him. “Stroke yourself, you pathetic bitch.” you sneer. As if he was a fully charged battery, his hand stuttered back to life. It was robotic, as if he were merely following orders. “That’s right. Mm, you’ve thought about it, haven’t you? Fucking me silly in your bathtub. On the floor. Against the wall. You’ve thought of doing horrible things to me, haven’t you, Levi?”

“Yes,” he breathes. “I-I’ve thought of you. Your body, d-doing lewd things t-to you, aah…”

“Tell me.” You cooed, right next to his ear now. “Tell me some of the things you’ve wanted to do to me.” You turned and kissed his temple. He choked on his own spit for a moment, stroking himself harder.

“I-I can’t…” he sobs. “P-please, it’s too embarrassing…”

“Tell me or I’ll never give you another used pair of underwear again.” You threaten. His eyes open and he jolts away from you, staring bewildered. “I mean it, Levi. I can just give my used panties to another sweaty, fat bastard. Someone somehow much less useful that you. But…” his eyes brighten, a distorted smile slowly creeping across his lips. “If you tell me… I might bless you. By taking your virginity for you?” you pout innocently.

He pants, squeezing his cock in his fist. “Re...really?! You’d let me-?”

“I don’t want you to speak another fucking word. Not unless it’s about what you imagine doing to me. Do you understand?”

“F-fucking your thighs…” he starts slow. He licks his lower lips before continuing. “M-making you were thigh highs and pushing c-cock…. Between them.”

“Am I only wearing thigh highs?” Your hands start massaging his shoulders gently. “You like when I touch you, huh? Even if our knuckles brush, it just makes you so hot and bothered doesn’t it?”

Leviathan let out a puffy sigh, stroking himself slower. You eyed his hand as he kept talking. Occasionally butting into his fantasies. Your touches roamed from his chest, to his neck, where you unceremoniously choked him for a few seconds. There was a time where you took to slapping him, and even thought of spitting on him. While you didn’t deny the fact that he would be into it, it still stopped you from going through with it. You weren’t an idiot; if you pissed him off somehow, he would tear you to bits. Maybe fuck you before doing it, though.

You stood up straight, hissing. “Are you edging yourself?” you question. By now he was a shivering mess, barely able to string words together. “Fucking loser. You’re so desperate for pussy. You’re wanting for me to open my legs like a cheap whore for you. You want to fuck me?”

“Y...y-yes… Want to… please you…”

You smirk. “Good boy. You might be worth something after all. Well then? Get up. Now.”

It took him a moment, stumbling out of his seat and on to shaky sea legs. You opened your robe and discarded it on the floor. “By the way,” you start, a smile on your face, a smile in your voice. “You’ll pay for this too, in the morning. Even more if you cum inside. Got that?”

With that, you sit in his chair and slouch. “Get to it then, you worthless sack of shit. Make me feel good. Make your mommy- your master- your precious senpai feel good. You think you can do that? With your pathetic otaku dick, you think you can please me?” You lift your knees up to your chest before opening your thighs slowly, a cocky grin spread across your face. You move down to your pussy and trace circles across your clit. He’s watching, cock in hand, hunched over like an animal.

Just like one, he pounces.

He barely shoves more than half of his cock inside you and you’re clamping down hard on him. You give a choked groan that dies somewhere in the back of your throat when he immediately starts thrusting in. His hips are moving at an uneven, wild pace. He pulls almost all the way out, leaving you empty, trying to suck him back in. Then he bottoms out all in one thrust, making your body spasm.

“Fuck!” You yell, nearly kicking him in the face. “Calm the fuck down!” He leans forward, now hovering over you. “Fucking freak! I said calm down!” he doesn’t listen, too wrapped up in the pleasure of your fresh, wet pussy to do anything else. One of his hands grabs your ankle, the other his supporting him against the chair as he pounds into you. His hips crashing into yours leaving a bruising pain on your ass. His balls slapping against your skin, and his harsh breathing reminds you of a fish out of water, gasping.

You grit your teeth and decide the only thing you can do is hold on and hope he manages to get some sense into him. Hoping was a stupid idea, especially for someone like Leviathan.

“Fucking stupid otaku,” you groan. “This is how you fuck a lady? This is how you treat her? Like a blow up doll?! You’ll never amount to anything. Absolute trash.”

He seems to hear just fine when you’re degrading him, because with each harsh word, his thrusts get harder. He’s practically dragging you against his cock now, pushing and pulling you. His hands find purchase on your hips and he quiets down for a moment, head dipping low. You can feel his clammy fingers tightening their grip before stars burst behind your eyeballs.

“Fuck! God you’re such a slut! Yes!” You’re squeezing down on him, clenching on to the chair for dear life. You were so busy insulting him that your own orgasm literally blindsided you.

There was a distinct growl that came from Leviathan, and he muttered in a dangerous tone. “Came on that cock, huh?” An uneven laugh followed. You could barely form words, still riding out your high while he continued with his frenzied pace. It wasn’t long after before you felt him spilling himself inside you. You contorted at the sensation, but with practiced ease, stilled after, allowing him to finish.

As he slowed down, still riding out his high, he let go of you. He muttered a soft apology as he began to pull out, stepping away. Your legs dropped to the floor and you sighed, content. You could still feel that distinct ache in your fingers from tensing on the chair so fiercely. “Fuck, Levi…” you pant.

“I’m s-sorry…” he stammers. He reaches out to help you stand, and when you get a steady footing under you, you sigh. “Do you need any help?” he asks, picking up your robe off the floor.

“No,” you smile. “I just need another shower is all. Thanks, though.” You didn’t feel like keeping the façade up. You were exhausted after that brutal fucking. You needed a nap.

It’s not like you were always mean to him. It was just strict business, and he didn’t seem to mind it. You treated him nice everywhere else. You never quite understood why he was so into this degradation kink, since he was such a powerful demon. But everyone is into their own thing, you guess.

[has-gilgamesh-doneanythingwrong]

Learning how to use the runes with Caster Cu (FGO)

I spent 6 hrs writing the most shamelessly self-indulgent headcanons ever Here, Caster will teach the FGO master the basics of the runes. Follow the master as they learn a bit about their origins, face rigorous testing, make their own set of runes; and use them for the very first time!

*Disclaimer: These headcanons will focus on the use of the Elder Futhark runes. (In fgo, they use both elder and younger futhark) As I’ve only been researching the Nordic runes for around 9 months, please take these headcanons with a pinch of salt! (also, fgo master will be gender neutral! Please enjoy.)

As soon as you broach the topic to him, Caster Cu’s face pales considerably; as images of Odin hanging upside down on the world tree for 9 days permeate his mind. Hopefully you weren’t asking him if you could do that... you weren't, right?

‘Shit...I knew this day would come.’ Awkwardly lowering his hood over his face (so then he can avoid looking at your expectant expression); Caster sighs. “Ah, yeah...Rune magic. Sure, I’ll teach you later...yeah, later.”

Hoping that his bluff is successful, he tries to dematerialize away as fast as possible. However, once you latch onto his pale blue coat to ask what you should do first, he finally caves in; knowing that there’s no way for him to worm his way out of this perilous situation.

“You know, you could try asking Skadi. Or how about Shishou? There’s a hell of a lot of other servants who know bits and pieces about the runes as well. How about you give ‘em a try first?”

When you admit that you want to learn from him, due to your deep appreciation for his extremely flashy use of the runes; Caster stifles a laugh. Yep, there really was no room for escape now.

“Well, I can’t fault you for that; I do look pretty damn cool in action!” Twirling his staff, Caster strikes a pose. “But I don’t get it. You’re already training in other arts. Why would you wanna load rune magic on top of that? You like drowning yourself in work or something??”

As you excitedly flapped your arms around, explaining how you liked watching him trace sparkling runes with his hands; and wanted to take his tree branch summoning skills for yourself, his eyes widen with surprise. He wasn’t expecting you to be this observant.

“Ah, you mean the Berkana/Berkano (ᛒ) rune? Yeah, that one represents the birch tree, so I can summon it. It also commonly symbolizes new beginnings and fertility...” Caster trails off as your braincells physically implode at his explanation.

Berkana? Birch trees? Fertility?! You had no idea what he was talking about right now. As a dour silence weighs heavily upon the two of you, a lightbulb of inspiration strikes Caster right in the head.

“Oi, master. Read up a little on the runes, and remember at least some of their names first. As your new teacher, that’ll be your first assignment. See ya!” And with that, he was gone, vanishing into thin air. Realizing that he had just agreed to teach you, your face sparkles with glee. Clenching your fists with all of your might, you march towards the library. Time would wait for no man!!!!

Exchanging friendly greetings with Murasaki, as you trundle through an entire emporium of books; it takes hours for you to find a book on the runes. Many of the books were in a language that you couldn’t read, however this one looked rather easy on the eyes.

Titled ‘Easy Rune Magic for Modern Mages’, you flick through a rather simplistic guide that provides you with the names and a single definition for each rune; but it provides you with little to no information on how to truly understand their meaning. With subheadings such as ‘How to use the Fehu (ᚠ) rune to generate wealth to pay for your magecraft PHD at the Clock Tower’ and ‘Is Thurisaz (ᚦ) more effective to use as a defensive spell or curse spell?’ you were officially BAMBOOZLED. Tired, you decide to throw in the towel for today.

However, on your way back to your room, a stroke of excellent luck manifests itself before you. Situated upon a sturdy pine table are none other than Sigurd and Byrnhildr, who are reading together. Although you find this scene to be rather adorable (seeing as they were both entirely intact, with no stabbing wounds to be seen); you decided to interrupt their date anyway.

“O-oh, master...” Byrnhildr blushes, as Sigurd waves politely. “What brings you here today?” Slamming your hands on the table, you passionately declare that you wish to learn more about the runes, but can’t understand them without gaining some insight into their history first. As Brynhildr’s eyes glimmer with a sense of appreciation at your open display of interest of their culture, Sigurd haphazardly pulls out the chair next to them.

“I’m glad to see you profess such a profound interest in the runes, master. Please sit down and join us.” Glasses sparkling ominously, Sigurd explains a little bit more about how the elder futhark runes work. He not only explains how Odin discovered their wisdom after hanging from the world tree Yggdrasil; but also tells you about how Odin shared their power with humankind, making him none other than the ‘Allfather’ of the runes.

At the mention of his name, Byrnhild’s expression sours somewhat; making you realize that the two most likely share personal ties with him.

“They’re a special alphabet that we can use to invoke the power and wisdom of the Norse gods, so be careful with them.”

Sigurd then goes on to explain how all 24 runes are separated into three Aetts- which are basically a means of dividing the runic characters into different categories.

“Each rune comes with a short poem. That way, you’ll be able to understand them and their context a little more.”

Once you thank him for the information, he replies with a “I hope I was of use. I’m very proud of you for asking us for help.”; as Byrnhildr returns with an entire truckload of books tucked within her arms!!!

“These books will be helpful! This one’s about the myths associated with the runes, and this one is a practical guide that’ll help cultivate understanding. As for this one, it explains their etymology.”

Byrnhildr chuckles at your gobsmacked expression, as the two of them heap the books into your own arms. “You don’t need to know everything about them, but it’ll be handy for you to develop a little bit of historical and lexical knowledge as well.”

‘I thought I only had to know their names and descriptions...!!’ Tears pooling within your eyes at the mountain of books, you thank them for their help and leave, as they wish you all the best with your studies (and prayed that one day you’d wish to speak to them in the language as well. They couldn’t wait for that opportunity!)

Sighing all the way back to your room, you gasp in surprise as you bump into none other than Skadi.

“Oh, good timing.” Passing you a bundle of golden-trimmed strips of ancient paper, Skadi smiles vigorously. “You can use these as flash cards for your rune training, as well. I’m surprised that you didn’t ask for my guidance, but that may have been for the best. I would’ve trained you thoroughly in the arts.”

A chill jolts through your spine at that. Who knows just how hard she would’ve trained you? Part of Skadi was Scathach, after all. Thanking her for her assistance, the two of you split paths.

‘I seem to be bumping into a lot of people today...’

Was this a mere coincidence, or perhaps something more?

A busy month full of book reading and writing notes onto your flash cards passes within a blur.

Mash had also shown great interest in your studies, and would help test you with your flashcards every day! However, you were still pretty confused about how long this stage of research would last for.

Whilst reading up on how runes could also be used to predict the future and provide advice for one’s dilemmas; and how the Nornir (3 deities of fate) determined this form of divination, you groan.

All of the people within the books had their own sets of runes, which they would use to communicate with the gods.

In other words, they could be used for divination as well as magic.

‘Why can’t I do that yet?’ You pout indignantly; snapping the book shut.

If Caster wouldn’t teach you rune magic, he could at least teach you about divination! Patience running thin, you decide to leap back into action.

It was time to confront your teacher, once and for all.

However, as soon as you exit your room; you are greeted by none other than Caster himself.

Almost tripping onto the floor with surprise, you gawp in shock at his appearance. With his staff and a mouth-watering cup of Darjeeling tea he had brought from one of Marie’s posthumous tea parties in his hands, Caster smirks. “Yo, master. Looks like I came just on time.”

As the two of you settle in the canteen for class (?), after a bit of small talk; you declare that you want to learn how to use the runes for divination. “If you won’t teach me magic, then I would like to learn how to communicate with the runes first, please!”

At this, he lets out an unusually loud guffaw of laughter. “Ahaha, so you finally worked it out, huh? Before you can use their magic; you gotta understand and communicate with the runes, as well. You’re a faster learner than I thought you’d be.”

Unsure whether this was a compliment or not, you enquire as to what he means by that. “It’s pretty simple: you can’t cast these bad boys without building a relationship with them first. On that note, let’s see how much you’ve learnt from your studies.”

His test is a nightmare.

As he barks the name of each rune from the First Aett (the first eight runes), you are forced to draw each and every one. If you get a rune wrong, he repeats it consistently until you draw the right alphabet for each one.

Afterwards, he takes you through a hellish journey as he asks you to provide at least one definition for each rune.

By the time you are done, night has already swept its veil over Chaldea; the halls devoid of any signs of life.

In other words, the two of you had been at this for the entire evening, which had definitely garnered you both the attention and pity of many staff and servants.

Stomach rumbling, you beg Caster to finish class for today.

“Yeah, sure. Whoops, looks like I got a bit carried away right there.” He has definitely inherited his deadly teaching style from Scathach.

When you ask him if you’re ready for the next bout of training; he frowns. “Nope, that was only the First Aett. You’ll only move to the next stage when you’ve memorized all THREE. In other words, get to learning all 24 runes!!” As you cry in despair, Caster shoots you a mischievous wink as he helps himself to the bar.

The dreaded tests continue on a weekly basis.

Not only do you have to deal with the challenges of the saving the world, helping out your allies and maintaining your own health; you also have to leap into the hellish jaws of rune testing with Caster Cu.

Albeit suffering greatly from the challenge, your spirit was also greatly roused. Learning about the runes was fun!

So much fun, that you’d often dream about them, and see their shapes in the food that you ate; and would even accidentally use their names in conversation sometimes, like saying: “Oh, I’m sure the energy of this rune would help with your headaches,” to a very bewildered Mash; or comparing the sunrise to the runes (which confused Shakespeare and Hans greatly. Actually, they are now worried about your health).

All in all, your studies were starting to take effect!!

It was finally time.

As Caster more or less yelled the name of each rune at you, your response was astounding. Not only were you able to draw the shape of every rune in a matter of seconds, you could also provide multiple readings for all 24 of them.

Eyebrows quirked with surprise, Caster sighs with relief. ‘Phew. Looks like class will be shorter than usual today.’

“Holy shit. You’ve done a damn great job, master. You got them all right!” As you roared with joy, pumping your fists into the air with glee; Caster almost fell off his chair- clutching his sides as he tried (yet failed) not to laugh. “Alright, buckle up. We’re gonna get you a set of runes now.”

A set of runes?! Your eyes sparkled at the prospect of finally being able to have runes of your own. It was about time, as well. You had grown sick of using your flash cards, you wanted the real thing!

However, you were confused about the concept of needing your own set. If Skadi and Caster Cu could manifest them just by using their hands, and magical devices; why would a person need to have a set of them? As you expressed your concern, Caster nods his head in understanding.

“I see your point. But even I have a set of runes, you know? It’s every bit as useful a method.” Unleashing a small, worn-out felt pouch; glimmering gems -whose rune inscriptions were engraved upon them in gold- splashed across the dining table. They were beautiful. “��Sides, there’s something exciting about making your own set.”

Your mind swims with excitement, as he describes the different materials that runes can be made from: bones, metal, gemstones, pebbles, glass, clay...there were endless options.

However, when you asked him if you could use your collection of Evil Bones to make a rune set, he chokes on his coffee- pure horror drenched across his features.

“No way in hell! You trying to get yourself killed? Never invoke the power of the runes on cursed items, master.” 

Then how about using QP or Mana Prisms as a base to inscribe the runes instead? Once you suggested this, his face paled somewhat. “Yeah, about that...don’t even think about it. You need those materials, you know.”

Grumpily threading his hands through blue locks of hair, he sighs. “Look, I’ll help you find some materials. Guess we could rayshift the next time I’m free or something...” As you cheer exuberantly, he can’t help but crack a small smile.

Being a teacher was a lot more amusing than he originally anticipated it to be. There was something fun about departing his knowledge. Besides, he had dedicated himself to becoming the guiding light of Chaldea anyway. ‘A little teaching hurts no-one.’

Using the light of the Soliwo (ᛊ) rune to guide the way, the two of you traverse through a forest heaving with verdant green trees and wildlife.

No matter how many pretty trees and tumbled pebbles you found by the riverside; you weren’t sure if they were the right material for you.

Just when you were about to give up, a powerful jolt of electricity beckons you; almost as if it’s calling your name. As soon as you alert Caster of your instinctual powers, he looks rather flummoxed at first; but is somewhat awed once his Soliwo rune’s light begins to shine in exactly the same direction as the one you’re pointing in!

‘Huh, that sure is weird.’

Things only get weirder, once you both come upon a ginormous slab of Labradorite. Situated neatly upon a bed of leaves. Placed carefully within the middle of the forest.

This timing was too good to be true.

As the electricity coursing through your veins triples in intensity, Caster has to hold you back before you cut loose. “Oi, wait up. Let me test this stone for safety first.”

Placing an Algiz (ᛉ) runestone in your hands to guarantee your protection, he saunters towards the massive hunk of Labradorite.

Chanting an incantation beneath his breath, the forest glows in an eerie blue light; as a pale magic circle glimmers beneath the stone. “Yeah, it’s safe. Pretty strange for it to be out here, though.”

