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anemo-writes · 4 years ago

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hello travelers! again, thank you for putting up with my inactivity, it’s been hard to write lately haha. anyways, i thought this would be something fun to post and for everyone to enjoy, whether you celebrate Valentine’s Day or not :) (note: this will probably be more fanon than canon so please bear with me, i’ll make it as canon as it can be :’) i also kept this pretty short, so hopefully that’s okay too,, and sorry for this being late haha—i wrote this very late at night so don’t mind any typos you find please)

much love,

~ anemo-chan <3

(The Playable) Genshin Impact Characters on Valentine’s Day (Romantically)

super romantic; gifts you a bouquet of flowers and takes you out to eat at a fancy restaurant/cooks for you.

Diluc

He is nervous. He’s never paid close attention to the countless amount of people who have lined outside the tavern to ask him to be their Valentine, only to be rejected. There was absolutely no way that he would turn to Kaeya for advice, so unfortunately this was something he would have to figure out for himself. He figures that it wouldn’t hurt to go traditional, so that’s what he does; he buys a large bouquet of roses (which he had to get from Donna, seeing that at the hours that he ended work were very late and Flora’s shop was not open at the time—yeah, that was not fun) and presents himself outside your doorway, to which he invites you to join him for a late dinner—which he makes!

Lisa

She leaves a letter on top of your nightstand, paired along with a singular rose. The letter states for you to meet her outside of Good Hunter, where you find her sitting at a table with a candle dimly-lighting up the surroundings. She greets you with a warm smile, gesturing for you to sit down—the two of you enjoy a candle-lit dinner as well as bolognese she specially requested for Sara to make for the two of you to enjoy together why does this remind me so much of Lady and the Tramp,,

Tartaglia

Oh boy. It’s always a fun time spending a holiday with him, seeing that it could go two ways; one, he would be too busy to celebrate it with you on the day of, and he would take you out the day after, or two—have a store’s entire line of merchandise presented to you outside your doorstep, in which a very, very smiley Tartaglia hidden within the pile (after all, he was the best present!) After you’re done moving all of the gifts into your house (it took up the space of your entire living room), he tells you to cover your eyes and follow him. He takes you to one of the most well-known restaurants in Liyue (which currently doesn’t have a name because it is very late here!), and insists that you order whatever you want, and however much you want.

Zhongli

Over the years, he’s witnessed many, many couples celebrate this holiday and every year he’s wished to do the same. He finds the perfect opportunity to do so when Valentine’s Day is around the corner, and boy does he plan it out for the two of you. He’s even made sure to have his wallet on him at all times—it would be extremely rude for you to have to pay if he happened to forget his wallet. He makes sure to stop by to pick up a bouquet of flowers, as well as a bottle of perfume (not in a bad way, just to clarify) from Ying’er’s shop that he recalled you liked. He makes sure to pick you up early from your work place to make sure you made it to your appointment on time; after all, being late to an appointment was similar to breaking a contract, no?

surprises you with homemade sweets.

Fischl

Oh, she is so nervous—of course, she doesn’t show this. The entire week, she spent researching recipes to create a special batch of chocolate-dipped strawberries just for you—she even sent Oz to the nearby farms to “borrow” the freshest strawberries for the treat (the farmers were too scared to confront the talking bird who “borrowed” their strawberries, so luckily they got away with it). She dips them in a purple-colored chocolate (because what other color would she use, really?) and drizzles on a dark-chocolate syrup to top it off. She’s too shy to actually give it to you herself though, so she has Oz drop it off for her.

Ganyu

Even though she’s quite busy, she’s somehow found time to whip up a special batch of chocolate just for you! She shapes them into Glaze Lilies (which she found quite hard, which is why there are so few of them) and presents them to you in a neatly-sealed box. She’s quite modest when your eyes widen and tell her it’s the best chocolate you have ever eaten, claiming that she only followed a recipe, when she really made it from scratch.

Keqing

Like Ganyu, you have no idea how she finds time to create a perfect array of chocolates, which she made herself! However, with her tightly-packed schedule, she has to drop it off at your house in advance, to which you accept happily. She tried to decorate them with designs of cartoon-versions of your faces, but they’re a bit...messy. Nonetheless, they’re tasty, and to her relief, you enjoy them.

Mona

Somehow, she’s managed to scrape up enough mora to buy you a necklace; yes, a necklace, and a real one at that—none of that fake, costume jewelry stuff! She even added a pendant shaped like star, just so you could be reminded of her whenever you fiddled with it or even glanced at it. She’s quite flustered when she gives it to you, ignoring the way you ask how she managed to save this much mora to be able to buy something like this, changing the subject on how you should never-ever take it off (because it looks great on you.)

Noelle

One word: pancakes. (Have you seen the ones she makes for her special dishes? They’re frigging amazing) As a dutiful maid should, she wakes up especially early to prepare a homemade breakfast just for you, to which she serves to you just as your wake up in bed. The fluffy stack of pancakes are decorated with fruits cut up in heart-shapes, as well the words, “Happy Valentine’s Day, Y/N”, written neatly with chocolate syrup—it’s quite a sight to see, to be honest, and utterly delicious. Lucky you!

Xiangling

The day before, she tells you to meet her at the restaurant around noon. When you arrive, the restaurant is adorned with Valentine decorations, as well as a terrifying amount of food; she insists that she only made it for you, so you better eat up! Before she can show you the other dishes, the restaurant is suddenly filled with a strong, bitter smell—something burning. With a yelp, she runs into the kitchen, coming out a few minutes later with a tray of half-scorched cupcakes, their Gouba-shapes adorned with...a lot of burn marks. Oh well, it’s the thought that counts, doesn’t it?

buys/makes a present for you.

Albedo

Without your knowledge, Albedo has been creating a collection of artworks throughout all the time you had spent together. The pieces include portraits of you, portraits of you and him (sucrose helped with this), as well as just random sketches of the little things that remind him of you, such as the bare, snowy-white terrain where the two of you first met, as well as its flora and fauna. If you request it, he’ll even make the painting come alive (literally), and the two of you run to Sucrose’s dwelling, who is very shocked to see the pair of you running from a Frosted Lawachurl when she peered out her window to see if she could pinpoint the sounds of distant screaming.

Amber

Is there anything better than a matching set of wind gliders? Not only that—they were homemade! She spent the last couple of weeks putting together a pair of gliders for the two of you, customizing them to your tastes (which she nailed!) She quite literally drags you to the nearest hill to test them out, and the two of you end up challenging each other on who can get back to the Knights of Farvonius Headquarters the fastest—spoiler alert: she did.

Barbara

Oh, she would make the cutest card for you—the envelope is decorated with cute stickers (some of them even had her face on it; there’s nothing like promoting merchandise, am i right? jkjks) She also pairs it off with a box of chocolates that she bought from Sara—however, what she didn’t know was that in the box was a special-edition spicy chocolate truffle. With your luck, that was the first one you chose—and boy, were you met a surprise (it was so bad that you were begging Barbara to use her Vision on you, which she refused of course). Fun times.

Chongyun

He’s real sweet. After his expeditions and commissions, he opens the freezer (yes he keeps them in there, don’t judge him) to an array of ice sculptures, shapes varying from flowers, hearts, and such—although it’s quite the simple gift, he’s put a lot of effort into them, even putting in the extra effort to cast a spell to make sure they would not melt; it’s all worth though, when he sees the absolutely giddy expression on your face, and the look of pure awe as you pick one up and study it closely, admiring all of the details and work that’s he put in.

Ningguang

She sends out informants to find out what you like, whether it be something that your gaze settled on for too long or something you’ve mentioned while talking to her—on the day of, you open your door to a mountain of gifts, with Ningguang herself peering out from behind it with a calm smile and a wave (which was the opposite of your reaction, because who has that much mora to purchase all of these gifts?!?)

Razor

He doesn’t have a clue on what the holiday until Lisa asks him if he’s planned something for the two of you during one of his lessons. When he shakes his head no, Lisa suggests that he make you something, to which he sets out on an adventure to do, looking for flowers and flower stems to weave into a pair of matching bracelets—they’re not the prettiest, but he is pretty proud of it; after all, it was his first time making something like that. He’s quite nervous to present it to you, afraid that you might not like it, but all feelings of worry melt away when you slide it on with a huge smile on your face, insisting that he wears his too.

Sucrose

At first, she considers gifting you a present that she created herself; of course, with her work being alchemy, she isn’t sure if that would be the safest option, despite being talented herself. And so, she resorts to buying a present for you—she is very picky with the present though, insisting that it should be perfect since she could not make one herself. She even consults Albedo when selecting some of the presents (he doesn’t help her unfortunately; he believes that she should figure it out herself haha). Like Razor, she’s quite nervous to give it to you, but lets out a huge sigh of relief as you thank her happily for the gift, wiping a bead of sweat from across her forehead (sucrose bby anything you give us would be perfect,,)

whisks you away somewhere sentimental, where the two of you can enjoy a special date.

Beidou

It’s ungodly early in the morning when Beidou presents herself in front of your doorstep, announcing that you’ll be joining her and the crew on a special ride. She tugs you along beside her until you reach the harbor, where you are met with the sight of her ship adorned with streamers and banners, varying between shades of pink and red. Onboard, there is a table filled with goodies the crew collected and made, and boy do they look delicious. The group sets out to sea, and you take your place next to the captain, who even lets you steer the boat (momentarily, at least.)

Bennett

He takes you to meet his dads; yes, yes—he knows that it’s not the most romantic thing to do on a day dedicated to lovers, but he figures it’s just as important. Besides, they’ve been asking about you for quite a while—they even set up a small party within the Adventurer’s Guild, with the help of Bennett, of course. You spend the day listening to their old adventuring stories, as well as bits from Bennett’s childhood (poor boy is flustered from all the information his dads are spilling, but he’s still happy either way; after all, he’s with the most important people to him.)

Kaeya

He quite literally kidnaps you; one second you’re walking in the streets of Mondstadt on your way to work when suddenly someone grabs you by the waist and pulls you into an alley way (that sounds so creepy but i swear he means it in a good way). He only chuckles and shields himself with his arms as you punch him lightly, retorting that he scared you. He doesn’t care that the two of you have an overwhelming amount of work to do—after all, Valentine’s Day only comes once a year, right? Surprisingly, he doesn’t take you the tavern, but instead...Dawn Winery! Diluc received quite the surprise when he is met with the two of you standing outside his gates, with Kaeya requesting a wine/grape juice taste-testing. Yeah...you guys didn’t get any of that, but you did manage to snag a couple of grapes on your way out! Good for you!

Venti

You wake up in your bed, opening your eyes to see a very-smiley Venti laying beside you, chin propped up against his hand as he watches you yawn sleepily as you force yourself out of bed. You’re then presented with a handpicked-bouquet of Ceceilias, the freshest of the bunch, if he may add. You barely have time to thank him before he hoists you up in his arms and out of your dwelling, gliding over the city of Mondstadt as he whisks you away to Starsnatch Cliff, where he’s prepared a special performance just for you (and no, you don’t need to pay.)

Xingqiu

While he’s not the most romantic, he does have a clue on what people look for on Valentine’s Day; after all, that’s what cheesy-romance novels were for, right? Unbeknownst to you, he takes you on a date very similar to the one the main characters in his favorite novels partook in—and you don’t find out until you catch him peeking into the pages while you weren’t (you were) looking. Again, it’s the thought that counts—

doesn’t celebrate Valentine’s Day.

Jean

Sadly, she probably forgets about the holiday. She’s too busy holed-up in her office to notice the couples gathered up in the courtyard, sharing moments with their lover. It’s not until she walks out to take a breather that she notices the commotion—she immediately calls you over, apologizing frantically. Of course, to this you respond that’s it’s okay, but that you would much rather her take the rest of the day off to spend time together, to which she reluctantly agrees.

Xiao

“I do not have time to celebrate silly human traditions like that.” He would say as you bound up to him, exclaiming that it’s Valentine’s Day, the day where you can give sweets to your loved ones, and asking if he had someone special in mind to spend it with. He’s irked when your gaze falters and the grip on the object you’re hiding behind your back tightens—he only grows more irked as you mutter to yourself how you’ll give the chocolates you made to someone else. He scoffs loudly, avoiding your gaze as he lays out his hand in front of you to accept the chocolates (just because he doesn’t celebrate the holiday doesn’t mean he can’t get jealous!)

#anemo-writes #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact scenarios #genshin impact imagines #THE WAY THIS IS A DAY LATE #can you tell that i’ve never written for zhongli before :’)#bennett’s is my favorite i almost cried while writing it because it was so wholesome #diluc x reader #Childe x reader #zhongli x reader #chongyun x reader #razor x reader

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buttterknifeee · 4 years ago

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An Introduction Pt.3- Teen Titans x Aquagirl!Reader

Pt.1 Pt.2

Requests for this series is now open!!! You can request for ships, episode inserts, and headcanons for this series!!! More info can be found here

Summary: You guys are like the "Friends" of the crime-fighting world. Robin's totally Ross and if this was one of those episodes, it would be called "The one where aliens get their asses kicked"

Ships: none, see info above

A/N: Once again this is a reader insert for the Teen Titans 2003 show season 5 episode 10 (the one where they all meet!) I also added an epilogue for funzies.

You found yourself in a dark bubble of Raven’s magic, floating up to the alien ship. You had offered to water jet all six of you up, but you weren’t even sure if you could create that big of a geyser. Besides, a quiet bubble is much better than a large geyser. Beast Boy, however, disagreed.

“That dark energy stuff gives me the--” He was cut off by a glare from Raven. ”Uh...I mean, it's cool!” He gives a guilty grin.

Robin tells us to go to the firing control room, and you all crept through the hallway in a single file line: Robin, the pink-haired girl, Beast Boy, You, Cyborg, and Raven, who you noticed was still near the entrance. Cyborg gave you a look as if to say Keep going; I’ll handle this. You nodded and continued walking forward.

You were walking near Beast Boy, when you noticed a cut on his arm, with that part of his suit torn open. You pointed at it.

“Hey, you alright?” you asked, referring to the gnash.

“Oh this?” He replies. “This is nothing. When you’ve been a part of the DOOM patrol, a little cut is nothing.” He smiles confidently, patting his wound. You realize that he was totally bluffing when a comical tear springs from his eye and his arm tenses.

“Here I can help.” you say softly. Concentrating on the air between your hands, you condense the liquid in the air, forming a small bubble of water. You move that bubble of water onto his arm and it begins to glow. You let go of the water, revealing Beast Boy’s arm to be completely healed.

“Dudeee,” he stares in awe of your handiwork. “That's so cool-” He’s interrupted by your stumbling; healing really does take a lot out of you. He lets you lean on him, and the two of you continued walking forwards. After a few seconds, he stops.

“Uh, guys?” he says. And that's when you noticed it too. The six of you were surrounded by alien soldiers, and they seemed really out for your blood. “I think they know we’re here.” The six of you charged at the fleet of soldiers. But Robin seemed to have an idea.

“Raven!” he yelled. “Take out part of the floor!” Raven looked at him with confusion, but then nodded and did as she was told. With a large SMASH, she removed the part of the bottom of the ship, revealing the water below. The water below you realized, suddenly understanding Robin’s plan.

“Aquagirl! Now!” he yelled, holding off a soldier with his staff.

“On it!” you yell, punching another alien out of the way. (Apparently with water powers came enhanced strength, which you found out at that moment.)

Concentrating on the water below, you raised your arms, allowing the ocean to shoot up from below. Instead of blasting the water through the entire ship, you carefully controlled it to grab onto the aliens that were attacking your friends, pulling them through the hole and causing them to fall into the ocean below.

You looked at the door to the control room, which was locked shut.

“I got this.” Robin said, placing something shaped like a birdirang onto the door.

As the bidirang counted down, you heard Trogaar talking from behind the door. “The Earth scum shall learn it takes more than six juvenile heroes to defy the mighty Lord Trogaar!” he said, most likely with a smile on his face. You all looked at each other, prepared to prove him wrong.

The door exploded, and Robin was the first to get through. “We’re not six heroes,” he declared. “We’re one team.” Him considering the six of you a team sparked something inside of you. You all split up to take down Trogaar and his guard, with Robin at the lead. You took on a guard, kicking him in the stomach and sending him flying towards a wall.

You noticed that Robin was on the shoulders of Trogaar, and you sent a jet of water to his face to knock him off balance. That didn’t work and he threw Robin across the deck. Luckily, he landed on his feet. The two of you joined to fight Trogaar, taking turns to land punches and kicks. However he overpowered you and Robin, throwing you both across the room. You landed on your back, but Robin hit the wall with the back of his head and fell to the floor.

“Robin! Aquagirl!” The alien girl yelled. You got up as quickly as possible and helped Robin up from sitting position as she and Cyborg tried to take on Trogaar, only to be thrown in your direction as well.

Still leaning on you, Robin looked at Cyborg’s arm. “Can you rewire that into some sort of weapon?” he asked.

“I can try,” he said, getting up. The four of you were in a fighting stance, despite being injured and surrounded by Trogaar and his goons. Suddenly, you hear a voice, as clear as day.

“Get away from my friends!” It was Raven, supporting an injured beast boy. “Azarath Metrion Zinthos!” she chanted. Part of the ship exploded, sending it crashing into the ocean.

You found yourself standing in the ship, the roof torn off and making a slow descent into the ocean. All of the alien soldiers were groaning on the ground, but Robin, Cyborg, and the alien girl were all unharmed. The four of you watched in horror as Trogaar aimed to attack Raven when BLAM! You turned to see Cyborg standing next to you with a smoking sonic blaster in place of his arm. He grins.

“Alright I’m only gonna say this once. Boo-Yah!”

“Yo, is it just me or are some of these guys starting to move again?” Beat Boy points out, still slumped in Raven’s arms. He was right; a few of the aliens began to twitch, making attempts to get up. You turn to the other 5 people.

“You guys don’t worry. They’re in the ocean now, meaning that they’re in my territory.” You cracked your knuckles, your eyes glowing blue.

It’s the next morning and you find yourself sitting with Robin, Raven, Cyborg, and Beast Boy, looking at a view of the bay and an island

“Thanks so much for the new suit Cyborg!” you say, fiddling with your brand new outfit. You were wearing a cropped short-sleeve rash guard and swim shorts, both with deep cyan and black patterns. He also gave you black gauntlets with curved spikes ‘To protect yourself from bad guys and still be aerodynamic!’ according to him. Robin gave you one of his old yellow belts, since he figured you’ll probably need something to carry stuff in. Finally, you found some black scuba shoes from the swimwear store that allowed you to walk and swim with ease.

“Its no problem AG! I figured you needed a new outfit if you’re gonna be a superhero now” Cyborg chuckled, calling you a new nickname that he probably made up just then. Superhero, you thought. I like the sound of that.

Raven had a far away look in her eyes.“That's quite a view.” she said, still staring that the scenery

“Somebody oughta build a house out there,” Cyborg agreed, his voice now softer.

“Yeah, if you like sunshine and the beach.” Beast Boy added, making an obvious dig at Raven.

“You know, you're kind of funny.” Raven said to your surprise, smiling softly at Beast Boy. This was obviously too much for the guy’s ego.

“You think I'm funny?” Beast Boy sat up straight, looking at Raven. “Dude! I know some jokes!”

You laughed at Raven’s face of pure regret, before a familiar voice brought your attention to behind you. It was the alien girl, now in a purple outfit similar to the one before, but this time it seemed to really suit her.

“I look .. nice?” she asked, obviously insecure. You took her hand again.

“You look amazing,” you reassured her, causing her cheeks to flush.

Robin stepped forwards. “I still don’t know your name,” he said.

“In your language, it would be ‘Star Fire.’” she says with a smile.

“Welcome to Earth, Starfire.” Robin said.

She looked at you all shyly, certainly different from when you first met. “ I thank you all for your bravery and help, and I wish to ask permission...to remain here. Where the people are most strange ...but also most kind.”

“You don’t need our permission,” Raven said calmly.

“But if you want our friendship, you've got it.” Robin added.

“I could use a new friend,” you say with a wink.

“Guess we could all use some new friends.” Cyborg agrees.

“Besides, we kind of made a good team.” Beast Boy says proudly.

“I thought we might want to keep in touch, so Cyborg and I designed these.” Robin fished out four black and yellow communicators. You, Raven, Beast Boy, and Starfire each took one and observed them. They were similar to flip phones, but they were circular and had no logo on the front.

“Made ‘em outta my own circuits, '' Cyborg said proudly.

“When there’s trouble, you know who to call,” Robin said. You all smiled at one another. You were a team.

Epilogue

While everyone else was still smiling at one another, you excused yourself and walked a few feet away. You opened your new communicator, dialing in a phone number you know by heart. You waited for the person on the other line to pick up, and began to speak.

“Heyyy dad. It’s (y/n); you must have been worried sick, I’m sorry… Yeah no I’m fine, really. I’m in uhhh Jump City and I made some of the coolest friends and I was wondering... if I could stay here? I’ve been spending the whole night wanting to go back home, but I think this might be home for me. I understand if- oh? Really? You’ll let me stay? Wow, thanks dad. I-I promise that I’ll be careful and that I’ll go to school here, I know there's this high school called Murakami School I’ll try to… I love you too dad. I’ll talk to you later.”

You flip your communicator closed, and walked back to your new friends. Raven looked at you.

“Are you alright?” she asked, noticing your change in mood.

“Yeah,” you say, a smile forming on your face. “I’m great actually. Just had to call home.”

“You're going home???” Beast Boy asked, a frown falling on his face.

You chuckled, “Of course not.” You lightly punched his shoulder. “Besides, this is my home now.”

“Awe Yeah!” the green guy cheered. You laugh, feeling extra cheerful. Now that you’re in a team, you really do feel like you belong. You looked at your new team.

“Anyone up for pizza?”

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spacedikut · 4 years ago

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pumpkin party ; spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid (criminal minds) x short f!reader

summary: “hi can i request a spencer x f!reader who’s like short (like 5 ft tall short hehe) w curly hair and uh they do like cute fall stuff together like pumpkin picking and halloween and baking and leaves and stuff ??? sorry if that isn’t specific enough i love ur writing ur amazing okay gn” 1502 words

a/n: here’s a kinda short terrible thing about pumpkin picking and carving w spencer because honestly nothing sounds better

masterlist

As sweet as the gesture is, you can’t help but stare incredulously at Spencer when he offers you his coat.

“Are you…serious?” You ask, eyebrow raised.

“Of course. Only for a few minutes, until you warm up a little. Actually, men are colder than women; temperature responds to changing hormone levels, so women’s body temperatures vary depending on the phase of their menstrual cycle.”

“Please don’t talk about my menstrual cycle when we’re at a pumpkin patch.”

“Right. Sorry.” He giggles, “But a man’s body temperature is often hotter near his-“

“Don’t! There are children!” You hiss, but can’t resist laughing along. You two are the only adults at the pumpkin patch without little ones running around, but neither of you seem to mind.

“Here,” He says again, “Take it.”

“Spence,” You sigh, “That jacket is gonna basically be on the floor if I put it on. I don’t want to ruin it.”

“How is-“ He starts, confused, before he realises you’re referencing your stark height different, “Oh. Yeah. Then I can’t help you.”

You should’ve known it was bound to get chilly at the nearest farm. Spencer asked if you were sure you didn’t want to bring a jacket, and you said of course, and now look at you. You’re surprised he hasn’t said, “Told you so!” yet.

“I did say-“

There it is.

You tug on his hand, interlocking your fingers as you start walking, “Let’s just pick our pumpkins and get out of here. I’m too excited about our new carving tools to wait.”

He happily follows along, both of you commenting on pumpkins and their appearances as you walk around – who knew Spencer could be so judgemental? – before one of you finds one you deem good enough.

You find yours first - ugly, slightly deformed, but that’s how you like them. It’s shaped more like a typical squash, elongated and thicker at the bottom, slimmer at the top. You love it.

Spencer usually likes the ugly pumpkins, too, so you’re surprised when he picks a near-perfect one from the bunch.

“I need another one.” He mumbles, set on his mission. He wanders around a little more, perfectly round bright orange pumpkin in hand, eyes dancing around the patch. “Another one…”

You tenderly grasp your squash-like pumpkin and wait patiently, watching him roll the second pumpkin he likes up his leg, to his hip, so he can heave it into his arms.

He only looks like he’s struggling a little.

“I can take one, if you want,” You offer, but he vigorously shakes his head.

“I got it, I got it.”

You watch him wobble towards you, clearly suffering with the weight in his hands, and can’t help but offer again. “Let me, Spence,”

He beams at you excitedly, “Love, really, I’m okay. Let’s go.”

He waddles by and you follow him to the front, keeping a close eye on him because you’re concerned he’ll drop to his knees. “We both know I got the muscle and you got the height.”

“I’m a very strong man. I can handle two pumpkins.”

You decide not to argue back, even when he lets out an obscene groan as he loudly dumps the pumpkins onto the cash register.

Not even when you hear him whisper an encouraging, “I’m a very strong man.” To himself before heaving the pumpkins back into his arms.

Or when he falls asleep in the car ride home.

+++

The tradition you and Spencer have, even before you started dating, is you wouldn’t tell eachother your ideas until the big reveal after carving. Spencer holds this tradition very dear to his heart, so when you start questioning him about his plans that involve two pumpkins, he is rightly offended.

“Why can’t you just tell me?” You laugh, lightly nudging his side as he lays all the tools out onto the table.

“Because!” His lips quirk up, stifling a chuckle, “You know, over one-point-five billion pounds of pumpkin are produced each year in the U.S.”

“Actually, I have a pumpkin fact for you.”

You’re grinning at him, a blinding smile that makes Spencer feel mushy inside. You look genuinely enthused, pure eagerness on your face as you bounce on your toes when you tell him that, for once, you have a fact for him.

He knows it won’t be new information to him, but he loves you so he’ll listen and pretend it’s his first time hearing it.