As he sketches Thurisaz (ᚦ) (which not only symbolizes thorns, defense and danger, but can also be used as a means to channel a power akin to Thor’s hammer, mlonjir) onto his staff, he smashes it against the mass of Labradorite; splitting what was once an enormous rock into 24 neatly divided; brilliant blue gems.

Gathering them up, he thrusts them before you. “Here you go. That was a pretty lucky find, if I do say so myself.”

You thank him for your help- making sure to also pay homage to the awesome power of your intuition at the same time, which tickles Caster right in the funny bone.

As soon as the stones drop into your hand; they crackle with an immensely powerful energy, as if these gems were waiting for you!!

As you turn them onto the side; you are gobsmacked to see rune inscriptions already engraved onto each and every stone, as if they were reacting to the mana flowing within your body.

You ask Caster to take a look at this strange phenomenon for you.

“Whoa, are you kidding me? That’s pretty awesome. Let me take a look, too.” As you gently stretch your palms towards Caster- trying to keep the runestones steady in your hands- he gently takes your palms, leaning towards them.

As he catches sight of the engravings lying upon them, his crimson eyes widen with bewilderment. “Holy shit...I think the gods just made you an offering. You’re secretly packing a shitload of power in there, ain’t you? Great job!”

Ruffling your hair, Caster grins. “Think you’ve got time for more teaching?”

As you nod your head, anticipation clear on your features; he plonks onto the ground, handing you a felt pouch. “Put them in there. Try doing your first reading, see what rune speaks to you first!”

Eagerly plonking all 24 runes into the sparkly pouch, you close your eyes and concentrate; beseeching the contact of the gods. Imagining yourself encountering the Nonrnir, as you visualize dropping into the center of the world; you place a hand within your pouch.

Rummaging around the bag, a single rune sends energy rippling through your fingers. That was the one! Pulling it out of the bag, you grin excitedly...only to see that it was none other than...

Nauthiz (ᚾ).

‘Aw shite...’ Disappointed by the rune, you sigh. You wished that your rune could’ve been a more positive one! However, Caster’s reaction was rather different to yours.

“Hey, it’s not as bad as it looks.” Figure illuminated by the sun, he looked much more chill than usual. “Nauthiz is all about your needs, you know? With all the singularities popping up recently, I wouldn’t be surprised if you’re pushing yourself too far.”

“But this rune is basically saying ‘lol you’re suffering’...It’s frustrating.” You counter him.

You knew all too well about the massive strains your body was going through, the transformations you were forced to undergo. Sometimes, it was just too painful for you to bear. Seeing this rune only served as a reminder of that fact.

“How about you look at it from a different perspective? Even though things are way outta wack for you, a small fire still burns. Doesn’t Nauthiz look a bit like two twigs that you’d see in a fire?” Now that was a funny observation. As you smiled at that, he continued. “It just means that no matter how hard things become; all you gotta do is balance your needs and continue to fight. Nauthiz is also screaming ‘oi, damnit! Don’t give up here, you can survive and make it out the other side sparkling like brand new, you hear me??’”

You were very grateful to hear that. Now you realized that even the most ominous of runes also came with signs of fortune and peace.

In other words, they would be there to support you all the way. Thanking him for his great insight, he replies with a simple “Well, I’m the wise one you know? Anyway, you know the saying. Even the coldest of ice thaws someday.”

As you correctly link his adage to the runes, he claps with pride. “Nice, nice. Well, that’ll be all for my teaching. Soon you’ll be able to do readings with nine or more runes!”

But once you yell to him about how you want to use runes such as Kenaz (ᚲ) to fulfil your long-standing desire to set shit on fire; his expression hardens.

“I ain’t teaching you rune magic until you learn how to master rune divination. Don’t push your luck too far~ Come visit me again once you learn how to read the past, present and future with them!” As you indigently complain about how you still want to summon birch trees, and about how difficult it was to learn about the runes; he bursts into rancorous laughter. “That’s not my problem! C’mon, lay off a little...”

Frustrated, you finally give up, asking for one last request. “Caster. What rune will you get if you do a single reading? I would like to see.”

Begrudgingly adhering to your request, he unearths none other than the Ansuz (ᚨ) rune.

“Ah, my favorite. Well, that’s it for today. Let’s go back.” As he turns away, a frightening wind blows through the trees, as a dark shadow drifts over his figure.

In that very moment, he becomes a dark specter within a bountiful forest filled with brilliant light; as his form briefly flickers and shifts, melding into an entire kaleidoscope of distinct beings.

But all it took was a single blink for his form to return back to normal again.

How strange...Was that none other than an illusion? Were your eyes playing tricks with you? Silently trailing behind, you contemplated the meaning behind the rune he had drawn.

Ansuz...It commonly symbolized communication, breath, and chiefly of all...it was the rune that represented none other than Odin himself.

In addition to that, you saw how the rune landed on its side when Caster drew it, and the mysterious glint in his eyes.

Was Caster hiding something? You couldn’t quite put your finger on it.

‘Just who is Caster Cu really?’ Such a thought weighed dangerously heavy within your mind as the two of you took the steep path back home.

By learning more about the runes, you may have unlocked the door to an endless chasm of mysteries; one that had ties directly linking to the deeper truths lying behind Chaldea...

THE END

Omg this was only meant to be like 1,000 words. But I got extremely invested within this concept and was burning with great excitement, which lead to this becoming SUPER LONG XD Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this ;; Also dw learning runes in real life isn’t as hardcore as this, I promise you!

[knuffled]

Just Practice - Chapter 14

here’s the latest chapter! hope you all enjoy it! if you could leave a comment, it would mean the world to me! not that many people commented last chapter sadly. 

ao3 link for people on mobile

Out of all of Annabeth’s friends, Piper undoubtedly had the largest house. It was a beautiful three story house with a modern minimalist aesthetic, but it somehow also managed to retain a homely atmosphere. As an aspiring architect, Annabeth thought that it was a feast for the eyes, but Piper had never liked it, mainly because her father was hardly ever home. That was ideal for someone like Annabeth, but Piper was a huge extrovert so she found it unbearable having such a huge house to herself. Piper did her best to circumvent that by having friends over whenever possible, a role that usually fell on Jason’s shoulders, but Annabeth had dropped by after school instead to work on a partner project that they had been assigned for their history class.

Piper greeted her at the front door, practically half-asleep. She was wearing pajamas that had smiling cartoon cupcakes printed on them, her choppy hair was thoroughly disheveled, and her eyes were dazed and unfocused. Annabeth was particularly amused by the impression left on her face from sleeping with her cheek pressed against the seams of two sofa cushions.

“You look positively glamorous, darling.”

Piper half-heartedly rolled her eyes and led her to the living room. “Shut up, I was doing hot girl shit.”

“I didn’t know napping qualified as ‘hot girl shit’,” Annabeth said, making air quotes.

“There’s a reason they call it beauty sleep, babe,” Piper said.

They stopped at the living room, and the sight there only made Annabeth’s smirk widen. It was a complete mess, strewn about with empty bags of cheetos, bottles of kombucha, and half-empty oreo trays. Annabeth crossed her arms over her chest and gave Piper a significant look, wondering what sort of excuse she would come up with, but Piper just flipped her off and dove belly first onto the sofa.

“Before you ask, I was too busy to clean,” Piper said, voice muffled by a sofa cushion.

“Busy doing hot girl shit?” Annabeth prompted innocently.

Piper turned her head to glower at her. “You’re such a bitch sometimes.”

Annabeth bit back a smile and lifted a half-empty bottle of kombucha from the coffee table. She gave it a ginger sniff and gagged at the fermented smell.

“I don’t know how you can drink this stuff.”

“It’s good for your digestive system,” Piper said, sighing.

“I hate to break it to you, but I don’t think it’ll be enough to offset the fact that your diet consists solely of flaming hot cheetos and oreos.”

“I’m seriously like ten seconds away from kicking you out of my house,” Piper warned.

Annabeth laughed and said, “Alright, alright, I assume that means you’re ready to start working on the project then?”

Piper groaned into the sofa and forced herself to sit upright. “You’re an absolute menace.”

Annabeth rummaged through her backpack for her laptop and the project rubric instead of looking at her. “I love you, too.”

Piper sighed melodramatically and cleared the coffee table of its aforementioned debris so that they had a place to work. They spent nearly two hours researching content for their project, and Annabeth was happy with the amount of work they were able to get done. For all their bickering, she and Piper had always made an excellent team, and this project was no exception. That being said, by the end of the two hour mark, Piper was beginning to burn on fumes.

“God, why on fucking earth did I ever think taking AP Euro my senior year was a good idea,” Piper groaned, burying her face in her hands. “Spring break can’t come soon enough.”

“It’s still over a month away,” Annabeth laughed. “We could take a break if you’d like.”

Piper looked up at her abruptly with wide eyes. “Who are you and what have you done with Annabeth?”

Annabeth rolled her eyes and said, “We got a lot of work done, so it’s fine if we chill a bit.”

Piper pressed a kiss to Annabeth’s cheek before she could react and beamed at her. “Want something to eat? I’m getting hungry.”

Annabeth scowled and rubbed her cheek. “Uh, do you still have Oreos?”

“Of course, I do,” Piper grinned. “I’m not a heathen.”

“Milk?”

Piper pretended to wipe a tear from her eye. “Oh, Annabeth, I am so proud of you.”

“Oh my god, shut up,” Annabeth laughed, shoving her.

Piper danced to the kitchen and came back a short while later with a fresh box of oreos and two glasses of milk. Annabeth’s step-mother was a health nut, so they never had junk food at home. She also had to adhere to a strict-ish diet because she was an athlete, so this was the first time in literal years that Annabeth had had the chance to eat an oreo.

“These are a lot better than I remember,” Annabeth said.

“You’re goddamn right. Oreos are gods gift to humanity,” Piper said.

Annabeth smiled. “Now, I wouldn’t go that far.”

“So ungrateful,” Piper sniffed. “You can get sent to hell for that sort of thing you know?”

“For not being obsessed with oreos?” Annabeth laughed.

“For having bad taste,” Piper said, giving her a significant look.

“Guilty as charged,” Annabeth sighed. “I mean, I’m friends with you after all.”

Piper groaned and shoved her. “Bitch.”

“You started it,” Annabeth laughed. “I was just enjoying my oreos in peace.”

“I have been nothing but a gracious host, and yet you come into my house and insult me and my all time favorite snack for good measure,” Piper said, shaking her head. “This is why whites don’t deserve rights.”

Annabeth raised her glass of milk. “I’ll drink to that.”

“Sometimes, I honestly wonder how Percy puts up with you.”

“Easy, he’s a lot nicer than you, so I don’t feel the need to sass him,” Annabeth said, shrugging.

“Sounds fake, but okay.”

“You’re just in denial,” Annabeth teased.

Piper rolled her eyes and said, “How is he doing by the way? I haven’t talked to him lately, but I know State is around the corner.”

“He’s doing okay, I think,” Annabeth said. “I haven’t really asked him about it.”

“No Valentine’s Day plans, I’m assuming?” Piper asked, wiggling her eyebrows.

“Nah, I don’t want to break his concentration,” Annabeth said, shaking her head. “How about you and Jason? Got a hot date lined up or something?”

“We were just thinking of getting dinner some place nice,” Piper said, shrugging.

“So that means Taco Bell is a no, then?” Annabeth asked, grinning.

“Very funny,” Piper said, narrowing her eyes. “I think we’re going to some Japanese place downtown or something.”

“Hmm, sushi sounds nice.”

Piper shook her head and said, “It’s honestly impressive how you somehow always forget that I’m vegetarian, even after all these years.”

Annabeth’s face turned pink. “Oh, right, sorry.”

Piper knocked elbows with her instead of saying anything and reached for another cookie. Annabeth watched her dunk the cookie in her glass of milk a little too vigorously, causing some of it to spill onto her pajama bottoms, and couldn’t help imagining how Jason would have chided her for it if he had been here. It was still endlessly bemusing to her how two people so diametrically unlike one another had so much romantic chemistry together.

“You ever think about how wild it is that you and Jason have been together for four years now?” Annabeth asked.

Piper laughed and said, “Definitely have a lot more since graduation is coming up soon. It’s pretty insane to me too.”

“What’s your secret, oh wise one,” Annabeth asked teasingly.

Piper rolled her eyes and said, “We just communicate really well, ever since day one. Neither of us hide anything from each other. If we are bothered by something, we talk about it. Sometimes that means we get into fights, but it’s still better than bottling everything up.”

Annabeth’s heart squeezed a little in her chest. In contrast, she and Percy hardly ever spoke openly anymore. The weight of all the things they had both left unsaid had snowballed and taken on a line of its own. She didn’t think it had brewed into bitterness, but it felt like ice on the surface of a pond. Shallow and liable to break at any moment.

“We also just genuinely like each other too,” Piper said. “There’s no way we would have lasted if we hated each other’s guts or got bored of each other. Kind of the opposite honestly. The more I got to know him, the harder I fell for him.”

“How could you tell?” Annabeth asked. “Was there a specific moment you realized or something?”

Piper hummed under her breath and stared up at the ceiling. “Hard to say. It wasn’t anything big or dramatic, just little things piling on top of each other, until one day, I just knew. Kind of like getting taller or falling asleep. You don’t notice it when it happens only when you look back.”

When Annabeth was silent, Piper continued and said, “I will say that the first time I can remember consciously thinking it was after a meet sophomore year. Don’t remember how it went, but I can still picture how he looked after the race. He was all gross and sweaty and caked with mud, but his cheeks were pink from all the running and it just made him glow. And at that moment, I just remember thinking ‘Wow, I’m actually in love with this guy.’”

There was something about the way Piper spoke that even Annabeth could hear how much she loved him just by her tone, that it made a lump form in Annabeth’s throat.

“I’m so happy for you two,” Annabeth said softly. “You are both two of the most amazing people I have ever met, so I’m glad you are together.”

Piper laughed and said, “It’s weird to hear you pay me a compliment, but thanks.”

“After that shameless display of ungratefulness, I would suggest you don’t get used to it,” Annabeth said, crossing her arms over her chest.

Piper rolled her eyes and sank back into the sofa. “Is there something going on with you?”

Annabeth furrowed her brow. “What do you mean?”

“You tend to ask lots of questions when you’re upset about something,” Piper said, shrugging.

Annabeth blinked. She had no idea that she did that.

“Nothing in particular,” Annabeth said carefully. “Just wanted to hear from someone that’s been in a relationship for four years. I’m still new to it, and I don’t want to fuck everything up.”

“Learn anything useful then?” Piper asked, raising an eyebrow.

Annabeth was quiet for a while and tried to choose her words carefully. “The part about communicating was helpful.”

Piper gave her a knowing smile. “Really? Well, I’m glad to hear that.”

“I feel like it was easier when we were only friends,” Annabeth said.

“Hmm, Percy was just doing a lot of work behind the scenes for you to make you feel that way. Now that you’re in a relationship, it’s harder for him to do that, so it’s only exposing issues that were already there,” Piper said.

Annabeth frowned. “What do you mean?”

Piper shrugged and said, “Well, part of it is that Percy is stupidly empathetic, so he would anticipate your emotional needs and provide for them with you having to do much. The bigger problem is that you don’t really understand the way he thinks, so you are incapable of doing the same for him.”

A spark of anger lit in Annabeth’s chest. “Well, why don’t you spell it out for me since I’m apparently so ignorant?”

“Annabeth, chill. I’m not saying you’re a bad friend or that I know more about him than you do,” Piper said, holding her hands up in surrender.

“Then what are you saying?” Annabeth hissed.

Piper sighed again and said, “Look, I love you and everything, but you don’t fully understand that other people don’t think or see the world in the same way you do. I’ll give you an example. What do you usually do when you’re really upset about something?”

After a moment, Annabeth said, “I give myself some space until I am ready to talk about it.”

“Exactly,” Piper said, nodding. “Percy is not like that. When he’s upset, he wants someone to press him about it, like really press him. There are a lot of reasons for it, but one huge reason is that he doesn’t feel like his problems are worth anyone else’s attention, so you have to convince him otherwise.”

Annabeth was stunned. That had legitimately never occurred to her. She had always assumed that Percy would come to her if he needed to because that’s what she did whenever she was upset. She whenever she had given him space in the past, thinking it would help, it had looked like callous silence to him instead, a sign that she didn’t care enough to hear what was going on.

Her mind raced. How many times in the past had she fucked up monumentally because this had never occurred to her?

“Do you get what I mean now?” Piper prompted.

Annabeth nodded slowly and said, “I- I had no idea. I just sort of assumed he was like me.”

“That’s a perfectly normal thing to do,” Piper said. “Like I said earlier, I’m not telling you this because I think you’re a shitty human being or whatever. I’m telling you because the way that you and Percy communicate has some really deep, fundamental issues, and that it has been that way for years now.”

“Then why didn’t you say anything sooner?” Annabeth asked, trying not to let anger creep in her voice. “I could have done so much more to avoid hurting him.”

“Because you wouldn’t have listened to me,” Piper said, crossing her arms over her chest. “Your relationship with Percy is something sacred to you. You take pride in being close to him and knowing him really well. If I had said something contrary to that, you would have gone ballistic. You getting mad earlier was more than enough proof of that. I can only tell you now because you’re finally starting to notice issues for yourself.”

Annabeth grit her teeth and stared down at her lap. Piper was right. She was right, but it was so crippling to hear that Annabeth had been such a god-awful friend. Annabeth did take great pride in how well she thought she knew Percy, but ever since they had started fake-dating, she had started realizing she had deluded herself the entire time. It was incredibly jarring for her to realize that her vision of him compared to reality was so off, especially when she prided herself in the keenness of her judgment and intellect.

Piper squeezed her shoulder and said, “Look, I know this must have been a lot for you to hear, but you’re not alone. Almost everyone has trouble seeing people distinctly, as they are. People like Percy who do it naturally are the rare ones.”

“Then what should I do?” Annabeth asked tersely. “I feel so stuck.”

“Don’t assume so much. If you’re upset, tell him. If you want him to open up, ask him to. The only way to know what’s on his mind is to ask him. You don’t have to try so hard to read his mind for him,” Piper explained.

Annabeth nodded curtly and said, “I’m just so mad at myself.”

“I get it, but it’s not all on you. Percy also shoulders some responsibility, but it’s hard to blame him. Lord knows how much he has done for us,” Piper mused. “Besides, he has his own issues that he needs to deal with.”

“I-I’ll do what I can,” Annabeth said.

“If it’s you, I think you can do it,” Piper said, smiling softly.

As nice as it was to hear that, Annabeth had no self-confidence in her ability to be a good friend, not anymore. Still, Piper was right. Percy had done so much for her. If this could help him somehow, then she was determined to do her best.

After a few more minutes of silence, Piper said, “We should probably get back to the project.”

Annabeth smiled despite herself and feigned wiping a tear from her eye. “I never thought I’d live to hear the day you’d say that.”

:::

In keeping with tradition, Annabeth still somehow managed to find a way to be late to the State Swimming Championship. It was held at a neighboring high school not far from Westwood, but she had stayed up all night the day before painting a sign for Percy, which led to her sleeping through her alarm. She had brushed her teeth and taken as quick a shower as she possibly could before dashing out of her house, sign tucked beneath her arm.

By the time she made it inside, the first heat was already over. Annabeth scanned the bleachers and found all her friends sitting next to Sally. She took the steps three at a time and took a moment to catch her breath before she took a seat between Sally and Piper.

“Where’s Estelle?” Annabeth asked.

“Paul took her to go back some snacks at the concession stand. How have you been, dear?” Sally asked.

“I’m good. School is getting busy, but I’m getting by,” Annabeth said. “How’s Percy doing?”

“He seemed ready. Cautious, but focused,” Sally said.

“That’s good to hear,” Annabeth said.

Estelle and Paul returned with bags of snacks for everyone. They passed them around to all of Percy’s friends and squeezed past to sit next to Sally. Estelle was thrilled to see Annabeth and threw her arms around her neck.

“Annabeth!” Estelle squealed.

Annabeth laughed and hugged her back. “How have you been, Stella?”

“Good! I just lost a tooth last night. See?” Estelle said, giving Annabeth a toothy smile.

“Wow, did you get a visit from the tooth fairy?” Annabeth asked.

Estelle nodded vigorously. “I got five whole dollars!”

“What are you going to spend it on?”

“She used her money to buy snacks for everyone,” Paul interjected.

“Daddy!” Estelle huffed.

Paul held his palms up in surrender. “Oh, sorry, she told me not to tell anyone about that.”

“Thanks, Stella!” Annabeth said, smiling. “She’s a good kid.”

“She is,” Paul said proudly. “It’s the Jackson genes, I’m telling you.”

“Oh, hush,” Sally said, though she looked pleased anyways.

Paul grinned at her and turned to Annabeth. “It’s been a while since we have had time to catch up, Annabeth. I heard you got into Berkeley! That’s amazing!”

“Yeah, thank you,” Annabeth said, hiding a smile.

“It’s a wonderful school. I’m sure you’ll love it,” Paul said.

Annabeth was about to thank him, but they were interrupted by an announcement that the next heat was to begin for men’s free style. The State tournament was different compared to other tournaments held during the regular season. There would be a preliminary round of ten heats of six swimmers each, and then the top six swimmers would be selected based off their times to participate in a final round. The winner of the final would win the entire competition. It was therefore possible to have the best time in the prelims and still lose if someone placed higher than you in the last round. Annabeth had never been a fan of the way the tournament was run, but there was nothing anyone could do about it.

Percy was going to be in the penultimate heat, so there was still time before he participated. In fact, he wasn’t even out of the locker room yet. Annabeth knew that he was staying inside to maintain his focus until the start of his heat. She recognized one of his teammates that was in the next heat, so she paid attention to him even though it was hard to feel interested.

After the heat began, Annabeth was once again reminded of how much fiercer the competition was at State compared to the other meets. Percy hadn’t competed against many of the swimmers here because they lived on the other side of the state. It might have been a function of the fact that it was her first time seeing some of them, but the competition looked stronger this year than it had in previous ones. They were so skilled that Annabeth wasn’t sure Percy was a shoe-in for first like she had initially thought.

There was one swimmer in particular from the sixth heat, Castellan, that was particularly scary. The effortless, graceful way he swam reminded her a lot of Percy’s form, and he managed to win his heat by a wide margin. She had never seen him before in any of the other meets or from previous years either. He must have moved to the State sometime this season. Nevertheless, it sowed a seed of worry in her mind that continued to take deeper root even after his heat ended.

Eventually, Percy finally made his way out when his heat was announced. Annabeth was relieved to see the familiar cold intensity on his face that she was accustomed to. After the last meet, she had been afraid that his focus would still be shaky when State finally rolled around, but instead Percy looked more focussed now than she had ever seen him before. Everything about him gave off the impression that he was going to win.

When his heat finally began, Percy dove into the water clinically and quickly pulled ahead of the competition. Annabeth and the rest of their friends cheered loudly for him as he touched off the other side of the pool, almost a full body’s length ahead of the person in second. The rest of the race only solidified Percy’s lead as he pulled further and further ahead.

Once he touched the opposite wall, Percy burst out of the water and took a moment to catch his breath, but then he looked over to the opposite end of the pool and pressed his lips in a thin line. Annabeth was confused at first because his time was fantastic, and he had done so well in his heat, but then she realized his time had been slower than that swimmer from the sixth heat. Although it wasn’t an indication of how the finals would go, it was still damaging to realize that someone had done better than you in the prelims.

Annabeth worried her lip and turned to Piper when she felt her hand on her shoulder. “Why does he look so annoyed?” Piper whispered.

“That guy from the sixth heat, Castellan, had a better time than he did,” Annabeth muttered.

Piper blinked and looked back down at Percy. “Wait, really?”

Annabeth nodded. “Yeah. It’s not the end of the world or anything, but it’s gonna pile some extra pressure onto his shoulders.”

“He’ll be fine,” Jason ventured, from beside Piper. “If he keeps his cool, he can put up a good fight. Besides, I don’t think their times were off by a lot.”

“True,” Annabeth agreed. “It would have been a lot worse if it was a blowout.”

“There’s a break before the finals start right?” Hazel asked, speaking across from Jason.

Piper looked at the meet schedule and nodded. “Yeah, there’s a half hour to give the competitors from the later heats time to rest before the finals.”

“Should we go see him or something?” Hazel asked.

Jason shook his head and said, “No, there’s a chance that we just make him lose focus. Besides, there nothing we can really say to help him.”

“Well, that fucking sucks,” Rachel huffed.

Hazel nudged Rachel with her elbow and whispered, “Don’t swear! Estelle is here.”

Rachel winced and said to Sally, “Sorry, Mrs. Jackson.”

Sally gave her a mischievous smile and said, “You should be, dear.”

That got a laugh out of all of them, much to Estelle’s confusion. They talked amongst themselves during the break before Annabeth realized she needed to run to the bathroom. Annabeth wasn’t gone long, but on her way back, she ran into someone walking the other way.

“Ouch.”

Annabeth stumbled back and rubbed her shoulder. “Sorry, are you okay?”

“Oh, hey, look who it is,” Percy said, smiling down at her.

“Oh, hey,” Annabeth said, blinking. “I was just coming back from the bathroom.”

Percy laughed and said, “Yeah, I kind of figured.”

There was an awkward pause where Annabeth debated if she should continue talking to him or if that would break his focus. His body language was relaxed, but Annabeth could tell that there was some tension in his shoulders. The way he lingered there gave her the impression that he wanted to talk to her, so she figured it was alright to say something.

“How are you doing?”

Percy coughed and looked away surreptitiously. “Fine.”

Annabeth crossed her arms over her chest. “You don’t look fine to me.”

Percy blinked like he was surprised she had called him out. In the past, Annabeth would have ignored the signs under the assumption that he didn’t want to talk about it, but after her conversation with Piper, she didn’t want to keep making those mistakes anymore.

Eventually, Percy sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “Did you get a chance to see that Castellan guy from the sixth heat?”

Annabeth nodded and said, “Yeah, he seemed pretty good.”

“His time was pretty insane,” Percy said slowly. “Better than my PR.”

“It wasn’t that far off though,” Annabeth said, leaning against the wall.

Percy rubbed his chin. “That’s true.”

“If I didn’t know any better, I would say you don’t think you can beat him,” Annabeth said softly.

Percy looked up at her abruptly with wide eyes. “Uh...”

“Guilty as charged, huh?”

There was a pause before Percy laughed humorlessly and ran his fingers through his hair. “I don’t know. Usually, I never think about that sort of thing at meets. I’m only focused on doing my best. But now, I can’t help wondering if my best would even be enough.”

“I wish I could be super peppy and say that it definitely is, but I’ve had those thoughts too many times to say that to you. It would feel fake and you’d know it,” Annabeth started.

“That’s not exactly making me feel better,” Percy joked half-heartedly.

“Shut up, I was getting to it,” Annabeth said, knocking elbows with him.

Percy made a show of rubbing his elbows, which made her roll her eyes before she continued.

“Remember how you told me after the invitational that I had to believe that I hadn’t hit my limit yet, that I could still do better? I’ve been thinking about that a lot lately, and I’m realizing that you were right. I’m killing any chance of improving if I believe it can’t be done. At the end of the day, I still want to keep competing, so I might as well believe in myself and keep trying.”

Percy was silent at this, so Annabeth continued. “My point is, you’ve gotta have faith in yourself. If that guy is better than you, make him prove it. Don’t do that work for him. You’re an insanely good swimmer. I know you can beat him. That’s not me saying that as a friend, but as another athlete. I know you have what it takes. Only question is: do you?”

“It’s not that I don’t think I’m good,” Percy said. “If it was just me, I wouldn’t be so worried, but so many people have put so much effort and faith in me that I can’t let them down. Like, I’ve always disappointed people, all my life, and there’s a voice in my head that tells me this time won’t be any different.”

“Fuck everyone else,” Annabeth said vehemently. “The people that care about you just want you to try your best.”

When Percy remained silent, Annabeth framed his face with her hands and forced him to meet her eyes. “Listen to me: all you have to do is go out there and swim. Nothing else matters. Okay?”

Percy was quiet for a while before he nodded slowly. “Okay.”

“You got this,” Annabeth said, squeezing his shoulders. “Give ‘em hell, Perce.”

“I will. Thanks, Annabeth,” Percy said, smiling. “I’ll see you after the finals are over?”

“I thought that went without saying,” Annabeth grinned. “There’s a chocolate milkshake from Martha’s with your name on it, after all.”

“Finally, something worth fighting for,” Percy sighed melodramatically.

Annabeth laughed and pushed him towards the locker room. “Alright, get going, champ. I’ll see you on the other side.”

Percy took a deep breath to steel himself and gave her one final nod before he made for the locker rooms. Annabeth waited for him to leave before she headed back to the bleachers. Piper gave her a questioning look as she sat down, as if to ask what took her so long, but Annabeth shrugged and remained silent.

The participants of the final heat left the locker room shortly after and stood in front of the pool. Percy’s lane was in the middle, right next to Castellan, from the sixth heat, but he looked composed and concentrated.

The swimmers stepped onto the diving boards and took their starting positions, bodies taut with anticipation. At the official’s whistle, they all dove into the water in unison. Percy and the other boy both quickly pulled ahead of the other four swimmers, but Percy lagged behind him ever so slightly. Annabeth leaned forward, forgetting to cheer, and worried her lower lip. She could tell Percy was trying to surge ahead of Castellan, but no matter what he did, the distance continued to remain unclosed for the first hundred meters.

Before they both touched off the wall for the final fifty meters, Percy seemed to lag further behind than he had all race. Annabeth’s heart sank, but somehow Percy surged forward on the last twenty meters and managed to pull alongside Castellan. At the end of the race, it was too close to tell who had won because they both appeared to finish at the same time.

Annabeth whipped towards the board on the far end of the pool and waited for the times to show, heart thundering in her chest. The subsequent seconds stretched like an eternity, but then numbers suddenly flickered on the board. It took Annabeth a second to process the results, but once she did, her heart soared in her chest.

Percy had won, but it had been unbelievably close.

Immediately, she looked back down for Percy and noticed the incredulous look on his face. It took his teammates tackling him for him to realize that he had won, a dumbfounded smile blossoming across his face. Annabeth clasped her hands in front of her mouth and tried to ignore the way her face hurt from smiling so hard. She could hear Piper and the rest of her friends going crazy beside her, but the noise felt distant like sound traveling through water.

They all made their way down to him, and Estelle and Paul were the first to speak to him before Sally pulled him into a fierce hug with misty eyes. After that, Piper jumped on his back and cheered while Jason congratulated him. Rachel and Hazel went next, followed by Frank and Leo, and through it all, Annabeth watched off to the side and tried not to tear up.

She felt so incredibly proud of him. All those years of grueling practice, nights spent staying late to get in extra laps at the pool, managing the pressure of his captaincy - all of it had paid off in the end, and she was so happy it had. He deserved all of it.

Finally, Percy locked eyes with her and slipped out of the arms of their other friends and wordlessly opened his arms. Annabeth didn’t even realize she was moving until she tackled him in a hug. He was still sopping wet from the race, so her shirt got wet but she couldn’t bring herself to care. Annabeth buried her face in the crook of his neck and squeezed Percy as tightly as she could.

It was hard to say how long they stayed like that, but eventually, she pulled away from his arms and looked up at him with a stupid grin on her face. “You did it! I’m so happy for you!”

Percy offered her an incredulous smile. “Somehow.”

“Shut up, you deserved to win. One hundred percent,” Annabeth said, poking his chest.

Percy’s ears turned red, and he tried to look away from her. “It was all thanks to a certain someone’s pep talk.”

“You’re giving me too much credit,” Annabeth said, but her heart felt ten times larger in her chest anyways.

“Seriously, I was really freaking out,” Percy said earnestly. “So thank you. Seriously.”

Annabeth bit back a smile. “You’re welcome. Seriously.”

“You never make things easy for me, do you,” Percy said, sighing melodramatically.

“Of course not,” Annabeth said. “I thought you would have figured that out after all these years.”

Percy shrugged. “What can I say? I’m a slow learner.”

“At least you’re not a slow swimmer,” Annabeth teased.

Percy rolled his eyes and said, “So what next? Martha’s?”

“You sure you want to celebrate with me and not your family?” Annabeth asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh don’t worry about that,” Percy laughed. “I know they’ll monopolize me later today. But first, I want that chocolate milkshake you promised me.”

Annabeth bit the inside of her cheek and tried not to get carried away by what he was saying. Still, she couldn’t help the feeling of exhilaration washing over her.

“Alright, Martha’s it is,” Annabeth said. “Go finish your shower and get dressed. I’ll be waiting for you.”

Percy nodded and left to tell his family their plans and to say goodbye to the rest of their friends, who were getting ready to leave. Piper gave her a knowing look on her way out, but Annabeth made a show of pointedly ignoring her.

A short while later, Percy met her at the entrance to the parking lot, his hair still wet from the shower. They drove to Martha’s in silence, only accompanied by the feeble radio in her dad’s car. The sun was just beginning to set, diffusing pink and blue across the spread of the horizon. At that proximity, Percy smelled distractingly of body wash, making Annabeth’s face prickle.

“I meant what I said earlier, you know?” Percy said, breaking the silence.

Annabeth glanced at him. “Hmm?”

“What you told me really helped,” Percy said.

“You’re being too nice,” Annabeth said.

“No, seriously, I was pretty sure I was gonna lose. Like on the last hundred meters, I kept thinking that it was only natural that I would let everyone down again, but then I heard your voice in my head, saying ‘All you have to do is go out there and swim’. I don’t know how or why, but that got me out of my own head and helped me win,” Percy explained.

Annabeth’s throat was dry. “I’m, uh, glad it helped.”

She caught his soft smile in the mirror. “Yeah, me too.”

“It’ll be your turn in April,” he said. “You’ll win State too, and then I’ll have to be the one buying milkshakes next time around.”

“Damn straight,” Annabeth said. “I can’t rest until I kick Reyna’s ass.”

“I can’t tell if you hate her or adore her,” Percy said, smirking.

“A little of both,” Annabeth admitted. “People that have never lost once in their lives piss me off, but Reyna’s a good person and fun to be around.”

“I did beat her at the batting cages,” Percy pointed out.

“Doesn’t count unless I’m the one doing it,” Annabeth said, shaking her head.

Percy’s grin grew wider before he turned away from her, making Annabeth scowl. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing, I just thought that was a very ‘Annabeth’ thing to say,” Percy said, shrugging.

“Is that a good or a bad thing?”

“Hmm, I wonder,” Percy said, still grinning.

“Asshole,” Annabeth huffed.

There was a lull in the conversation while Annabeth began to turn something over in her mind. At first, it had seemed like a stupid idea, but the more that she thought about it, the more she wanted to go for it.

“H-Hey, I know you said you’d get me a milkshake if I won and all, but is it cool if I ask for something else instead?” Annabeth asked, fingers curling tighter around the steering wheel.

“Your wish is my command, your majesty.”

“Shut up, I’m being serious,” Annabeth laughed.

“Sure, I don’t see why not,” Percy said, shrugging. “What did you want instead?”

Annabeth swallowed and said, “I’ll let it be a surprise for now. Just promise not to chicken out when the time comes.”

“You’re not gonna ask me to like run around school naked or something right?” Percy asked, raising an eyebrow.

Annabeth barked a laugh. “Tempting, but no.”

Percy hummed to himself for a while before he sighed and said, “Well, I suppose I’ll just have to trust you not to make me do something embarrassing.”

“Don’t worry so much. I promise it’s not that bad. Just wanted to ask you something. Besides, there’s no guarantee that I’ll even win, after all,” Annabeth said.

Percy yawned and curled up in his seat and closed his eyes. “I don’t know, I’m pretty certain you’ll win.”

Annabeth glanced at him. “Yeah? What makes you say that?”

“Dunno, I just believe in you,” Percy said simply.

Annabeth bit the inside of her cheek and resisted the urge to tell him that he was making a mistake. Honestly, she didn’t think she had a snowball’s chance in hell of beating Reyna at State, but she would still try her best to repay Percy’s faith in her. As a fellow athlete, he wouldn’t say something like that just to be nice. If he thought she had a shot, then maybe he was seeing something in her that she couldn’t.

The sky continued to darken, and Annabeth found herself thinking that even if she couldn’t believe in herself, maybe she could believe in how much Percy believed in her instead.

[jjba-hell]

Repaid

Day 3 and its time for some spaghetti western shenanigans.

Listen... I don’t like Westerns but I did have way too much fun writing this so do with it what you may.

Reader stays gender neutral in this house, no real warnings save for some guns and violence. Enjoy.

The dull ache in your right eye socket is really starting to get you. You’d figured you could sleep it off if not for the scratchy material of the tavern sheets under your skin.

Wait.

How did you get to the tavern again? Last time you checked Miles was a few days behind you and he had the money. The plan was to camp.