He loves you.

Holy hell, does he love you.

“Did you know…” You trail off, all dramatic and suspenseful and making Spencer go heart eyed, “The original jack-o’-lanterns were made with turnips and potatoes by the Irish.”

Yes. He does know that.

He raises an eyebrow.

“So you’re making a jack-o’-lantern?”

You guffaw. How did he-

“My guess is you were looking for pumpkin carving ideas, probably on Pinterest, and ended up looking at jack-o’-lantern ideas and stumbled upon some facts.”

Smugly, he hands you a carving tool while you stare at him, mouth agape.

“I’m taking that as a yes.”

“You suck.”

Quietly, he says, “You love me.”

And as you both get to work, you can’t help but think yes, I do.

+++

Spencer works at record-breaking speed. His first is done (and harshly discarded, you note) within thirty minutes, then he moves eagerly onto the next.

Even though the element of surprise is ruined, you work meticulously – you won’t let your literal hours of research (and practice doodles in your notebook) go to waste. Your tongue peeks out of your mouth, brows tensing and easing sporadically. Your whole apartment stinks of pumpkin, the innards of them building quite the mountain between you and Spencer.

Good thing you like the smell of it, you suppose.

“You nearly done?” Spencer asks, stretching after over an hour of being hunched over the table.

You purse your lips, “Yeah, I think so. What about you?”

He bites his lip when your attention is directed to him. There’s an anxiousness to him, beyond his normal jitters, and you wonder what he’s done. Will you have to have a serious conversation after this? Is he breaking up with you? Is he dumping you through a goddamn pumpkin?

“You go first.” He tells you.

“I assume I don’t have a choice?”

“Nope. Show me the jack-o’-lantern!”

You playfully groan, dejectedly spinning the pumpkin until it faces Spencer. He reacts with excitement, a pleased grin on his face as his eyes momentarily widen and his eyebrows shoot up. It’s a cute reaction. He’s cute.

“That’s incredible, Y/N!” He says, leaning in to look closer at the cuts and design. “We have to put it outside.”

“You think so?” You bashfully fiddle with the stalk at the top.

“Yeah! It’ll match mine!”

Spencer spins his first pumpkin, then, and it’s another jack-o’-lantern like yours but a different facial expression. You love it, reacting in a similar way to how Spencer did to yours – joy on your face as you exclaim a, “Whoa!” when you look at it.

“I think we’re spending too much time together,” Spencer jokes, “I was planning to do a jack-o’-lantern, too.”

“Great minds think alike.” You smile, and his heart flutters. “Now, the other one! Is it another-“

You move to turn the second pumpkin yourself, but Spencer’s hands stop you.

“Wait-“ He calls, removing your hands from his work. You look at him in confusion. “If you hate it, let’s just pretend it never happened, okay?”

“What?”

“Just- okay?”

You nod. After a deep breath, Spencer turns his second pumpkin until it’s directly in front of you. He gives you some seconds to take it in, read what’s written on it and process.

You take too long to process and Spencer starts panicking.

“Like I said-“

“Do you mean it?” You look at him, and there’s tears in your eyes, “Really?”

You look back to the pumpkin with ‘I ♡ U’ carved messily in it. Somehow, though just two letters and one symbol, you can tell it’s distinctly Spencer’s scrawny writing and it’s perfect.

It’s the first time he’s ever said he loves you. And it’s kind of weird, to do it through a pumpkin, but it’s so Spencer and God you love him too.

“Yeah,” He says, quietly, “Yeah, I do. I love you, Y/N.”

You jump out of your chair, straight into his lap, his arms immediately wrapping tightly around your waist. Your hands find themselves in his hair, tugging his lips to yours and kissing him with reckless abandon.

He giggles happily against your lips. It’s the best feeling in the world.

When you pull back, his hands flex on your thighs as you beam at eachother. Everything feels perfect.

“I love you too, you know,” You whisper, blushing.

He brings you in again, pressing feverish kisses on your lips, repeating the same sentence over and over, I love you I love you I love you I love you.

You repeat it back every time. And you always will.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #mine #u know when an idea in your head seems really good? and then u write it..

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rina-writes · 4 years ago

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Tattoo

Summary: You have been thinking of getting a tattoo for sometime and inspiration strikes on a spontaneous date with your boyfriend Ethan, who supports with your tattoo from design to after care.

Warnings: The Fluffiest of Fluff

A/N: Figured it was a good time to post fluffy!E before the vid tomorrow. <3

You always went back and forth on getting a tattoo. When you were much younger, it wasn’t your thing. Why would you mark you body with something permanent? You changed your clothes 15 times before going out because your shirts didn’t look right with your boobs. How would you decide on a tattoo?

As you got older, you realized that tattoo’s shouldn’t only be viewed as something you wanted to represent you for the rest of your life. They could be moments, like remembering a first road trip or the album art of the band of the first concert you attended. Tattoos could be used to mark the story of your life.

Ethan, your boyfriend, was part of your inspiration to get tattoos. You started dating around his first couple tattoos, back when you were still unsure about them. Seeing his leg sleeve grow, especially the tattoos that represented memories you both shared, made you want to do something special. You especially enjoyed tracing his tattoos with your fingers and laying soft kisses on them during your intimate moments. He would often play with your hair absentmindedly, enjoying the attention. You wanted to share this interaction in reverse as well.

After months of research, you couldn’t find a tattoo that spoke to you. Ethan always urged you that sometimes you just need inspiration from the world, not from Instagram or Pinterest. You took it with a grain of salt eyeing some of the sillier tattoos on his leg. The fears of younger self came rushing back to you about making a mistake.

Then, one night, Ethan had this wild idea to go camping.

Uh huh, Ethan Dolan, camping, outside, willingly, without his twin brother. You kept checking his temperature the entire drive to the campsite. Ethan laughed, holding your wrist firmly, but not too tight as to hurt you. He looked at you, allowing the Tesla to take over the drive and leaned in to peck your lips.

“Trust me, when we get there, you’ll understand.” He said to you.

“I dunno...” You said, hesitantly, smiling as you pulled your wrist from his grasp to hold his hand. Your fingers interlocked and he brought the back of your hand up to kiss the back of it. He didn’t break eye contact and you chuckled.

“Now you’re just showing off.” You said, gesturing to the auto pilot with your free hand.

Ethan shrugged smugly, giving your hand another squeeze before fiddling with music playing the car.

By the time you arrived, the sun was about to set in a couple hours. You recognized the area from pictures Ethan had showed you from a video where he and Grayson went camping without technology. Unlike Grayson, Ethan had no intention of roughing which was easy to tell thanks to his glamping setup. Your tent was luxurious, way too big for two people and Ethan had brought enough blankets and pillows that they could be a fort all on it’s own. For dinner, he had made vegan meatballs with spaghetti and tomato sauce. He also made pancakes that he tried to pass of as crepes for dessert.

“It’s all I can make...” Ethan confessed, looking away embarrassed as he placed the pot of sauce on the logs of the campfire, next to the meatballs wrapped in aluminum fall.

“Thankfully, it’s my favorite.” You said, sitting in the spot next to him, checking on the meatballs to make sure they didn’t burn.

It was so quiet and spacious. After eating and chatting, you took a break before dessert to explore. Ethan led you up and down a few paths, holding your hand at the steepest points. You watched the sunset from a high point, your breath taken away. After taking a few nature shots and photos of each other, Ethan leaned in for kiss. His hand rested on the back of your neck and you deepened the kiss by getting close enough to sit in his lap. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders as your lips massaged his, gradually getting more rough. His tongue tapped at your lips and you parted them to grant him access, both of you now breathing deeply to keep from breaking the kiss. While it only seemed to seconds, you could see the sky was starting to lose it’s orange hue.

“We should head down,” You said breathlessly, breaking the kiss.

Ethan pulled back only slightly, your foreheads still chuckling, his hazel eyes looking chocolate brown in the dark as he stared deeply at you.

“You’re right.” He smiled, “We can do plenty more of that later.”

You giggled and he extended his hand to help you stand up with him. The descend was a lot scarier with less light. You were clinging on to him, but you were also aware he was scared and clinging out to you. It was the blind leading the blind with a chorus of “What was that?” “Where are you?” “I’m scared.” and just pure screaming. By the time you reached the bottom, following the light and smell for the weakening fire at your campsite, you were both laughing with relief.

You enjoyed your “crepes” with fruits that Ethan had packed in a cooler along with the cold beverages you had to drink. While you were chatting, you noticed, Ethan look up at the sky. You were about to follow suit when he grabbed your chin. He turned you to look at him and your breath caught in your throat. Every now and then, your mind was catapulted back to when you first started dating. When your brain was still processing all of his handsome features, his cut jaw, his full brows, his large expressive eyes, his pink lips, his shinning smile, his soft, brown locks...everything that made him breathtaking. With the campfire light shining his face, it all seemed to look brand new again and you loved it.

“Don’t look yet, I want to show you something.” He said, and you nodded.

He could have said anything to you at that moment and you would have nodded. Ethan chuckled.

“Why are you staring at me like that?” He asked, biting his lip softly.

“No reason...” You smiled, pecking his lips. “So, what do you want to show me?”

“Let’s clean up first.” Ethan said, gesturing to the stuff around you both.

You both divided and conquered cleaning up the campsite. The final step was to put on the fire. You decided to take on the task while Ethan got the flashlight ready to go back to your tent. You turned off the flashlights to not attract bugs as you entered. Despite the tent being large enough that you could stand, you both somehow managed to trip over each other. With lots of laughs and fake bickering, you finally closed the tent and turned the flashlight on.

“No turn it off.” Ethan said, not wanting to ruin the surprise.

“Oh okay...” You said hesitantly, laying back on one of the larger cushions. You turned off the flashlight. “Come here and cuddle me.”

“I will, I promise.” Ethan said, his voice at a distance that told you he was still standing up. You heard him unzipping something and you saw that he was moving the top of the tent. There was a plastic covering on top, similar to a sun roof on a car. From your position, you swear you could see the whole galaxy. The rich deep purple and blues of the sky speckled with diamonds filled you. It felt like your heart was going to burst. Ethan crouched down and gently patted the cushioned floor for you. He finally found your arm and laid down next to you pulling you closer to him. As your eyes adjusted to the darkness, Ethan studied your face as you stared incessantly at the sky like a kid watching cartoons.

“Are you crying?” His voice had a teasing tone, but he was whispering like he does when you cuddle at home.

“A little...” You admitted, snuggling into him. “This is so beautiful. Thank you.”

“I thought this would be a great way to show you how I feel when I look at you every day.” Ethan said, unable to make direct eye contact.

“God, E that was so corny.” You teased, but still inching closer for a kiss.

“Yeah...I know.” He agreed before closing the space between you to continue you where you left off on the mountain.

A couple of weeks later and you were at the tattoo parlor. You had decided on your tattoo based on your camping night together. You couldn’t stop thinking about those stars, and how they looked from that little sky roof. You wanted to get a similar view, but add to it, with some trees lining the area around the sky. After a few consultations with the tattoo artist, you decided a rectangle shaped “frame” on the side of your ribs designed to show a starry night in a pine tree forest. The coloring was going to be black and white, so it had a spooky element that Ethan really liked as well. Now, was the moment of truth.

As you signed the waiver, Taylor, your tattoo artist, smiled at you. They looked exactly how you wanted your first tattoo artist to look, friendly, edgy, and have really cool rainbow hair and even more rainbow tattoos.

“Are you sure about this?” They teased. “I mean...this is a pretty intense tattoo for your first.”

Ethan, who’s leg was bouncing up and down next to you, perked up at the words. “Taylor, is right, Y/N. The ribs really hurt. You should go for somewhere with more cushion.”

“I want the ribs.” You said, standing up with more confidence than you actually had.

“Alrighty,” Taylor said, “Come over when you’re ready. I’ll show you one final stencil and we will get this party going.”

Ethan stood up, giving your butt a light squeeze. Your eyes widened and you looked around to make sure no one saw.

“What do you think you’re doing, mister?” You asked, turning to wrap your arms around Ethan’s neck.

“Checking which places have the nicest cushion for this tattoo.” He grinned before kissing your forehead. “Jokes aside, I’ll be here when you need me.”

“I’ll be fine.” You assured him.

You were not fine. You were so close to crying, but your dignity wouldn’t let you. There were certain spots that hurt more than others, and your jagged breathing always revealed which ones the tattoo gun had just hit. Ethan was beside you the entire time. He was constantly giving you water, wiping your forehead, holding your head, kissing the top of your head and coaching you through it.

“It looks so sick, babe.” Ethan said, as he walked over to see how the tattoo was coming along. “You’re gonna love it. I’m actually pretty jealous.”

You let out a hum, which you had been doing for awhile now.

“You alright, hun?” Taylor asked, looking at you. “If you want, we can stop and finish another time.”

You shook your head quickly. “I...wanna...finish.” You huffed out.

“She’s a tough one, Tay.” Ethan grinned, making Taylor smile as well.

“I can tell.” Taylor said, before focusing back on their work.

Ethan sat down on your other side, dipping his head to look at you since your head was bent down. He rested his forehead gently on yours and you moved your head closer to him, taking in his scent.

“It really looks amazing, Y/N. Reminds me of that night.” Ethan said, his voice soft and full of nostalgia. “But, it’s also so you. I’m so proud of you, baby. Your first tat.”

You hummed again, trying to smile. He continued to pat your head and speak to you softly. Soon, Taylor announced you were done. They helped you stand up, Ethan steadying you from behind. You turned in the mirror and your eyes started to water. It was everything you hoped for. It looked great with your skin tone, even with the redness for the fresh tattoo.

“I’d hug you, but you know...” You laughed softly.

“We can hip bump on the other side.” Taylor suggested and you left as you turned to hip bump them.

Taylor wrapped you up and Ethan helped you to adjust your clothes. He practically carried you to the car. He didn’t want to hurt you, so he was very careful with you the entire time. He convinced you to spend the first half of your healing process at his place so he could take care of you. You agreed, mostly because you were so exhausted and the thought of sleeping in his large bed and soft sheets was appealing. He helped you to take off your clothes and clean up before helping you into bed for a nap.

Ethan spoiled you during your recovery. He helped you in and out of bed, waiting on you hand and foot. You loved the attention. Even when being intimate, Ethan was incredibly careful of your tattoo. When your tattoo was a lot more healed, you almost wished you had a bit more time with Nurse Ethan.

“It looks amazing, babe.” Ethan said, when he walked in on you getting dressed. You were in your bra and shorts, about to put on a t-shirt. “Come here.” He said, pulling you to the bed. He sat down and motioned for you to lay across his lap as he traced your tattoo with his fingers. This was exactly how you imagined it, no it was better. Your eyes began to feel heavy and you closed them, while Ethan continued to admire your tattoo.

“I love you, baby.” Ethan said, kissing your side.

“I love you too, E.”

#ethan dolan #ethan dolan x reader #ethan dolan scenario #ethan dolan blurb #ethan dolan imagine #dolan twins #dolan twins scenario #dolan twins fluff #dolan twins imagine #dolan twins blurb #r-writes-fic #fic-tattoo

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artificialqueens · 4 years ago

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This is Halloween (Branjie) - Athena2

Summary: Brooke and Vanessa both end up as parent volunteers for their kids’ class Halloween party, and the day is sweeter than they expected.

A/N: This is just a short, fluffy little fic I wanted to write for Halloween. I really hope you enjoy, and I’d appreciate any feedback! Thank you Writ for betaing! Title from the song from Nightmare Before Christmas.

Happy Halloween!

—

Brooke hates Halloween.

She’s hated it since she was six, when she got separated from her older siblings during trick-or-treating. She had to find her way back home in the dark, dodging big kids in scary masks that dripped fake blood and running past the creaky old house with broken windows that all the kids swore was haunted, while birds squalled in menace and trees swayed with what she was sure had to be ghosts.

She’s a grown woman now, with a kid of her own, but her hair still stands on end and her skin still prickles like she’s being watched as soon as houses start decorating with fake webs and giant rubber spiders, as soon as horror movie commercials come on TV every night, as soon as one of those random Halloween stores pops up in some empty building.

She’s been up and down every costume aisle of said store with Lily, her daughter changing her mind from cowgirl to princess to astronaut and back to cowgirl again. Her costume is all ready to go for her school party tomorrow, hat neatly arranged with her plaid shirt and bandanna. Brooke will brave the night and take her trick-or-treating tomorrow, and if she can sneak some peanut butter cups from Lily’s stash, it’ll be worth it. Brooke will have a normal day tomorrow, no costumes, no makeup, no scares–

Brooke bites her lip when she sees Nina calling. Nina is Lily’s teacher and Brooke’s friend, and Brooke assumes this is a friendship call when she picks up.

“Hello?”

“Oh, Brooke.” Nina sighs in relief. “Brooke, how much do you love me?”

Brooke rolls her eyes. “What do you need, Nina?” she asks fondly.

There’s a pause on the other end. “One of my parent volunteers for the party tomorrow is sick. I can’t get anyone else on such short notice. Do you think you could help me?”

“Nina–”

“Your old friend.”

“Nina–”

“The woman responsible for teaching your daughter the alphabet and preparing her for the world.”

“All right, Nina! No need for the theatrics,” Brooke says. It won’t be a problem for her to get off work a little early, and Nina won’t have anything scary in her classroom. It’s just a kindergarten costume party, for crying out loud. She probably just has to be there so kids don’t throw candy at each other.

“You’re a lifesaver, Brooke! See you tomorrow!”

—

Brooke fiddles with the school visitor sticker on her gray sweater as she glances around the classroom. Nina’s turned the white walls into a pumpkin patch, with construction paper hay and squash and pumpkins lining the room. Little ghosts float near the top, with big eyes and–because it’s Nina–wide smiles. The Monster Mash plays softly from Nina’s portable speaker, and Brooke manages a smile. Nothing scary here.

Nina rushes in the room hanging on to her witch hat, with a woman who makes Brooke’s heart skip a beat at her side. The woman is tiny, in a purple shirt covered in little bats, a cat ear headband poking through her wavy brown hair.

“Brooke.” Nina calls her over. “The kids are doing the costume parade in the gym, and I have to supervise. So I’m gonna have you and Vanessa”–she nods at the tiny woman, who gives a little wave and a brilliant smile– “get the tables set.”

Brooke nods, and Nina’s out the door, witch dress flowing behind her. Brooke takes the stack of pumpkin-covered paper plates while Vanessa takes the napkins, starting on the giant U-shape of tables covered in plastic orange tablecloths.

“Nice headband,” Brooke says, and Vanessa’s laugh is one of the greatest things Brooke’s ever heard.

“Thanks,” Vanessa says.

“So, did Nina–uh, Mrs. West–rope you into this too?” Brooke asks.

“Nah, I volunteered. I love Halloween.” Vanessa’s hand brushes against Brooke’s when she lays a napkin down, and tingles shoot up Brooke’s arm.

“Oh.”

“I’m guessing you’re not a fan?”

Brooke shrugs. “Not really. Got lost trick-or-treating as a kid, kinda left a bad taste.” She tries to downplay it all, because Vanessa is cute and funny and cool, and clearly into her too if that smile is any indication. Brooke doesn’t want Vanessa thinking she’s a weenie. Even if she probably is a weenie.

But Vanessa’s eyes widen with sympathy. “Aww,” she coos. “That must’ve been scary. I don’t do scary Halloween stuff. Scariest we gettin’ is Hocus Pocus, maybe Nightmare Before Christmas.”

Brooke laughs. “I can handle that. Just no horror or gore or that kind of thing.”

Vanessa nods, laying down a last napkin. “You should come to the public library sometime. I work there, I make all the decorations. You could bring your kid …” She gestures to the name plates at each chair.

“Lily,” Brooke tells Vanessa. “She sits down on the other end.” She pauses a second, raises her eyebrows in mischief. “Making sure I’m not the parent of a kid that your kid hates?”

Vanessa lets out that wild laugh again, and Brooke smiles. “Not at all! Jamie doesn’t hate anyone. He used to walk up to random people in stores and try to be their friend before I stopped him.”

Brooke joins Vanessa in her laughter. She can see where Jamie gets his warmth and friendliness from.

“I think Lily’s mentioned him before,” Brooke says. “He helped her on the swings, I think.”

Vanessa nods in satisfaction. “About time all those manners I taught him sunk in.” She moves over to the paper cups Nina set out and hands half the stack to Brooke. “You remember that cup song everyone was doing? I still remember the whole dang thing.”

“You can’t say that and not prove it,” Brooke challenges, locking eyes with Vanessa and feeling her whole face blush.

Vanessa sticks her tongue out. “You bet I will.” She sets up her stack on the desk, her hands moving all over the place, stacking and unstacking and all over again. Her body sways slightly to the Monster Mash–Nina’s playlist seems to be this song exclusively–and Brooke sways gently with her. She bursts into applause when Vanessa finishes, rolling her eyes as Vanessa takes a bow.

“Let’s get these cups out,” Vanessa says.

Brooke does, following Vanessa around the room and working up the courage to ask what she wants to.

“Hey, uh, Lily and I are going trick-or-treating tonight,” Brooke starts, “And if you and Jamie want to come… I mean, unless you’re already going with someone.” There’s plenty of people Vanessa could be going with–a friend or a partner or anyone, really–but Brooke is hoping there’s no one. And she’s hoping Vanessa will understand why she’s asking.

“No, it’s just us,” Vanessa says, giving Brooke a meaningful look. “Let’s do it! Meet at 6 on Maple?”

“Sure.”

Tables ready, they neaten up the little table of food–cupcakes with orange and black sprinkles and cookies with spider web designs and pizza that Brooke is happy to see hasn’t been spookified.

Vanessa comes at Brooke with a plastic skull-shaped ring in her hand. “Come on, you gotta look a little more festive,” she says.

Brooke snorts, letting Vanessa push the ring over her finger. For just a second, she wants to grab Vanessa’s hand and hold it, but the feeling flies away when the kids charge in, a parade of superheroes and princesses and monsters and lightsabers.

Lily runs up to Brooke and hugs her before sitting down, buzzing with excitement over showing everyone that her mommy is in class. Brooke notices Jamie, dressed as Luke Skywalker, doing the same with Vanessa. His brown curls match hers perfectly, and Brooke can’t help but smile.

“You ever wonder how long before they’re embarrassed by us?” Vanessa asks Brooke as they supervise the kids getting their snacks.

“We got at least a few years for that, don’t worry,” Brooke soothes. She touches Vanessa’s shoulder gently in comfort, melting when Vanessa leans into her touch. They hover in the corner for the rest of the party, talking and laughing while they spear straws through juice boxes and pass out napkins, and Lily has to tug Brooke out of the classroom.

—

“Trick or Treat!”

Brooke and Vanessa linger on the sidewalk because the kids insisted on ringing the doorbell themselves. They still have another few streets to visit, and Brooke wishes the night could go on forever, that the kids could just knock on a never-ending row of houses. Because once they’re done, she has to leave Vanessa, who’s bouncing next to Brooke gasping and oohing and ahhing over cool decorations or costumes she sees as they walk.

“Hey, Brooke?” Vanessa asks.

“Yeah?”

“Can I give you a treat?” Vanessa looks down hopefully, her round cheeks red under the streetlights.

Brooke’s stomach jumps into her throat. “Of course you can.”

Vanessa holds out a Milky Way bar, the silver wrapper shining. Only on top of it, there’s a little piece of paper–

Brooke’s heart skips a beat as she takes the candy and reads Vanessa’s phone number, written in a messy scrawl. Brooke blushes a deep red herself and returns Vanessa’s smile. She sticks the paper in her pocket, knowing she’ll call it tomorrow.

A treat, indeed.

#rpdr fanfiction #brooke lynn hytes #vanessa vanjie mateo #nina west #branjie #lesbian au #fluff #athena2 #concrit welcome #submission

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jaeminlore · 5 years ago

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Christmas in New York | Jisung

summary: is there anything more wonderful?

words: 2.9k+

category: not really a full story just a blurb, eloise at christmastime au, jisung as bill, eloise as eloise, nanny as nanny, lots of references to eloise at christmastime, looked at prizes of plaza rooms for this and geez, the reader is a female model from england, joanna fleming is one of my favorite designers, here’s the dress mentioned in the story

The Plaza. Ideally situated on Fifth Avenue. Elegance Unmatched.

At least, that’s how the website describes it. To Jisung, it’s just home, and work, and everything his life has been centered around since he was a child. Growing up in the service industry with parents who worked long nights as room service attendants, Jisung has always known hotel etiquette. He’s known hotel living, as he’s spent upwards of eight hours a day in rooms alone.

He knows all about guests and their preferred champagnes. He knows which rooms like heated towels and which ones ask for extra toilet paper. He knows how to keep oatmeal from becoming dry before he can get it to its appropriate room. He knows about the stock market and horse races and a bunch of other nonsensical things rich people seem to prattle on about for hours without a break.

He knows the names of bag designers and which ones to be especially careful with. He knows how to respond when he receives a tip. He knows how to hold his tongue when some rich old man tells him he doesn’t know “real work”. He knows when the ballroom isn’t in use; he knows how to sneak in and play the piano before the security guard catches wind.

During Christmastime, the Plaza is especially busy. Balls and galas and dinner parties and lodgings are booked every hour of every day. Employees work double shifts and sometimes triple, if there are enough demanding patrons. There a poinsettias everywhere (real, because the Plaza doesn’t do fake flowers) and red tablecloths the color of cranberries.

There’s some melody of Christmas songs being played in one of the many parlors, and the sound drifts through just enough vents to be caught by Jisung’s ear, as he makes his way to one of the many ballrooms — this one waiting to be decorated for Hanukkah. Jisung has silverware cleaned and ready to be set out, but other than that, the majority of the decisions are left to the hostess (a rich woman from Manhattan) and the official event planner, Prunella (who always seems to be in a sour mood, no matter what.)

After he lays the silverware down and asks a few questions about appropriate manners when refilling drinks, he leaves, desperate for a bit of respite before the Winter Gala being held in just a few hours.

His respite comes in the form of Eloise, a six-year-old child who lives in one of the apartments with her nanny. She lives on the sixteenth floor, though she prefers to refer to it as the tippy-top floor. Jisung prefers to refer to it as the only joyful room in the hotel; the only place where he is free to release his inhibitions.

Nanny (as she is so lovingly referred to) is a british woman, who is, apparently, the world’s best caretaker. At least, that’s what Jisung assumes. He knows how much Eloise’s mother pays for their apartment, and a wealthy home like this wouldn’t be left in the care of just anyone.

Eloise is another story entirely. Jisung has no idea if anyone can tame her (not that she needs any taming.) Of course, most put up with her shenanigans, but uptight guests find her erratic and intrusive behavior rather alarming.

Jisung finds her to be one of the most fun people he has ever meant. Of course, this could be said about most six year olds, but Jisung doesn’t know any other six year olds as well as he knows Eloise.

Eloise has a habit of getting into everyone’s heart, whether they want her to or not.

He knocks on the door, ready to serve Nanny’s evening tea, when the door is jerked open. Eloise appears, blonde hair covered in so much red tinsel that it looks like a wig. “Jisung, Jisung, Jisung, you are oh so late for Nanny’s evening tea. I have been waiting around for ages for you to help me plan my spectacular entrance tonight!”

“Tonight?” Jisung pretends to be surprised as he pours Nanny’s tea. “Are you attending the Winter Gala, Eloise?”

Eloise grabs a tea biscuit from off of Nanny’s saucer and stuffs the entire thing in her mouth. She answers his question, mouth still full. “Of course! Mother went to the gala every year when she was younger. I must, must, must carry on her legacy!”

Bits of biscuit crumbs spray onto Jisung’s lapels. He brushes them off as discreetly as he can. Catching Nanny’s apologetic glance, he winks. Then, with a swift bow, he puts on his “princely” accent — a little bit French and a little bit English. “Well, Miss Eloise, would you care to accompany me to the kitchens? I’m sure we can find some napkins to fold for the Winter Gala.”

Is Jisung trying to get out of his room service duties by working the gala? Yes.

Is Jisung trying to distract Eloise from the fact that she hasn’t been invited to the gala? Also yes.

Eloise’s eyes grow wide with excitement. Then, as if remembering she’s still pretending with him, she does a small curtsy. “Why, Mr. Park, I would absolutely adore coming to help with you.”

Jisung slips a few raisins onto the coffee table, where Skipperdee , Eloise’s pet turtle, resides. Weenie, the pug dog so beloved by Eloise and her nanny, bugs Jisung for his own treat, so Jisung digs a Pupperoni out of his pocket. “Then if you would so kindly take a seat astride my royal carriage, we shall make our way to the Terrance Room.”

The Terrance room is just as beautiful as it was described. The tables are lavishly decorated in burgundy velvet tablecloths. Wreaths of ivy and winter berries remind you of a winter forest. Lights fall from the ceiling, mimicking snow flakes mid-fall.

“It’s beautiful, Prunella,” One of the models in the tour group comments to the event planner.

You break away from the group and twirl around, imagining what it will be like to dance in the ballroom tonight, when the Winter Gala begins in full spring. You’ve been chosen to wear a gown by Joanne Fleming. It’ll be her designing debut at the Gala, as well as your modeling debut in America. The ballgown you’re wearing is an embroidered flower blouse tucked into a tulle and silk shirt. Perhaps your favorite part of the outfit is the red silk shirt underneath that features poet sleeves and an oversized bow neckline. Paired with hair and makeup, you’re bound to be just as good as the big names here.

You head down the steps away from everyone else, where a large tree stands tall, decorated with tinsel and red candles. Not lit, of course, as that would be a fire hazard. Your strain to see the topper atop the large, nearly ten foot tree. You back up, and with it nearly in your sight... you fall back into someone.

“Oh my gosh,” you squeal, as two hands grab you waist. As soon as they push you up, you whip around to apologize. “I am so sorry, I was trying to see what the tree topper, uh, was.”

You smile sheepishly at the boy. He’s clearly a waiter, based on his white tuxedo jacket paired with a gold-plated name tag. “Jisung,” you read. “That’s a lovely name.”

“It’s Korean,” the boy says, risking a smile at you. His eyes are wide, whether naturally or just at the fact that you fell on top of him, you don’t know. “I mean, because I’m Korean. I mean, not that you asked, it’s just... you said my name was lovely, so I thought you might like to know where it’s from.” He closes his mouth tightly after that and scratches the back of his neck. “Sorry.”

“No worries,” you hold your hand. “I’m Y/n.”

Before he can shake your hand, Jisung is pushed away by a very small girl.

“Hello!” She grabs your hand and shakes it as vigorously as she can. “I’m Jisung’s best friend, Eloise. I am six.”

You giggle. “Hello, Eloise. What are you doing in a boring room in the middle of the day?”

“Jisung and I are folding napkins,” Eloise says, gesturing to the one (and only one, that you can see) napkin folded into a swan. “They’re for the Winter Gala tonight!”

“The Winter Gala?” You clap your hands together. “How wonderful! Will you be attending?”

“Unfortunately, Jisung and I have far too many duties here in the Plaza.” Eloise falls back against Jisung’s leg and drapes a hand dramatically over her forehead. “Why, if the two of us leave for just ten minutes, the entire hotel may fall apart!”

You look at Jisung for confirmation. The tall boy shrugs, his bow-shaped lips curled into a smirk. “She’s right. We’re kind of the glue of this entire place.”

“Ah,” you say as seriously as you can muster when Jisung has such a distinct twinkle in his eye.

He’s cute, you have to note, in the hustle of listening to one erratic six year old. He’s much taller than you, but it isn’t as intimidating as one might think. Perhaps it’s the way his shoulders slouch forward just a bit, or the obvious youth in his face.

“Well, if either of you would like to attend, I do have a few companion tickets,” you say, pretending not to care as you fiddle with your scarf. “Of course, I understand if you’re too busy holding this place together. It’s an important job, after all—“

“Are you kidding?” Eloise jumps up and yanks the scarf out of your hands. “You must, must, must allow us to go as your dates. Jisung and I will be on our best behaviors. I shall wear the gown my mother brought back from Milan last month. We went to a fashion show, and I threw up on Coco Chanel!”

You burst into laughter, despite the seriousness on Eloise’s face. “I’m sure that was quite an unforgettable show.”

“Indeed.” Eloise grimaces, ribbing her stomach.

“I have the night shift,” Jisung says, his deep voice so obvious when spoken right after Eloise’s pitchy one. “But they might place me here, so I can watch you. I mean, not watch as in leer, or anything. Just a drop by to say hello–“

“I would love it if you would, Jisung.” You clasp your hands in front of you. “Speaking of, I’m sure my stylists are having a fit. I’m about an hour late for all of my appointments, though it was worth it to meet the two of you.” You bend down to Eloise’s height. “I shall see you tonight?”

“Yes!”

“I’ll save you a dance,” you assure her. Then, straightening up, you glance at Jisung. “Shall I save you one as well?”

Jisung blinks. Perhaps the invitation goes directly over his head, but he averts his eyes and answers you, cheeks red with nerves. “That’s not necessary.”

“Oh.” His rejection seems a bit blunt, though you understand. You’ve just met, after all, and it isn’t like strangers to dance with each other upon first (second?) meeting. “Well, I’ll be seeing the two of you.”

Jisung hides in the kitchen, helping out when needed and playing mobile Fortnite on his phone when he’s asked to stay out of the way. He’s sure they might need extra waiters at the Gala, with all the hungry models and their plus ones. Plus, the drinks will be offered up soon, and Jisung wonders just when the Gala will turn into an all-out party. It’s possible that these things stay graceful until the end, but Jisung know how rich people can be around a good bottle of wine. And The Plaza has the best bottles around.

Eloise has already been taken home by Nanny, as her eight o’clock curfew doesn’t quite match up with the Gala’s full schedule. Jisung only knows that she left because she snuck into the kitchen, and just before Nanny found her, she had climbed atop the counter and licked a spoon full of meringue. “Y/n looks so beautiful, Jisung. You really must go dance with her.”

“I really must finish working,” Jisung had said, grabbing the spoon out of Eloise’s hand. Truthfully, he doesn’t want to see you after making a complete fool of himself earlier today.

It’s not like it matters, anyway. He’s a waiter; you’re a model. There are far more important men in your radar, he assumes. You won’t even notice if he doesn’t go.

So he doesn’t. He finishes his shift and takes his leave out the front door, where the snowfall greets him.

He has his own apartment; a little studio flat across town. It’s a subway ride away, and Jisung has come to find that one of his favorite parts of the day is his commute home.

But he stays outside a bit longer, watching as the carriage drivers begin to undo their horses’ harnesses. He watches the fake Santa Claus down the street ring a bell for the nearby children’s hospital. He listens to the taxicabs honk their horns as they disobey basic traffic laws.

“Thought you had to work.” It’s you again, your voice just as bright as it was this morning.

Jisung feels his heart drop into his chest when he spots you at the top of the stairs, dressed in a gown that makes you look like some sort of winter fairy. The ruby-colored fabric matches the makeup behind your eyes, and Jisung has to stop and stare at the way your eyebrows seem naturally dark and unkept. It fits your face, and he draws his eyes down to your lips, where a dark tint resides. “H-Hi. I just got off. Work, I mean.”

You giggle. It’s not a mean laugh, so Jisung tries to file that into the “not embarrassing” category. Then he remembers the words that pour out of his mouth daily, and he thinks he needs to reorganize his mental filing cabinet. “Well, I saved you a dance. Can’t imagine you’d want to go back into the ballroom though.”

“Drunk socialites?” Jisung guesses.

“How did you know?” You wink at him before descending down the steps. The hem of your dress gets wet from the snow, but you don’t seem to mind. Jisung has a feeling your designer will, but maybe that’s not his business.

“Lucky guess,” he drawls, shuffling his feet. “Sorry about the dance. I thought you were just saying that because Eloise was there.”

“I wasn’t,” you say. “I wanted to dance with you.”

“Wanted?”

“Still want to,” you correct yourself. “Do you think I would be out in the snow in a sheer blouse if I didn’t want to dance with you?”

Jisung feels his cheeks flush. The blood rushes to his cheeks, and then to his hands when you reach for them, tucking your fingers in the spaces between his and pulling him close to you. “You lead,” he rushes out. “I’m not very good at dancing.”

You hum. As the wind briefly subsides, he makes out the tune to “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas.” You place one of his hands on top of your shoulder, and keep the other one in your grasp. “Tell me, Jisung, do you celebrate Christmas?”

“Yeah,” he says. “You?”

“Yeah.” You’re rubbing your thumb back and forth against his waist, urging him to move, but Jisung feels himself freeze up with the wind. Then you’re leaning forward, lips close to his ear and warm breath sending a sharp chill down his neck. “Relax.”

Jisung breathes in. Out. In again. He squeezes your hand and squeezes his eyes shut. “Okay,” and he follows your lead.

It’s a simple dance. A bit of a one-two thing going on. Jisung has never danced before in his life – never needed to, but he has natural rhythm, so he follows along without much complaint from you. “Do you dance with every waiter you meet?” He manages to joke.

You lift your joined hands and gesture for him to twirl beneath them. “Just the cute ones,” you say.

“And how many is that?” Jisung hates the waver in his voice. Hates that he manages to gain feelings so quickly. Hates that one (count it: one) nice person dances with him and suddenly he wants to be the only one they ever dance with.

“Just one,” you say, casually. Casually, but you avoid his eyes, and your grip slips just enough for Jisung to catch it. “Tell me, Jisung. Do you work tomorrow?”

“I’m off tomorrow,” Jisung says. “Christmas Eve, and whatever. Family things, you know.”

“Oh,” you say. “I leave tomorrow morning.”

“Family things don’t start until noon,” Jisung rushes. Heat returns to his chest as soon as you smile up at him. “We could have breakfast together. I know a nice place down the road. It’s not fancy by any means, but it’s really good. You’ll have to say goodbye to Eloise, too, of course. Maybe send her some letters when you return home. She loves getting mail–“

“Jisung, can I kiss you?”

Jisung feels himself nod before he can really register your words. By the time his mind finally catches up with his body, your lips are on his, smooth and chilled like a marble surface, and Jisung is shivering into your touch.

Your soft hands cup his face. You pull him down to your height, smiling at the way Jisung’s shaky hands clasp your waist.

When you pull away, you’re still smiling, so Jisung smiles with you. “I would like to send you letters, too. If that’s alright, I mean.”

Jisung sputters and shakes his head. He feels his heart pound as the wind picks up around him. “That’s more than alright.”

#dreamwritersnet #nct au #nct fluff #nct angst #nct scenario #nct scenarios #jisung au #jisung fluff #jisung angst #jisung scenario #jisung scenarios #destwrites #if this isn’t fully edited i’m sorry i have a cold and can’t focus

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writemywaytoyourheart · 6 years ago

Text

BTS Reaction: Easter with you

Requested: nope :) psst, requests are always open!

BTS MASTERLIST ← find all my works here~

Genre: FLUFF❤️

Warnings: None~

a/n: My second BTS reaction you guys!\(^-^)/ I'm still in shock from the support on my first reaction, like I feel like I'm still dreaming. I hope you like this reaction just as much as the last my bbies 💕 p.s. I'm terrible at finding gifs so I'm sorry, but our boys are cute anyway~~ Happy Easter!! (I got a bit carried away the farther down I got I'm so sorry)

Psssssst, read all the boys! They may or may not be connected ;)

KIM SEOKJIN:

Aww, bby so soft~

"Jin sweetie~"

You try to keep the whine out of your voice as you pout down at the cutting board on the counter where you're trying to cut cute shapes into about two dozen hard-boiled eggs. You and your husband were throwing an Easter party this afternoon and you didn't have time for this.

At first the eggs kept rolling around before it was their turn to be cut, then when you got a bowl to put them in, it fixed that problem, but after that you couldn't figure out what shapes to make. You finally decided on bunnies and chicks and a few could just have pretty designs.

Now, the problem was that you couldn't do it. You weren't a terrible cook or a dreadful artist, you were average, but mixing the two, apparently that was way out of your league.

Jin chuckles and looks up at you, still stirring the pasta salad he made for the party. He gives the salad one last stir and then walks over to you and your stubborn hard-boiled eggs.

"What's going on princess?"

"I can't- I'm getting so frustrated right now."

You glare at the little egg in your hand until Jin gently takes it from you. He walks over to the knife block and grabs the smallest thinnest knife then walks back over to you.

"Try it with this knife princess, here, I'll do one first, then you do one." You nod and he holds the egg a bit closer as he carefully carves some bunny ears and then decorates it with black olive pieces to make a cute bunny face. He holds it up in triumph and turns it to show you the adorable design.

"There! Hey, it looks like Jungkook!"

He bursts into his windshield wiper laugh and starts lightly stomping his foot in his laughter. You break down and start giggling with him while you take it so he doesn't drop it.

"It's cute Jin~ I love it! I bet Guk will love it too, seeing as you made it special for him."

Jin wipes tears from his eyes after containing his laughs and gives you a kiss on the forehead, then he takes another egg and hands you one after you put down the bunny one. You smile at him, grateful that he's gonna help you out, since the Easter party was soon and it was more fun with him anyway.

He looks at you with a mischievous glint in his eye than arches an eyebrow.

"Who should we make next?"

A few hours later, the party is going smoothly and you can't stop smiling as you see more and more people arriving. When the Easter egg hunt starts for all the kids you smile while looking out at them laughing and running around. Jin comes up behind you and takes your hand in his.

"You did great princess, everyone is having a blast."

You turn and smile at him, "you did a lot too Jin! Thank you for all the help, and for doing the food." He chuckles and kisses your cheek. Then hugs you tightly as some of the members come up to talk with you two.

MIN YOONGI:

He smile :((

Yoongi was a bit anxious about the party, since there would be a lot of people there and he hoped you didn't expect him to talk to them all. Which of course, you didn't. He wanted to see the rest of Bangtan even though he saw them everyday for work, but strangers? Nah...He wasn't afraid of them, he just didn't like being awkward. He told you his worries and you assured him that he could stick with you and not to worry. You suspected he'd be attached at your hip practically the whole time. Well, you were right.

It was a giant gathering, all the BTS members and their girlfriends and wives, and all of their family members and some close friends along with their little children were there.

You and your fiance Yoongi arrived as the party started, walking into Jin's house where the Easter party is being held. When you two arrived, Namjoon was there with his fairly new wife, and Hobi and Jimin were there with their girlfriends.

"Y/n!! Yoongi!! Happy Easter!"

You see Jin's wife walk over to you smiling and you wave, then open your arms to her. She hugs you and leads you to the kitchen so she can show you the adorable little eggs that she slaved over this morning.

You two fawn over the cute little hard-boiled eggs and you keep telling her how beautiful the house looked with all the Easter decorations. She blushes and is quick to say,

"Thank you, I mean, Jin helped a lot. I can't reach a lot of the places he can."

The both of you talk until Yoongi comes up behind you and back hugs you shyly. You pat his hands comfortingly until you finish talking to your friend. She then goes to greet more of the guests.

Yoongi nuzzles your shoulder and you turn to take his hand, then you go outside to the big backyard where people are mingling and eating the refreshments on the little tables.

You and Yoongi sit on some of the chairs and he keeps your hand in his, rubbing it with his thumbs and absent mindedly messing with your engagement ring. Some little kids come out and start running around with their Easter baskets looking for the eggs that Hobi, Jimin and their girlfriends hid around the yard.

You smile at them and feel Yoongi squeeze your hand slightly. You look at him and notice that he's got a tiny smile on his face as he watches the children run around. You keep watching him since he has no idea that you're looking and you don't want to miss this. His eyes are bright as his smile gets even bigger and turns into his sweet gummy smile.

He finally sees you watching him and his cheeks turn pink as he ducks his head away from you. You bring his hand up to your lips and kiss it while you coo at him.

"Aww, Yoongi~, don't worry someday our kids will be doing that too."

He turns to you and smiles then pulls you into a hug and whispers in your ear.

"I love you y/n..."

JUNG HOSEOK:

Curly hair bby here, uwu

"Hobi love, calm down! We have plenty of time and there is a lot to choose from!"

You laugh at your boyfriend as he bounces up and down in the candy aisle. The two of you were in charge of filling half the eggs for the egg hunt at the Easter party the next day. His smile is glowing and he grabs another bag of jelly beans,

"Look at these y/n!!! They're starburst flavor!! Do you think the kids will like them? Should we get a bag?"

You smile at him and nod so he happily puts the bag into the cart you're pushing around the store.

"Baby, do you think we have enough? Maybe too much..." He looks uncertainly at the cart that he threw a ton of candy into, then he looks at you to see what you have to say. You act like you're thinking then say,

"Hey you know what? I think we don't even have enough yet, a few more bags, and if there's extra we can eat it ourselves." You wink at him as he beams at you than takes your hand and continues searching for candy.

The next day you two arrive an hour before the party so that you can hide the eggs and help finish up the preparations. Jimin and his girlfriend arrive at the same time. You talk with Jin's wife and Jimin's girlfriend while you three plate up different snacks and put them on the tables in the backyard.

You look up and see Jin, Jimin, and Hobi slinking around the yard, scouring for good hiding spots that won't be too hard for the kids. Jin ends up telling the boys he needs to finish other stuff and they can figure it out. You giggle when Hobi catches your eye with a panicked look.

So you and Jimin's girlfriend go over to help them out. Hobi walks super close behind you and every once in a while he points out a good place to put one. Eventually he just clings to you like a koala while you finish hiding the eggs.

"Ohh, jagi I'm so excited for the kids to find them!" You laugh at his enthusiasm and give him a quick kiss on the lips, then give him a high five.

"Good job love, we did it! Now let's go help with whatever else needs to be done." He takes your hand happily and follows you inside to find out what to do before the party.

KIM NAMJOON:

I wanna poke his cheekies uwuu

Namjoon fiddles with the tie that you just put on him. You look at your husband quizzically, "is it uncomfortable Joonie?" You ask him and he blushes then pulls his hand away.

"Oh, no...no it's fine babe." He smiles at you and his dimples show perfectly, you smile back at him and shake your head. You two have only been married a few months and you couldn't be happier.

You realize he's just being his cute awkward self when he has nothing to do. You grab the dress that you've been waiting to wear until today, then make your way into the bathroom. Quickly undressing and pulling the dress over your head you call out to Namjoon to keep him occupied as you finish getting ready.

"Are you excited to see everyone today?"

You can hear the smile in his answer when he calls back.

"Yeah, I see the boys all the time, but all of our families will be there and I haven't seen them in a while!"

You smile and open the door then walk over to him and turn around, holding your hair up.

"Can you zip this for me please?"

"Of course babe." Namjoon ever so gently zips up the dress so as not to break the zipper, being the god of destruction himself. He hums proudly when it's zipped and still intact.

You smile and turn around to show him the new dress. He grins widely and takes your hand to spin you around then he whistles,

"You look absolutely stunning y/n."

You blush and fix his tie again then step back to look him over once more, "thank you Joonie, you look very handsome yourself."

He puts his fingers to his cheeks and starts acting cute as you laugh at him. He puts his face in his hands in embarrassment and walks over to the front door.

"Wait! Joonie wait!" You catch up to him and hand him the veggie platter that you two are bringing, then grab the fruit platter yourself. He holds it cautiously in his hands and starts walking to the car. You smile and call after him,

"Be careful babe! I've only got one platter of veggies!" He nods slightly and continues his treck to the car.

You two arrive a few minutes before the family members start to show up, you greet everyone and hang out with the girls who freak out about the dress you bought, as Namjoon goes to say hi to Hobi, Jin and Jimin. You smile at him seeing how happy he is talking to them.

When the party is in full swing you and Namjoon are out in the backyard drinking punch and watching the kids hunt for Easter eggs. You see Yoongi and his fiance sitting in some chairs and watching the children, smiling. Taking Namjoon's hand you two walk over and join them. Namjoon has you sit on his lap and Yoongi's fiance gushes over your dress as you two chat.

Namjoon snuggles his face into your hair and you play with his hands, enjoying the rest of the party.

PARK JIMIN:

Mochi boy so squish 🤗

Jimin grabs all the grocery bags full to the brim with candy as you finish checking out. He turns to you with a smile and you laugh at his cuteness,

"Jiminie baby, let me help you with those!"

You hold your hands out but he shakes his head and starts walking out of the store. He calls back to you as you scramble to catch up, "I'm fine baby, it isn't even that heavy!"

Back at your apartment you quickly unlock the door and open it for him since he insisted on carrying everything. He walks in and sets everything on your dining table. Then he turns to you and beams,

"Ok then y/n! Do you have the easter eggs?" You nod and run back to your room to grab the bag of colorful eggs you bought the day before. You, Jimin, Hobi and his girlfriend were in charge of filling the eggs for the egg hunt that would take place at the party tomorrow.

You hurry back out and place the eggs on the table with the candy.

"All set baby!"

Jimin smiles and takes your hand to lead you to sit down. He takes a seat as well then starts opening the candy bags while you open the Easter eggs.

The both of you fall into a system of switching between one filling an egg and another closing it and putting it in a big bag then switching again. You tell jokes and funny stories to pass the time and soon enough you two are holding your sides and laughing hysterically. Jimin keeps snacking on the candy and you try to scold him but he puts a piece into your mouth as well.

It's so good that you can't help but eat more and pretty soon you're both snacking on the candy and it's a miracle that you manage to fill the last egg with the amount of candy you've already eaten.

Jimin proudly places the last egg, a purple one, into the giant bag. You both give each other high fives then he pulls you to the couch to cuddle and take a nap after all the work you did.

When you two arrive at the party an hour early to help set up and hide the eggs, you see Hobi and his girlfriend are just arriving as well.

You, Hobi's girlfriend and Jin's wife set up the food while the boys hide the eggs. Suddenly Hobi's girlfriend taps you on the arm and you look up to see Jimin wandering around blankly and Hobi staring at his girlfriend in a panic. You two walk over to help them and you giggle as Jimin hands you a bunch of eggs and smiles gratefully then carefully walks the yard over again to find the best spots, you can see how serious and dedicated he is to making it perfect. Once you finish with the ones you have you find Jimin only has one left. His eyebrows are furrowed as he clutches the purple egg in his cute hand.

"Hey isn't that the last one we filled yesterday?" You point at the small egg in his hand and he smiles at you and nods. You help him find a good place for it right before the other members start to arrive. He looks around the yard happily and you can tell he's super excited for the kids to come and do the egg hunt. He kisses your cheek and grabs your hand, walking over to where Taehyung and Jungkook just arrived with their girlfriends.

You chat with the girls happily as Jimin holds you closely by the waist and gently rubs your hips. The party was super fun and lasted a while, giving you a chance to hang out with your closest friends and sweet boyfriend.

KIM TAEHYUNG:

Everyone say, "TaeTae is too precious~" tis true, my friends.

"What do you think about this one y/n?" You look up and try not to uwu out loud at the sight of your boyfriend carefully finishing cutting an egg shape out of pink parchment paper. When he holds it up to you, you see that he's decorated it with a ton of pieces of different colored parchment paper and added some glitter. It really was impressive.

"It's beautiful Taetae, how did you think of all those colors? They look amazing together! And the glitter really makes it very pretty." He smiles so big that his eyes scrunch up and his boxy smile makes an appearance. He goes over a bit of what he did to make it then asks you to show him yours.

You shyly hold up your pastel green egg that has diamonds and a white bow on it. He gasps and claps his hands together for a good thirty seconds and won't stop smiling as you giggle at him.