Camp... camp... oh right camp! You sat up to look for anyone else awake- someone should be on watch but there’s no dying campfire beside you. There was nothing beside you, not even a horse to say you’d been left behind. All that stretched around you was an infinite amount of desert sand painted pale blue by the full moon above you.

“Shit.” You hiss out between your teeth as you push yourself up on your feet. Not even so much as a sleeping mat was underneath you and god this stupid eye of yours was foggy. Must be some sand caught in your eye- wouldn’t it scratch though?

You didn’t have much time to consider pondering as a shadow- that’s the best you could describe it- pushed its shoulder through you and continued a sluggish walk ahead of you to fuck knows where.

“Where are you going?” You found yourself asking with a voice much too hoarse to be your own. Not only was it hoarse but it brought awareness to just how dry and cracked your mouth and throat were. If you’d been out here since sundown or ever before that your throat was probably bleeding. Might explain the taste.

Without feeling like you had much choice you started walking after the shadow. The longer you walked the worse every annoying itch turned into an ache- the scratchiness in your throat only seemed to get worse the more you huffed a breath to continue walking. If you were following death, honestly you’d just laugh.

After what felt like hours you were no longer alone- a few other figures much like the one you were following seemed to join you in blindly walking after the leader. You couldn’t see much of them either, not that they were close enough to look at anyway. The town’s dull yellow lights seemed to brighten every step you took but it wasn’t enough to convince your body to cooperate. The closer you got, the heavier your limbs, the harder the steps until your knees gave out under you and your face acquainted itself with the dirt.

All you could remember after that was the feeling of hands clasping themselves under your arms and your feet dragging behind you.

“That’s the only memory I have of that night. I had no idea I even spoke to you.” You admitted to the man whose saddle you were slung over. “So unless you plan on selling yourselves out for a little bounty money I don’t see why this is fucking necessary.”

When you’d woken up from that night you found yourself more coddled than you’d ever been in your life- swaddled in soft sheets and even softer pajamas, wrapped up in bandages like you were a porcelain doll.

Didn’t last long and now you owed this gang money for your stay and a doctors visit. You promised you’d pay them back but you didn’t have a fucking penny on you. Their solution? Tying your hands in front of you and slinging you over the saddle of the one with the weird eyes.

“You admitted to being from the McRoys gang- that’s loyalty bonded by blood.” The gruff voice above you commented, not doing anything to qualm the painful pounding your stomach was getting from the horse’s steps.

“My sister married a McRoy for fuck’s sake, those fucks don’t mean shit to me!”

“Swear that on ya daddy’s grave?” Came the question after some audible hooves clambering to get closer to your head.

“I’ll do ya one better- I’ll put ‘em in his grave and THEN swear they ain’t mean shit to me.”

Their boss slowed down to a stop and you’ve never wanted to slide headfirst into the sand more than you did in that moment. “This the place?”

You were hauled off of the horse and onto shakey legs. True as hell you stood at the sign for the McRoy ranch and to even a bigger surprise your goddamn horse stood at the troth drinking water with your saddle on and all.

“Why you fucking- untie me right now.” You held your bound wrists at the giant man that had lifted you off.

He only gave an amused huff of air from his nose as he cut you free so you could stomp through the hot sand on bare feet.

“And you leave me? After hauling you out of your fucking mother all those years ago, I topple off you once and you fucking high-tail it?” You angrily grab the knapsack from its back to rummage through for some clothes- wasting no time to slip over your head and over your ass to replace the pajamas.

“Are you sure you were riding alone?” The brunette with the ponytails asked.

“Yeah. I don’t even remember why I toppled, let alone where or how..” You peered at the team once more. “My boots?”

They all seemed to share a laugh as the blonde coughed it up and you humiliatingly stepped straight in them.

“Right. So now that we’re all on equal footing... what do you really want from me?”

Being an outcast in any group was difficult, LaSquadra was no different. You’d have to risk your skin more than once to finally be able to earn even a bit of trust from their boss specifically and what you’d deem your cut was quickly snatched up by Formaggio for drinks until one day Risotto handed you your cut of coin and instead of quietly handing over the money, pulled a gun at Formaggio’s head- the first right move you’d pulled in weeks.

You’d soon learn each of them held a bounty over their heads- deciding to stick together instead of trying to haul each other’s asses to the nearest sheriff. And with your handiwork all over the McRoy ranch heist (clean as you’d tried to keep it), you’d find yourself with a bounty almost comparable to Risotto’s.

It was only when your place among them was solidified that you found yourself suggesting more and more outlandish schemes for a bigger cash grab.

“But we gotta start thinking logically about this- if we burn down every sheriff’s office there’d be no evidence to incriminate us.” You had jabbed at Illuso as you two ducked under an overturned table. One moment you were offering a stand off in the town square, the next thing you knew the bar was being blown sky high by some awfully desperate lawmen.

Risotto’s bullwhip slid across the shattered glass from the neighboring table and that what all signal you needed. “And all of this because ONE wanted poster showed you having a mole on your upper lip.”

“Did you not see the size of that thing??”

Risotto kicked the overturned table to slide into the crowd- leaving you enough of a gap to between the bullets to crack the whip into a couple hands- those viper venom soaked bone shards woven into the end was doing enough damage to the holder’s hand to knock ‘em out of the game for the count.

You got enough of them down to give Ghiaccio the chance to fire a few shots and Melone to bust open the window where Pesci awaited with your way out.

Risotto slid in behind your table and handed the loaded pistol for your round of shots. Not that you missed half as much as the men your travelled with.

Your right eye never did stop being foggy- Melone suspected cataracts but you saw targets much too easy with your foggy eye to cover it up completely. Maybe you were taking “deadeye” too literally though.

After 5 out of 6 rounds now lodged firmly in some lawmen’s thighs you hopped out the window last and took off after the rest of your team.

“If we have to pay for one more bar’s repairs I swear to god I’ll turn myself in for a hanging.” Formaggio huffed as he dropped onto the dusty floor beside you- fingers outstretched for the bottle of moonshine you were only passing around- that shit was vile.

“They’ve been hot on our trail for a while now- you think the townspeople are sick of us?”

“Somehow I doubt they’re willing to take their chances with Ciocolatta’s cronies, must be something else.” Prosciutto lowered himself to your other side, offering a cigarette which you did accept. “You don’t think it’s the new governor?”

“That little blonde pipsqueak? No, there’s no way- he probably got that job from his daddy and doesn’t know what the hell he’s doing, let alone getting lawmen to run us down this consistently. Illuso, you’re the one making people squeal when we stay in town, no rumors that could have sparked this?”

“Carne’s allegedly dead but he’s not big enough for the people to let their guards down now.”

“Well we might be finding out soon.” All your heads spun to Risotto as he walked back into camp from the first watch. “There’s someone coming this way.”

“I’m guessing you think we can take them?”

“Sick of running. Anyone who’d come this far after us at least deserves an audience.”

You’d packed everything up except the fire in the camp- if it was going to be a shootout, at least you’d be ready to leave. You were about to mount your horse when Risotto stopped you. “I’m gonna let you stand up front-“ he handed you his bullwhip and two more casings of ammo. “If anything goes south, you’re our best shot.”

So you nodded and led your horse to the front, the others waiting behind you as the group- matching your own in numbers- came to a stop.

“You calling the shots?” The one with long white hair cascading under the brim of his hat asked.

“Nah- just the front line. What you come out all this way for? The moonshine’s shit unfortunately.”

“Precaution. We’re not here for any arrests, though.” Mr Black Bob came to his partner’s defense- the rest only seemed to wait.

“No arrests? You say that with a lawman right next to you?” You gave a nod to Mr Moonhair.

The click of a pistol had the hairs on the back of your head stand up. You didn’t know from which side it came from but it was like a cascade of 13 other pistols pulling back their hammers.

“Perhaps we should talk before we jump to conclusions. Name’s Bucciarati.”

“Well Bucciarati it sounded like that pistol cock came from your side first. I don’t know if I can trust a bunch of snakes that lie to my face.”

It was surprisingly not Mr Moonhair that removed his revolver from its holster. It was the one with the bandana over his head.

Another cascade of metal slipping from leather as they all pointed at one another, save for you and Bucciarati. “Got some trigger-happy subordinates there, Bucci. Who do you work for?”

“The governor.” All charm had left his voice and now you were left to the stiff formalities of a man serving.

“Ah. So you ARE lawmen.”

“We have no idea what sinister grip you have over the townspeople but it will not continue like this. We’re here for an ultimatum. Disappear from your business and all bounties will drop- no lawman will arrest you and the warrant for your hangings will be dropped.”

“Mhm and if we’re caught doing our usual business?”

“Then all charges are doubled.”

You couldn’t help but give an earnest laugh as you broke the stare off between you and Bucciarati. You leisurely turned around and mounted your horse. Risotto gave you a knowing look as you did, stealing yourself to look into Bucciarati’s ocean blue eyes.

“Do yourselves a favor- go visit Reaverbrooke. Ask some questions... shit if anyone is still there... and get a feel for the service we provide. Make sure you report all of that to the little blonde boy’s boot you’re lickin’ and maybe then we can talk on ultimatums.”

The barrels lowered as you spoke, watching Bucciarati keep up his attempt at a death stare.

“But since you’re lucky, you’re dealing with the bleeding heart of this gang- we’ll lay low until you come back to us. Same time next week?”

Bucciarati wasn’t given much time to answer as you led your squad out of the camp. Once enough distance was put between you, Risotto came up beside you.

“You’re leading us to their base? What are you mad?”

“Someone’s gotta put that pipsqueak back into his place. Who better than us?”

[retrievablememories]

style | jaehyun

title: style pairing: jaehyun x black!reader genre: fluff request: “I was watching the bts for the photo shoots for neo zone and made think about how fun it would be on set with them. Do you think you could write something more jaehyun centric about being like a new makeup artist on set. It can be a black reader as well if that’s cool with you” word count: 2.8k warnings: none that i can think of except some cursing a/n: oof okay my mind somehow skipped over the “new” part so the reader in this fic is actually pretty experienced w/ being a makeup artist. i could rewrite it but i didn’t want to wait any longer to post this fic since it’s already been a couple weeks since the request. i’m sorry if this is not what you were looking for anon, let me know 🤕

Being a Black makeup artist in a mostly Korean music industry can be weird at times. It’s not the life of roses and perfume that many others at the beginning of your career would’ve had you think it is, but you have managed to carve out your own niche. You have friends and people who support you, and a nice apartment you’re able to pay for with the salary you receive from SM, which is enough for you.

It also doesn’t hurt to be surrounded by pretty men all the time.

You worked for many different groups and solo acts before landing a steady job at SM Entertainment—some were nicer than others, and some were straight-up assholes. You can’t say you miss those days much, especially when you were just starting out and not always certain of where your next paycheck was coming from. Now, your most consistent clients have been NCT, which you are grateful for; they’re always pleasant and fun to work with.

Your latest work with them involves NCT 127’s new album, Neo Zone. You’re coming in today for the first day of the album jacket photoshoot, which you’re excited about; you haven’t seen any of the NCT members since you worked on Coming Home. You don’t mind doing makeup for the other SM acts, but there’s a certain connection you have with this group that you just can’t explain.

With your makeup bag on hand, you enter the studio where the boys are going to be shooting today, already taken aback by the loud orange checkerboard pattern on the floor. There are even garish deer heads and hooves mounted up on the walls; SM has really outdone themselves this time.

“Y/N, it’s you!” Jaehyun looks excited to see you, and his enthusiasm rubs off on you; you shoot him a welcoming smile back.

“Hi Jaehyun,” you say, walking over to where he’s standing. Jaehyun doesn’t hesitate to open his arms to give you a hug, and you appreciate the soothing smell of his cologne before pulling away.

Jungwoo and Mark run up to you too, crushing you between them in a hug, and pretty soon you end up embracing all of the boys as they come over for your attention.

“Wow, that is some hairstyle…” you say as you pull away from Johnny. You reach up to pinch one of his twists between your fingers, examining it with a look halfway between mortification and amusement.

“Do you like it?” he asks, an equally awkward grin on his face.

“Um…I’m sure the fans will love it.” You can only chuckle and pat him on the arm before making your way back over to Jaehyun to start on his look for the shoot. You pull your supplies out of your makeup bag as Jaehyun watches you from the chair; his attention is eventually drawn away when Taeil comes over to show him something on his phone.

When you have everything ready and have pinned his hair out of the way, you start painting his face.

Jaehyun only has one AirPod in his ear; you’re not sure where the other is, but you figure it must be with Taeil or one of the other members. You think he’s just listening to music without paying you any mind, but he says suddenly, “I like when you come around.”

“Oh, really? Why is that?”

“I dunno, your makeup just looks better…” He lowers his voice as if he doesn’t want the other makeup artists to hear, and you laugh inwardly.

“Maybe it’s because I know how to use the right foundation shade.” You both laugh openly at that, and Haechan takes notice, dropping in beside Jaehyun.

“What are you two laughing about? I wanna laugh too,” the younger man says, his eyes round and mischievous.

“Just the fact that it’s no fun to walk around with makeup looking like Casper the Ghost,” you say, and Haechan scoffs.

“Try telling that to….” Haechan’s eyes dart around, and you suspect the makeup artist he wants to throw shade on must be at the shoot with them right now. “...nevermind, that’s a discussion for the group chat!” Instead, he goes over to Taeyong to bother him.

“Group chat? I feel left out now,” you say jokingly, continuing with Jaehyun’s makeup.

“You don’t have one with your stylist friends or something like that?” he asks.

“Yes, but I wanna know what you guys are talking about…” You raise your eyebrows. “That’s just nosy me, though.”

“Nothing interesting,” Jaehyun replies, though you can tell by the look in his eyes that that’s far from the truth.

“Mhmm, sure.” You purse your lips together and shake your head. “Don’t let me find out you’re on some fuckboy shit.”

“If I was, would you punish me?” Jaehyun says this loud enough to draw a few mildly scandalized glances from the stylists and makeup artists standing nearby, and you duck your head, feeling equal parts tickled and embarrassed.

“You’re a mess, Jaehyun. I’m trying to keep this job, okay?” you reprimand him, but there’s no seriousness in it at all.

“Of course, you’re right—I’d never want to see my favorite staff member gone.”

“Shiiit, now I’m just a staff member?” You put a hand over your heart, acting hurt. You both laugh and joke around for a while longer until you’re done with his look for the photoshoot.

Once you finish with Jaehyun’s makeup, you do Mark and then Taeil, chatting casually with them all the while. Taeil is still a bit quiet with you, but he’s incredibly funny when he wants to be, and you can always appreciate a good joke or two. You know Jaehyun “flirts” with you noticeably more than the other members do, but you’ve gotten used to all their subtle differences and you don’t think to chalk it up to more than innocent playfulness—or over-playfulness, maybe.

You’re always somewhere nearby in the background, ready to jump in and retouch someone’s foundation or redo a highlight whenever necessary. You sit back and watch Jaehyun take his solo pictures, admiring your good work on his makeup—or maybe his handsomeness all on its own. He has a good face, you think, and try to convince yourself that you’re only thinking about it in terms of how easy his features are to work with.

Your front row view of the show is interrupted when one of the stylists comes over to ask you a question, and you’re pulled to another area to handle an issue. There’s never not something to do on days like these, though you don’t really mind it; being busy doesn’t bother you as much when the work is fairly fun. 

The other boys continue playing around on the set as they wait their turns for solo photos and then group pictures. You eventually end up back in front of Taeil again, fixing a spot on his foundation with a Q-tip as a hairstylist fusses over his strands.

You sit on one of the couches on set for a moment’s break after finishing with Taeil. Johnny comes creeping over to you with the polaroid camera he’s been carrying for the past half-hour, and you can already guess what’s about to happen. You hold your hands up, blocking your face.

“I know you’re the aspiring photographer and all, but can you give me and my visage a break?”

“Just one?” Johnny begs, giving you his best pout. You give him an unimpressed look and cross your arms, but your face eventually cracks when he keeps throwing you exaggerated pouty expressions.

“It’s not happening! I’m not even prepared for pictures today,” you insist. Your complaints are interrupted when Haechan slides onto the couch beside you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders.

“Don’t you want to take a picture with me, at least?” He tries to press his cheek against yours and you gently chide him about his makeup, not wanting to create more work for the other girls on set who’ll have to fix it. “I knoww, I knoww. If you take a picture with me, I’ll stop!”

You sigh in mock distress. “Fine, one photo! Can’t keep these paparazzi off my back, can I?” You and Haechan end up striking multiple poses for Johnny while he pretends to be an enthusiastic photog capturing a celebrity couple.

“Hope Jaehyun doesn’t get too jealous,” Johnny says absentmindedly, holding one of the shiny polaroids between his fingers. You cock your head at that.

“Now why would he get jealous?”

“Because that’s how Hyung is,” Haechan replies, quickly getting off the couch and trying to usher Johnny off the scene. He acts as if the older man has just said something he wasn’t supposed to, and Johnny belatedly notices his “mistake” with an awkward shrug. Before he leaves, he hands you one of the polaroids of you and Haechan.

“Put it in a scrapbook or something!”

“Sure, Johnny.” You stare at the small photo in your hands, though Johnny’s words stay floating around in your mind well after the first day’s shoot is over.

The next day is hectic, much like the last, though the set is quite different this time around. You definitely feel a bit better about having more space to move around in without other staff members practically standing on top of each other. Johnny’s hair is back to its normal state, though now Taeil and Haechan have braids; you can’t help but squint your eyes at that, though you say nothing. It’s not worth falling out with the hairstylists again—you learned early on that these companies are gonna do whatever the hell they want.

“You look really good today—all thanks to me, of course,” you tell Jaehyun after he finishes recording his part for the BTS video. “Aren’t I magic?”

“Don’t knock the hairstylists, they wouldn’t like to hear that,” he snickers.

“I’d like to do more than knock them, but we ain’t got time for that.” You wave your hand and change the subject. “Did you enjoy yesterday’s shoot? I dunno about you, but I think it went pretty well. Hopefully today is the same.”

Jaehyun nods his agreement. “It was great.” Then he pauses before casually mentioning, “I heard you and Haechan were getting close yesterday, though.” You notice Doyoung and Yuta out of the corner of your eye, lingering around as if they’re waiting on their turn for photos, but it’s clear that they’re eavesdropping from the looks on their faces.

“Yes, so sue me for hanging out with an NCT member that isn’t you, how could I ever betray you in such a way?” You cover your mouth in faux horror and the other man shakes his head, grabbing your elbow.

“I don’t know if my heart will ever recover,” he says, going along with your act. He pulls on your arm and brings your hand to chest. “Feel it—it’s broken!”