You smile as your boyfriend hangs up the last of the Easter egg decorations that you two spent hours making. Then you choke back a gasp as he teeters on the chair, swinging his arms in an attempt not to fall.

"Tae!!" You grab your heart and hurry over to him as he straightens himself out in the awkward stance he acquired being at a height he wasn't comfortable with.

"I'm okay! I'm fine! I'm fine!" You're not sure whether he's trying to convince you or himself that he's not dead as he shakily gets down from the precarious position.

Now safely back on the ground his breathing steadies and he says proudly, "there you go baby! Now your place is all ready for Easter!"

You smack him lightly on the arm, "thank you love, but geez Tae, be careful please! You scared me half to death just now."

He just grins with his boxy smile, "that makes two of us."

A few days later Tae is back at your place where you two are getting ready to go to Jin and his wife's Easter party that will be held at their place. Some people volunteered to bring things, and when you asked if there was anything you could do they assured you that everything was in place and all you had to worry about was bringing yourself and Tae. So that's what you planned on doing.

You were in your favorite Easter dress and touching up your makeup when Tae came around the corner to the bathroom to show you his new shirt for the event. The shirt was white with colored flowers on it, he also had on his wire rimmed glasses and tbh he looked like a snacc and you were sure to tell him that when you saw his outfit. He blushed and giggled then shyly said he wasn't sure if he wanted it tucked in or out and loose, so he asked you what you thought.

You hum thoughtfully as you look him up and down.

"Try tucking it in...."

He tucks it in then looks at you.

"Okkk, now let me see it out."

He pulls it out and looks at you again.

"Mmmm, I like it tucked in."

He smiles and nods while he tucks it into his belt again. You stifle your laughter and say casually as you go back to your makeup,

"I'm kidding, out is better."

His deep laugh erupts happily at your teasing and he pulls his shirt back out.

You two finish quickly then hurry out to the car since you were picking up Jungkook and his girlfriend to go to the party together.

When you four got to the party you see Jimin smile and come over with his girlfriend and the six of you talked while Tae held your hand tightly and kept his chin on your shoulder.

JEON JUNGKOOK:

Pls don't speak to me, I just want to kiss his cheeks 🤧

"What's the matter Jungkookie?"

You scoot over on the couch to get closer to your boyfriend and gently touch his arm. His big doe eyes aren't sparkling like usual and his little lips are turned in a frown. When he feels you touch him he blinks and refocuses on you instead of the blank TV in front of him. He rubs the back of his neck and shrugs unconvincingly, "nothin', I'm fine, sorry." You sigh and start to slowly move your hand down toward his waist. You knew how to make him crack and tell you something; sometimes it was better to do it another way but now, this was best.

His eyes narrowed in suspicion of your moving hand a second too late as you started to tickle his sides. He started laughing immediately and you grinned at his bunny smile returning. You finally let up to let him catch his breath, "ok Kookie, now tell me what's up." You say softly.

He shifts a little then mumbles quietly,

"I wanted to do something for the party tomorrow but Jin hyung said it was okay and we didn't have to bring anything."

You feel your heart drop hearing that your little bunny just wanted to do something to help with the party. He was so sweet. You think for a second and then stand up abruptly. His gaze follows you curiously. You walk into the kitchen and call out for him to follow you.

When he reaches the kitchen he sees you pulling two cartons of eggs out of the fridge and he notices that you set some weird colorful looking kit thing on the counter.

"Uh, y/n? What're you doing?"

You quickly grab a pot and fill it with water before setting it on the stove and plopping all the eggs in carefully.

Then you turn to him and put your hands on your hips in determination.

"We, Jungkookie......are going to have some fun!"

An hour later, you and Jungkook are sitting at your dining room table and he's bouncing up and down in his chair in excitement while you sort out different cups full of different dyed colored vinegar.

Finally you give him the signal to start and he grabs a few different eggs and gets right down to business. You start dying your own eggs and glance up at your cute boyfriend every once in a while. He's going all out with all the different supplies in the coloring kit and he does his signature little head tilt every now and then when he's trying to think of a new design. He's so zoned into his work that he doesn't say anything.

You smile at him and keep working on your own hard-boiled eggs. After about half an hour Jungkook makes an irritated grunt. You look up and see that one of his eggs rolled while still wet and got splotchy. You get up and move to his side,

"Baby, these are amazing! They're the best Easter eggs I've ever seen!" He blushes and mumbles a thank you before pointing at the smudged one sadly,

"Except that one....it's ruined.." You look at it and tsk your tongue at him then take it and hold it up. "I don't think so, it actually looks pretty cool like this!" And it did still look cool, since the golden maknae himself did it. You two finished up and he went on about how good your Easter eggs looked and you just shook your head and laughed. Then he hugged you tightly and said, "thank you baby, that definitely made me feel better." You just hummed and hugged him back, happy that he was back to his old cheery self.

"Honey are you ready?"

It was the next day and Jungkook was at your place to get ready for the party; you hurry into the living room and grab your purse. "Ready! Did Taehyung say they're here?" Tae and his girlfriend were going to pick you and Jungkook up to go to the party together.

"They'll be here any minute, you look beautiful by the way." He smiles at you and your cheeks turn pink. You mumble a thank you and give him a quick kiss on the cheek.

Once you four make it to the party you immediately see Jimin and his girlfriend come over to talk to you all. Jungkook is back hugging you the entire time and keeps playing with your hair. What a cute bunny.

(let's just say his day got even better when Jin gave him a hard-boiled egg shaped like a bunny, saying it was just for him.)

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hyuckles-chuckles · 6 years ago

Text

the mall — l. haechan

haechan doesn’t enjoy the gift you give him so he decides what he wants from you and takes it.

pairing ; lee haechan x reader

other character(s) ; na jaemin and kim yeri

genre ; fluff, frenemies!au · word count ; 0.7k · rating ; pg · warning(s) ; a swear word.....twice

request ; “haechan + 3 : ‘buy me something.’ + 50 : ‘i think we’re even.’” by @jeonguggie!

masterlist ; 1 year of adobe

a/n ; don’t you just love a sassy, annoying haechan, because i sure do hahahah

The mall. It could be a fun place. A place where you can shop for over-priced things, eat over-priced food and hang out with your friends. It could be a really fun place, but you were stuck with Haechan for the time being while your mutual friends were still on their way.

“I’m bored,” Haechan sighed as he sat next to you in the food court as he munched on your fries.

“You didn’t have to come so early,” you said.

“Neither did you,” Haechan sang as he smirked in your direction.

You just rolled your eyes. There was no point in arguing with this man child.

You and Haechan had never been the best of friends, but when with others you two could have a good time. By yourselves you just wanted to throw your fries in his face and run away.

“Hey,” Haechan announced. “I have an idea.”

“What might that be?” you sighed, not really interested in what he had to offer.

“Why don’t you buy me something? We could get on our feet and look for stuff I want.”

“That’s hilarious!” you laughed out loud. “You think that I’m going to buy you something? That’s cute Haechan.”

“You think I’m cute?” Haechan asked, obviously looking for compliments.

“Your thought was cute,” you said in annoyance. “And no, I’m not going to buy you something.”

Haechan sat leaned back in his chair, upset at your words in not buying him anything. Even though you really didn’t want to buy him anything, it made you feel weird things when he looked all pouty.

“But only if you buy me something in return,” you said last which brought a smile on Haechan’s face.

“You’re on!” Haechan exclaimed as he took your fries and ran to a store.

You rolled your eyes as you started to leave the food court for a store to buy something for that boy.

You walked up and down the mall trying to find the right kind of gift for him. You don’t know why you put so much effort into this gift but you found the perfect one that described him the best; a fidget spinner with the poop emoji plastered on it.

(Y/N) [14:24]: i’ve got your present

(Y/N) [14:24]: where do you want to meet? back at the food court??

haechan [14:25]: sure, i’ve got yours too!

You walked back to the food court, surprisingly the table you had left was unoccupied so you sat back down in your previous seat.

You started to fiddle with your phone until Haechan decided to poke your sides, causing you to jump in surprise. He laughed at you as he sat down as well.

“Here you go,” Haechan said as he offered you a tiny bag from a clothing store. In it was a pair of funky socks. “I know you like collecting socks.”

“Thanks Haechan,” you said as you looked at them, purple in colour with different brightly coloured shapes placed in spots all over.

“Ahem,” Haechan fake coughed, glancing at the bag with his present inside.

“Oh, here you go,” you said as you pushed the bag along the table to get to Haechan.

You looked to see his face as he opened the bag. First it was shock, then annoyance, and then to his usual smirky self.

“Really?” he asked as he took the spinner out of the bag and out of its box to give it a spin.

“Yeah, it represents you well, right?” you teased.

“I want a different gift!” Haechan whined. “I put so much effort into your gift!”

“You ate all of my fries, I think we’re even,” you said as you leaned back and crossed your arms.

“Well, I don’t think so,” Haechan countered.

“What are you going to do about it Haechan?” you shrugged.

And at that, Haechan got up from his chair and kissed you on the lips briefly. “Now we’re even,” he smirked.

You didn’t know what quite to do, you were shocked at what he just did but you were still kind of happy about it.

“Did that really happen?” you heard your friend Yeri ask from behind the two of you.

“I think so,” Jaemin answered as he laughed.

“It’s not what it looks like!” you defended, but it didn’t help that Haechan put his arm across your shoulder.

“Okay, sure,” Yeri said as she sat down at the table.

“So, how did this happen?” Jaemin asked, curious as to how the people that could barely stand each other suddenly start kissing in the mall.

“(Y/N) got me a fidget spinner,” Haechan said confidently.

“Because he’s shit,” you added while picking up the spinner with emoji design.

“Yeah,” Haechan said with heart eyes. “Your shit.”

requests for 1 Year of Adobe are closed but you can still look forward to my most recent drabbles and the ones that are soon to come!

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alitheamateur · 6 years ago

Text

The Grind-Chapter 28

The eve of fight night fell, and Colton was exhibiting extremely peculiar behavior. Not a bad type of peculiar necessarily, but the man just wasn’t his usual self. When I woke up to head for a swim at Temple, the bed was empty on his side and he hadn’t left a note, or word with my parents as to where he disappeared off to. In fact, according to mom, he must’ve left the house before 6 a.m. when she and dad left for their walk. It was a routine they had with the dog back home, and they had been continuing the morning exercise while on their visit to the city.

When I got to my locker at the gym, there was a single Peony taped to the handle, and a square yellow note tied to it’s stem. The easily identified chicken scratch belonged to the missing man in question, so I tore it open jaggedly to gather some answers.

Livvy,

Enjoy your swim, & don’t you dare think of doing anything in the weight room. I told Cal to watch you. You have a noon appointment with that girl who does your hair, & a 10 a.m. massage too. I have some stuff to take care of today but be at home and dressed by 6 tonight. Wear that white dress I like. The one from that party at the Pilot a couple months ago. And don’t eat. I’ll check in later. I LOVE YOU

Colton had been a lot of things the last year, but romantic was a new side. He rendered me speechless from heartbreak, pleasure, and laughter on a fair amount of occasions, but this was unfamiliar lands. Never did I believe such a cynical, wild, tormented soul like his could conjure up the cleverness or the desire to throw together whatever plan he had in the works. But I’d obey the orders, and call mom to steam the crisp white, ankle-length, summer gown he referred to from the office gala event he suffered through as my plus-one, and it’s also the first instance he suckered me into bathroom sex in the family stall. The thin, flesh-hugging stretch of the drapery curved into me, and the low-cut of the back allowed him a subtle peep-show during the owners speech, which had him nearly feverish for a taste of me before the main course was served. I was chatting with Ryan who was seated at our dinner table, when Colton told me I looked a bit peaked and needed a few minutes of good ol’ fresh air. Thoroughly confused, I followed his lead as he took my hand guiding me through the bar area into the public pavilion of the venue. The details are a bit foggy, but I can’t forget the memory of his thirsty tongue licking a bead of summertime sweat from the valley between my breasts.

I concluded on returning to my natural blonde look at the salon, and sang the praises of the on-staff masseuse at SJS Salon on my way out the door. The unwind of my slow laps in the therapy pool, and the exceptional massage had me exuding peaceful relaxation. After the continual sessions’ day & night at the gym, in the cage, in the weight room, at the Pilot, some self-love and spa time was the perfect prescription for a Zen Liv. And I wanted all my tensions free and clear before I met up with Colton for this mysterious evening ahead, so I could fully enjoy the company of my perfectly imperfect companion. Wherever the pathway of our evening led, I knew I’d retire home once it was said and done feeling cherished, and probably horny.

I was puckering to smooth out a plentiful layer of rose-shaded smudge proof lipstick at my lighted vanity when I saw my mother peep around the unlatched door. I looked away from my own reflection to see hers smiling back at me from over my shoulder, as she brushed my hair back curious to discover my earring choice. This overly-feminine, lady-like and sophisticated side of her only child was a glimpse of the daughter she wanted 10 years ago when I was wearing sweats to school every day, and only wore heels for prom or homecoming dances. Mom stayed dressed to the nines every day of the week whether it be a run to the post-office or even a check of the mailbox, so seeing the vision of herself even more so in me now with sleek hair, and a posh taste in stilettos was probably the proudest she had been in a decade.

“Honey, you look excellent! Your little nose healed up just perfectly too, I see.”

Of course, mother. That’s what most important, ay’?

“Yep. It feels fine now. Thanks, mom.” I pursed my mouth, tucking both lips in a stark line and misted a lavish amount of Colton’s favorite perfume onto the exposure of my neck.

“Do you have any ideas what Colton has planned for you? You’re dressed awfully formal.” My mother asked turning her head to survey the final touches of accessory to my ensemble.

“He told me what to wear, and when to be ready to go, so that’s about the most I’m aware of. He’s been pretty shady today. And we both know he’s developed a keen talent for lying lately, seeing as how he managed to get you and daddy here.”

The last text I received from him at 2 o’clock that afternoon was a strange selfie of he and Andrew at the forefront of an impressive Styrofoam cup pyramid they’d apparently built on the display counter at The Grind. Those two had become quite the odd pairing lately, but I was happy Colton jived so well with at least one of my friends. I assumed he just went by the shop for his usual black coffee to-go, and Drew simply asked his assistance on a new merchandise display, which turned into the two of them goofing.

Mom checked her waterproof, step counting watch for the time as she followed be into the bedroom I shared with Colton. “It’s 5 minutes to 6 right now, Livvy. Have you talked to him?”

My heels clacked when transitioning from the carpet, to the tile down the hall. I clicked the unlock button of my cell to place a call to the very man sitting on an arm of the couch in an open stance, with those hefty forearms pushing in his knees. He stood upon hearing the soft tick of my heels step over the rug under the coffee table, and I was able to get a much desired, exploratory look at the very, very surprising dapper two-piece suit he sported. It was an oxford blue, atop a slightly wrinkled button-down shirt that he left casually, and very appealingly gaping open just enough to taunt me with his pecks. He was explicitly, lethal and delicious in the foreign dress of any sort of formal attire. Maybe more so even than those perfectly snug gray sweats I pulled off him on many an ‘afternoon delight’ occasion. That is, assuming I have to have him clothed at all.

“Well hello there, Mr. Ritter. Someone is looking exceptionally handsome tonight, I see. I must say you wear this look well, babe.” I admired, pulling on the lapels of his jacket to situate the wrinkle of his shirt. I tenderly grazed a manicured nail over the freshly shaved goosebumps of his neck, and smiled romantically looking up to him under extended lashes.

“You two enjoy yourselves! Tony and I are going to grab some dinner, and we’ll lock up when we get back. I’m sure it’ll be a late night for you guys,” mom spoke up, still standing behind me undetected. Colton tilted around me to smile appreciatively at her before she turned in pursuit of the spare room where dad was napping.

“Will you ever walk into a room ‘n not instantly have me wantin’ to rip off whatever you wearin’, baby? You look…you look fuckin’ perfect, Liv. I mean that.” He fiddled with the every-day, dainty, gold letter pendant I wore as he spoke, then touched his pointer finger to the heart-shaped opening at the center of my satiny lips.

I wondered reasonably if we’d ever even make it passed the 4 walls of our bedroom seeing the adamant, alluding examinations we were trading in the silence of our family room.

“As long as you promise to replace whatever it is you just have to rip off, then be my guest by all means.” I popped one shoe-covered foot into the air, and boosted up on the other desperate to touch myself to his mouth.

“Get. The hell. Out. That. Door. Now. With ya’ teasin’ little ass.” Colton palmed the front of my dress to clutch over the warmness of my womanly center.

We altered his plan a bit, and decided my car would be the most practical option for transportation considering the height of my designer heels. Once we exited the driveway, I couldn’t help but blast him with pestering questions, and chatting.

“Just sit tight, ‘ight. We ain’t far. You can hold out a few minutes, Livvy. A surprise here ‘n there ain’t gonna kill ya’.”

I unhappily sat tight as advised and waited a drawn out 10-minute car ride that steered us to a parking meter on the street near The Grinds’ entrance on the sidewalk. The white light of the ‘open’ sign that would’ve typically been plugged in the window was powered off, along with the appearance of any other lights, or evidence of business behind the door.

“Colt? What are w-“

“No more questions, okay? Hold on.”

I watched him shove my keys from the ignition inside the pocket lining of his coat, to jog around and assist me from the passenger seat onto the concrete walkway. I smelled something fishy, but I couldn’t place a sure finger on it just yet. With one arm clinging around my average size waist and the other holding my hand, we waited for the street sign to change then scurried along the crosswalk. Colton confirmed the time on his watch just as he gestured me to enter the strange darkness of the generally busy coffee shop.

I couldn’t move much passed the entry mat laying in front of the doorway due to the pitch darkness of the room, so I waited intriguingly for my next instructions. Colton moved in behind me and stepped straight for the location of the light switch he was apparently familiar with. Rather than the hardwired overhead lights of the café igniting with the flipping on of electricity, twinkling, warm garden decorations on green strands taking their place. The dusky glow hanging over our heads bared a table for two waiting empty in the middle of the open floor, and some sort of urbane, bubbly beverage sweating inside a tin bucket of ice. Calm, lazy melodious music struck up, and I finally escaped my confusion to scan for Colton.

“These a’ for you, baby. The best, for the best.”

He offered me a familiar a pink, fluffy bouquet which had become his apparent staple over the last year, and I could smell the odorous fog from gift laying in my arms. Taking a closer look over his face, I noticed he’d groomed up exceptionally precise, and his beard had been combed and trimmed. Colton Ritter may have even been wearing hair product, Ladies and Gentlemen. His matured facial lines, and the barely detectable softening sag around his eyes added a story-telling detail to his aging mug, but I admired every frown line, and ghosting scar.

I rested my arms over his shoulders, dangling the hefty bouquet in my hand behind his back to settle in for a lengthy embrace when a begging, muffled reverberation of hunger grumbled from my empty stomach.

“Well, you did tell me not to eat, silly!” I patted over my angry insides to stifle its interruption.

“I got just the thing to fix ya’ right up. Here. Let’s get you in a seat and I’ll be back.” He took my hand, and I took the seat he offered up, placing the flowers in a waiting vase at the center of his table spread.

Colton lit four small tea-light candles with a zippo frim his pants pocket, and kissed the crown of my freshly washed hair.

“I like the blonde, by the way,” he winked dragging his feet backwards to disappear into the back kitchen.

A few clanging plates and some ruffling feet could be heard as I sat legs crossed, and chin rested on my elbows. Mother Liz always cut my arms with a slap when I would prop my elbows up onto the tables, chastising my etiquette or lack thereof. I repeatedly listed off a careful list of the ‘important dates’ to mark the many milestones of our relationship to assure I hadn’t forgotten some crucial event on this day. There had to be some reason Colton had gone to such odd, starry-eyed measures, and my nosey, sharp-witted journalistic side was beating me to death to get to the real story hidden under wraps.

STOP IT! Let the man have this. Don’t ruin it because you’re a meddlesome pest who can’t just enjoy a surprise.

Just then, a smell so aromatic and reeking of garlic wafted like a puffy cloud of deliciousness into my nose. I inhaled deeply through my nostrils to trace the yummy culprit, and found the man exiting a revolving door that hid the kitchen. He had two enormous, blotchy, grease-stained pizza boxes marked from my very favorite deep-dish joint stacked in one arm, and a covered Dutch oven dish cradled in the left arm. Colt’s tongue peeped like the head of a snake from the corner of his mouth, walking strategically careful so not to drop the hot contents of his clutches.

“So, since you trained so hard, and it nearly killed ya’ cuttin’ out all those carbs, I figured you’d maybe want some’n downright filthy ‘n covered in cheese to hit the spot. Drew tried to tell me I should get some fancy takeout from that place you two are always goin’ to, but I knew this would suit ya’.”

He opened one of the boxes to reveal a cheese deep-dish smothered in sliced, tender black olives.

“You want me to eat the whole thing?” I chuckled with a large goading laugh, and quarter-sized eyes.

“One fa’ you,” he answered sitting himself to open the other cardboard box in his place setting. “’and one fa’ me.” Colton rubbed his hands together anxiously, like a giddy boy about to dive into an ankle-deep mud puddle.

“But you may wanna save a lil’ room for this too, baby.”

I watched as he pulled the sturdy lid from top the black dish, and fluffy, warm steam rolled from the inside. Peeping over the edge in anticipation, I discovered a dark chocolate, gooey treat, topped with whole praline pecans and stringy caramel drizzles.

“Colt, you made that? All by yourself?!” I smiled adoringly when the look of utter pride beamed from his coy face.

It was a turtle dessert my mom taught me to make, and my absolute favorite. Colton had stayed been at my old apartment one night, back before the fight, and said he needed a ‘sugar fix’. The city was covered in powdery snow and muck, with temperatures reaching their lowest degree all winter. Neither of us could stand the thought of leaving the warm solace of my couch, so I whipped up that same dessert for him. We demolished the entire contents straight from the dish, sharing a spoon for vanilla bean ice cream on the side.

“Liz wrote the ingredients down for me, but I remembered pretty well how you made it that night. Don’t be gettin’ all wound up before ya’ even taste it now,” he tittered taking his first bite of pizza.

We ate majority of each cheesy pie, (him asking for a slice of mine) then hysterically cackled for a good half hour after he sampled (and gagged on) a swig of my favorite merlot from a local winery. When our favorite Bob Dylan tune struck up on his iPod, I asked him to dance, and he obliged hugging me tightly with one arm, and gnawing on the last piece of pizza he clutched to in the other. The raw, real-life imperfections of the moment that would’ve had most females curling a lip in disgust, and trouncing far, far away from a man with such qualities as Colton Ritter, only had me needing his presence in my life more so.

“How’d you pull this off Ritter? I must say, I didn’t know you had it in ya’, babe.” I muffled with a full mouth of his well-made chocolate cake as I dabbed the corners of my mouth.

“Just called in a favor to my pal Andrew, no biggie. The bastard only made me pay him 200 bucks to make up for his ‘lost profit.’” Colton used his most sardonic air quotes to underline Andrew’s no doubt tantrum for his role.

“You been workin’ so damn hard, Livvy. And I just wanted to do somethin’ to make you feel special. Help ya’ relax and take the edge off of a lil’ about tomorrow night. ‘N judging by those sexy, heavy little wine eyes you been givin’ me, I’d say I did a fine job.”

The excellence of the entire evening, hand-in-hand with now a present buzz of red wine after so many months, made the air around me feel as if it touched my skin like expensive cashmere. My insides felt as if they were humming with muggy decadence, and no unkind thought weighed on my mind.

“Oh God, stop it!” I covered my face, ashamed of his insinuating light-weight insult.

“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on, Liv. I ain’t just sayin’ shit right now. I mean that. You’re perfect now, jus’ like this. And ya’ perfect on the couch with your face painted in one of those goopy masks you put on before you check your work email at night.” He leaned over the round table, mazing through the empty boxes, and melting candle wax staining the tablecloth to encase my fingers. Any fool could see there was nothing but earnest passion in his eyes, and a blatantly truthful, sureness in his voice.

“I love you. And don’t sell yourself so short! You are the perfect one. Even with all those demons, and whatever else is hiding in that head of yours.” I wanted to caress and pet his always warm cheek, but the distance between us caused me to settle for a tight squeeze of his hand, and a kiss to his scarred fingers.

“A perfect man wouldn’ta let somebody like you get away, baby.”

“Stop with that! We’re here now. Together. And we’re happy. Plus, there are more important things going on right now we should be worryin’ about.”

I knew I could back out of my fight right now, even the night before, and Colton would support my decision without hesitation, and anyone else who didn’t, would suffer at the hand of his consequence. The reality of what I knew I’d be doing only a few short hours from now, was a frightening one. But, one that I had agreed to for myself at the hands of no ones’ force. I wanted to make Colton proud of me for something more than just having my nose shoved in front of a computer screen 10+ hours a day. I had to prove to him, the world, my parents, and mainly myself that I was capable of greatness. That I had the potential to step out in faith, and achieve something like this with some courage like the old Liv.

“We’ve done everything in the gym we possibly coulda, baby. You’ve done everything. You need t’ believe in yourself like you were always tellin’ me. I’ll be there standin’ in that corner for you, I promise. And if ever you wanna cut it, just say the world ‘n we’ll walk outta there first round. You can do this, 2-1. Clear eyes, remember?”

“Thank you, Colton. For being the man that you are, and sticking with me through this even though we both know you hated the idea. And for all this God, it’s incredible, really. I’ve desperately needed some alone time with my guy.” I scooted to the front ledge of my chair, resting on the table to wink suggestively at the tantalizing specimen opposite my gazes.

“Calm ya’self, you dirty girl. I know wha’s goin’ on up in the head o’ yours. I got one more place I need to take you. Then, I can assure you…. I can really fuckin’ assure you, that I’m gonna get real good and close to every piece of your creamy skin under that dress.”

tags: @torialeysha @eap1935 @littleluna98 @mollybegger-blog

#Tom Hardy #tomhardy #tom hardy fanfiction #tomhardyfanfic #tomhardyfanfiction #elizabeth olsen #tommy conlon #thegrind

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quiet-onset · 6 years ago

Text

Real Life (4)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 1,363 (this was supposed be a drabble idk lol)

Tag List: @girlwhoisfearless, @lordemjay, @skeletoresinthebasement, @givemeanorigami

A Cold Front

“You look like death.”

“You flatter me, James.”

It had been about two months since you moved into your new Brooklyn home, with Bucky’s help, of course. You’d been dreading the day you had to move those boxes, but having a certain gorgeous super soldier help made your day extremely better.

However, that same day, you noticed you lived next to a family with two kids. They’d immediately taken a liking to you and Bucky.

The girl, Kenzie, asked Bucky all kinds of peculiar questions about his metal arm. Could he lift an elephant with it? How many magnets did he think it would take before it was weighed down? Did it come in purple? Bucky answered them all with a smile.

The boy, Dylan, was a bit older and wanted to know if he could join SHIELD. You had to explain to him that he had to be a bit older, but he said it was okay. “I’m gonna help people anyway.” He had told you.

They were sweet kids. And it was those same sweet kids that had gotten you sick.

You hadn’t bothered getting properly dressed for work; no one was going to see you. You just needed something comfortable and functional enough for you to finish your current project; Steve’s new shield. Shuri’s shield had gotten a little beat up over time. Those days, she was so busy in Wakanda, she didn’t have time to fix it. So you assured her that you were okay to make him a new one.

However, with your puffy eyes, stuffy nose, and sore throat, you weren’t sure how much longer you could last.

“You’re sick. Why are you here?” Bucky asked. He stepped into your workshop, kicking aside a few stray tissues that missed the trash can.

You blew your nose, “I work here.” You crumpled it and tossed it to the trash can, watching as it just tipped onto the floor from the rim.

“Not so good at basketball, huh?”

“I’ll have you know, I am great at basketball.” You sassed. “Take away the court, the hoop, and the ball, and I’m a natural Michael Jordan.”

“I’ll pretend I know who that is.”

You laughed as best you could under your sickness and pushed a stray hair from your face. “So what’s up?”

“Well, I came to ask about Steve’s shield, but you obviously can’t finish it right now.”

“Pfft, yeah, I can. That’s what I’m doing. See?” You pointed to the prototype that was still being worked on. It was a combination of his old shield and Shuri’s design. You’d talked to Steve about what he wanted, and he assured you that the Captain America he was when he joined the Avengers was not the same man he was now. “We decided to keep the circular shape of his old shield, as it provides more spacial protection, and add in Shuri’s tech. Ya know, retractable claws, retaining kinetic energy, that sorta stuff.”

“Sounds like you’re all done then.” Bucky nodded.

“Nope. See, the electromagnetic force from the—“

“Y/N, you know I’m not gonna understand a word you say.” He chuckled, making you make a noise akin to a snort. “Just take a break. You’re sick, and you need to rest.”

“I’ll rest when I’m done.” You said, holding back a sneeze. When you finally let it out, Bucky snorted. You turned your head, “What?”

“Nothing.” He shrugged. Crossing his arms over his chest, he looked down at his feet with a tiny smile on his lips. “‘S just cute, is all.”

You turned back around to hide your grin, the heat creeping up your neck in a wave. You picked up your mug and took a long drink as you finally turned around to face him. The scent of coffee filled your nostrils as Bucky looked at you in amusement. “Is that coffee?” He asked.

You nodded.

Playfully rolling his eyes, he reached down into your mini fridge and pulled out a bottle of water. Ignoring your curious gaze, he tossed you the bottle, “Heads up.”

“Water?” You chuckled.

“Drink it.” He said, heading for the door. “I’ll be back.”

You bit your lower lip as you watched him walk away. The floating feeling in your stomach only became more erratic as you thought about how he thought your sneeze was cute. It was a simple thing, really, but to you, it meant everything. This opened up a whole world of possibility. What else about you did he think was cute, if anything?

You couldn’t remember the last time you felt so worked up over a man. You’d dated a few guys, but they all proved themselves to be the wrong one for you. Whether it was due to work or family, there was always something wrong. With Bucky, you found yourself praying there was nothing wrong even though you two weren’t officially together.

An hour later, as you connected another two wires together, causing sparks to fly, you heard a knock at your door. When you looked up, you saw Bucky, his hair pulled back in a bun at the nape of his neck, allowing all of his prominent features to shine, even from a distance. He held a tray in his hands with a bowl of soup and a cup of tea atop it. He nodded to the couch across from your workspace. “C’mon.”

“Bucky, what is this?” You asked, fidgeting with your fingers as you followed him.

“If I can’t convince you to go home, then I’m gonna make sure you take a break.”

You sat down next to him as he set the try on the coffee table. You noticed there was no medicine, which Bucky had quickly picked up on. “You won’t need medicine after this soup. It’ll clear up your system in a day, two tops.” He assured you. “Try some.”

You slowly picked up the spoon, sniffing it as best you could. The steam helped clear your nose a bit, a plus. And the soup smelled pretty good. Finally pushing the spoon past your lips, the hot soup soothed your sore throat, but tasted like a dirty sweatshirt. Your face scrunched up immediately, and you turned to Bucky. “It’s… good.”

Bucky laughed at your disgusted face and shook his head, “No, it’s not. It’s helps though. I used to make for Steve all the time back in the day.”

“Back in the day.” You muttered with a smirk, causing him to nudge you with his elbow. “I can’t finish that. It’s gross.”

“Okay, it’s gross, but it’s not that gross.”

“I’d like to see you try it.”

He shrugged and took the spoon from your hand, surprising you as he quickly downed three spoonfuls of the disgusting soup. “There.”

“Bucky! You’re gonna get sick!”

“I’m fine.” He waved you off. “I’m a super soldier. Super soldiers don’t get colds.”

“That’s not how genetics work, James.”

“C’mon, just eat the soup.” He said, scooping up a spoonful. “Here.”

Your heart began to beat at the speed of light as he brought the spoon up to your lips. Bucky hadn’t even thought anything of it until he looked at your lips. He forgot how kissable they always looked (even when you were sick, apparently). Even with your hair a mess, your eyes puffy, and your nose just lightly tinted red from the stuffiness, you were the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.

Your eyes locked, he slowly fed you the soup, pulling the spoon from between your lips just as you swallowed the putrid soup. You tried your best to keep your face from scrunching up again, but the taste of the soup prevailed. Bucky let out a nervous chuckle and cleared his throat, his gaze finally breaking from yours as he set the spoon on the tray. “So just, um, just finish the soup and the tea, alright? I just want you to get better.”

He began to walking towards the door when you called out to him, “Buck!” He turned back toward you as you fiddled with the spoon, the metal still warm. “Stay with me? Ya know, to keep me company.”

He smiled, “Of course, doll.”

Forever Tags:

@kimmy-h-life, @ben-platt-deserves-the-world , @thewordofthenerd, @wishuponastarlana, @yumel21, @here-for-your-bullshit, @bethbat, @iamafangirlofeverything, @loveisloveandmorepeopleneedit

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes imagine #marvel x reader #Real Life series #bucky barnes fanfiction

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daveshevett · 2 years ago

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Virtuscope Cyberdeck Build

New Post has been published on https://planet-geek.com/2022/08/22/stuff-n-bother/virtuscope-cyberdeck-build/

Virtuscope Cyberdeck Build

Somewhere in the 2nd year of the pandemic, I stumbled across a posting on Hackster.io about a design for a ‘Cyberdeck’.

A what now?

For those who don’t know, the term Cyberdeck was coined by William Gibson (the inventor of the terms “Cyberpunk” and “Cyberspace” by the way) to describe a piece of computing equipment used to to jack into the net in the future. These fictional machines were basically the hot rods of the grunge tech and hacker scene, able to do anything from simple education stuff all the way to allowing a talented hacker to penetrate the most well protected systems out in cyberspace. They were fast, personalized tech that marked the owner as someone serious about hacking.

BootDSC’s Original Cyberdeck Design

I’ll admit, I’ve read everything by William Gibson, Neal Stephenson (you know, the guy who actually invented the term ‘metaverse’?), Bruce Sterling, and Philip K Dick. In particular, Gibson’s portrayal of Ono-Sendai decks that could jack into and surf cyberspace are well wedged in my psyche. The idea of building and customizing my own ‘deck was too good a concept to pass up, so I took the plunge.

The Printer

There are basically 3 major components to a build like this. The case, the keyboard, and the computer. While it’s possible to build your own keyboard and computer, I wasn’t ready for all that, so I used off the shelf parts for that. The case, however, I’d manufacture myself.

The first phase of this was to get my 3d printer up and running again. I’d been doing a bunch of printing, learning the ropes as it were on how to use TinkerCAD and Cura to take a shape and turn it into a Real Live Thing. I built a healthy respect for people who operated industrial equipment. 3d printing isn’t a push a button, get an object system. It requires constant tinkering, adjusting, repair, and fiddling to keep it all working, and there’s a million small ‘tricks’ you learn in the process to keep a 3d printer running smoothly. It’s a good feeling when you can get your system dialed into the point where you can just power it up, prep the surface, and say “PRINT THIS”, and it works.

Some smooth first layer porn.

My printer (a Creality CR10) had been acting twitchy for a while. I’ve used it for a couple projects in the past, but nothing serious in the last year or two. The problem(s) turned out to be a combination of bad bed levelling, bad bed prep, and a completely horked print nozzle. Once I got those straightened out, I was printing clean, flat prints without any fiddling. I was ready!

The Design

I have to give full credit to BootDSC and the full on Virtuscope design on Thingiverse. This was my first exposure to decks, and I immediately went “I WANT ONE”. Fortunately, the Cyberdeck Cafe website had an entire build page that details all the parts needed. I set up my printer and started printing components, dove into Amazon and various websites to order the parts needed.

Printing the frame, hinges, panels, and other components took about a week. In that time, some of my components had started to arrive, most importantly the Raspberry Pi 4 that was to be the heart of the system, as well as a Geekworm X728 LIPO battery/power module. Screen, keyboard, and other componentry arrived over the next few days.

Display portion of the lid

Gluing the base panels together

This was my first decent ‘build from scratch’ project, and I learned early on I was missing a lot of build supplies. M3 screws and nuts, bolts, a good rotary tool (I had been using an old Craftsman tool I bought 30 years ago? But it died a horrible death partway through the build. The Ryobi rotary tool is excellent, though it really does sound like a dentist drill while in operation).

Eventually I had all the pieces I needed, and I could get on with the build.

I wanted to make one relatively large change – I wanted to use a touchscreen. The 7″ HDMI display I used has a ‘mouse’ function in it that connects to the Pi via USB cable. The problem though is fitting it into the lid of the deck was problematic. I ended up redesigning the lid to give it more ‘depth’ to allow the driver board and cabling to fit. Probably my first real 3d design project – I also had to redesign the component bay lid to make room for the new larger lid and hinge. Multiple prints later, it all fit together the way I wanted it to.

Bench testing the display and controller and realizing the lid needed to be deeper.

This is one of those projects that will really never end. I’m constantly modifying the design, adding new components, removing others. I found that the power connection setup on the back was really awkward, so I designed and printed a USB-C port to go in the opening. This means the whole thing can be recharged via USBC cable, or just run off a power adapter. Win!

I also ran into a problem with the touchscreen USB cable, which, as it came from the supplier, had a 6′ long cable with a ferrite core on it. I picked up a kit to allow me to truncate the cable and put a new end on it, but it turns out I got the wrong connectors. So I ended up just chopping the cable in half and soldering it into an older USB-A jack. I only need about a foot of cable, so that worked great.

The Final Product

I love how this looks. I love knowing that I built it, and there’s no other one thats just like it.

So what’s next?

There’s still stuff to do though:

The keyboard setup (a Royal Kludge RK61 USBC / Bluetooth keyboard), while fitting perfectly into the case, I find sort of difficult to work with. The ‘modifier’ keys are awkward and easy to get confused, and as it sits now, I can’t run it off USB while in the case. I have to pull it to recharge it and reconnect via USB.

The rear panel needs more love. The system is supposed to support a secondary Wifi interface to allow it to run Aircrack-NG and other tools without taking down the primary interface. I have the parts, but haven’t put it all together.

Finding the final location for the ‘stack’ (CPU and power board) is proving slightly problematic, as I need space for the USB connections and other wiring. Until that’s locked down, I really can’t mount the boards. I may jsut drill and mount them anyway to keep things from banging around.

Still need to get hte lid closures working – this can be done with a magnetic plate, but it seems a little iffy. May come up with something else.

Mouse input. Sigh. I had hoped the touch screen would work for this, but it really doesn’t. The screen is small (7″) and my finger is fat. I may explore using a stylus, but I think I’ll need some sort of trackball or thumbwheel or something.

Viewing angle – this may be the killer for me. For the lid / screen to work well, the viewing angle has to be relatively laid back. To do that, the hinge and cabling need to be very flexible, and finding that space is mighty hard. If I can’t solve the viewing angle problem, this will be likely remain a toy project, and not something I can use seriously.

Conclusions

I LOVED doing this project. It looks cool, I can say “I BUILT THAT” and I can keep tinkering and making it better. The Pi4 is enough horsepower to have fun on it, while still having decent battery life. Once I get the mobility stuff fixed up, I’ll start carting it around more.

#3d printing #cyberdeck #linux #maker #Stuff n bother

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mrscookielopez · 8 years ago

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A Klance Oneshot

Lance goes through some old junk and stumbles upon an old present that makes ponder about his relationship, and how lucky he feels.

(An attempt at a Klance oneshot inspired by sevenfivetwo’s VLDKdrama au! It’s more on the domestic and fluffy side of things, at least I hope so, and could be seen as a season finale, Lol. Idk but my writings terrible, so tread carefully.)

Lance found himself staring at a black leather choker one quiet afternoon. He had been looking through boxes of old junk to throw out and make way for some new junk. It had taken a couple of weeks for the mini-mountains of their boxed stuff to finally be reduced to three little ones, each holding simple and common things that seemed too important to throw away.

There were dried pens, Yu-Gi-Oh and Pokemon trading cards, scraps of paper filled with faded scribbles and smudged pencil marks, and other such things. Lance started to separate the stuff into piles, one the absolutely-throw-out pile and the other the ask-Keith-later pile. It went on for awhile, Lance sitting crossed legged on the floor and nosily looking through old things.

And then came the black leather choker.

The thin strap was wrinkled and frayed at the edges from overuse and mindless fiddling. The buckle in the back was broken and slightly cropper-ish brown from nights under the rain. Lance traced a finger on the heart shaped pendant that hung in the very middle, a simple design that wasn’t meant to stand out, and it was suppose to be a sweet little present.

Lance had worn the choker so much so that it had become a habit. He had worn it every time Keith and Lance went on a “date,” which became a regular thing every Monday, Wednesday, Friday, and the weekend. The early days of his and Keith’s relationship were bittersweet memories. Partly because it had started with a paid agreement, which made it hard for Lance to believe in Keith’s feelings for him sometimes.

Lance had been dating the aloof smartass for almost two years, and it was both unbelievably perfect and a living nightmare. Don’t get it wrong, Keith treated Lance like a damn queen, but it was almost too good to be real.

Lance often worried that he’d wake up one horrid morning to find himself in an empty bed with no trace of Keith. Lance had fallen hard for Keith, and that thought alone scared the crap out of him. All the messy dates, terrible kisses, awkward hand holding, and arguments the both of them went through meant as much to Lance as the cute nicknames, the anniversary dates, and the feeling of home in each other’s arms.

It was like a dream and Lance was scared to death about the cold bucket of water that’ll force him awake.

“Hey, babe.” Keith murmured, careful not to startle Lance even more than he has, and squatted down next to him. “I brought take-out on my way home. You’ve been craving the cheddar and broccoli soup from Paul’s Diner, right?”

It took a moment for Lance to fully come back to the here-and-now, to blink back unshed tears, to realize that Keith was there with him. It took him a moment, but when Lance felt Keith wrap his arms around his waist, it was like a rush of warmth that he clung toward.

Lance turned to face Keith, smiling as he cupped his cold face in his warm hands, bringing their lips together in a chaste kiss.

"I guess I did a good? What is it so I can do it again?” Keith smirked, wrapping his arms around Lance’s waist. “Was it the take-out?”

Giggling and wrapping his own arms around Keith’s shoulders, Lance started peppering small kisses all over Keith’s face, “No, not the take-out. Just reminiscing and thinking about how lucky I am to have you.”

“Pretty sure it’s the other way around, but please don’t stop.” Keith mumbled as he became distracted by the gentle pull of Lance’s arms, and the warm lips.

Time passed as the two became engrossed in each other, Lance sharing small kisses just shy of suggestive and Keith submitting to the slow, innocent pace. It wasn’t until Keith’s back hit the wall that he remembered there was food going cold in the kitchen counter. Though reluctant, Keith pulled away from the addictive man he had grown to crave and said, “Food. There’s food we gotta eat before it gets cold.”

Lance gave in, his stomach choosing that moment to rumble, and stood up. He yawned and stretched his limbs as Keith stood with him. A clink caught his attention and Keith glanced down to find a familiar choker laying on the floor.

“Hey, I remember this.” Keith picked it up, fiddling with the ends, “It’s been-what? Two years? One and a half? Since I brought you this choker.”

Keith glanced up at Lance, who made his way to the hot n’ ready food waiting on the counter. Keith smiled as Lance dug out everything from the paper bag and called out to Keith to come join him.

#VLDKdrama #klance #lance #keith #terrible writing #i tried #sevenfivetwo #au

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theunaccomplishedwriter · 8 years ago

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Breaking the Surface - Chapter 3: Brown Eyed Girl

Wow, I did not expect this to go on for so long but I guess I had a lot to say this time around. Hope you all enjoy it and please don't forget to leave reviews, favourites and follow if you really like the story! It is all really appreciated! I do not own Sing or any of its characters. That's Illumination Entertainment's stuff. I just own my OCs.

Also you can read and follow this story on it on Fanfiction.net or A03. Please have a read, leave comments, like and reblog!

Grabbing his wallet and shoving all the money he could find and knew was his into it, Lance shoved the slightly bulging plastic into his jeans pocket and sped out of the apartment door. Checking his phone for the cheapest places and the bus routes, Lance luckily caught sight of the coach he needed, sprinting towards it and quickly handing the money to the tired looking crocodile bus driver. With that, Lance quickly moved to the nearest free seat, making sure to sit at an angle so save breaking his quills and making the seat look more like swiss cheese.

Right, if I'm doing this, I'm doing it properly Lance thought, beginning to rattle off mental to do list. First off, I need business cards. New business cards. Don't think many animals will want my old ones. The memories of how his old cards had not yet subsided. Every joint Lance had visited after what he was now terming 'Ashgate' all had various ways of rejecting him.

After showing the bar's, club's or pub's manager his card, his full name embossed on it with his contact details and intricate L shaped logo, the managers would look at the card and seemed to have several options at their disposal.

The first one would be to ask him to leave politely, which at the start was fairly common. Then they all appear to have a meeting after a few weeks and decided asking him to leave impolitely was the best course. After a month or two, they must have had group chat open to discuss the Lance problem as they started asking him to leave with some nice bouncers. This appeared to be the norm until after Ashgate where the managers all must have had a little chat on Skype as all their bouncers seemed to be far too keen on throwing him out of the door.

Finally, they must have really had his persistence and the fact that, unlike Becky, he wasn't seeming to be getting the message so a couple of months ago Lance was asked to leave for the last time in the most courteous manner possible by a pack of patrons, chasing him from the bar throwing bottles and glasses after him, before chasing him down the street hurling the most well intended slew of profanities.

They should write a book about that Lance mused. 5 Easy Steps to Get Rid of Unwanted Performers. Glancing out the window, Lance realised how perilously close he had come to daydreaming past his stop. Hitting the stop button and holding onto a metal bar as the vehicle lurched to a halt, Lance flung himself off, yelling back a sharp shout of thanks to the irritated driver, ignoring his angry comments and began following his phone to the first destination.

His phone indicating his arrival, Lance gave the shop a quick once over. It was a pleasant enough looking brick building, with a sweet, understated pink sign with the words pins 'n' things looking as if it was transposed directly from the owner's handwritten message to the sign makers.

Pushing the door aside, a little tinkle coming from the bell, Lance looked round the shop. It didn't look like a standard stationery store, all straight lines and lifeless, this had more of a feel of a knick-knack place, filled with knitting things, tiny ornaments, plant pots, teddy bears and other plushies, china tea sets that only grandmothers on TV own, as well as the eponymous pins.

A young warthog, ear pierced, jet black hair with a line of blue, and idly fiddling with her phone stood behind the counter, not even realising Lance's presence which was unsurprising to be fair, the shop being about as populated as the moon.

"Hey" Lance said, moving over to the counter. "You do business cards, right?"

"Yeah" the warthog said, her yes not leaving the phone as she continued to type away.

"Well can you get me some?" Lance said, a little irritated at being ignored.

"Sure" came the monotone response, her hooves still clacking away at the phone.

Lance's limited patience was beginning to wear thin.

"Today please!" Lance exclaimed.

The warthog finally looked over at Lance with slight annoyance.

"Alright, don't get your quills in a knot" she replied, putting her phone in her pocket. "You got a design or something?"

"Yes, here" Lance replied, pulling out a sheet of paper and tossing it onto the counter.

The warthog picked it up and have it a quick scan, her face already judging his work.

"Er, not too complicated. How many d'you need?"

"I guess fifty to start with, like a start pack you know, then I can come back for more."

"Sure, whatever" the warthog rudely replied. "They won't be ready for a while, come back in an hour or two."

"Sounds good. Later"

"Later yourself" she replied, she attention straight back to her phone as Lance left the teen in the all too happy surroundings.

Exiting the shop, still a bit miffed by the warthog's manner and making a metal note to catch her name next time, Lance started gently walking down the street, taking in his surroundings. What with all the daydreaming on the bus he had only just began to realise that he wasn't actually sure where he was. Not seeing a sign or anything, Lance checked his location on his phone, with it bringing up Apolovia, Anopolis.

Huh, not heard of it before. Lance had thought he'd gigged quite extensively round the city. He'd been in numerous places, went a load of places with Ash and Becky, seen a load of things. Lance was sure this was just an anomaly. But, searching on the maps of the city, Lance started seeing names and places he hadn't even heard of, let alone set foot in.

How do I live here three, nearly four years now and barely leave the city centre? I've barely scratched the fucking surface.

Groaning a little at his lack of exploration, Lance decided just to search for his next item on the to do list. A cheap music shop. He knew that most animals would have their own guitars to learn but Lance just knew that some might not be able to afford expensive equipment like that off the bat. Hell, he remembered saving up for his first guitar that wasn't bought for him. So something simple that most animals could use would be a huge boon for business, so long as he could get something for a reasonable price.

His phone eventually brought up something that reviews all raved about it's reasonable prices and, quite fortunately, it wasn't too far away so he didn't need the bus again. Setting it as his destination, Lance once again obediently followed the electronic female guide.

With time to kill before his cards would be ready, Lance's legs began to look mat this new area in a bit more depth, looking at everything with new eyes as if he were an intrepid explorer looking discovering a new land.

The buildings weren't anywhere near as sleek and modern as the ones he was used to in the city centre, the architecture of the area seeming to be at least half a century old. Every structure he passed seemed to show the tell-tale signs of age. The concave rooftiles trying to hide its bald spots with moss coverings, brickwork wrinkled and blemished, windows faded and unfocused. The pavement slabs were wonkily put together and the road with untreated potholes. It was if the very street itself had been through a traumatic accident and the surgery, while successful, could never restore it to its previous physical prime.

Yet, despite its age and ailments, the street breathed life through every pore. Each building, though showing its signs of wear and tear, were all painted in glorious technicolour, celebrating its age while embracing the new, each window filled high with weird and wonderful stock that differed spectacularly from one pane to the next. The road, despite its handicap, was packed with cars, buses, and lorries, all adding to the incoherently soundtrack, with the jammed packed with animals of all species and persuasions, making their way here, there and everywhere. The street, no, the entire district was buzzing with life.

Lance, taking this all in, marvelled at the stark contrast to the clinical city centre. Free of animals, the city centre was as sterile and silent as mortuary, without any semblance of the personality that it had been in the daylight hours of its life. Apolovia though, even one first glance, breathed life through every nook and cranny, roaring with sound, refusing to be silent, exuding energy from every particle of its being.

That's it Lance thought, his pace barely that of a snail's. The place's energy. The constant charge of something. That invisible electric feeling that meant that something, anything, was on the precipice of happening. It could be something momentous or minor, life changing or life ending, but no matter what it was, it was there, just in touching distance, the faint spark within touching distance, waiting for someone to grasp it and feel the surge of change.

And, for the briefest of moments, Lance felt the static possibilities against his paw tips.

Shaking himself from his thoughtful reverie, Lance returned his attention to his phone, resuming his march to the music shop.

After leaving the main road, swerving this way and that through the grid like streets, the artificial navigator finally announced that they had arrived. Looking up at the shop in front of him, Lance wasn't particularly impressed. From the outside at least, the bottom layer of what looked like an unused apartment building looked like a rundown nickel and dime sort of place, a dull and damaged neon sign that read Marv's Music hanging above the door. Posters of bands and albums were plastered all around the windows to such an extent that it looked more like a notice board than something to advertise what the shop was actually selling.

Looking away from the shop and taking in the street he was on, Lance felt that the shop could not be more out of place if it tried. Down the road was a chic café that, despite the beginnings of autumn chills that September brought, had a smattering of students sprawled around outside street side seating areas.