This feels like a bold move even for him, and Doyoung makes a noise in the background that confirms your surprise. You whip your head towards the other two men and they immediately scatter, finding other things to preoccupy themselves with to avoid your scolding.

Jaehyun’s heartbeat is a little faster than it should be under your palm, and at this point you can probably guess why. Johnny’s words and Haechan’s near panic come to the forefront of your memory again. You behave as casually as you can, drawing your hand back to your side and quirking an eyebrow at him. Someone calls your name from the other side of the room, and you go to see what they’re hollering about, but not before calling over your shoulder,

“Your heart rate’s elevated, might wanna see a doctor about that!”

You end up having to retouch Jaehyun’s makeup more than usual throughout the shoot because of his playing around with the other boys, whether it’s riding in a shopping cart or trying to pedal a damn bicycle up the wall, and you almost have to wonder if he’s doing it on purpose.

“You’re really gonna make me work for this job, huh?” You put your hands on your hips after finishing your quick fixes.

“Maybe.”

You roll your eyes. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

“So, you admit you think I’m cute?”

“What do you expect me to say? You certainly ain’t ugly...don’t let it go to your head, though.” You pat his shoulder and steer him towards the cameras. “Now go on! Don’t make me have to stay past midnight fixing your makeup all day.”

The rest of the jacket shooting goes smoothly—as smoothly as anything can on a busy set, anyway. Yuta even manages to get you to dance with him to one of the songs blaring over the studio’s speakers, though you scurry off again as soon as you see Johnny coming with his phone in hand. You know his blackmail folder must be huge at this point, and you’re not trying to become a part of the collection.

The boys come over for their hugs again as you pack up your makeup bag. Pretty soon, the only one left without an embrace is Jaehyun.

“Saving the best for last?” you ask as he watches you. He really does do that a lot, you realize.

He shrugs as if he’s unaffected by your compliment, but his dimples peeking out give him away every time.

“You can just say it, you know.” You look around and lower your voice. Though the playlist is still cycling through as loud as ever, you’d rather not have anyone else’s ears in your conversation right now.

“Say what?” he whispers back, still smiling.

“Hello! I think we both know.”

“You want to hear me say it that bad?”

“That’s rich coming from you! I’m not the one who pulled a move literally out of a kdrama earlier.” As you speak, you accidentally knock over a bottle of setting spray on the table, and both of you reach for it at the same time. 

Jaehyun’s fingers linger on yours, sending little sparks of excitement up your arm and through your body. You risk a look at him, and although you’re supposed to be keeping it low right now, you feel as if you’re the only two left in the room. He leans closer, and his familiar scent hits your senses again, threatening to wrap you up permanently in its hold.

“You’re right. I like you.”

Jaehyun picks up the fallen bottle and presses it into your hand, and it takes you a few seconds to react and put it back in your bag.

“I knew it,” you lie. You’re not sure why you feel so nervous about this, or why you feel like you’re doing something you shouldn’t. It’s not uncommon for idols to date their stylists; after all, they’re around each other all the time. But that doesn’t mean the company or anyone else will approve.

“Yes, Detective, you’ve figured out the big mystery.” You glare at Jaehyun for that, but he remains unphased. He turns around and leans against the table, giving off a casual air when he’s really checking to make sure no one is heading in your direction. “So...what do you say?”

You decide to draw this out a little longer just because you can. “To what?”

“I know you like me too.”

“Maybe,” you say, mimicking his earlier answer. “What are you gonna do about it if I do?”

“Make you my girlfriend, duh.” He says it with all the confidence in the world, but then backtracks a little when you give him an amused look. “Only if that’s what you want, though; we don’t have to do anything if—”

“You’re overthinking it!” You shake your head as you put the last thing in your makeup bag and zip it up. “I want to. Really. But you’re gonna have to take me out first.”

“Just tell me where you wanna go. I’ll take you anywhere.”

You sling your bag over your shoulder and sigh. “Have you always been this good with words? Or is it just because I like you?”

Jaehyun pushes himself off the table and steps closer, crowding into your personal space. “You tell me.”

“Don’t be so obvious.” You step back when you notice one of the managers’ eyes lingering where you two are standing. “Just...text me. You know how to reach me, right?”

“Of course.”

You continue stepping backwards towards the entrance, not wanting to let him out of your sight just yet. You smile and wave with both hands, still playing the role of “makeup artist to a super-famous kpop idol” and not “departing girlfriend” like you want to. “Then we’ll talk next time! Bye, Jaehyun!”

Jaehyun waves back, and you don’t turn around until you’re well into the hallway and one of the other boys has called him to hurry up. Leaving the building, you lean against one of the outside walls to take a breather before you head to your car.

“Holy shit.”

[artsninspo]

EXCUSE ME MISS - II

Masterlist 

Part I

AUTHORS NOTE: Soooo, I felt like the vibes were incomplete, there were no private jets, cars, no major black girl luxury moments (they’re coming). I’m going to try to wrap this one up in 5 parts.

SUMMARY: Anon requested one with Trevante and the Reader based on the Jay-Z and Pharrell Excuse Me Miss video. So, I decided to have some fun with it.

PAIRING: Trevante x Reader, Erik x Reader

---

The light streams into the room, beams slipping through sheer white curtains.

There’s a peace to this morning, no alarms, no rushing up and down the stairs – just the faint sweet smell of pancakes and the sounds of Chels’ cheffing playlist. You find yourself smiling, letting your body sink into the plush bed surrendering to the relaxation. Slow living brings you so much joy.

You smile in appreciation of all the finishes you diligently put into HQ, like the bath and rain shower. Putting a few drops of essential oil into your diffuser as you take a shower starting on an intricate face routine much neglected over the past few months.

The door opens and Robin smiles, her full lips and bright eyes sparkle.

“It’s nice isn’t it” she smiles handing you a cup of her infamous hot chocolate and sitting on the counter.

“Its paradise” you in the feeling of stillness.

“It’s been too long”

“It has” you agree with my eyes closed at the memory of life always being so sweet.

“Imagine if we could go shopping and get massages then eat at the mansion or rent a boat for the afternoon and work on our tans” Bella smiles entering your bathroom and the three of you stand there smiling with closed eyes.

“Soon” you sigh hopefully.

“Breakfast is ready” Chels says entering with a smile.

The vibe is so right you all walk into a group hug happy and hopeful. Last night had gone off without a hitch, each of you employing the necessary tactics to make the most of the big spenders. Best of all they wouldn’t miss the change they spent to have a good time. The four of you had been working yourselves to the bone for too long.

“Let’s eat!” Bella says leaving the bathroom first you file out until Chels stops you. The other girls go along and Chels takes an envelope out of her pocket.

“Erik’s payment for this month, it’s all there”  

“Thanks”

Chels smiles before you can, you both laugh a little before hugging away all the tension and bad blood caused by the financial stresses resulting from Chelsea’s bad decisions. Everything’s a little less contentious now that she’s finally over her depression about it and outing in just as much effort as everyone else to right the wrong. It’s even better when you all enjoy her gourmet breakfast. We all clean together enjoying the morning and each other’s company for the first time in what feels like forever.

“We’re, ten grand away from paying off the balance on the house we owe in arears” Robin says making everyone smile at the good news.

“I’ll try to sell some more bags” Chelsea offer’s but her style is so loud she has a lot of trouble ridding herself of her favorite pieces.

Bells smiles, “I’ll take on some extra hours at the shop, try to get in higher paying clients – up the ante on social media hopefully it brings us in some business”

“Ill keep scouting out more opportunities” Robin adds.

“How much do we owe Erik?” Bella asks and I do the calculations closing my eyes out of stress and irritation at the realization.

“50k” the response leaves everyone equally demoralized but the doom and gloom only lasts a moment before the bass of loud music and the purr of a luxury car is in within earshot of the house.

“Speak of the fucking devil” Chels grits.

Erik hops out of his black McLaren in Nike sweatpants and a matching t-shirt his hair is braided into a style freshly cut and relocked. His eyes smile when he sees me outside which is never a good sign. He’s like a predator, baring teeth isn’t a sign of docility.

“Hey baby” he taunts coming in for a kiss only to be pushed back. “Be nice, you owe me money” he responds reaching for the door behind you only to be stopped. “Why aren’t you at work? Your hairs freshly done too” he smiles running his hands through my silk press to work my nerves.

“Erik stop” I whisper, and he steps back finally swallowing.

“You have fun yesterday?” he asks.

Of course, he knows you think to yourself. It isn’t the late payment or genuine concern for your well-being it’s his ego.

“I’m twenty-five Erik I should be able to have some fun”

“Well since you’re not going to work, owe me money and don’t want me in the house – get your stuff”

“Pardon me?”

“What now you have a problem dressing sexy to get attention and get paid, I have a job for you” He says heading back into his car. “Don’t take long I’m not in the mood”

Just like that the perfect morning is ruined by your asshole ex. You head into the house to the girls waiting apprehensively.

“I’ll be back, he knows about last night, don’t make any moves with the” I pause mouthing MONEY before getting my purse and heading out before he gets too antsy. He opens the door for me letting me in the car.

Erik and I have history.

Not all the good kind.

He pulls off taking the freeway to his side of town. I take note of his sleepy expression, the slight bags under his eyes, his casual outfit and his irritation says he’s back from a job. He’s probably been up for at least  48 hours, definitely been traveling.

“So, if you just got back who squealed on me?”

Erik smiles at how well we know each other, “Doesn’t matter I run security at Onyx now”.

That’s a new development

“I don’t know how you make time for it all. The expansion, the odd jobs, keeping tabs on me”

“I prioritize what’s important” he mocks me kissing my hand. You shoot him a look that warns against his actions but it’s no use. The worst part about all of this is that you still find him attractive. If he had it in him to promise you, he was done with all the other women and that he could be a one woman man – you don’t think you could resist giving a relationship another shot.

“So, what’s the job?”

“The usual you go somewhere looking pretty, this time you’ll be sitting beside me, shouldn’t be too hard, Babydoll”

Erik was your first real boyfriend and there was nothing traditional or normal about your relationship. You were working at a strip club and Erik was a regular. He was insatiable and the entire club lit up when he’d come in. It was clear despite spending the money he wasn’t a trick. There were countless fights over him, and he thrived on the contention. He spent quite a lot of time at the bar with you trying to find your price for a private dance, or date or a little more. Unfortunately, you werent’t repulsed by a man who chose to spend his free time in the club watching naked women. You liked the attention. Erik was attentive, unlike the others. He realized that you kept things flowing. Spotted the big spenders and sent the girls to them. With smiles and little gestures, I kept the money flowing like an expert. Babydoll was a champ whose position wasn’t shaking her ass.

“Whatever Erik”

“How much y’all rake in last night? Y’all out of hot water yet or you still close to needing to move back home. You know I left your room and closet how you left it?” Erik has no business being such an asshole. The only thing I ever did to him was leave and cut all communication. He’s the one who was sleeping with other women and telling me they meant nothing. He starts laughing when he sees that I’m frustrated with him.

“You shouldn’t treat me like this” I snap tired of it, tired of the constant provocation.

“Fuck you!” He snaps aggressively. “Fuck you, Y/N” he repeats telling me to shut up. He’s exhausted and furious about my activities last night barely holding it together. “You owe me money. You tell me to fuck off, then a year and a half later you call me crying. Chels stole from you not me. You didn’t give me a happy birthday check on me nothing. I bailed her dumbass out a year ago right, took care of it FOR YOU!” he barks not looking at the road. “Then you treat me like I ain’t shit when you can’t even pay up consistently. I could put to work everyday until its paid off but I don’t. So shut the fuck up and grow up” he finishes with flared nostrils, his dark eyes a blaze waiting for me to challenge him.

I don’t, knowing when to pick my battles, “No one put a gun to your head, you didn’t have to, if you didn’t want to” I swallow.

His jaw clenches at the truth and he doesn’t say anything else for the remainder of the drive. He opens the garage when we pull up like he’s done a thousand times when we were good. Its nostalgic and this place still feels like home when it shouldn’t. The house has a few new upgrades. It’s still immaculate and our puppy runs to me all grown up now. He heads upstairs and I follow to my old room seeing my outfit ready on a clothing rack. You look around trying not to be overwhelmed by the memories. Erik never said no when your first moved in, he was your boss and he took great care of you. Life was easy, the responsibilities were minimal. About 10% work, 10% housekeeping, 60% having fun with the girls and 20% Erik because of his demanding schedule. It was perfect.

“I’m going to be away for the next month – don’t want you out here looking desperate”

“Month is a long job”

“Don’t act like you care” he says and it’s an insult. The problem is I care too much. His jaw clenches he’s angry with me for leaving still. “Benny will be here in an hour to do your hair and make-up” he sighs stepping closer. The anger fading as he eyes my lips. It’s like he scolds himself secretly like he decides against something before surrendering to lust. We both know better.

His left hand holds my side and his right guides my head back supporting my neck as his lips kiss mine. You can’t resist the temptation and deepen the kiss. It turns him on and kisses grow more and more assertive as he tries reclaiming what’s his. You both rush to nakedness. Your eyes glance over the new keloids covering his chest. His eyes fall in self-consciousness but there’s no room for judgement as his hand traces the covered tattoo of his initials under your breasts before he takes one, kissing them both.

Straddling him your hands hold his shoulders before lowering onto his manhood as your body yearns for him. There’s no shame in taking what you want. Erik had taught you that but it’s too much to watch him, watch you ride out the waves of pleasure. Your eyes close in the rapture of pleasure holding on for better control as you contract on his manhood making his grip tighten guiding your hips in a new rhythm. No longer face to face you embrace each other breathing heavily in each other’s ears as you both begin to glow.

Erik moves from the seat to the bed peppering kisses down your back before taking you from behind. Your breaths are even more shallow as you feel his frustration, anger and resentment with every stroke.

Hate-fucking.

Its lovely. Your eyes close as your teeth sink into your bottom lip in efforts to contain the moans of pleasure threatening to escape. His ego doesn’t need further sustenance. He grabs your neck reliving you of being on all fours as he strokes to his climax filling your vigorously, recklessly, intentionally. He doesn’t lose his strength as your body goes limp, guiding you both onto the bed to lay and catch your breath.

If things were different this would only be round one of many. You’d trace the keloids on his chest, kissing them, he’d hold you, running his fingers along your back.

It wouldn’t be so empty as you get up padding to the bathroom to pee. You’d be on birth control, not having to make a mental note for a plan B. Some sweet thoughtful gesture would follow not relief when you hear him leave the room heading into the master bedroom.

You sigh turning on the shower.

He hadn’t changed a thing.

….

I sit through hair and make-up with Benny and the nostalgia is a little too much as you laugh and talk like you’re still a kept woman with no worries, that couldn’t be further from the current reality.

“Are you still writing, anything I should check out? Ideas I should run by clients? Research?” He asks invested my career and progression.

“No” I swallow, and his smile falls as he looks at my reflection.

“It’ll return Y/N. Remember, no matter what you can’t kill an artist’s talent, but practice and action make masters” he smiles a pillar of wisdom.

“Thank you, Benson,” you kiss his cheek and he nods finished. You look better than you did last night.

“Tell Bella I’ll be holding classes again; I want her to take my south-eastern slot” he reminds packing up.

“I will” you smile gutted that we can’t afford our dreams right now.

You get dressed in the teenie tiny mini dress that has a circle lace up detail on the sides, you admire the vision of 90’s video girl, glam hoochie. Twirling in the mirror you admire your look, feeling sexy again. Browsing your closet to find a high-end bag to match the outfit. You were so mad when you decided to leave, you didn’t want anything to do with Erik not even the gifts he’d purchased.

You make a pick and turn to find Erik watching you in the doorway. There’s a hint of happiness in his eyes seeing you here but there’s also a danger to him. He definitely has something up his sleeve. Besides enough nostalgia to make you reconsider being his girl again.

“You look perfect” he smiles kissing your forehead.

Taking your hand, you leave in another car and end up at a venue that you’ve never been too.  Erik holds your hand as you walk through the outdoor venue before entering private cabana’s. He stops suddenly stepping behind you so he can guide your steps forward. Your heart slows in apprehension not trusting him. Your heart races when you close in on a man that looks familiar, dark chocolate skin, and a beard. He looks up sensing us and its Trevante. You swallow feeling yourself and so does Erik.

“You really think you were gonna fuck me over this easy. Milk him and walk away from me forever?” Erik says into my ear. My blood boils as Tre looks at us confused. I try to smile.

“Erik” Tre smiles.

“Tre, this is my girl Y/N, Y/N Tre, we go way back” Erik swallows looking me over. “And were working together” Erik smiles like he’s a good guy – not the cold-hearted insufferable asshole that he is. You’re so mad you could make a scene, knowing Erik that’s just the kind of embarrassment Erik is hoping for to further bury any prospects of you and Tre.

“Hi” I manage and Erik smiles at the hoarseness of my voice.

“What you want a long island, Tre want anything?” he asks his friend.

“I’m good bro” he responds and Erik stands leaving the two of us. You look at Tre who also looks at me like I’ve done something wrong. You turn to see Erik at the bar flirting with the bartender too dizzy to know which path to take in such a fucked situation.

“I didn’t know Erik settled down” Tre comments and you look back at Erik again feeling particularly cornered.

“You work together?” you ask, and Tre looks me over before nodding his head.

“On occasion”

“Erik’s not an adversary you want to have, so stop looking at me like that.” I warn and he looks taken back. Erik returns sitting close to me and I move away despite us having company. He just fucked me only to screw me over.

“You two met last night right?”

“Bro, I didn’t know” Tre surrenders like he isn’t the multimillionaire tycoon.

“You remember at MIT all the baddest bitches in the city were mind – you think Miami is different?” Erik laughs being disrespectful on purpose as he G checks Tre who shifts uncomfortable. Satisfied with position of power Erik smiles like he’s not about to raise hell. “I told you I had the perfect girl for your VR game” Erik smiles sitting back.

I’m so confused I’m getting a headache until Tre looks me over again. His eyes study me, drinking me in. His head nods and his lips upturn into a smile before his eyes light up.

“Bro, she’s perfect” he agrees shocked.

I’m uneasy as I look at Erik he’s pissed enough to put me in a bad position. “Youre lucky I still want to fuck you or you’d be leaving here embarrassed and broke but I’m still getting break for you – remember that the next time you go out in next to nothing looking desperate and embarrassing me” Erik whispers in my ear. He’s diabolical.