Giving them a quick once over, Lance could tell their type immediately. Reclining in the hardback chairs, sipping the remains of their espressos, probably conversing on some notion about the decadence and impotence of capitalism, all the while keeping their eyes glued to their Chinese made phones while sporting their Bangladeshi sweat shop shoes. Yep, those were first year students, all entitled and ill-informed. They'd learn things weren't so black and white soon.

Directly across the street there was a book shop that, by the look of it, was only remaining upright through sheer force of will, the rest of the building above it trying to squash it from existence. The windows were straining from the books piled up high against it, a thin line at the top letting in its ration of natural light, and a musty smell wafting out of its open front door that could be invaded Lance's nostrils despite standing on the other side of the street.

The owner, a studious badger, was clearly visible in the doorframe, sitting behind the counter, paying no mind to the porcupine looking at him from across the way nor the sole bibliophile in his shop, so thoroughly enraptured in his own tome, or at least as enraptured as you could be behind drooping eyelids.

Looking back over the way he came, Lance spied a vintage clothes shop he somehow neglected to notice on his way down. Glass House, the name just legible at Lance's angle, appeared to be a standard sort of store, full of fantastic wares at exorbitant prices.

I should know Lance mused; the punk look doesn't come cheap, especially for porcupines.

The owner, a black-backed jackal dressed in torn jeans and untucked lumberjack style cheque shirt, lent against the door frame whilst taking a drag on her cigarette. The few animals that walked past her shop instead of deigning to enter, all silently judging her carcinogenic habit, were met with eyes that screamed complete and utter indifference, as if she didn't care that they could possible patronise her shop, allowing them to walk away with their internal condemnations and bland apparel.

Eventually returning his gaze to the store in question, Lance gave out a sigh and pushed the door open. Stepping inside, a single word popped into Lance's mind. Instruments. The place was festooned with instruments. Crawling with instruments. Instruments up the bloody wall.

Violins and mandolins, saxophones and banjos, xylophones and oboes, acoustics and drum sticks, and electrics that verged upon being completely eccentric. Everything was shoved into corners, attached to the walls, and in some cases hung from the ceiling with cords. If you told Lance that someone had decided to store all the world's instruments into this pokey little shop, in that moment Lance would have believed them wholeheartedly. Lance was surprised there was actual floor space, let alone room to move without him sucking in his gut.

Negotiating his way through the crowded room, Lance eventually made his way to a small opening at the back, revealing a till with a large red door behind it, and to the right of it large set of stairs for the next layer of the store.

Bounding up the stairs, Lance took a quick look at the upper floor. If the bottom floor was where the tools of musical creation was kept, then upstairs was where inspiration was sought. In the era of digital downloads, this place seemed to be out of time. CDs were stored by the rack, cassettes bundled in baskets, vinyl resting in piles, some having been leafed through as many times as a librarian's secret erotic paperback delight.

Venturing up the stairs and taking in the many musical delights, Lance aimlessly flicked through everything on display. It had everything. You name it and it was there. Ray Charles. Ed Sheeran. Joan Jett & the Blackhearts. Dereck & the Dominos. Nirvana. The Animals. Santana. The Beastie Boys. The Beatles, together and solo. N.W.A. Tracy Chapman. Amy Winehouse. Queen. The Afghan Wings. Marvin Gaye. Spoon. Can. Joy Division. David Bowie. The lost went on and on and on.

Wandering to the back of the room Lance noticed a small room with a heavy black door, the paint slightly chipped away revealing its metal flesh. Shrugging his shoulders and pushing the door open, Lance jaw nearly dropped off. It was a soundproof booth. He'd seen them before but usually they were like telephone booths so you could stand and listen to terrible quality music in privacy with gunged up headphones. This however, hell it looked like a professional recording booth. It was big enough to fit a good group of animals in to all just rock out to whatever music they wanted to hear, with a huge touch screen of music embedded into the wall listing anything and everything.

Exiting the room and taking in the entire spectacle before him, Lance could only think one thing in self-chastisement.

How the hell have I never been in here before?

Eventually coming down a little from the musical high he was on, Lance made his way back downstairs. While his eye roved over everything around him, picturing himself playing anything and everything, Lance tried to keep his focus on guitars. Cheap guitars. Browsing their selection, Lance proceed to marvel a certain guitar, pick it up, feel the smooth wood in his fur, the metallic strings against his paws and worn-down claws, then catch a glimpse of the price before sullenly putting it back and repeating the process with the next one along. By the sixth guitar, Lance was beginning to believe that the reviews were something the owner put up himself to get animals through the door.

If this was the cheapest place to get a decent guitar then I might be stuffed Lance reflected.

"Lookin' for sumit?"

Jumping at the voice, Lance turned round quickly to face the source but quickly found nothing.

"Oi, down here!" the voice sounded, slightly exasperated now.

Looking down, Lance saw what appeared to be a middle-aged pine marten, his unblinking eyes staring up at him, his face set with the tired expression as if he had been unceremoniously woken up. His clothes reflected it, a shabby looking white t-shirt with a couple of splodges of what looked like jam and washed jeans that only held what appeared to be a vague memory of the blue they used to be.

Is this the owner? Lance questioned internally.

"So, you gonna speak or have I gotta get someone that speaks dumb-dumb?" the tiny mammal spat, his eyes looking with him a dollop of condescension.

Well that answers that question then.

"Er, yeah" Lance replied, finally finding his voice. "I'm starting to teach guitar and I need something in case the students don't have their own gear."

The pine marten gave him the once over, foot to head, as if examining whether this animal was worth the time of day or whether he should go back to whatever exciting activity he'd been up to. Under the mammals unflinching scrutiny Lance, for all his bravado, couldn't help but feel a little off centre, even if the guy barely came up to his chest.

After looking as though he was mulling something over in his head, the gecko eventually shook his head, blowing out air as if he were accepting a daunting challenge or quest.

"Alright. What sort of size you lookin' at?" came the unenthused reply.

"Oh erm…" Lance hesitated.

The gecko sighed loudly. "Size of guitar numbskull!"

"Hey! Back off short stack!" Lance growled, getting a bit pissed off with the guy's attitude.

"Make me Stripes!"

Stripes? Lance thought? Where'd he get Stri… He quickly looked over his stiped t-shirt, striped long shirt underneath and the brown and white stripes in his quills. How has not noticed that before?

Taking Lance pondering for submission, the pine marten appeared to calm down.

"Alright Stripes, so I'm guessin' you're pretty new to this shtick so, and tell me if I'm right, you need somethin' in case an animal doesn't have a guitar of their own so you can get them into lessons and scoop the cash off them. Am I right?"

Lance, surprised by the guy's ability to succinctly understand his reason for visiting, merely.

"Thought so. Alright, now we're getting' somewhere. I'm guessing acoustic and, by the look at you Stripes" the pine marten said, giving him an exaggerated look "I'm guessing something cheap." Lance fought to keep the scowl off his face as the pine marten moved over to the guitars.

Don't piss him off. This place is cool. You may want to come back. Just play nice, get the guitar, get out.

"So, if you're wantin' something basic and for most animals, my guess would be about your size. You don't get a lot of elephants rockin' out do you? Or mice for that matter. It's why I get to up the prices for overly large or my size guitars. Make a killin' out of it. Your size though? Not so much. So a medium good enough for now Stripes?"

"Stop calling me Stripes and just get me a damn guitar!" Lance retorted petulantly. The pine marten merely shrugged.

"Hey, you're the boss Stripes" he replied, before suddenly whipping out a ladder concealed in between the rows of guitars and swiftly ascending before climbing all over the hung guitars, hopping from one to another with agility a frog would envy.

Climbers, what d'you expect? Lance thought, watching the pine marten expertly navigate the instruments before returning to stare at the shop floor.

Wonder what else is hidden in this place Lance thought, looking around, the sheer scale of the operation within such a tiny space still boggling his mind.

Employee aside, this Marv guy knows his stuff.

"Hey, found you one! Looks better than you do!" the aforementioned employee called out. "Get ready to catch!"

"Catch? Catch wha - "

Before Lance had time to process anything else, Lance looked up to see a guitar sailing down towards him at a rate of knots. Half swearing, Lance reached up to the guitar on reflex, flexing backwards paws outstretched, only managing to stop the instrument's decent mere inches away from his face. and barely managed to catch it before the thing clattered with his face.

"Pff, that clo-oooh, ow!" Lance yelped, losing his balance and falling to the floor, the guitar slipping from his grasp and hitting his head with a musical thud.

"Hey, don't go breakin' my stock Stripes! Now get up off your ass, you're clutterin' up the place." the pine marten scolded, somehow now standing over Lance's prone form, barely holding the laugh in his gut.

"Come on, get up ya bum." He said, offering a paw.

"I'm fine" Lance said, rejecting the offer, the pine marten retracting the offer with a shrug.

"Warn me next time you're gonna do some crazy shit like that!" Nearly smashed my head in."

"Hey, it would have been an improvement! Now come on, time's money, what d'ya think?" he said, gesturing to his choice.

Picking up the downed guitar, Lance gave it the once over.

It had certainly seen better days. It looked like fourth if not fifth hand. The wooden body had a few scuff here and there, the headstock having a few notable scratches and looking like it had been attacked with a knife at one point on the right hand side, with a section of it missing revealing its dry interior. The once shiny frets were dull, but at least all remaining. The strings at least looked now, without the excessive wires hanging off the top like you see some guitars.

All in all, it seemed fairly standard. Nothing too fancy, a bit busted but he wasn't looking for perfection, just something playable. Lance moved his paw over the strings. Sliding it up the fret, thy let out a soft metallic whine, making his quills shiver

That's the good stuff Lance thought, his eyes closed in bliss.

"Hey! You buyin' it or askin' it out? I ain't got all day ya know?" the pine marten grumpily interrupted.

"Mind if I give it a go?" Lance asked, choosing to ignore his comment, though the message didn't seem to reach his face which was plastered with a disgruntled look.

"Sure, whatever. Just don't break a string or anythin'. Wait, actually do. Need to get rid of some out back. Been cloggin' up the place since God knows when."

Ignoring his belly-aching, Lance sat on the ladder step since a chair apparently being the one thing the shop didn't have stuffed into it.

Getting comfortable, Lance closed his eyes, trying to think of what to play, going through his own material in his head, thinking what would sound good acoustically.

It wasn't a long search, his self-penned sure-fire hits not being too numerous to begin with and, no matter how much Lance tried to convince himself, he couldn't shake the feeling that an amp was needed to make it sound good.

Whatever, I'll do something else Lance conceded, his paws already manoeuvring into the opening chords.

Starting to play, Lance felt a sensation come over him that he had not felt in a while, a comfortable sensation, as if slipping back into a well-worn coat. His paws and arms moving with practiced skill fluidly, his actions precise yet with a natural calm flow. He hummed gently, near inaudibly, the words never escaping his lips, his eyes closed, not even the song he was playing even reaching his ears. He just let it happen, let it all flow out of him in silence, as the guitar spoke his silent soliloquy.

With the last note played, Lance opened his eyes, his paws still holding down the last chord. Smiling gently to himself, Lance suddenly realised he hadn't actually heard himself play, which is kind of a no-no when you want to hear how a guitar sounds.

Looking up, he saw the pine marten staring back at him with an unusual expression. Gone was the slightly patronising look, his face now had an inquisitive look, his head slightly tiled, his previously tightly folded arms now loosened. He seemed to be meditating on something, his eyes looking at him, rather beyond him.

"So erm" Lance began, breaking the silence "seems alright, least you're not giving me something unplayable."

The pine marten remained silent, still looking at Lance as if he was some strange curiosity.

"Yeah…" he eventually replied, his tone lower and eyes narrowing "seems like it."

A moment silence befell the two. What's happening here? One minute he's all in your face the next he could be a living statue. What gives?

"Well!" the pine marten exclaimed, returning to his past exuberance "we got a sale then or what Stripes? I've got stuff to do ya know?"

"Sure, seems alright. And don't call me Stripes."

"Sure thing… playboy" the pine marten said, a smirk tugging at his lips, his fangs revealing a little.

Lance paused. "What did you just say?" the anger rising in his voice, his paw clenching.

"What? You think I don't know who you are Mr Lance, heartbreaker and this month's internet's most infamous coming up to three months running? I may be getting on but I'm not a total geezer yet. I still know how to do the Facetube's an everything." He mocked, the grin becoming a full-on smirk with hints of laughter in behind his words.

The anger was rising behind Lance's eyes, his grip on the guitar fret tightening, his quills quivering with rage. Yet the mustelid kept going.

"You wouldn't believe the amount of animals coming in here after that article came out. So many animals were pissed! I even had this one guy come in, alligator I think, saying if he ever saw you he'd be hard pressed to not rip you apart there and then with his teeth. And he was one of the milder ones!"

He let out a huge belly laugh, not even registering the darkness welling in Lance's eyes, his entire being shaking but his mind still restraining himself. He'd heard it all before and worse.

"God, I'd not seen anger like that in years! And here you are, the notorious Lance! God, if I went out there and yelled you were here, I don't think I could ever get this shop clean! Doubt the Police would bother though, not with your scrawny ass. Probably convince themselves it was self-defence or something. Or maybe suicide. Probably wouldn't even send your dear old mother a message saying her cheating little boy had copped it!"

With that Lance lunged forward, grabbing the pine marten by his collar and hoicked him up, bringing him level with his eyes.

"Shut. Your Mouth." Lance said with cool anger.

"Touched a nerve then? He replied, his voice without a trace of fear.

"More than touched you fucking oversized rodent." Lance spat, the bile rising in his throat.

"I've had enough of your shit. Now, you take back what you just said or you and this guitar and gonna have a bit of disagreement." The guitar was now raised above the mustelid's head, Lance eye's not leaving the pine marten's almost bored eyes.

"You think a threat's gonna work here? I've handled worse than you Stripes. You're not cracking the top ten here mate. Just put the guitar down, buy it and leave. We can pretend this never happened."

Lance anger began to slowly diminish, realisation creeping into his eyes, becoming acutely conscious of precisely what he was doing.

"Okay, maybe I overstepped the mark a bit but, considerin' your reputation right now, d'you wanna add beating up a mammal half your size and twice your age to that? I mean, come on. You're dumb, but not that dumb."

Lance relaxed, the guitar slowly falling to his side and gently putting the mammals down, shame creeping into his mind and trickling down his face.

"Sorry" Lance mumbled, his voice thick with remorse.

"S'alright." He replied, fixing his crumpled shirt. "We both went a bit too far there."

"No shit Sherlock" Lance replied.

"Yeah, just get so into ribbing animals I sometimes I forget to get to know their limits first. Anyway, we'll draw a line under it. Not mention it again, 'kay?"

"Sounds like a good idea." Lance replied, a faint smile appearing for the amnesty.

"How 'bout we start over? You know, pretend like you've just walked in and we'll both act all professional and shit."

Lance let out a little chuckle and extended a paw. "Sure. I'm Lance, guitar teacher to be, rock star in the making and social pariah. Nice to meet you."

Giving a genuine smile, the mammal took his paw and shook it firmly. "Nice to meet you Lance. Marv Parten. Music store owner, mouthy git and fashion trendsetter."

Lance laughed now with Marv joining him, the tensions evaporating as the cries of joy reverberated off the instruments.

Leaving the shop, Marv called out to the now forty dollars lighter Lance.

"Great doing business with ya Lance! Come again, maybe we can make this a weekly thing?"

"Sure thing Marv, you daft bugger." Lance jovially replied, earning a laugh from him before the door clanged shut.

Readjusting the case strapped to his back, hoping it didn't damage his quills to badly, Lance began to walk back to the stationary store, his mood brightened a little after the initially awkward exchange.

Now just to get those cards and you can head on home and slob out like you intended with the day Lance though, hitching the case again as he re-entered the busy main road of Apolovia.

Smiling at the thought, Lance entered pins 'n' things with renewed vigour. The warthog smiled as he entered and handed him his finished business cards in a little plastic case. Lance even managed a half-genuine smile and thanked the warthog for her help and handed another load of cash.

After briefly dealing with the unhelpful warthog, Lance was now leaning his shoulder against the wall outside pins 'n' things looking at his new business cards. They looked pretty damn professional if he did say so himself. No loud emblems or outrageous designs, just plain white card with a serious looking type face that read:

Mr Morgan's Guitar Lessons

Flexible Work Schedule

Teaches Beginners to Advanced

All ages, sizes and species welcome

Please message for inquiries

And with that Lance had left his email and address below, but decided at the last minute to forgo giving out his phone number. Who can't send emails on their phones? Lance reasoned, as well as the fact he didn't want animals spamming his phone and didn't feel like dealing with a personal and business phone, especially if the amount of animals wanting to skin him alive were true from what Marv had said. It was why it was Mr Morgan as well. No first names. Just business. No drama.

His lips curling in approval at his shrewdness, Lance pushed off the building and span round to head to the bus stop.

Sofa slouching here I – oof!

As he whriled round, Lance clattered into a furry blur, spinning the fuzzy obstacle to the ground while Lance let out a surprised grunt and dropped the card to the ground before the exploded out of their case and fluttered away like dandelion seeds all around him.

The irrational anger that comes free with such unfortunate incidents filled Lance's core, causing him to spin round ready for an argument, to hell with his apparent ill reputation.

"Hey! Watch where the hell you're go…"

Looking at the prone form on the ground, Lance's anger came to an abrupt halt.

Collapsed on the ground was a young raccoon who, even from a rear view, looked as if she had seen better days. She was wearing a long dark green sweater with the common criss-cross pattern, the arms trailing over her paws and looking threadbare and frayed at the edges. Her jeans looked as though they had last been in the washing machine four years ago, if the stains, rips, the fact they finished in the middle of her shin and came with an unnecessarily tight look was anything to go by.

Her scuffed shoes weren't any better. The right one looked as it was barely clinging to life and the left one looked as if it was being held together with a rubber band. Her striped tail looked near entirely black, with the amount of grime and soot clinging to the fur. The rest of her fur looked like it hadn't been groomed or washed in that day, or week. It stuck out in odd places and had a slightly greasy look, as if she had just rubbed herself in fast food.

Seeing this spectacle Lance's concerns about his cards withered and died as, after the initial shock, Lance dropped down to help her up. Taking her sleeved paw, he gently helped her up, the raccoon giving little winces as she did. Setting her up on her unsteady feet, the girl kept her head down, as if afraid to meet Lance's gaze.

"Hey, are you alright?" Lance asked, gently touching her shoulder.

Instinctively recoiling from the touch, the raccoon's face shot up and her eyes met his so quickly and piercingly that Lance couldn't help but be a little shocked.

Her deep, wavering brown eyes looked at him with confusion and a little notion of fear clinging around the irises. Her face went taut and her ears immediately pinned themselves back to her skull. She was like a deer in highlights. Completely frozen, waiting for some inevitable fate to befall her.

"Hey, I'm not going hurt or anything, okay? I just want to know you're alright." Lance said softly, holding his paws up placatively.

The raccoon, gaining some semblance of awareness, the raccoon nervously looked around, taking in the scene.

"Hey, you o -"

Before Lance could even finish his sentence, the raccoon turned tail and started sprinting away as if fleeing a crime scene, bumping into animals as she went, causing jeers of annoyance as she made her escape.

"Hey, wait!" Lance called out, but too late as the surprisingly speedy procyonid zipped around a corner and out of sight, leaving Lance with his arm outstretched in a moment of genuine concern.

Lowering his arm, Lance began collecting his cards that remained strewn on the floor. Fortunately, there hadn't been any wind blowing around and the animals moved round the disturbed area, allowing Lance managed to scavenge most, if not all, of the cards off the concrete.

Popping the last few up into the plastic case after a couple of minutes, Lance noticed something in his periphery. A small brown case. Curious, Lance went over, picking up the light object. It was a wallet; the small pattern-less container was scuffed, with the brand's name worn off from years of continuous use.

Curiosity getting the better of him, Lance opened up the wallet. No cash, but the wallet was packed full of receipts. Snarlbucks, Dragon's Coffee Wagon, Queen Bee Tea. Whoever it is, they sure like caffeine Lance chuckled to himself.

Slipping to the card holders, it was completely barren. No credit cards, debit cards, loyalty cards, membership cards, nothing.

Guess I might as well bin it Lance thought. It's only got rubbish in it so it might as well join the rest.

Looking over to a nearby bin, Lance went to lob the wallet in, already getting the basketball commentary in his head, before a small piece of plastic fell out of one of the tears in the wallet, spinning to the ground.

Picking up the white plastic, Lance turned it over to inspect it. It was a provisional driver's licence with the unemotional face of the raccoon he had just bumped into. She looked better in the photo. Her fur didn't look greasy, her eyes unemotional but unafraid, her ears slightly perked up, there was even a faint hint of a smile. She looked nice. Pretty, even. Much better than she was a few minutes ago.

Looking over the licence, Lance saw her details. There wasn't much to see, a lot of it having scratch marks that obscured most writing. Only one piece remained barely legible and, thank fully, it was the address: 754 Senna Row, Paneris, Anopolis.

Quickly putting the address into maps, the route popped into view. It wasn't too far, about a ten-minute walk or so. Lance shrugged the guitar case to a more comfortable position, his quills beginning to hate the case, before making his way towards the raccoon's home

To say that the quality of housing declined the closer he got to Senna Row was a bit of an understatement. More like it took a nosedive into the fiery pits of Hades.

From the delightful stone and brick buildings of Apolovia, by the time he reached Paneris the stone structures had been replaced with shabby wooden shacks. They were worn and dilapidated, with a pervading smell of rot and damp circulating the entire area that no amount of conscious effort could blot out.

Instead of the hustle and bustle where animals were everywhere and celebratory noise was a constant, unsettling silence hung heavy through this district, only punctuated by the occasional shout or scream in the distance. A few teenage mammals hung around chain link fences, smoking a shared cigarette and giving Lance looks as if they were marking their next hit. Lance avoided their gaze, but kept his eyes steady, puffing his chest out slightly and walking with slight exaggerated confidence. He knew these sorts of places and how to carry himself.

Looking weak and lost was just asking to be called out and possibly beaten up and mugged. Lance had had his fair share of it when he first came to Anopolis. He had learned how to exude confidence and machismo prior to his arrival, but being in areas like this help drive the point home of it being a 24/7 kind of thing, something that helped to make animals think twice about approaching him on the streets, but also somehow managed to help him persuade managers to give him gigs. Well, it used to help.

Sweeping his memories away, Lance's phone finally buzzed that he had reached his destination. Looking up at the house, Lance could see why the raccoon looked the way she did. The place was a dump even by the area's standards.

The roof looked like it was about the cave in at any second, the windows were either smashed or boarded up, the wooden boards looked like it was on the verge of disintegrating. God knows how animals managed to walk on the porch. There were a pile of papers and letters clumped together by the door, as if the postman had given up trying to push them through the letterbox. Weeds were even growing up through the porch and climbing up the building, as they had already taken over the front garden and path.

They're probably the only thing keeping the house standing.

Lance started to wonder whether it was worth going up to the house. There didn't seem to be anyone home, but then again, he doubted that the house had any electricity, or they couldn't afford to pay their bills without a ton of benefits. Suddenly Lance felt lucky that Becky was even giving him a chance to stay in her comparatively luxurious apartment.

I could be in somewhere like this again so easily Lance thought. No Lance, it's not going to happen. You're talented and everyone is going to see it. You'll be living in the lap of luxury and this'll all be just a distant memory.

Emboldened, Lance walked up the porch and knocked on the door.

No response.

Okay, try again.

Still nothing.

Lance knocked a bit louder.

The house or its occupants weren't seeming to be getting the message.

One more try and I go.

With Lance' paw raised, the door cracked open, with a dark brown eye peering out at him, a slice of a face looking out at him.

"Oh erm, hi." Lance started, nervously waving his paw. "Sorry for erm, disturbing you and all that but erm, you er, you dropped this."

Lance pulled the wallet out of his pocket, holding it up to the peeping eye. The eye, widening slightly, before darting between the wallet and its temporary keeper, slowly shut the door. Hearing a rustle and clunks of a chains, bolts and locks, the raccoon finally came out, leaving the door ever so slightly ajar behind her.

She had cleaned up a little, her fur looking a bit more groomed with most of the sticking out parts having been addressed, but her fur still retained that slightly oily look and her clothes were unchanged.

Standing there, her head kept down, she plucked at her green sleeves in embarrassment, her paws still hidden within them. She stood in complete deference to Lance, her body language fragile but compliant, as if she were clay for his to mould. It slightly unnerved Lance. He was here to return a lost item and she was looking as if he was about to march her down to police station.

"Sorry, I had to go through to find out it was yours." Lance began, incredibly uncomfortable with her demeanour, holding the wallet out for her.

Her had remaining hung, her paw finally raised up and emerged from its green cocoon. She gently grasped it and, in controlled movements, brought into both her paws, her eyes impassively looking it over.

"I think er, everything there. I checked all around to see if anything fell out but I think it's all there." As little as that is Lance noted.

Autumn remained silent, but nodded slightly, as if taking Lance's word for it. A few awkward seconds of silence passed with Lance uncertain how to leave.

Should I wait for her to say something? She doesn't look while she's about to say anything. Maybe I should just go. But won't that seem rude? Wait, why am I thinking all this over? I did the good deed. Well done Lance. Now just get out of here.

"Erm, look so er, I just wanted to bring this back to you and er, make sure you were, you know, alright and everything. You took quite a tumble back there and I thought you'd hurt yourself. I may not be, you know, everyone's favourite guy right now but I'm er, you know, I'm glad that you're er, well…" Lance rambled, waving his paws as if to finish his eloquent speech.

She was looking up at him now, her eyes a mixture of confusion and something Lance couldn't quite put his paw on. Resentment for his pity? Trepidation for this weird bumbling mammal? Curiosity for… the same reason? Lance wasn't sure but by the look of her, he had probably outstayed his welcome.