“It’s a VR game” Tre smiles when he sees I’m visibly confused and uneasy. “Virtual reality, influencer culture is big right now. Our game is going to monopolize that but first I need an IT girl, a model if you will. The blueprint, someone who fits the looks of private jets and shopping sprees, the kind of girl that our players will want to be friends with and like to look at.” He explains with a smile. I look at Erik who nods.

“Obviously I need to see numbers and a contract, how much of my likeness is going to be used”

“Your face your body” Erik says.

“I’m not doing anything raunchy” you tell him, and he smiles.

“That’s all for me. You two work it out, remember I get my cut” Erik says getting up and leaving.

He’s unbelievable – you can never decide if you hate him or love him.

_____

Taglist: 

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[poptod]

hello! can i request something romantic with either ahk or snafu or really any rami character where y/n has round dark brown doe eyes? like so dark brown they look black if you’re not looking at them in sunlight? and he’s just flirting with them and he says something nice about their eyes? i have round dark brown eyes and i’m kinda insecure about them cuz they’re so common, and it’s been one shit-show if a week for me and i really just need to feel good about myself

notes: damn, i can totally do that for you. hope your weekend is much better than your week :) thank u for requesting and i hope you enjoy it !

WC: 2k

+

Life never worked naturally to your advantage. You were born average looking – nothing special on either side of the spectrum, with average hands and common dark brown eyes. You grew up poor and worked your ass off to get into a good college on a scholarship, eventually getting kicked out for something you didn't even do. You auditioned to be part of an orchestra, but there were too many violinists already, and you just 'didn't fit the profile'. You tried to be an artist, but no one liked your creations. You tried to pick up another instrument, but you couldn't afford a good one, and the last time you tried to buy a cheap guitar, the neck broke on the third use.

Because of these many happenstances (and the many more, less mentionable ones), you considered yourself unlucky. It was a fact of life for you as much as the sun's existence in other peoples lives, or that the superbowl was too long. Or guacamole wasn't good. Fortunately, the years of nothing ever coming naturally had made you into a fantastic worker, and by some rare stroke of luck, you found you were rather good at physical labor jobs. You weren't strong by any standards – in fact rather weak – but your attention to detail made you the janitor of a prestigious museum you visited twice as a child.

It wasn't a fantastic job, and the poor pay led to having five roommates, but you enjoyed yourself. You tried to do that in every aspect of life; finding the joy in menial tasks, or solace in duty. After all, you got to see wonderful recreations of history in the still wax figures, and learn heaps of knowledge from the many information panels you came across when making your way through the museum. The only truly unfortunate part of your job was the time – right after closing, but you had to finish quickly, as you weren't allowed inside at night. A stupid rule, but the night guard and Dr. McPhee were insistent on it.

They thought you didn't know about the exhibits.

They were, obviously, wrong. You knew, and you adored the magic behind it all. While you hadn't actually ever seen any of the exhibits come to life, you watched the news on an evening where the exhibits broke out, and with your knowledge of the Tablet curse, you pieced the mystery together.

You hadn't meant to take this long. McPhee was already pissed at you for 'accidentally' skipping over the men's restroom yesterday, and taking too long at your job would land you on thin ice, something you couldn't afford. With a hurried pace you finished sweeping the floors in the last room, storing the broom away and moving on to mopping. Checking your watch once more, you noted the time, mentally checking if you would be able to finish before closing hours.

Mopping the Egyptian room usually takes five to ten minutes, and closing is in two, you thought, despair settling in your stomach. What would you do if you 'found out' about the tablet? What would McPhee do if he found out you knew? He wouldn't fire you, would he?

You truly didn't know. He was a bit of a loose cannon when it came to those things.

As fast as you tried to move, the hours of night came faster than you could mop, and the tablet began to glow behind you. Bewildered you turned, watching with your mouth slightly parted as the glow grew to the radiance of the sun. You knew the tablet brought the magic, but you didn't know about the glow – now that you were witnessing it yourself, the only thing you could feel in your pounding heart was fear. A fear that only grew worse when the Pharaoh's sarcophagus began to rattle.

You'd thought about the wax figures coming to life. You thought about the dinosaur. You, however, did not think about the 4,000 year old mummy.

Needless to say, you bolted. Leaving behind your supplies, you ran as fast as you could, wind pounding past your ears as the sound of a lion's roar came from the neighboring hall. You grit your teeth and made for the main entrance, but by the time you got there many of the exhibits had adjoined in the main room. Pressing yourself against the locked door, you watched with wide eyes as the Teddy Roosevelt statue began to talk to Attila, and in that moment you realized that perhaps magic was not always good. Not when you were spiralling into a panic at least.

It took a couple hours of you staring into space before anyone actually noticed you. To your surprise, it wasn't the night guard, or even McPhee – it was a Pharaoh, skin and everything intact. His crown remained polished upon his head, a stark difference from the crowns on exhibit, whose colors and carvings had faded long ago.

"Hello," he said with a pleasant, polite smile as he knelt, matching the height of your seated position on the floor. "Are you a new exhibit?"

You looked down at your clothes. Janitor clothes.

"No," you said, and instantly his demeanor changed.

"Oh dear," he said, and though you agreed with that statement, you certainly did not agree with him grabbing your wrist and dragging you into the crowd.

"I don't really want to be doing this," you said in a shaky voice, but he did not answer.

As he dragged you through the crowd you kept your eyes closed, wary of overstimulation of both ears and eyes. He eventually stopped at the top of the stairs, where you opened your eyes to find the night guard, Larry.

"What are you still doing here?" Larry asked almost frantically, looking between the dancers below and you.

"In my defense I didn't want to be here, I knew about the magic and I don't – I didn't ever want to actually see it," you half-lied.

"How the hell did you know?!"

"You don't do a very good job of covering it up, Larry," you said flatly, your voice still cracking from nerves.

You didn't have very many friends. Your roommates didn't talk to you much, and the life you had outside of work consisted mostly of quiet, indoor hobbies you could do just about anywhere. So, once the whole of the situation was sorted out (with input from McPhee), you took your drawing pads and notebooks to the museum with you, working for the first few hours and drawing into the hours of night while watching history come to life.

Despite your original discomfort of being in the presence of a 100% authentic, come-to-life mummy, you became rather good friends with him. Not fantastic, and he didn't know very much about you, but he was kind and handsome. You hated to admit it, but he held your avid interest. Another one of those unlucky things in your life – of course you had to fall in love with an immortal, reanimated mummy who only came to life at night.

"Why don't you ever come dance with us?" Ahkmenrah (his name, apparently) said as he sat down beside you on the loft, the only barrier between you and a fifteen-foot fall being a stone rail.

"I'm afraid I'm not all that good of a dancer," you said, not bothering to look up from your sketchbook. You couldn't ever bear to look at him that long anyway.

"Neither am I," he laughed. "That's the point."

Instinctively you looked up at him, holding eye contact with his grey eyes for only a second before you looked away, a blush already making its way to your cheeks. He had the opposite of your life – lucky beyond belief. The favorite of his parents, completely immortal, completely beautiful, almost too wealthy, and many, many friends, including yourself.

What got you the most however was his eyes. Cold eyes were already praised in modern society – people loved grey, they loved blue and green. But in Ahkmenrah's society, the one that existed thousands of years ago, blue eyes hardly existed. The mutation for the new color was one in a billion back then, making him one of the (probably) three people on the planet with blue eyes. And now that lucky mutation stood before you in its purest, oldest form, and you couldn't bear to look at them for any longer than a solitary moment.

For some reason, it hurt you. Maybe because you were boring. Dull. Brown in a brown society. Sure, they looked beautiful in sunlight – you knew that. They turned into swirling gold and the taste of chocolate, but Ahk couldn't see them in the sunlight. That made you dull.

Now, Ahkmenrah was not a man to point things out about people. If they were being a dickhead, yes, but most of the time he noted things and dismissed them. But you'd been doing this for so long that he grew weary of the dance.

"Why don't you ever look at me?" He asked, a question that had your eyes widening and your back straightening, alarm bells ringing all over your brain.

"I look at you plenty," you said while avoiding his gaze like a 15th century doctor avoids respecting women.

"No, you don't," he said softly. "Not even now. I wish you would – you've got such beautiful eyes."

Your sketching stopped at his words. At your silence he placed his hand on your jaw, tilting so you looked at him. Instead of meeting his gaze you looked to the floor.

"They're very common," you got out weakly, still unable to make eye contact, but he kept you where you were, in the easy sight of him. "They only look good in the sun."

He shifted closer, keeping his hand on your jaw in hopes of you changing your mind and meeting his eye.

"Even in darkness they're beautiful, voids as empty and long as night," he hummed, drawing closer yet till you could feel the heat off his body on your still fingers. "I've noted them quite a lot. Eyes are a beautiful thing, aren't they?"

"Yours are," you mumbled, barely catching the meaning and insinuation of your words before they came out.

"As are yours. Remember when we snuck into McPhee's office? The lamplight bounced off of them and they practically glittered like the embers and smoke of a fire," he said with a small smile. "And the bright lights in the hallways –"

Florescent, you thought.

"– and the candle lights that Nick brought, those flicker with that same spark within you. Do you understand what I'm trying to say?"

You couldn't move, stuck in place and stuck in your own head.

"The golden fireplace, Christmas lights – and the light of the moon, a dim, faraway light that can only be admired from a distance... like you," he murmured.

Sometimes you forgot his people were poets and admirers of nature.

"You have blue eyes," you whispered through the knot in your throat. He listened carefully. "And... I can see reflections in them. They're soft, like velvet. Despite everything, they.. you seem... happy. You always seem happy, and your eyes give it away."

"Have you ever kissed anyone?" He asked quietly, and in that moment you realized his nose was almost touching yours.

"No," you answered honestly. Another unlucky aspect of you.

"Neither have I," he said before he leaned in, pressing his lips against yours in a tender embrace you weren't at all expecting.

From both the view of the first kiss and of a Pharaoh's kiss, you weren't prepared, but the plush of his pink lips against yours sent sparks of delight into your heart. He moved slow, taking his time to map out your aspects just as you began to trail your hands over his open palm, memorizing the creases. You were reluctant to part, but he ran his hand through your hair and your brain short-circuited into placitude.

"You have the softest lips," he murmured, hand coming to cup your cheek once more.

You never applied aquaphor or did anything to make your lips soft.

Maybe it was luck.

Didn't really matter to you, because he kissed you again, and your eyes fluttered shut as everything in the world but him faded away.

[fangirlincorporated-blog]

The Lucky Australian

~~ 19 Alive ~~

I wanted everything I never had

Like the love that comes with light

I wore envy and I hated that

But I survived

I had a one-way ticket to a place where all the demons go

Where the wind don't change

And nothing in the ground can ever grow

No hope, just lies

And you're taught to cry into your pillow

But I survived

 They remained under the air con waiting for he heat to pass, Aurora turning on her playstation to game with Henry. Henry noticed she much preferred survivalist horror, he watched her play a bit of dying light before Henry took over.

“It would make a great TV show” Aurora remarked, watching Henry try and escape a group of volatiles during a night mission, he had to admit, his heart rate and adrenalin were up, his hairs were standing to attention all over his body, it was unsettling and scary, but so addictive.

“I have to say, I didn’t really get too much time to get into it, but this is incredible, it’s not easy”

Aurora snorted. “That’s coz I play on nightmare mode”

Henry stole a glance at her.

“That’s hardcore”

Aurora beamed at him.

After a while, Henry noticed Aurora had fallen asleep next to him, her hands curled up underneath her face. Something caught his attention, pausing the game he looked at her arms.

There were white scars littered on them, some thin, some large. They were precise. Henry knew what they were.

He put the controller on the coffee table and hung his head. He felt so drawn out, so ripped from his skin, so weary down to his bones, so sad. All this he felt for her.

How unfair could life be to a person that only seemed to be a light in the darkness, how was she supposed to endure so much death and heartache and still consistently wake up in the fucking morning?

Henry felt the wetness of tears on his face. The burden of life seems so heavy for some, so light for others.

The never ending, continuous stream of emotion, was the pain his heart was feeling for her, as if it could simply reach out to her and out her all back together. For everything she endured, she was stronger than anyone he knew, but life shouldn’t have to throw that shit at you to make you strong. It shouldn’t have you drag you to a place where the demons go to build character. It shouldn’t have happened like that for her.

So why did it?

He cried for her. Her pain, her heartache, for everything she had been through. He cried because in the short time he knew her, he knew she deserved so much more than what life had given her. Yet, she was still here, she was still alive, still breathing, still waking in the morning next to him. Aurora had issues with her existence, she had not been fond of life, but henry was glad she was a living being.

Henry felt pickles nudge her furry little face under his hands. She looked up at him with her endless brown eyes. He smiled down sadly at her and gave her a scratch behind the ears.

“Its been a big day fluffy butt!” Slowly, he raised himself up off the couch and walked to the bathroom. Washing his face, he looked at his reflection in the mirror.

The women he had dated had been easier, this was all new territory, but somehow, he wasn’t shying away from her, from this. Henry knew he loved her, he knew she was all he needed and wanted. Still it didn’t take the sting out of the day.

He walked back into the lounge room to find Aurora waking up. She looked at the spot where Henry had been, confusion plastered on her still sleepy features. Hearing his footsteps she peered up at him and smiled. Holding out her arms, Henry all but ran into them.

He held her for a few minutes before she parted from him.

“Are you ok?”

“Yeah, I’m ok, it’s just an intense game. Went to wash my face”

Aurora stared at him, she knew he was lying but she didn’t push it.

“Well, since its 3pm, most of the out of towners would’ve gone home by now, wanna go for a swim? Then we can get a drink at the beach bar? Maybe dinner out?”

“That’s sounds nice. Although you have promised to make me some Italian food!”

Aurora rolled her eyes, a smirk on her face.

“I did, so let’s go to the beach, then I’ll make dinner!” she bounded off the lounge, going to the bedroom, Henry following her.

~~~~~~~~

October rolled into November, with December fast approaching. Henry had spent the whole month getting to know the area Aurora lived in, while she was at work. She had taken him hiking in the Blue Mountains many times, he was still amazed at the travel Australians undertook all the time. A 4-hour round-trip barely tiring her out as well as hiking, meanwhile Henry would be wiped out from the whole day. His favourite days though, were the ones he got to spend at the beach, or even just wandering around the place she lived, day drinking at a few different pubs, watching the ships roll in past the horizon. Or simply enjoying wherever she took him for lunch and dinner. He particularly enjoyed the day she took him to Sydney to Bennelong. Aurora had waxed lyrical about how amazing it was, and it did not disappoint. He had to admit; he was very rarely surprised by anything, now he understood why she had told him to dress up, the restaurant was in the Sydney opera house, with a view looking out at the harbour bridge. It was fucking spectacular. Henry had tried to pay once he figured out it was a fine dining establishment. Aurora has shut that idea down quite fast, given he had taken her out in Venice; this was the least she could do. It was quite sweet. They spent the night in Sydney, Henry had stayed at a few hotels in his travels, but Aurora had pulled out all the stops when he entered the room. The room overlooked the entire Sydney Harbour. It stopped him in his tracks, rendering him breathless. Henry spent that night making sure Aurora knew how much he loved her.

~~~~~~~~

Henry found himself sitting in Aurora’s office, answering mundane emails and going over scripts he had been sent, he could hear Aurora in the other room singing along to crowded house, a new favourite of his she had introduced him too. There was so much he had learnt about Aurora, her favourite band, her favourite games, her favourite sports teams (of which he now followed by default and she had promised to take him to a game come the start of the season), pet hates, favourite ice cream. He came to really love Australia; it was going to be hard to leave. Everything he loved was here.

Suddenly, a video call came through. Noticing it was Charlie, he picked up.

“Are we getting you back to the northern hemisphere?” Charlie asked.

“Fuck no, not when you look as cold as you do! Canada in the minus yet?”

“Unfortunately. More snow too, so how is the land down under?”

“Fucking glorious, it’s so hot, but I love it! Air conditioning is the most amazing thing ever invented.”

Charlie rolled his eyes “you make it sound like it’s the worlds greatest invention you’ve never heard of. You have that in England, and in Florida. You know the other place you also live?”

“It’s not as good in England. I know, but here it’s just on all the time. I really love it here; I’m only a 5minute walk to the beach. We sat a pub the other day watching ships come in, that has to be my new favourite hobby” Henry smiled

“Wow, and here I thought it was hammertime”

“War hammer Charlie!”

“Same, same. Since I haven’t spoken to you much in a month, did you end up finding out what happened with Aurora’s last relationship? I know you were worried.”

“Charlie, hold on.” Henry got up to close the door. He sat back down and told Charlie everything that had happened.

 Henry lost track of the time he and Charlie had been talking. It was nice to be able to talk to one of his brothers. He hadn’t realised how heavy things had weighed on his heart, Charlie listening to him lessened the burden. Another call came in, from his manager.

“Charlie, I gotta go, Dany is calling”

“As long as you’re ok?”

“I am Charlie, I do really love her.” He watched Charlie smile. Saying their goodbyes, he answered Dany.

“Henry, I have an invitation to the Oscars, can you be stateside in Feb?”

“Sure. Add a plus one for me?”

Dany perked up at that

“So its serious with the girlfriend? I have to say; I’ve only seen a few photos of you in Europe with her, and one of you in Sydney. I didn’t know she was Australian. How have you stayed away from the paps for so long?”

“She lives near the beach, it’s a beautiful little place, nice area, I don’t think they give a shit really, plus its almost 2 hours from Sydney, no paps will travel that far.”

Dany nodded.

“Is she prepared for what’s about to happen?”

“She’s already explained things to me for when that does happen, which I need to talk to you about next time I see you. I will do my best to help her through everything, she might not even agree to the Oscars” Henry sat back and folded his arms.

“Why? Would she be uncomfortable? Does she not have a dress?”

Henry’s eyes snapped to her closet.

“I think she has a dress, ill get back to you.”

“Alright, speak soon”

Henry hung up the call, and stood up, rolling his shoulders and stretching out his body, he walked out of the room.

[bucky-iss-bae]

Benefits of Running - Steve Rogers x Reader

A/N: I need to fix up my wiritng sooonnn

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Fandom: MCU/Marvel

Warnings: None 

Word count: 1200ish

Hope you all Enjoyyyy xoxo Feedback is always appreciated

Masterlist Fandom list

“Ugh, Y/F/N, I don’t want to go” You whined while lying in bed. It was 5am, on a Sunday. Your dear best friend and roommate decided, like every Sunday, that the two of you would go for a run. Some days you got away with not going, other days, not as much.

“Come on, I’ll treat you to a Starbucks after” Your friends suggested,

You grumbled and sat up, “It’ll take more than a Starbucks. I want some doughnuts and cake” You said stretching. “Give me five minutes and I’ll be ready”

They grinned at you, leaving your bedroom door open as they left.

You went to grab a sports bra, and some running leggings and got changed. Minutes later you left the room, ready to join your friend, and tying your hair up.

“Its still dark outside, I literally got to sleep like 3 hours ago. So, after my coffee, and doughnuts, I will be going sleep again” You told your friend,

“Sure hun, now let’s go” We both went outside to stretch before starting your stretching.

You always had the same running route, and saw the same people, one man in particular that you did like to get a good look at was Steve Rogers.

These morning runs, he was the man that you consistently got a good look at, and it definitely done something for your motivation.

He always smiled and nodded before running on ahead at the speed of a car.

This morning was no different, you and your friend were jogging, and there he in all his Captain America glory running past you,

“Excuse me sweetheart” He mumbled as he brushed past you, looking back and winking at you.

You smiled at him and continued on, seeing him ever 20 minutes.

The interaction between the two of you never went further than that. Although sometimes he saw you complaining and lagging behind your friend, often calling out to pick up the pace in a joking way. He always brightened your horrible morning from being dragged out of bed.

“That was good” Your friend said as they took out their earphones, “Why do you look like youre dying though?”

“Be… because… shi-shit man” You wheezed taking a moment, “I hate you”

Your friend just snicked at you and your lack of stamina, they ran every day, and only dragged you out on the weekends.

“I need to get to work soon. Are you going to go grab your coffee, or you coming back in?” They asked,

“Coffee, doughnuts, food. You have fun at work” Despite it being a Sunday, Chefs never really had weekends off.

Your friend went back inside as you walked towards you favourite bakery that served the best doughnuts. It was too far from where the two of you lived, a nice enough walk, especially at 7am on a Sunday.

When you got there, you could see the fresh goodies in the window before walking in. you knew you were defiantly going to go home with a big breakfast for yourself.

“I can’t believe you’re eating cake. At 7am. After a run” You heard a deep masculine voice say, you thought for a moment they were talking to you, you were ready to find out why someone was stalking you, as well as ready to give them a lecture of how any sweet treat was a blessing no matter the time of day, nor did it depend on your previous activities.

You turned to see none other than Steve Rogers himself talking to one of his friends.

As you looked at the trio, they all looked you, you couldn’t help but go bright red as you turned back around to look at the doughnuts and cake in front of you while internally cringing.  

“Hey, she’s that girl that we see. The one who hates running. Hah Buck she’s a bit like you”

You jaw dropped at that comment, you wanted to say something, but it was true. You were grateful that your earphones were in. Maybe they’ll think you can’t hear them. Hopefully.

“Yeah that’s her. Now might be the best time to talk to her Steve” You heard a third voice say.

Why did Steve want to talk to me? What have I done? Wait he doesn’t know me, so why would he want to talk to me.

“How do I just approach someone and talk to them?” You heard him ask,

“Easy, go up there and start a conversation. Better be quick before someone serves her”

But before Steve could approach you someone did come to serve you; you took your earphones out before asking for 4 cup-cakes and 4 doughnuts and a mocha. You still wanted to sleep after this. But then you realised how fat you sounded, 4 of each.

“Guess I’m not the only one who wants to eat Cake at 7am after a run” you heard someone say, you couldn’t help but turn and smile slightly, still bright red. You weren’t sure from what at this point.

After paying and being given your cakes you had to walk past the trio to leave the coffee shop.

As you were that was when who you to believe was Sam stopped you, “Hey, you’re the girl that goes running right” He said to you,

“Yeah… wouldn’t really call it running though. More like trailing behind my friend who likes to run. I think I saw you guys this morning” You smiled at them,

“Yeah, Steve mentioned he saw you, didn’t you Steve” Sam said nudging Steve, “By the way I’m Sam, that’s Bucky, and this gent right here is Steve Rogers”

You nodded and smiled, “Nice to meet you guys, I’m Y/N”

“Y/N? That’s a nice name.” Sam Commented, “Don’t you think so Steve. Steve also likes your name” Sam said, with a grin,

“Um yeah… Hi Y/N, a very nice name…”

Steve was stood there looking so out of place, but at the same time not entirely uncomfortable.

“Oh look at that, Buck and I are next, we’ll leave you kids to talk” Sam said pulling Bucky away to order what they needed to.

“I was wondering Y/N, and don’t feel pressured, but would you like to get dinner with me at some point? Talk a bit more than just passing one another while running”

You laughed at that and nodded, “Sure, did you want my number?” You asked him,

His whole face brightened at that, “Yeah, that would be great. Sorry about Sam by the way, although if it wasn’t for him, I probably wouldn’t have gotten further than speaking to you whilst passing by”

You giggled at that while exchanging numbers, “Considering you’ve only ever seen me at my worst. I’m surprised you would even want to talk to me more than that. But text me, or call me if you want. And we can set something up” You grinned at him.

“Perfect. Sounds good, thank you Y/N, hopefully see you soon. And not on a run”

Your cheeks were still slightly pink as you said bye, but for once, you didn’t regret waking up at 5am to go on a run. Especially since you saw the one and only Steve rogers, and better than that, you got asked on a date.

[whathappenedtomyweekend]

It’s Just A Spark Ch. 9 - Night Shifts

Gobber couldn't believe his eyes. What had originally started as a casual glance out the window had spiralled and now consisted of him staring down at the sight on the street in front of the fire department in parts fascination and parts complete and utter disbelief.

There he was, his colleague who might as well be his own son, the boy with the gapped front teeth and the scraped knees, the young man who was so busy reading that he forgot to eat sometimes, and the man who had told him, only a few months ago, that if his fate was to become an old cat lady it would be fine with him - beaming at the young woman facing him. She had blonde hair, tied up to a ponytail and was dressed, similarily to him, in sports clothes. They were still talking as they came to a halt in front of the building, both smiling at each other.

And of course, Gobber knew that this was Astrid Hofferson.

He watched Hiccup - Hiccup - grin down at her and gently press his lips to her cheeck (Gobber almost had a heart attack), then shortly hug her and turn around to walk up to the building, still grinning from ear to ear.

Well. Gobber remembered the first time the young woman had set her stove on fire. He remembered the exact expression Hiccup had had on his face and the way his eyes were flickering to the side when he'd mumbled something about his ears only being "this red, Gobber, because we were just near a fire, it was hot in there" after they had already been outside again for at least five minutes.

Gobber tried to act normal as the door opened and closed with a click.

"Morning!"

"Well, well, well, look who finally decided to show up to work!"

Hiccup placed his phone and headphones onto his desk, ducking away from Gobber's prosthetic arm.

"Sorry, I got held up."

"Yeah, I could see you getting held up alright - in the arms of a certain young blonde, I believe?"

He watched Hiccup's cheek flush and laughed, giving him an enthusiastic pat on the back.

"Was about time, boy! You were one arm and three cats away from becoming me."

Hiccup snorted, "Yeah, right. Don't think having a girlfried will deter me from adapting that lifestyle."

There were not many things you could get past Gobber without noticing. And words, no matter how fast- or low-spoken were definitely not on that list.

"Girlfriend now, eh?"

"I, uh - I mean - oh, man."

Hiccup looked at him, a bewildered expression on his face as if he'd only realised this for himself just now, his hands already flying up to his hair.

"Ooh my God, Gobber, she's my girlfriend. She's my girlfriend," he repeated as if this alone had been something he had never thought to actually be possible.

"Oh, boy," the older man chuckled upon seeing Hiccup's disbelief change to surprise to complete and utter joy.

"Astrid. Hofferson. Is. My girlfriend."

"Yeah, how'd you do that? I'm surprised you're able to hold up a conversation with that vocabulary you've got yourself, boy."

Hiccup had not really thought about this earlier when Astrid had accompanied him back to work instead of his apartment, but now, standing in front of his locker next to the bathroom, his only options for the monthly meeting with the mayor and comissioners a crumpled-up old shirt with Toothless' handiwork at the hem and gym shorts, he regretted not having stopped by at his apartment prior to this.

The young man uttered a curse on his breath but knew he didn't really have time to explore any further options.

So he quickly grabbed the shirt, returned to the bathroom and pulled it over his head, stepped out of his towel and put the remaining clothes on.

He couldn't wait until this day was over. The morning run had energised him, but a nine-hour response-shift ahead and a two-hour meeting were already pretty high on the list of things that would use up that energy.

Thinking about said run - or rather, its aftermath- , however, sent his heart spiralling and made him grin at his reflection in the department's bathroom mirror.

She'd said yes. To being his girlfriend, essentially. Or had she? Had she misunderstood him and had only agreed to an extended status of "just dating"?

Oh, God. Suddenly Hiccup didn't feel all that confident anymore.

"Okay," He leaned on the edges on the sink and stared at his ruffled, still wet-haired reflection. "Stop it. Get it together. Just ask her tomorrow, just to clarify."

Yes. Just to make sure they were on the same page.

His thoughts went - in an effort to take his mind off the question of their 'status' - over the preparations left to be made for their date. He'd have to sweep the flat over before 15:30, and clean the bathroom thoroughly. Also maybe dust off the shelves. Get something to wear - oh, no. He remembered his last confrontationnwith his wardrobe situatuon.

This was their fifth date.

He was out of shirts.

Shit.

"Hey, Gobber, you ready to-" Hiccup broke off when he saw Snotlout at his desk, waving at him.

"Yo."

Hiccup stepped in further, furrowung his brows in confusion.

"Where's Gobber?"

"Went to get lunch."

"What? The meeting's in five minutes, and we're already running late! When did he leave? Did he say anything about when-"

"Woah, take it easy, cuz," his cousin interrupted him lightly and spun his chair around. "Gobber's been late to these meetings since they exist."

Hiccup exhaled and chuckled, sitting down next to the dark-haired man.

"Okay, true. How's your morning been?"

"It was okay. Pretty chill. I took Hooky out for our morning walk - did you know Fish is out of town?"

Hiccup's head perked up. "He is?"

"Yeah, the café's all closed up."

"Huh. No, he didn't mention," Hiccup leaned on his desk and squinted his eyes at his cousin. "He usually always lets us know."

"Maybe something urgent came up and he's not ready to talk about it yet?" Snotlout wondered aloud and leaned back in his chair, staring up at the ceiling. "I hope he comes back soon, I could kill for a plate of his waffles."

Hiccup smirked. "He'd kiss you again if you told him that in person."

He knew his cousin would never admit it if he asked, but it was quite obvious, even to Hiccup. Snotlout himself blushed, grumbling,

"It happened once, okay? And it obviously didn't mean anything to him, since he never brought it up again. SO," he pushed himself back and reached for his water bottle, fiddling with the lid with some degree of suppressed fury. "I'm not going to either."

"Alright, sorry."

His cousin sighed, his mood lightening up again. "It's okay. Just don't … tell him."

"You have my word."

"Speaking of which, you finished up those reports from last night?"

Hiccup chuckled. "Yup. I'm back on track." His cousin smirked, raising an eyebrow. "Despite being 'busy'?"

"Shut up."

He laughed. "Come on, nobody ever tells me anything anymore."

"Good," Hiccup shot back indignantly but grinned. "I'm not really keen on all of Berk knowing about it."

"So what's 'it'?"

"Honestly? You think I'm that unattentive?"

"When you're drawing, yeah."

Something about the smirk that was plastered on his cousin's lips seemed fishy to Hiccup. He did not like this grin.

"Scott," he drawled. "What did you do?"

His cousin's grin widened. "Oh, I did nothing. I just *sat* there. Listen, all I'm sayin' is, that maybe you should pay more attention to who else is in the room in the evening."

Hiccup blushed immediately as he remembered being in the common room in the evening, reading until he had absentmindedly started sketching - a pair of eyes, grey on paper but blue in memory, lips, just slightly parted, outlines of a face - "Oh, God," he spluttered. "I - it wasn't - I mean."

Snotlout laughed and nudged his cousin's shoulder. "Hey, I'm not judging."

He offered Hiccup an amicable smile and grinned when his cousin slumped his shoulders and returned the smile.

Who'd have thought? Seven years ago he'd have never even dreamed of sharing the same job with Hiccup and spending most of their shifts together, let alone having normal, amiable conversations and sharing jokes.

Gobber's voice from outside interrupted the dark-haired man's thoughts.

"Come on, Hiccup, we're gonna be late!" Gobber suddenly shouted from the hall, making Snotlout laugh and offer Hiccup a fistbump.

"Alright, I'm coming, just - stay where you are!" Hiccup shouted back rolled his eyes at his cousin, who only grinned and shrugged.

"Alright, I think we're done here, everyone. Dismissed," Stoick Haddock concluded and closed his folder, nodding at the men seated around him.

Hiccup sighed inwardly. The monthly check-in was something that had to be done, he knew that, but these meetings could be both lengthy and boring.

He'd tried to excuse his attire and had only got a few amused looks and some raised eyebrows; 'Could've been worse,' Hiccup thought and got up. At the sight of his father gathering up his files he remembered his post-meeting-agenda and quickly tapped his father's shoulder, lowly asking, "Dad, can I … talk to you for a sec?"

"Of course," Stoick nodded at the other men and led his son off to the side. "Excuse us."

His eyes met Hiccup's expression. The young man leaned in and murmured, "Hey, Dad, listen, um. I need you to do me a favour, please."

His father raised his eyebrows but Hiccup didn't fail to notice the faint smile playing on his lips. He sighed and inhaled deeply, shortly raking a hand through his hair.

"Oh man, I can't believe I'm actually saying this - Dad, I need a shirt."

"You need a … a what?"

His father looked at him, speechless. Hiccup nodded sharply and elaborated, "Yes, a shirt. Any colour, I just need - listen, Dad, Astrid is coming over tomorrow and I've run out of shirts, and I can't just wear the same over and over again, so - please. I just need a shirt or two, button up or down, you decide, I'm desperate."

To his suprise and utter mortification, his father let out a whoop of laughter, starting him and the other men in the room.

"She's really got you bedazzled, aye, son?"

"I - what?"

"I thought I'd never see the day you'd ask me to help you with your shopping!" his father bellowed, still laughing. "Oh, this is great, son, I've been waiting for this my whole life-"

"Dad, don't you think you're … overreacting, a bit-"

"-and I will not waste this opportunity. Consider your wardrobe situation saved."

With this he strode past him, muttering something about "my boy's finally getting his life together" and "wrapped around his finger, completely head over heels", leaving an abashed Hiccup and chuckling collegues behind.

"Well, you did it," Gobber laughed and patted his back, making Hiccup stumble forward involuntarily. "he will not rest until he's got you a month's worth of clothing."

Hiccup groaned. "What have I done, Gobber?"

"Made him the most excited I've seen him in years, you did," Gobber smiled, his expression gentle now. "Come on, let's get back to the department, lover-boy."

"Please don't call me that."

"Romeo?"

"Tragic death and stupid as fuck."

"That a yes?"

"No."

It hit Hiccup like a bolt of lightning. He'd forgotten to fill up Toothless' bowl when he'd left the house this afternoon.

"Shit. Shitshitshitshit," he spat through gritted teeth as he frantically searched for options. He couldn't leave the department now, he was the only one in.

Okay. What else? Call someone. It was at times like these Hiccup wished his entire support system wasn't built on people working in the administrative departments.

And Fishlegs was out of the city.

Then it dawned on him. The only person he could hope to be home.

His hands had already picked up his phone and clicked on the number.

"Hiccup?"

He exhaled. "Oh, thank God. Astrid, do you - do you have time? Are you at home?"

Her answer was hard to make out over the background-voices and music.

"I'm on my shift, why?"

His heart sunk.

"Okay, nevermind then-"

"Hiccup? Hello - hang on, I'll go outside, just give me one sec."

The noise faded.

Her voice got clearer as she grumbled, "You'd think people'd wait for a Friday 'til they hit the bar."

He chuckled. "I'd honestly love to be somewhere else right now, so I can't blame them."

Astrid snorted and finally there was nothing blocking out her voice anymore. "Trust me, you don't wanna be here. Anyways, what's up? Something wrong? You never call this late."

"Oh - yeah, I actually … Astrid, can you do me a favour?"

She didn't even hesitate and her answer let a wave of warmth and affection wash over him.

"What do you need and where should I be?"

"At my apartment. Or rather, first here and then my apartment."

Astrid furrowed her brow, for a second asking herself if this was some kind of disguise for something else but quickly discarded that thought as Hiccup continued quickly, "I forgot to feed Toothless when I left today and I locked everything, so he can't go out to hunt. Could you pick up my keys and feed him, please?"

She hummed. "Yeah, of course."

Hiccup sighed and smiled. "Thanks, I really owe you one."

Astrid laughed breezily and was apparently making her way back inside. From what he could hear, Pink's 'Raise your glass' was playing and people were screaming.

"No problem," he heard her say over them. "I'll think of something."

He chuckled and leaned on his desk.

"You have until tomorrow."

"Oh, so now there's a deadline for favours?"

"Only for that one."

She laughed again. "Well, maybe it's a project that can't be done overnight."

"Am I still talking to Astrid or Ms Hofferson who just pulled the ultimate teacher-joke on me?"

"Both. Hang on a second."

The sound was muffled since she seemed to be pressing the microphone against herself to block out the sound, but he still heard her distinct voice shout, "Heath, can you tell Al I'm taking my break? Be back in 45."

Another voice answered, loud but friendly, "Sure, don't worry. Gotcha, Stellar!"

Stellar?

The sound was back in its full intensity and so was her voice.

"Alright, I'm heading out. Be there in ten."

"Okay. See you."

Astrid smiled up at the sky. "You know, this isn't even a favour I'm doing you. You're doing me one."

Although she had called it multiple times, Astrid had never been inside the fire department of Berk before.

It looked a bit intimidating in the dark, and she only saw one big window with lights on inside. She squinted her eyes up and into the darkness and registered movement.

A slim figure approached the window, waving at her, chasing a smile across her lips as she waved back. Hiccup's sillhouette disappeared.

Astrid herself made her way into the building and up the staircase to the second floor, where she was greeted by a dark hallway.

A door was pried open, a small ray of light emitting from the crack.

"Astrid?" His face was stuck out of the open door.

"Hiccup? Why's it so dark in here?"

"We're saving up energy."

He was leaning out of the door, supporting his weight by the frame.

Astrid smirked and came to a halt in front of him. He didn't move, just stayed with his eyes fixed on her.

The young woman felt a weird sensation rushing through her stomach as she remembered her dream from a couple of nights ago, which had started just like this, opening a door and -

"You wanna come in for a sec?" he asked and interrupted her thoughts.