"So er, since I can see you're erm, fine and all that I'll just get going. Don't want to, you know, keep you longer than you need. So er, I'll be seeing you then." Lance mumbled, starting to back away his mind kicking himself for his awkwardness.

"You like music?"

The question had come out so quietly that had Lance turned his head ever so slightly further away he may never have heard it.

Her voice was wispy and fragile, as if it could be shattered forever if it dared go up a single octave more. It was weak and shaky, as if she was completely unpractised at the art of merely speaking.

Looking back, she saw that the racoon's arm was outstretched, pointing at the guitar case, previously obscured by his quills.

"Oh erm, yeah. I like music." Lance said. "D'you erm, d'you like music?"

The racoon nodded, her face still not looking up at him.

"Oh erm, what d'you like?" Lance asked, unsure whether he'd get an answer and as to the point of asking anyway.

The raccoon seemed to take a moment to think about it, before shrugging noncommittally.

"Come on" Lance began, growing a little more confident. "You must like something. R&B? Jazz? Blues? Soul? Punk? Pop? Rock?"

Again, the raccoon seemed to process the question, shifting her feet a little as she thought about it.

"I… I like… most things."

Lance nodded. Better than nothing at all I guess. Silence fell between them once again, the raccoon clearly looking a bit awkward about having spoken so much with Lance still looking for an out of this stilted conversation.

"Look erm, I'm glad you're alright and all and erm, hold on."

Lance rummaged in his pockets before pulling out the card container, quickly opening it up and held it out to the girl. She looked at it quizzically, before taking it in her free paw, reading over the text.

"I teach guitar. Just started actually so, you know, if you wanna place some of those 'most thing' then er, drop me a line sometime, 'kay?" Lance said, once again moving away down the porch steps.

"I don't have email." the racoon called out, her voice straining a little.

"Sorry what?" Lance replied, turning back, his escape thwarted once more.

"I don't have email." she repeats, a little quieter and more comfortable.

"Oh." That's all Lance could think to say. Who the hell doesn't have email?

"Like at all or?"

She shook her head.

"Not even on your phone?"

The raccoon let out a soft snort, shaking her head before fishing around in her tattered jeans pocket. Sliding it out, she revealed a dark blue brick phone with a tiny scratched screen and massive buttons. It looked as if it had been handed down, thrown about, dropped down the loo, and hit several times with a blunt object before it managed to get into her paws.

Jesus, I didn't think animals still had those Lance though. Well, there goes my no phone number idea. Shit, I'll have to fork out for new cards!

"Oh, right. Erm, well I guess I could give you my number."

Lance pulled out his phone and read out the number as the raccoon slowly put it into her phone, holding the phone's dull screen to Lance to make sure she had it right.

"Yeah, that's it. Just give me a ring if you want to have a go or whatever."

The raccoon nodded, a bit more certain in her movements.

"How much is it?" came her voice again, with a slightly serious tone.

"Oh erm…" Lance began, but then he looked at the raccoon. He looked at her face. Her clothes. Her house behind her. Truth be told, he was thinking about 30 dollars a session, that way he could rack up some good cash if he got a few students. But looking at her, how empty her wallet was, how run down her house was, Lance did something that a few months ago he would never conceive of doing.

"Er, the first session's free then it'll be like 10 dollars or something." Lance tilted his head down, a little embarrassed at giving what he felt was a handout to her. "Does… does that sound alright?"

Looking up briefly, Lance saw a sudden flicker of light appeared in her eyes. It was brief, but it was there. A moment that took her out of her continuously sad complexion. Lance grinned a little. Wait, why am I happy? I just knocked down the price stupidly! What the hell am I gonna –

"That sounds good."

Raising his head up again, Lance thought he spied a smile. It was faint, barely registering at all, but it was there. A tiny smile and her face brightening up a bit. She looked like a different mammal for a moment, albeit a fleeting one.

"Cool" Lance mumbled, attempting to shake himself of his stray thoughts and making his way to the porch steps once more. "Well, I'll see you later then."

"I wasn't trying anything."

Lance paused. The tone coming from the raccoon was harder this time, as if trying to defend herself. Even her body language become stiffer, m ore determined.

"What d'you mean?" Lance asked, slightly puzzled.

"I wasn't trying anything before."

What's she on about? Lance couldn't help thinking, the confusion spreading to his voice.

"Try what?"

The second denial seemed to flummox the raccoon. She looked at him now, her deep brown eyes staring at him as if he were some exotic, almost alien, curio.

Lance was befuddled too. What on earth is she going on about? Trying something? The hell could she try to do? There's nothing of her.

"I er, you know," she started, uncertainty at her own words becoming evident. "When I bumped into you. Back there. I wasn't, you know, trying anything… sketchy." she trailed off, seeming to need a minute after speaking so much.

"Erm, yeah sure" Lance agreed, still not understanding. "Whatever, but seriously, there's nothing to apologise for." Lance said with a shrug of his shoulders.

The raccoon smiled for a brief second, before diving her paw into her jeans pocket and prising some green notes out of it, proffering it to the porcupine.

"Erm, what's this?" Lance asked, the situation getting more confusing by the second.

Stepping forward, she shoved something into his paw. Opening it up, it revealed some crumpled notes. There wasn't a lot there, maybe eight dollars and a barely twenty cents change.

"For the wallet. Sorry it's not much." She mumbled, before walking away, leaving Lance a little shocked.

Without even thinking, Lance grabbed the raccoon's green sleeve halting her in her place, a look of fear coming into her eyes.

"I don't know who or what you think I am but I am not taking this." Lance stated flatly.

Thinking on it, it probably wasn't the smartest thing to do as the raccoon was staring at his paw, still gripping the faded green fivers of her jumper. Lance quickly realised what this was starting to look like and quickly released her.

"Sorry, it's just I can't take this."

"You have to." She responded matter of factly.

"For what? Returning your wallet? I'm not taking it." Lance scoffed.

Her eyes narrowed, a grim look coming into the pupils.

"I have to pay you back." She said in a measured tone, her eyes finally meeting his. They were cold, demanding, yet somehow also pleading with him to let her pay him back.

Looking back down at his paw, the notes still scrunched up Lance couldn't help but feel torn. He did need the money, even with Becky as a lifeline she wasn't going to keep giving him handouts whenever he needed it. That was the whole point of getting a job. But, this was her money. Probably all the money she had. She needed it more. And yet here she was, handing it all over to pay some self-created debt? He couldn't just give her the money back. It'd be insulting. She was trying to do right and for him to spurn her money was essentially saying, I don't need your money. Not from you and where you're from. Lance sighed.

I'm probably going to regret this…

"Alright, I'll take… a dollar" Lance began.

Her mouth jolted open in protest, but Lance managed to hump in before she could give voice to it.

"Wait a sec! I'm going to take a dollar. I probably need it to make up my bus fare. I don't need any more than that so you're actually really helping me here. But seriously, you don't need to reward me for bringing you your wallet. I'm just honestly glad you're alright after the tumble you took. You really smashed into the floor."

"That's not enough" Autumn sighed. "I need to pay the debt."

Lance repressed a groan. Seriously, what do I have to do to get this bloody raccoon to call it quits!

"Okay, how about this. You know those guitar lessons? You have to go to them now." Lance said, determined to finish the issue once and for all.

"You can do four sessions okay? That's 40 dollars. You'll have paid me back and then some, though I still have no idea what exactly you're paying me back for. So that's four sessions plus the freebie. Five sessions in all. Sound good?"

A pause. Lance looked into her eyes, trying to as serious with her as possible. Her eyes slightly twitching as she thought it over, she let out a sigh.

"That, that sounds… fair."

"Finally!" Lance breathily exhaled, before taking one dollar his paw and handing back the rest.

"So…we good now?"

The raccoon looked at the money before pocketing it and nodding.

"Great. Now, when d'you want me to come down here for our first lesson?"

The raccoon cocked her head in confusion, ear titing to the side as she did so.

Huh, that's kinda cute Lance thought, internally chucking at her bemused face.

"You know, to do the lessons?" Lance said, slightly patronisingly. "When are you free? I can get down here in about forty minutes from mine so –"

"You can't do it here!" The panic was apparent in her voice, taking Lance a bit by surprise.

"I er," she backpedalled, the cogs of her mind clearly showing on her face "I mean er, my dad, he works from home so er, it wouldn't be… I don't want to erm, er, disturb him."

Sure, works from home. I believe that. Lance thought, believing it about as much as he believed in the hairless ape conspiracy. Yet, with her reaction, Lance doubted he'd change her mind. Plus he didn't really fancy coming back here again if he could avoid it.

"Alright then. Wouldn't want to disturb the hardworking father now, would we?"

"No, no… we wouldn't." Autumn said sullenly, rubbing her arm slightly.

"Do you er, have somewhere we could do this? Your place or something?"

"My place?" Lance said, rubbing his chin.

What the hell would Becky say, bringing unknown animals to her, our, flat? Well, it would only be one animal and she seems harmless enough. Needs a wash but harmless. I think I can smooth this over. Besides, a pupil on day one? Yeah, I bet I can swing this. Say it's only for this one. Bet I can think of a reason. The others I'll go to their houses. Yeah, I bet I can swing this.

"Yeah, sure" Lance finally replied. "Just got to make sure it's okay with my girlfriend first but should be. I'll text you when I know. Oh er, send me a text so I've got your number."

"Okay" came the slightly warm reply, before she took out her phone and rapidly text a message for Lance.

A couple of seconds passed before the familiar text tone rang out on Lance's phone. Pulling it out of his pocket, he gave a cursory glance at the message not bothering to read the message.

"Yeah, just got it. I'll let you know as soon as I know, okay?" Lance said, pocketing the phone again and readjusting the bag once again, with it becoming quite uncomfortable on his quills.

"Mm-hmm." She nodded before noise came from inside the house.

"Er, that'll be er, my dad. I gotta go." The raccoon said, before quietly walking back into her house.

"Bye then." Lance replied, before turning away from the tumbledown house and quickly making his way through the rough estate, his mind no longer focused on his surroundings. Indeed, he didn't begin to recognise where he was until he had made it back to Apolovia and was sitting on the bus heading back home.

Well, at least it's a start. Lance's mind began. Cheap start but it's a start. Can't do that with everyone Lance. You're not a charity case. You need their money. That's all. You're not out to help every poor animal you see. You're here to make money, get gigs, get successful, be a rock star. You and no-one else. You don't need anybody else. You are all you need. Everyone else is just stopping you from being famous. Everyone else is belittling your talent. Talent that no-one else has. Stop being such a sap and get on with what you're meant to be doing.

By the end of the bus journey, Lance was feeling a bit annoyed with himself. Feeling his phone in his jeans pocket, he mulled over whether he should just cancel her sessions. Sure, it would be a student lost, but if she couldn't stump up the full fee then what was the point of her coming? He needed to make money and the time he'd be teaching her, he could be teaching someone else for treble the price, not to mention the free session where he'd make diddly squat!

With his mind made up, he grabbed his phone, ready to call it all off.

Clicking the circle button, the phone flashed to life, with a short message popping up in a little white box.

Thank you, Mr Morgan. For being nice. I look forward to the lessons. Autumn Larkin

Staring at the message, Lance couldn't hold back a smile.

Me? Nice? Does she not know who I am? Heartbreaker extraordinaire? Public Enemy Number 1? Wait, Mr Morgan? Doesn't she know me? Wait, maybe she doesn't. I didn't say my 's not on the cards. She says she doesn't have email, hell she may not have internet if she doesn't have email. She, she really may not know who I am. Maybe the only animal in Anopolis not to know. And she said I was nice…

Lance mulled over that. No-one had called him nice in a while, let alone say he had made someone's day. Not even Becky. Thinking back, Ash was probably the last one to say anything like that to him, but that was years ago when their relationship was still young and untainted by Ash's constant attempts to upstage him and ruin his shows.

Looking back at his phone, he re-read the message. Autumn Larkin, huh? That's a nice name he thought, a little smile creeping on his face. Lance quickly saved her in his contacts. His smiled remained on his face, his mind drifting back to the nice comment, leaving him surprisingly content for the rest of the journey.

The bus reaching his stop, Lance stepped off with the smile still plastered on his face. Finally getting back into the apartment, Lance dumped the guitar in the corner and adjusting his quills, vowing to carry the guitar in his paw from now on.

He had a quick look over the room and, as if realising it for the first time, saw how much of a mess it was.

God, have I been living like this? Lance thought. Lance checked his phone for the time. Quarter past three. Still got time Lance thought. In an inexplicably good mood for the first time in a while, Lance headed out the door.

A few hours later, Becky returned home, expecting to see Lance still glued to the sofa with crumbs all around him and maybe a half empty lukewarm pizza left out for her as had become the norm over the last few months. What she wasn't expecting was the sweet aroma of the food being cooked.

Instead of being implanted into the settee, Lance was in the kitchen cooking. With the cooker. With actual food. And spices. Spices! To say that Becky was agog was understatement. Her jaw had near enough dropped to the floor, nearly joining her handbag which fell to the fall, the contents scattering across the floor.

"Oh, hey Becky!" Lance said cheerily, before coming over and giving her a sweet peck on the check before moving back over to monitor the stir fry he was in the middle of cooking.

"You're… you're cooking?" Becky said, her gaze barely moving away from the weird apparition in front of her.

"Yep! Making Synth Chicken Stir Fry! Must admit, never really thought about getting synth meat. Just always seemed a bit wrong and veggies are just so good! But I was getting some shopping earlier and this butcher guy said I should give it a go. Totally fine for herbivores and not to listen to the scary stories. So I thought, why the hell why not? Don't knock it before you try it, or at least that's what the guy said."

Becky stood there, trying to take everything in. Lance was in a good mood. He was in the kitchen not for snacks or alcohol. He seemed sober, at least she couldn't smell the usual Glenfiddich or Johnnie Walker Red on him. He was smiling. Smiling! So Becky did the only thing she could.

"But you're…you're cooking?" Becky repeated.

"Yeah, kind of missed it actually. Should do it more often. Got started pretty much after I hoovered and everything."

"You vacuumed?!" Becky's mind was awhirl with all the possibilities of what had happened to Lance between leaving this morning and coming home. Body snatcher? Aliens? That stupid she made on a start last month coming true? All the while the oblivious Lance kept cooking, adding homemade sauce to the delicious smelling Chinese concoction.

"Hey, this nearly done so d'you wanna get out your work clothes? I'll plate up in a sec." Lance smiled, happily finishing off the meal.

Still in a state of shock, Becky went off to the bedroom and automatically changed out of her work clothes and got into something more comfortable. Sitting at the table, a glass of wine already poured for her, Becky looked over the meal that Lance plated up for her. It looked delicious. The smell was intoxicating. She stabbed one of the synth chicken pieces and quickly popping it in her mouth. It was gorgeous. Tasting the wine. A perfect match for the meal.

Sitting down, Lance started on his own meal before looking up at the still stunned Becky.

"So how was your day?" Lance asked in between mouthfuls.

Boyfriend asking about her day? Perfect. This is what she'd been yearning for for what felt like an age. Finally, everything was seeming right in their relationship.

And it all felt so, so wrong.

"Okay, what the hell is going on Lance?!" Becky roared, the damn finally bursting, unable to contain herself any longer.

Lance looked up, a bit in shock at the sudden rage.

"What d'you mean babe?"

"Babe? BABE! I'll give you babe minute!" Becky screamed, standing on the breakfast table's high stool.

"Whoa! Calm down, what have I done Becky?" Lance asked, confusion filling up in his eyes.

"Exactly! What have you done Lance? I leave this morning and you look like something that's been scraped off the bottom of truck on the freeway and I come back home and you're playing Mr Perfect Boyfriend! The hell happened Lance! You win some money? Got a record contract? Having an affair?"

"No, I have not!" Lance interrupted, feeling this was going too far into sensitive territory.

"Oh my God you are having an affair!" Becky wailed, jumping off the stool and backing away from him.

"What?!" Lance cried incredulously. "The hell d'you get that from?"

"You only denied that one so it must be what you're doing!" Becky yelled, starting to get a bit hysterical.

"Okay, back up here! I have not, nor will ever again, cheat on anyone! I've done that once and it wasn't pretty. Hell, we didn't even kiss!"

"You went to kiss her?!"

"I'm talking about you ya dingbat! D'you not remember the whole us getting kicked out my apartment when Ash turned up?" Lance shot back, getting a bit heated now at the unfounded insinuations.

"Then what then?! What's this all about?! 'Cos if you don't tell me the truth right now then so help me God -"

"I GOT A JOB BECKY! HAPPY? I GOT A FREAKING JOB!" Lance yelled, his voice rumbling out of him like an almighty thunderstorm.

Becky's face was a picture. It was if all the anger got gut punched out of her. Her trembling fury was replaced by a still incomprehension.

"You… you what?" Becky managed to say.

"I got a job okay? I… I took your advice and looked for work." Lance said, forcing calmness into his voice.

They remained silent for a while, letting the tension in the air hang for a moment, the heat of the argument leaving both Lance and Becky breathing heavily, as if they had been out for a marathon.

As if instinctual, both Lance and Becky made their way to the sofa, sitting at opposite ends, not quite ready to be close just yet after such explosions of anger.

"So" Becky began, trying to keep a conciliatory tone "what job is it then?"

"I'm er, gonna be a private music teacher. A tutor really." Lance said quietly, keeping his head down, not daring to look at Becky directly. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a new card he put there in preparation of his big reveal.

Becky looked it over. It was the same as the previous one but now with a phone number she did not recognise.

"I got a cheap pay as you go phone." Lance commented, seeing her confusion. "Just for business. Only does texts and calls. Everything else will go to my emails which I'll still have on my normal phone."

Lance pulled out his new, well new to him, work phone. It was an older model but looked in good nick. It wasn't a touch screen or anything but it looked like it could so the basics.

"I'm gonna start handing these cards out tomorrow. Put them anywhere that'll take them. Hopefully they'll be okay with a Mr Morgan teaching them than the infamous Lance."

Becky tapped the card against her paw, as if considering something. Lance glanced up to her face. She seemed to be contemplating what he was saying. The anger had gone now, she was just thinking. Going over what he was saying over in her mind.

At least she's hearing me out Lance thought hopefully.

"So how much are you charging for this then?" Becky stated, her voice coming over more in a business manner now.

That was the one thing about Becky he kind of admired. Though she looked ditzy and fashion obsessed, and okay sometimes she was, but she had a good business mind. She could see whether something was viable or not and it helped Lance get more lucrative gigs before Ashgate happened.

"I thought about charging 30 bucks for adults, 20 for kids and give a half price first session, you know, to get animals interested. Plus I'll be going to their houses so I'll need that much to make it worth going out on public transport."

"Hmm." Becky was processing the maths in her head. "You'll need to get a season pass. For both bus and rail. Otherwise you'll be barely breaking even. It's a bit of an investment but it'll be better in the long run."

"Yeah, I know, I'm going to go down there tomorrow and – wait, you think this is a good idea?!"

Becky shrugged. "I mean, it's gonna be a lot of work and it's not going to be profitable at first but I can see this working. Not every animal knows who you are and some don't give a damn. I can see you getting a few students and, in a few months or so, I can see you making some decent money." Becky summed up in a matter of fact manner. "I mean, nothing compared to me obviously, but still decent money." Becky teased.

Lance couldn't believe it. Becky thought it was good idea. Granted the big reveal hadn't gone the way he wanted, but she thought it was good idea. Lance quickly closed the gap between them and pulled a slightly surprised Becky in for an unexpected hug.

"Thank you, Becky. This means a lot actually. I really think I can make this work. And then who knows? I might be able to get back into the gigging game and finally make it big." Lance waffled.

"Okay, one step at a time rock star." Becky jokingly chided, returning the hug. "You've got to get this off the ground first and pay me back your share of the rent first."

"Yeah, yeah, I know. Don't worry, I'll get it all square between us soon. I promise!" Lance chimed in as they separated from the hug.

"Yeah, you better had!" Becky said, playfully punching his shoulder.

A small silence fell over them, the previous tension having dissipated and a mildly happier atmosphere returning to the flat.

"So, dinner smells nice" Becky said, nodding her head towards the table.

"Oh shit! It'll be getting cold!" Lance said, jumping up from the sofa and hurrying over to the table. Becky rolled her eyes and followed him at a much more relaxed pace.

Lance was pleased with himself. It had been a while since he'd cooked but it turned out alright. Becky even asked for second helpings. Riding his high, Becky was snuggled against Lance as they were watching The Devil Wears Prada. It was a film Becky loved and Lance outwardly loathed but, on the inside, had become secretly fond of the film, cheesiness and all.

With Becky leaned up against him, starting to drift off to sleep, Lance started to feel good. He may not love her, but he was still fond of her. She was sweet, kind, although with a bit of steel about her, and for all his faults, still wanted Lance to do well. Their relationship may not have started well, or been the most truthful for Lance, but treating it like an intimate platonic friendship seemed to work for them. They were comfortable. Content. Satisfied.

Then Lance remembered.

"Hey Becky?"

"Hmm?" Becky hummed, her eyelids slightly drooping.

"I forgot to tell you something."

"What is it babe?" Becky cooed sleepily, looking up at him from his shoulder.

"Well it's just erm, I got a student today."

"Oh, that's great honey" Becky yawned. "When's he start?"

Lance stiffened up a little, fortunately not noticed by the near dozing Becky.

He? Should I tell Becky Autumn's a girl? She wouldn't be jealous or something, would she? Then again, she did erupt like a volcano when I cooked tea, God knows what she'll do if my first student is a girl and wants to come to the apartment. I'll just keep it quiet for now. Once she starts paying, I'm sure Becky will see sense. Yeah, I see no problem with that.

"Erm, yeah that's the thing" Lance started, the half-truths forming in his head. "You see he's not exactly got somewhere to do the lessons with me."

"What, is he homeless?" Becky joked.

"No, nothing like that, it's just he shares his house with someone and he doesn't want to disturb them."

Well that's mostly true. Lance thought.

"So, what are you going to do then? Teach in the park or something?"

"Well" Lance hesitated "I was wondering, if it's okay with you that is, if we could erm, do the lessons… here."

Becky remained silent for a moment, the tension suddenly spiking within Lance.

Shit, did I fuck up? Is that a step too far? I didn't want to ruin this night for her. What's she gonna-

"Sounds fine to me."

"Sorry what?" Lance responded, the disbelief apparent in his voice.

"I said it's fine ya doofus" Becky replied gently, and awkwardly, swatting him with a free paw. "So long as you do it while I'm work or something then I'm okay with it. Just don't make a mess or anything. Don't want to clear up after two slobs rather than one."

Lance breathed a sigh of relief. "Okay, will do Becky."

"And no electric guitars. Don't want the neighbours to complain. Again."

"Sure thing, mom" Lance mocked in an exaggerated voice.

Becky laughed. "Don't sass your mother. Now off to bed with you. It's a school night, don't cha know?"

"But I don't wanna go to school." Lance moaned, crossing his arms like a petulant child, getting into the silliness.

"Ok, that's enough." Becky said finishing the silliness a bit abruptly.

"Oh, okay." Lance replied.

That was something that he did miss. A bit of silliness. He and Ash had that sometimes, times where they could just goof around and make each other laugh. Well, before she started trying to upstage him, then the sun stopped. Sure, a brief second or so, but it always got cut off before it could fully develop. It felt so frustrating.

And with the fun ended, they both went to bed, quietly going to sleep without much talking between them.

It was about four in the morning when Lance woke up, his mind unusually active for that time of night. He might be a nocturnal mammal by nature but evolution and societal expectations had left them as a diurnal and so Lance was definitely not a late night/early morning kind of guy.

Grabbing himself a glass of water, Lance sat on the couch drinking the cool contents, hoping that would lull him back to sleep.

Looking down at the coffee table in front of him, Lance saw that he had left his phone lying there before heading to bed. Picking it up, Lance turned it on.

Maybe I can skim read something. Reading's supposed to help you sleep, right?

After being initially blinded by his phone, Lance quickly turned down the brightness, before skim reading a few articles, not really taking in the content.

After reading another article bemoaning some hot political issue, something that Lance didn't pay much attention to since he never really understood why the animals here we're having arguments of basic stuff, he quickly flicked away the app for another restless night.

Just as he was about to hit the sleep button, Lance eyes drifted over to the text messages.

Wasn't I meant to text someone? Lance thought, the sleep starting to hit him now before realisation hit him like a lightning bolt.

Crap! Autumn!

Opening the app, Lance tapped on Autumn's name and hurriedly drafted a quick message. Reading it once over, Lance hit the send button.

Looking at the message in the green bubble, Lance hope he hadn't disturbed Autumn's sleep. It simply read:

Hey Autumn. Sorry for the late message but it's all sorted. The lessons I mean. Is sometime in the day okay? Message me back when you're free so we can get this sorted

The smiley face immediately bothered Lance.

Was that too much? I mean, I'm meant to be the teacher. Do teacher send smiley face messages to their students? Probably not. Well she's not a student yet but still, don't think I should have done it. Not exactly the most professional thing to do. But then again messaging someone at quarter to five isn't exactly screaming great teacher or anything.

His phone suddenly let out a ping that, in the quiet of the dim apartment, sounded more like a chime gigantic bell being struck right next to Lance's ear.

Lance, recovering from the shock of the piercing note, looked back down at his phone.

It was Autumn.

I'm free Wednesday about 3ish. Is that ok?

Bloody hell Lance thought. That was quick. I must have woken her up but still.

Lance quickly typed out a reply.

Sure. I'll see you next Wednesday then.

Almost instantaneously the phone ping again, Lance now muffling the phone and switching it to silent.

See you then

Lance smiled as he turned the phone off and pushed himself off the sofa. Everything was in place. Cards to distribute. A new, sort of, guitar. Business phone. Brand new start.

Lance quietly crept into the bedroom, Becky gently sleeping on her side, her chest softly rising with each breath. Lance chuckled. She sure does look cute when she sleeps, I'll give her that.

Putting his phone on charge, resting it on the bedside table, Lance looked over in the corner of the room. Piled high with his boxes rested the banged-up guitar he bought at Marv's and, resting next to it lay another, bursting with light in its centre, with a subdued darkness round its edges.

Lance went and knelt by it, gently stroking its well-kept body, gently touching the strings, so not to incur too much noise and awaken Becky.

It felt the same as it did back then. Back in those days. A sad smile lingered on his face before Lance pulled himself away.

Climbing back into bed, Lance finally felt the sweet embrace of peaceful unconsciousness push his eyelids down, the two guitars watching over his sleep, trying to claw into his dreams.

#breaking the surface #chapter 3 #sing #lance #ocs #becky #fanfic #my fanfic #fanfiction #fanfiction.net #ao3 #archive of our own #ash #autumn #marv #autumn larkin #marv parten #lance morgan

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tahlreth · 8 years ago

Text

What Has Been Done Part Two

Part One

A/N: Hey! So I don’t know if I linked the first part right? XD I hope I did? Someone tell me if I didn’t please? X’D So this took longer than I thought it would, but today I was watching LOTR after posting a chapter in a different fic on AO3, and my muse was like “HEY, WHAT IF WE DID THE THING”, and I was like “I’d love to do the thing!” so we did the thing, and here it is! <3 It’s pretty long, so if you’re on mobile you might not get to see it all - still not sure how that all works. XD Thanks for reading, and I hope it was worth the wait!

The first order of business, Bucky knew, was to show Tony that he was absolutely and without a doubt not on Wanda’s side. Most of the Avengers seemed pretty eager to defend the little witch – something he just couldn’t wrap his head around, if he were being honest. She wasn’t a kid, no matter what Steve said, and she’d been neck-deep in some seriously shady shit of her own volition. And yet he’d been eyed with deep suspicion when he joined the group while most of his housemates seemed happy to hand her the keys to the kingdom.

Since everyone who’d demonstrated themselves to be on her side were clueless as to the tension between her and Tony, Bucky’d come to an obvious conclusion. He’d never find out the ‘why’ of their dynamic until he could show Tony that not only was he not on Wanda’s side, but he was in fact firmly on Tony’s. First thing’s first though – he wasn’t going to trust Bucky even a little until he had some data that showed Bucky didn’t like or trust Wanda. Bucky was happy to provide all the data he could.

His chance came one night at a team dinner. Though they’d been deemed ‘mandatory’ by Stevie, Tony often found a way to wriggle out of them. But their gear was all in tip-top shape, the idiot genius was well-rested, and he was ahead of schedule when it came to his SI projects. That Trifecta of Doom (Tony’s words) meant that Stevie ruthlessly enforced the ‘you must show up and socialize like a normal human being or so help me God’ rule.

Bucky hated that rule.

Still, it meant that Tony joined them for dinner, so it was working in his favor for the moment. The whole team was present except Thor and including the current object of his ire. He knew it was only a matter of time before she gave him an opening.

He would wait.

He could be patient, for Tony’s sake.

~.~.~

“So Rhodes will be here next week?”

“Yeah. My platypus finally convinced his CO’s that he needs me to check over the armor. I wish he’d tell the Air Force to stuff it and just come around to see me more often. I love doing upgrades, but I’d like more time to just hang out and blow shit up. It has been months since I’ve had my hands on my baby though, so I am looking forward to it. If they outfitted War Machine-”

“Iron Patriot.” Steve corrected with an unholy amount of glee, not bothering to duck when Tony chucked a roll at him. The little shit just caught it in his mouth and started to eat it, clearly enjoying the chance to tweak Tony’s nose a bit.

“We do not speak that name in this house, you heathen,” Tony hissed, a playful glint in his eyes. Bucky loved him like this – open and playful, willing to play a role to make them all laugh. “Anyway, like I was saying. If they put any filthy, unreliable HammerTech on War Machine,” he continued, glaring at Steve as he emphasized the name. Stevie just continued to grin unrepentantly. “Then I’m gonna hack the Pentagon again in retaliation.”

“Tony. You can’t-”

“Again?”

“Yes! That is an awesome plan, and I for one am fully in favor!”

“Clint, don’t encourage him. Please.” They were all smiling and chuckling, having a good time and enjoying each others company for once. Even Vision’s lips were curved in a vague expression of humor as Tony announced his plan to play the ‘Numa Numa’ song over the Pentagon’s loudspeakers for at least half an hour or until they got him out of the system – whichever came first. So, of course, Wanda took the opportunity to ruin everything.

“So your ego is so big you cannot allow anyone else to have a hand in your work?” It was fucking unfair that she had such a lyrical, lilting voice and that she could sound so sweet while poking and digging at old wounds. “And your little… prank would put the whole of this country at risk as well, would it not Stark?”

She always spat his name like she was throwing down a gauntlet, and it raised Bucky’s hackles immediately. He’d had handlers address him like that, always trying to push his buttons so they could see where his lines were. It wasn’t done to find boundaries to respect, oh no – it was so they knew exactly where and how hard to prod to make him snap, and then they could laugh as they watched him punished for giving in. No one else but Tony seemed to notice the tone though. They just kept eating, smiling like this was business as usual.

It pissed him off that it really fucking was.

“HammerTech is notoriously unreliable,” Tony told Wanda carefully, most of his good humor already gone. Now he was wary and defensive, readying himself for the attacks he knew were yet to come, prepared to face them alone because the rest of their team was made up of morons. “If the military had someone even halfway competent fiddling with my designs, I wouldn’t mind quite so much. And I’d have Friday monitoring everything at the Pentagon – she’d make sure any actual emergencies trumped the prank.”

“Ah, so we should trust national security to one of your AI’s. It always goes so well.” Wanda’s smile was sharper than the knives Bucky carried hidden on his person at all times, and there was a disturbing glitter in her eyes. Everything in him was screaming that she was a threat, and that he needed to take her down… but if he tried without the backing of the team, he would look like the crazy one. They might decide he needed to be confined and watched again; he couldn’t protect Tony if that happened, so it was imperative he keep calm until the most opportune moment. Everyone else looked uncomfortable now too, which should have made him feel better.

Except the were all of them – all except Vision – side-eying Tony, not Wanda. The slightest, vaguest mention of Ultron, and they were all looking at the genius in suspicion, like he was harboring horrid plans for world domination. It was enough to make him growl softly and clench both hands around his silverware hard enough that he bent the metal. Only Stevie and Nat noticed, or at least they were the only ones who glanced his way. Vision was still staring at his plate and shifting uneasily, while Sam and Clint were watching Tony with narrowed eyes. Wanda, of course, was still staring down Tony. God he wanted to stab the lot of them.

Murder wasn’t necessarily always bad.

Tony was still and wearing the smile he usually broke out for the press when they were being especially vicious. He shouldn’t have to wear that smile in his own fucking home. “Ha. Well, Friday is… she’s a lot more limited than even… than even JARVIS was. More a VI than an AI. Could someone pass the potatoes please?”

Bucky’d been wound tighter than coiled steel for a good five minutes; at the slightest hint that it would please Tony, he’d happily kill Wanda and offer him her head on a silver fucking platter. At the moment, he’d deliver a non-fatal stab wound to the rest of the team with a smile on his lips and a song in his heart. So when Wanda finally, finally gave him an excuse, he maybe overreacted just a little.

Or maybe they’d all been under-reacting for too fucking long.

As soon as the scarlet mist wrapped around the dish that held the scalloped potatoes, Bucky reacted. He didn’t wait to process the cruel glee in the witch’s expression; he didn’t stop to look for the indulgent smile he knew he’d find on Steve’s lips or for the terror that would be in Tony’s eyes. No, with the speed and ease born from years of cruel training at Hydra’s hands, Bucky reached for one of his knives and threw; when he heard the ‘thunk’ of it hitting wood and sticking, he didn’t bother to fight the satisfied smile that briefly curved his lips.

Though he’d barely aimed, the tip of the knife had managed to pierce Wanda’s sleeve as well, drawing a shriek from the woman. Now the little witch’s hand was pinned to her chair, and she was glaring at him with murderous intent. Her surprise had made her lose control of her powers; Nat being on her game was the only thing that saved the potatoes. She caught them before they could hit the table, and it was only after setting them down that she joined the rest of the team (sans Wanda and Bucky) in jumping to her feet and watching Bucky carefully. None of them were side-eying Tony anymore, he noticed cheerfully, and they were even reaching for their weapons. That was a definite improvement, because outta the two of them, he was infinitely more dangerous. He schooled his expression, making it blank as he pinned a dead-eyed stare on Wanda.

“What the fuck is your problem?” she demanded, tugging at the knife. It was in deep enough that it took quite a bit of her strength to pull it free. He was almost sorry she didn’t use her magic to get herself loose; he’d have been happy to go for the other sleeve. Or even her hand, really – he wasn’t feeling too picky just then.

“Keep your magic to yourself, witch,” he ground out, purposefully using something close to his ‘Winter Soldier’ voice. Right now that had everyone even more worried, but in a minute or so it’d land them all firmly on his side in this little spat. If they thought her magic was a trigger… well. It really was, though not in the way they’d think, and it was something he could handle. He’d never have brought it up if it weren’t a way to protect Tony and show him that Bucky was not going to join Wanda’s band of defenders. “We’re not inna fight, and we aren’t training neither. We’ve all got fucking hands, so we can pass shit around like regular folk.”

“Bucky-”

“No, Stevie. Been lettin’ this go long enough. I been tryin’, honest, but – no. She’s Hydra-”

“I am NOT-”

“Oh, not anymore or so you say. But you were, and they’re the ones who gave you those powers! Every time I see ‘em… no. I get it in training, which I understand – gotta learn to work with it if I ever want to be cleared to go out in the field. But I shouldn’t have to think about Hydra every time we sit down to eat!” Stevie’s face had already melted into an expression of warm, anxious concern. Bucky might have felt guilty for milking this if the blond idiot hadn’t left his Tony to suffer alone for so long.

“Buck… why didn’t you say anything before now?”

“… ‘Cause I didn’t wanna hurt team morale.” Oh, Wanda knew he was bullshitting – he could tell by the fury in her eyes. “B’sides, she can mess with my head if she’s mad at me, right? ‘M tired of people fucking around with my brain.” It was true, even if he didn’t let himself think about that too often. He let out a little too much of that, and he hated the vulnerability he could hear in his voice… at least, he hated it until Tony took a step towards him and laid a hand on his shoulder in a show of solidarity.

When Sam tried to do the same thing, Bucky couldn’t help but bare his teeth at his sometimes-friend, sometimes-enemy. “Hey, hey. We aren’t gonna let anyone do that, man. You gotta trust us on that one. Wanda isn’t poking around in anyone’s head. Sometimes she can’t help the vibes she gets, but she’s not purposefully digging for anything. Right?” As Sam looked to Wanda for confirmation, Bucky sent her a mental dare.

He almost hoped she did call BS, because it would prove that she was in his head. And Steve would ask why he’d really done it, which meant they’d all have to talk about the actual issue. Somehow he thought she’d be as eager for that discussion as Tony was… meaning they’d both rather have their spleens operated on with a rusty saw. When she only glowered at him in petulant defeat, he had to fight back the urge to crow – he’d backed her into a corner, alright. Served the bitch right, for making Tony scared, and for forcing him to whip out his press smile in a place where he should feel completely safe.

“Right. I don’t do that anymore.” Wanda told them all stiffly, tossing his knife onto the table in front of Bucky. Tony jerked, like he’d expected the knife to hit him, which fuck that shit all the way back to Russia, and Bucky had had enough.

“Yeah, well I don’t trust you,” he sneered, shoving away from the table as he grabbed first his knife and then his plate. “You were Hydra because you wanted to be. I don’t like Hydra, and I don’t like you. And how’m I supposed ta trust that she’s behavin’ when she can’t even keep her powers under wraps long enough to eat?” he demanded of Sam and – more importantly – Steve, jutting out his jaw stubbornly. “I’ll learn to live with that shit when I hafta, but I don’t need her turnin’ my stomach inside out while I’m tryin’ ta eat. I don’t need to be thinkin’ about that fuckin’ chair-” The way he choked on his words was real, as was the fear that spiked inside of him.

Steve moved to offer him reassurance, but Tony got there first, wrapping his fingers around Bucky’s metal arm and squeezing tightly. Their eyes met, both of them searching, and after a moment Bucky was able to offer him a weak smile. “Thanks doll,” he murmured, shifting so he was between the genius and the witch. “I can’t… I don’t wanna be here right now. Wanna… wanna maybe grab your plate and eat in the ‘shop with me?”

The thing about Steve’s puppy-dog eyes was that he’d learned ‘em late – when he was a skinny bit of nothing, he hadn’t needed to do anything but exist and all the old ladies were desperate to stuff him with food. No, he’d learned to don the pitiful expression later, after his body changed on him and would have denied him free food for the rest of his life. Bucky’d been the one to teach him, and Steve’d never, ever quite reached his level of expertise.

So he wasn’t real surprised when Tony caved after less than a second of Bucky’s sad, soulful eyes begging him to give in; neither was Steve. The rest of them all looked a bit shocked when the genius reached to grab his plate. When Wanda gave a sound that seemed vaguely protesting, Bucky turned to her and delivered a vicious snarl, continuing to put his body between her and his Tony. The man in question seemed to realize it, and the look he shot Bucky before starting towards the elevator was one of both gratitude and consideration.

“I’ll start eatin’ with you lot again when the witch learns to keep her fucking magic under wraps at the dinner table.” He told them all, giving a dismissive sniff and then turning to stalk after Tony. Before the elevator doors closed, he could hear Wanda wailing about the unfairness of it all… but Stevie would have his back. Stevie and Sam would be all for aiding Bucky in his continued recovery, while Nat and Clint would be all in favor of making sure the Winter Soldier never came to dinner uninvited. Vision… Vision he didn’t have much of a read on, but he knew how the discussion would end.

Maybe now Tony could eat with the team more often. It would make the genius happy to spend time with them, and he wouldn’t have to worry that Wanda would use her magic against him. If Bucky kept making sure the bitch’d have to physically go through him to try anything else, that would mean even less stress at dinner, which would mean an even happier Tony! And surely, surely the genius would realize that it was all for him, that Bucky was doing it because he was special. Yup, this first part of the plan had gone off without a hitch.

It was really, really hard to keep a gloating smirk off his face.

~.~.~

“Knock knock.”

“Bucky-babe! You know you don’t have to knock. You have a lifetime free pass to enter this house of madness.” Distracted Tony was always fun to listen to, because he gave out the most ridiculous (sweetest) nicknames and didn’t really pay attention to what was coming out of his mouth. “Honestly I should just set you up a little corner of your own, you’re down here so often. Maybe I’ll get rid of DUM-E and his charging station – yes, you!” he answered the sad, inquiring little whistle. “You know what you did! You’re lucky you aren’t already on your way to McDonald’s to become their latest employee. You’d really shine there, but here you’re almost useless. Don’t droop and give me the sad claw, you pile of metal. Be better and you can stick around.”

A robot shouldn’t be able to sigh soulfully, but somehow DUM-E managed before zooming over to Bucky and tucking his bulky, unwieldy frame against his left side. “Hey, bud. Don’t worry – he loves you too much to give ya up. You know that.” DUM-E only made another sulky noise, trundling along after Bucky close enough to continuously almost trip him as he crossed the floor to where Tony was working. “An’ I don’t need my own space, ya loon. ‘M good just sittin’ on the couch and watchin’ you make the future.”

“Stop, you’re making me blush. God, I’m going to swoon, and the welder is still on. You’re gonna make me burn down the whole tower- DUM-E NO! It was a-”

It was too late – as soon as the word ‘welder’ had been mentioned, the pouting ‘bot cheered and zoomed off to grab his favorite toy. Any idiot would have known how that was going to turn out, and Bucky couldn’t wait for the show. Sure enough, when ‘burn’ left Tony’s mouth, the ‘bot pulled the pin and began to hose down Tony’s work area with abandon.

Moments later, the workbench was covered in white foam, as was Tony’s right side and a good portion of the floor. The welder was off at least when it clattered to the ground, and the genius looked torn between laughter and fury while the poor, hapless DUM-E was doing spins and twirls in celebration, holding the extinguisher aloft. U hurried over to join the party, the ‘bots ‘discussing’ DUM-E’s ‘daring rescue’ as Bucky lost the fight against laughter.

His guffaws only got louder when Tony whirled to face him, a playful scowl on his handsome face. “You think this is funny, Buck-a-boo? You come into my house on the day when I am about to catapult us into the future, and you show such disrespect? In my house, Buck-a-roo? You do this in my own house?”

“That’s not even close ta the fuckin’ quote Tony,” he challenged, grinning and backing away from the approaching and very messy genius – both plates of dinner he carried needed to be kept safe at all costs. “What’re ya doin’? You comin’ after me now? After I slaved over-a hot stove to bring you food?”

“… put the plates down, Bucking Bronco, and it’ll be fine.”

“‘Bucking Bronco’? Really?”

“Shut up and put the plates down.”

“Not ‘til you tell me why.”

“I gotta teach you some respect, Bucky Brewster. Was that one better?”

“You’re fucking nuts.” Still, Bucky did put down their dinner on a surface he deemed safe enough – there was a distinct lack of motor oil, and DUM-E and U were still having a ball with the now-empty fire extinguisher. “There, ya happy now doll?”

“Very. So you think it’s funny that my excitable, idiotic child ruined a full day’s worth of work, do you?”

“Little bit,” Bucky answered casually, loving the sparkle in Tony’s eyes as he continued to advance. He let the man almost get within reach, then danced back again, arching a brow. “You’re the one who talked about shit being on fire when he was around. It’s kinda your fault sweetheart.”

“Really. You think it’s my fault that a fortune in electronics is covered in shitty white foam?”

“Yup.” He returned, making sure to pop the ‘p’ extra loud.

“Then I bet you also think it’s my fault that I’m covered in foam,” he murmured thoughtfully, still coming after Bucky in a slow dance of chase and retreat. They both knew where this was going… and really, Bucky thought the end result would be well worth it. “And you must find it absolutely hilarious to boot.”

“Little bit, yeah.”

“Huh. Interesting.” This time when Tony lunged, Bucky only pretended to evade; he willingly let the genius catch him in his arms, delivering a warm, tight hug… and also a crap ton of the shitty white foam. Worth it, Bucky decided happily, wrapping his own arms around Tony in turn. In a fit of playfulness, he lifted the other man off the floor and twirled him in a circle reminiscent of the ‘bots happy dance. That immediately started the pair of them off again, which made him laugh over the exuberant beeps and whistles. After only a moment, Tony joined in even as he held on for dear life, allowing himself to be swung without complaint. Once he was on the ground though, he punched Bucky’s shoulder lightly and began to scowl.

“Ow! Hey, c’mon now. That was fun – admit it.”

“Whatever. Still funny now that you’re all foam-y?”

“Yup.”

“Loser.”

“Nerd.”

“Ugh.” Turning away, Tony stripped off his tank-top casually, an act Bucky absolutely would have fallen for if it wasn’t for the bit of pink on Tony’s cheeks when he turned back around. “Don’t want foam in my food,” he muttered by way of explanation, and this encounter was officially not funny anymore. Bucky felt his mouth go bone-dry as he allowed his eyes to roam over all of the muscled flesh Tony had on display. He found himself lingering on the scars left behind by the arc reactor, and he wanted more than anything to settle his metal hand over the marks and promise to protect Tony’s heart for the rest of his life.

Thankfully even he wasn’t so far gone that he thought that would be anything other than creepy to the extreme. They were just barely friends! Friends did not go around making sappy declarations like that!

To keep himself from doing it anyway, he shrugged and pulled off his shirt as well, tossing it to the couch. “Good idea. No wonder they gave ya the genius label.”

“Yeah. That’s what did it – my extensive knowledge of when to get naked. Not that I’m going to! Or that you should. Half nude is good. It’s better. It’s best! Because we’re eating dinner, not… uh. Yeah. So. Ducking out on another team dinner, or did you just miss me?”

“Why can’t it be both? I like hanging out with you, and I’m still not convinced that the witch isn’t gonna activate her creepy-ass magic just to mess with me. Steve promised, but… uh. I was wonderin’ if maybe you’d be there? Next time I eat with the whole team I mean,” he elaborated as he grabbed his plate and watched Tony do the same. “I feel like you’re the only other person in this place who doesn’t buy her sob-story one hundred percent. So I’d like it if you were… you know. Around. Just in case. You watch out for me, and I’ll take care-a you. Even trade.”

“… I don’t know. She… ah. She doesn’t like me very much. We have… history. Sucky history. Pain and death and terrible choices and her creepy-ass magic… none of it fun. I don’t… I don’t like to intrude.”

“But you live here too! You should be able ta eat with us if you want. I should feel comfortable eatin’ at the table, or watchin’ movies, or doin’ whatever without worryin’ that she’s gonna be… fuck. I don’t know. Pulling killer rabbits outta hats.”

“That’s not her party trick.”

“Then what is?” At first, Bucky thought he’d pushed too far. Tony paled and set the forkful of food he’d been about to eat back onto his plate with a fairly loud clatter. The man gulped convulsively, and the plate began to shake – no, that was Tony. He was shivering, and there was fear and guilt and self-loathing all jumbled up in his eyes, and Bucky just couldn’t take it. Swearing softly, he dropped his own dinner back on the bench it had been on and crossed to Tony in two quick steps; after removing the genius’ plate from his hands, it was his turn to initiate a hug. This one should have been better, what with all the skin-on-skin contact, and in some ways it was. Tony was warm, though not as warm as Bucky, and their bare chests pressed together would have been cause for a prayer of gratitude and a more thorough exploration if it had happened under different circumstances. As it was, Bucky only pulled Tony close, tucking his head under his chin. “Hey, hey. I’m sorry doll,” he soothed, running one hand up and down Tony’s spine. He hated the way the man trembled, and he felt a vengeful fury building in his heart again.

Most of it was for Wanda – she was the one making Tony so afraid. The little witch had done something, and he was gonna find a way to make her pay. But the rest of them, the whole bunch of Tony’s so-called friends? They’d let it go on. They’d ignored the signs, and Tony’d been carrying this weight all by himself, and it wasn’t fucking fair. He was going to pound them all into the ground, and if he didn’t actually kill Wanda he’d be very proud of his restraint.

“Shouldn’ta asked. Sorry. You don’t gotta say nothin’ Tony. But hey,” here he pulled back a little and took gentle hold of Tony’s chin, tipping it back so their eyes met once more. “I won’t ever let her hurt you, ya know. I’ll do whatever I gotta to make sure she can’t… do whatever the fuck she did again. I mean it. You name it, doll, and it’s fucking done.” When he let go, Tony was quick to hide away again, holding on to Bucky like he was Tony’s anchor.

Bucky liked the thought as much as he hated the way Tony needed one.

“You… you really wanna know?”

“Yeah. I… I wanna know everything about you Tones. But you don’t gotta tell me if you don’t want to. This is about you right now, not makin’ me feel better.” Bucky hesitated a moment, then shrugged and threw caution to the wind. In a single easy motion, he lifted Tony up off the ground – he only just managed to grip the back of the man’s thighs instead of his ass. The genius immediately wrapped his legs around Bucky’s waist, which was surprising and thrilling in equal measure – he’d expected Tony to protest, maybe even yell and threaten to beat him up if he didn’t let go. This… this was a lot better, and also just a little scary.

Did… did Tony really trust him that much?

That was a question for another time; at the moment he needed to focus on caring for the shaking man in his arms. Bucky walked them over to the couch, then sat down carefully. He thought Tony would scramble to get away from him, or even just slide to one side so he could be close but not in Bucky’s lap. But no – once again his expectations were shattered, because Tony seemed quite happy to stay right where he was. He didn’t even protest when DUM-E wheeled over and draped a worn blanket over the both of them.

“I haven’t… told anyone else. They wouldn’t… I didn’t think they’d believe me.” Tony whimpered into his bare shoulder, rousing every protective instinct Bucky possessed.

“Well I’m gonna believe you, so you don’t have to worry about that.”

“You won’t… you won’t be mad?”

“Why’d I be mad, doll? It’s the witch who hurt you, not the other way ‘round.”

“… I’m not trying to deny responsibility. I know it was my fault, and it was my idea. Even Bruce wasn’t sure, and I bullied him into… it was all my fault. It’s on me, and I know that. I’m not trying to… to blame her. It was originally my idea, and anyway the rest of the team shook it off fine. So I should have been okay. I was okay. It wasn’t even affecting me by the time I… I know it was my fault Bucky, I promise. I’m not trying to m-make you hate her, or make it seem like-”

“Hey, hey… easy sweetheart. Easy.” Bewildered and not quite sure what exactly Tony was talking about, Bucky just held him closer and stroked his hands over the expanse of the man’s back. It felt almost like Tony was a horse about to spook; if he didn’t do this right, Tony would run, and he’d never have this chance again. He had to do this right. “You take responsibility better’n anyone I know, and I know Steve Rogers. You never avoid shouldering your fair share of the blame – more than your share, most times. So… don’t worry ‘bout that, or me being mad. And I hate to break this to you doll, but I hated Wanda way before you’n me started hangin’ out.” That got a choked little sob of a laugh, and Bucky vowed to set the whole goddamned world aflame if it didn’t stop hurting the guy he loved.

“Right… right. You never did seem to… and you said… and you… right. Okay. It’s… it’s about Ultron.”

Somehow, as soon as those words were out of Tony’s mouth and they slotted with the rest of the word-vomit the genius had spewed, Bucky knew that there was a good chance he was going to commit murder before the night was over. If this was what he thought it was…

Well. It just might be time for a good old fashioned witch hunt.

#WinterIron #my fic #What Has Been Done #Tony Stark #Bucky Barnes #Tony Stark/Bucky Barnes #anonymous prompt

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