Astrid nodded, smiling. "Let's make the workplace situation even."

He laughed and led her inside. The building itself wasn't that big, but the headquarters seemed pretty spacious. There were only three desks inside with multiple screens, and by the wall stood an unsafe-looking plank bed.

"Welcome to my job where we get Sicca Syndrome and a bad back trying to sleep on these," he joked and ran a hand through his hair.

Astrid sat down on the plank bed, wincing as it squeaked and bent violently, making him laugh as he sat down next to her.

Without giving herself much time to hesitate, Astrid leaned against him and rested her head on his shoulder.

"Do we have enough time for me to ask you what your day looks like?"

He chuckled and gently wrapped his arm around her, trying not to let on that he was shaking slightly, thankful she still had her eyes closed so she wasn't able to see his blush.

"Maybe. We could save that conversation up for tomorrow, though."

She opened her eyes and moved to get up, but Hiccup tightened his grip around her shoulders and grinned lopsidedly.

"That wasn't me trying to tell you to immediately get up. It's …" he hesitated, his blush deepening. "It's, um, really nice sitting like this. With you."

Astrid chuckled lightly and leaned back into him, nuzzling her head into the crook of his neck.

"You're really trying to outdo yourself today, huh?"

Her voice was muffled against his skin, her breath sending sparks down it.

"Is it working?"

Astrid grinned against him. "Yeah."

The young man laughed and tried to calm his heart yet again. To think that only sitting with her head on his shoulder, her lips making direct contact with his skin when she spoke was enough to turn him into a flustered mess. And they hadn't even KISSED yet.

"I'm beginning to regret this."

He froze, his heart dropping immediately. Regret what? This? Her decision from earlier? Being alone with him? Out of a sudden? Somehow?

Of course, his logical side knew better than that and patiently waited for Astrid to continue - his worry got the better of him.

"Why?"

"Because now going back to my shift is going to be really fucking hard."

'Oh. Oh, thank God.' He exhaled and relaxed again.

"Why?" he repeated, feeling stupid.

Astrid closed her eyes again. "Because I'd much rather be here and spend the night with you than going back."

Aaaand there it was. His pulse was sky-rocketing. And she was so close she might actually hear. His blush had deepened even more.

Astrid continued after a pause, "Or you know, I could just crash at your apartment and cuddle with Toothless."

He rasped out a laugh. "If you let me in tomorrow."

Astrid opened her eyes and pursed her lips to hide her smile.

"We'll see."

Hiccup really wanted to kiss her. He wanted to so bad it almost hurt.

Yet, there was something holding him back - the question from earlier. But he didn't want to bring this up now. Especially not since-

"Speaking of Toothless, I should probably get going now."

"Oh, y-yeah! Uh," he uncurled his arm from around her and jumped up, stumbling towards his desk. "Let me just … find the key … uh. Should've probably done that earlier."

"Let me help. I've got a knack for finding things."

She joined him at the desk and grinned when he shot her a short, amused glance.

"You do?"

"Oh, yeah. I found you, so that's one."

Hiccup chuckled and watched her pull out his keys from underneath the printed draft of the day's report and hold it up in front of him, grinning smugly.

"And you say I'm trying to outdo myself?" he muttered, making her laugh.

"Well, now we're even."

He shrugged and grinned. "True. You remember the direction?"

Astrid nodded, leaning against the desk.

"Good. Ah, and uh, mind the door, it always gets stuck, so it's a bit hard to open. Just, uh, throw your entire body weight againt it. At least that's what I do."

She nodded again and smiled up at him. "Jot that down. Anything else? Where's the food?"

"Second left cupboard by the window on the floor. You know, the one with the scratches?"

She snorted as she remembered which one Hiccup was talking about - and it seemed like he was either very forgetful or had a cat that loved to eat.

"Alright, got it."

"Thanks again, Astrid."

Somehow they had ended up facing each other, his hands on her arms.

Hiccup's gaze fell down on his hands and his first instinct was to let go, but Astrid smiled and put her own hands on his arms, squeezing lightly.

"You're welcome. But - by the way, where's everyone else?"

"Oh, Gobber's already home and Scott went for a quick nap down in the living area. He complained that my typing was too loud for him to sleep."

She snorted. "Well, at least you've got the place to yourself, right?"

His hands subconscuiously had wandered to her waist.

"I'd rather not. But I'm a bit picky about the company."

"That so?"

He hummed, his eyes dropping to her lips ever so shortly. He looked like he was almost going to lean down and kiss her - but there was something in his eyes Astrid knew well by now.

Hesitation. Something was holding him back.

Astrid smiled and pulled back slightly.

She'd give him time.

Until then … she stood on her tip toes and kissed his cheek.

"I'm gonna get going now. Don't wanna keep Toothless waiting."

She grinned up at him and was relieved when he returned it.

"Yeah."

She turned to leave but was held back by his voice softly calling out her name.

"Oh, and … Astrid?"

She hummed, turning around, already halways out the door.

With a few steps he had closed the distance between them. His eyes were warm as he gently wrapped his fingers around her left wrist, tugged her closer and pressed a lingering kiss on her forehead.

Astrid's eyes fluttered closed at the contact.

"Stay safe tonight," he whispered, his lips barely grazing her skin before he pulled back.

Astrid opened her eyes again and was met with his open expression and small smile.

She returned it tenfolds and whispered back, "You too."

Then she turned around and took the stairs downstairs.

Fires and people had a lot in common, but most people could be either reasoned with or at least punched (which was her own interpretation). Then again, her boyfriend was not the type to underestimate a thing like a fire.

Astrid stopped, her hand on the doorhandle. Boyfriend. She'd thought 'boyfriend'.

The air was a tinge colder when she stepped outside, but still had the distinct warmth of a summer night.

Well, he was, wasn't he? It was what he'd asked her this morning, wasn't it?

Astrid smiled to herself and maybe the sky, Hiccup's keys clinking in her pocket.

This was a very girlfriend-thing to do, after all.

[chickensarentcheap]

Never Gonna Be Alone

A Tyler Rake/Established Female OC fic

Summary: A lot changes in five years. Now a family of nine, the Rakes are splitting their time between Australia and New York City. With Dhaka nothing but a distant yet still painful memory and the dirty work mostly behind him, Tyler is healthy and thriving. Not only as a husband and father, but as the acting founder and boss of his own mercenary business and co-owner of his wife's well loved and flourishing bookstore. But while love and domestic happiness abound, the past and its secrets are never far behind.

Huge thanks and tons of love to @tragiclyhip​ for never letting me give up! It’s thanks to her I ever actually finished off the last fic, or started this one.  And she also made my incredible banner! <3 <3 <3

Warnings: none

Tagging: @c-a-v-a-l-r-y​, @alievans007​, @innerpaperexpertcloud​, @tragiclyhip​

Prologue

FIVE YEARS LATER

******

The stand sits fifteen feet above ground and wraps halfway around the gnarled and twisted trunk of a centuries old Kapok tree. No hunter has made use of it in years; the stairs leading upwards weakened by harsh weather and neglect, wood cracking and bowing under the soles of well worn combat boots. Despite the added weight of gear and a kevlar utility vest, long legs and a wide stride make it easy to navigate the missing steps. His movements are purposeful and quiet; careful to avoid even the slightest snap of a twig or the rustle of dried and fallen leaves or the scratch of dirt and pebbles against the pitted and fragile wood. Any sound is a detriment in this environment; the lush and dense landscape so eerily still and silent that even a hint of noise would seem deafening. The slightest of movement has the potential to stir up the wildlife, which in turn would draw unwanted attention upwards from the banks of the Mekong River.

Even under the thick and expansive umbrella of the forest the heat is stifling. Humidity oppressive and choking. A thin layer of sweat gathers on his brow; errants droplets burning his eyes and gathering on the ends of his lashes. His shirt -long sleeved to not only provide cover in the jungle but protect from scrapes and cuts and the burn of the sun- nearly soaked right through; darkened patches under the arms and at the small of the back, the fabric clinging to dampened and slick skin. Fine beads settle around his mouth, and when he drops into a crouch at the top of the stand, he swipes his tongue over his top lip in an effort to clear away the sweat. It had been an hour hike through the jungle; moving swiftly and silently as he listened to directions being given through a transmitter he sports in his left ear. It’s sweltering and he’s thirsty; head pounding and his hands begin to tremble as the beginning stages of dehydration begin to settle in. He takes the time to remedy the situation. Shrugging off the rucksack slung over his left shoulder and dropping it onto the floor of the stand; hands shaking yet able to tear open the zipper. There’s two bottles of water packed in amongst the gear; extra pairs of socks in case of treks through swamps and marshes, two full clips of ammo that will only be used if someone on the other side is able to pinpoint his location and launch a full scale and fully armed search.

He hopes it doesn’t come to that.

Downing half a bottle of water, he uses the remains to cool himself down; splashing a handful of the liquid against his face and then dumping the rest over his head. Ten years ago, the elements wouldn’t have bothered him as much; he would have been thirty seven years old and still in relatively good shape. Physically AND mentally. And despite a consistent and punishing routine of heavy lifting, core training, and cardio, he’s definitely feeling the effects of both age and decades of hard and often dangerous living. Knees stiff and aching from the brisk hike over rough terrain and then through mud and thick brush; the arthritis that takes up residence in the small of his back and the right hip making its presence known. He’ll be sore tomorrow; every step he takes will send pain shooting through him, and for the next week he’ll wonder just why the hell he ever said ‘yes’ in the first place. Each stiff movement and slow step and aching muscle will remind him of just how things HAVE changed over the years. Gone are the days when he could skip a few days sleep; able to function on both little rest and minuscule amounts of food and drink. There’s no way he’d be able to do THAT now; push his body to the limits he’d been testing for so long. That man no longer exists. The one that would take the most dangerous and unpredictable jobs in hopes of catching a bullet. Who’d almost pray, beg and plead each and every time he went out that it would be his last; one sniper’s shot away from finally being put out of his miserable existence.

Things changed, of course. When he’d been least expecting them to. There’s way too much to lose now. It’s why every decision he makes now...every movement...matters so much. Even the smallest of mistakes can change the course of the future; one misstep potentially blowing his cover and leading to his untimely -and likely extremely brutal and bloody- demise. An hour away a helicopter waits for him; on standby to whisk him back to Vietnam and that little ‘hole in the wall’ hotel he’d been staying in. A quick shower and he’d back in the air; rushed to the nearest backwoods airport where a private jet would take him home. It’s been four days now; two spent in the planning stages before his first ‘hit’ in Laos and then the trek to Cambodia. Two for the price of one, Anil had said, although money matters very little now. These kinds of gigs are more a service; wiping out the dregs of society more of a gift to humanity than anything else.

He normally doesn’t take on jobs. A total of three in the past five years. This is the fourth AND fifth. The skills and the mindset quickly and effortlessly returning, the first kill a lot easier than he’d thought it would be. It’s like riding a bike; once the gun is in your hand and you’re peering through that scope, your finger easily finds and pulls the trigger. And this job had been impossible to turn down; the dirty and vile details hitting home and preying on his ‘human side’. Anyone in his position as a husband and father would have been enraged and disgusted. Drug runners and weapons smugglers that moonlight in abusing and torturing their wives and exploiting children. Sometimes even their own. People that evil don’t deserve to live; even a bullet between the eyes considered too kind. But it’s all he has time for. No ‘face to face’ meetings. He can’t be seen or even identified by name in order to protect his OWN family. He has to remain a ghost. An urban legend of sorts. Talked and gossiped about in drug circles and even among the local police and military who’d either been paid off by the criminals or had been hopeless and hapless when it came to stopping the activity. Nothing will be known about him. No glimpse of his appearance, no chance to hear his voice or even know his name. He’ll be known for just those ‘lucky shots’ he’d gotten in. Turned in to nothing more than rumours and speculation that will continue spreading long after he’s gone.

***

“T...you there?” Yaz’ voice through the earpiece. The reception is spotty; words broken up by heavy static.

He uses a forearm to wipe the mixture of water and sweat from his face, then lays a finger against the transmitter clipped to his vest. “I’m here.”

“Hot out there today, isn’t it.”

He smirks, then begins pulling pieces of a semi automatic rifle from the confines of the rucksack; hands moving quickly and efficiently as they snap and twist the weapon together. “I don’t want to hear your bitching. You’ve got air conditioning. I’m the one out in this shit.” His voice is low and quiet as he speaks. Even the smallest of sounds can travel great distances; echoing through the jungle and making its way down to the banks of the Mekong.

The river sits fifty yards to the south; muddy and heavily polluted and dotted with boats belonging to local fisherman. One vessel stands out from the crowd. A large and expensive houseboat; the chrome that lines the powerful motor and makes up the railings on the top deck sparkling in the sunlight. His mark is inside; meeting with some of Anil’s people acting under the guise of weapons buyers. When the time is right, the man in question will be led out onto the bottom deck and he’ll have one shot to get the job done. It’s another reason Anil had personally sought him out; his marksmanship impeccable, no other employee coming close to possessing that level of skill.

“You good?” Yaz inquires.

“Yeah…” he snaps the magazine in place and then switches off the safety. “...I’m good.”

“I’ll let you know when there’s movement. Going silent for now.”

He tears off the lid of the second bottle of water and takes a single sip before setting it down; using his sleeve to wipe both the opening and every side of the plastic. He can’t leave any trace of himself behind. Not a drop of sweat or a hint of saliva or his fingerprints. He’ll wipe the stand down before he leaves; methodically cleaning anything he may have come in contact with. IF his location is discovered, money talks. Anyone remotely related to his mark will pay to get answers, and the police will take what’s offered and collect every shred of possible evidence. He can’t take that chance. A single, unattached person may not care. Had he still been the guy living in the rundown and beaten up shack in the outback, he wouldn’t have thought twice about covering his tracks. But lives depend on him. A wife and seven beautiful little humans that count on him to protect them and keep them safe.

He CAN’T fuck this up.

Up in the stand he’s well hidden; camouflaged by the abundance of thick, lush greenery. It’ll be a tough shot through twisted and tangled branches; not even a foot of clearance between wood and leaves. Depending on exactly where his mark is led, he’ll compensate for that; pulling to the right or left in order to prevent the bullet from getting too ‘dirty’. He’s made tougher shots; mostly in his SASR days. And there’s no doubt he’ll make this one.

He bunches up the ruck sack and places it near the edge of the stand, facing the river. He’ll use it as both a ledge and a form of cushioning; balancing the long barrel of the rifle will provide stability and muffle the sound of the shot, disguising where it had originated from. He winces as he gingerly lowers himself onto his stomach; the cracking in his hip and the soreness in both knee and shoulder reminding him that he’s not as young as he used to be. Forty-seven is ancient in mercenary years. Most never make it that far. The odd few get to retire peacefully, but the majority are taken out by a bullet; one too many lapses in judgment and the smallest of errors leading to their deaths.

But most never get to have what he does either. A normal life with a family that loves him ; thousands of miles away, anxiously awaiting his return. It’s why he’s so careful; every decision he makes and every action he takes is done with them at the forefront of his mind. And he thinks about them now; warm and safe in the confines of a townhome in New York City. Four days ago they’d travelled from Australia and he’d promised to meet up with them as soon as the job was finished. It’s their third Christmas there; an eight bedroom brownstone in Gramercy Park. The kids especially enjoy spending the holidays there. Quickly falling in love with the idea of a white Christmas and enjoying all of the outdoor activities; sledding and skating and seeing the tree at Rockefeller Centre and visiting Santa and the reindeer in Central Park. And while life in the Big Apple had never appealed to him, the draw of Gramercy had been impossible to resist. Quiet and quaint; tree lined streets and a private park and neighbours that mind their own business and don’t ask too many questions. He’d initially worried about standing out like a sore thumb; tanned skinned and the array of tattoos and scars and the ‘Down Under’ accent. It turned out to be everything he HADN'T expected. The feeling of small town life within an enormous city.

The back of his hand swipes at the locusts and mosquitos that hover close to his face; their buzzing and humming both tickling and irritating his ears. The right isn’t as good as it used to be; hearing slightly muted and distorted thanks to years of both firing and coming in close contact with weapons. It’s another drawback to getting old. Along with his eyesight. Needing glasses to read or to spend anytime staring at a computer screen.

“They’re on the move.”

He blinks sweat from his eyes and wipes his lips and chin on the sleeve of his shirt. Then he settles in; bending his left leg at the knee and wriggling his stomach against the wood beneath him. The latter is mind over matter; as if the simple movement and the way he presses the toes of boots against the stand will improve both shot and stability. His finger hovers over the trigger; other hand lightly supporting the barrel of the gun, allowing the rucksack to bear the majority of the weight. Anil’s people come out first; identified by the tan linen suits he’d been told they’d be sporting. The ‘Mark’ is a middle aged man, clad in casual attire; olive green cargo shorts and a simple white golf shirt. He’s short and stocky with greying hair and a noticeable limp; a run in with a rival drug crew years ago resulting in the amputation of his leg and the acquisition of a prosthetic device.

His jaw clenches and his lips settle into a thin, pursed line. His heart hammers in his chest and both his shoulders and his chest tighten. It’s adrenaline. That unmistakable rush that comes before an imminent strike. He remembers it well. And it’s both surprising and disheartening how much he’s actually missed it.

As they chatter and laugh, one of Anil’s men places a hand on the Mark’s back and ever so slightly turns the other man in Tyler’s direction. It’s all he needs; just enough of the Mark’s forehead to ensure a ‘kill shot’. And he takes it; the sound slightly muffled but still deafening as it echoes through the jungle and stirs birds from their perches and wildlife from the safety of their nests and dens. The bullet easily tears through layers of leaves and bypasses branches; finding its target and sending the Mark sprawling backwards and then down into a pool of brain matter, fragments of skull, and quickly spreading blood.

“Target’s down.”

The words are simple. To the point. And as chaos erupts down by the river, he calmly begins his retreat; pushing himself up onto his feet and slinging the rifle over his shoulder. There’s no pressing need or rush; Anil’s people have made their quick escape and the screams and shouts are coming from startled fisherman and colleagues of the Mark that had been inside the houseboat. He has time; methodically cleaning every inch of both the stand and the stairs and making sure he’s left nothing behind.

“I’m heading back,” he says, shouldering the ruck sack and taking the stairs two at a time. He’s suddenly anxious to get on his way; feeling the relief that sets in as he begins his hour long trek.

A smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. Not from the success of the mission or the satisfaction that comes with ridding the world of yet another monster. It’s one of happiness. One of peace.

The realization that each step he takes brings him closer to home.