#oh wait yeah I made yellow a bit shorter and made the eyes round to kinda match with white?? idk why it’s just cute ig

[ghostleeeaf]

pikmin

pikmin

[sunflowerdarlingx]

Fred Weasley - “Fred doesn’t date”

Hi everyone, how are you all? 

Here is another Fred imagine, I planned on writing a smut but I enjoyed the direction this took, please let me know if you would like another part to this! 

I think if I write a second and third part it will lead to a bit of a steamy chapter. 

Female Reader

Warnings: None

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

Fred Weasley wasn’t the kind of guy to catch feelings. He had his fun with girls who were up for it, but after a few fucks he’d cut them off and move on to the next. The cycle had done him good the last two years, and he didn’t intent to break it during his last year. But boy, was he in for a shock.  

Fred was stood on the platform saying goodbye to his mum when something caught his eye, well, someone caught his eye.  She was beautiful, her hair was tied up into a cute messy bun, her glasses stood on the tip of her nose, her small hand moving to push them further up as she smiled at the woman she was with. Her smile was gorgeous, and Fred couldn’t help but smile whilst he looked at her.  

She definitely wasn’t in Rons year, or Ginny's, but she didn’t look younger than them. He moved away from his mum whilst she wrapped her arms around George, standing with Harry, Ron and Hermione he thought he’d ask them if they knew her.  

“Hey Hermione, who’s that girl over there, with the glasses”, Hermione turned her head in your direction, “Oh, that’s Y/N Y/L/N, she’s a year above us, Hufflepuff I believe, why?”.  

“Just wondering”  

“Oooo, Fred’s got a crush” Ron laughed loudly.  

“Fred’s got a crush, Who?” Molly said loudly as she looked around the platform.

Fred groaned before shoving Ron, “No one mum, we better get on the train before it’s too late. Love you mum, c’mon George” he made his way on to the train, checking behind him for Y/N but she was nowhere to be seen.  

The majority of the train ride to Hogwarts was spent catching up with Lee, Angie, Kaitie and Alicia. The time during the ride came where they had to get into their robes, George and Fred went first down towards the changing compartments on the train, they went a bit earlier than normal so not many people were waiting. They were stood outside discussing their first prank of the year when Fred noticed Y/N walking towards him.  

“Yeah mate, I got the map off Harry so we should be....” Fred stopped mid-sentence when he saw Y/N, mesmerised by the way she moved so gracefully down the train.  George looked behind him, following Freds’s eyeline and smirked when he saw her.  

“You’ve not got a chance mate” he laughed and snapped Fred out of his daydream.  

“oh yeah? Whys that?” he said, a bit more aggressive than he should have.  

“Well look at her and then look at you Freddie, that pretty much sums it up” George ruffled his hair.  

“Are you remembering that we are identical twins”  

“Oh, fuck, yeah, so we are” George laughed “point proven even more, because I definitely wouldn’t stand a chance”.  

Fred shook his hand and smacked his shoulder when you got closer. They both turned to look at Y/N as she got closer, “Hi guys” she smiled, raising her hand giving them a soft wave.  

“Hi, you alright?” George asked, returning her smile, “yeah I’m not too bad thanks, yourself?”.  

“I’m good thanks, I’m George Weasley” he held his hand out for her to shake, “I’m Y/n Y/L/N” she peered over George's shoulder towards Fred, “and you are?”  

Fred tried to speak, he really did but he was distracted by her. Her doe eyes staring up at him and her lips were slightly glossy, he wanted to feel those lips against his, her hand was held out to shake his and Fred couldn’t get over how soft they looked.  

“ech hem” George cleared his throat and shoved Fred.  

“What..shit sorry, I’m Fred” he placed his hand in hers, they were even softer than he imagined. The door to the changing compartment opened and Cedric Diggory walked out.  

He nodded at the two boys before spotting Y/N and wrapping his arms around her, “alright trouble, how was your summer?”.  

George slipped into the changing room and Fred stood awkwardly beside them, “it was good thanks Cedric, how was yours?”, “Eh yeah it was alright thanks babe, spent a couple weeks in Italy” he smiled down at her fixing his tie.  

Fred couldn’t help but listen in on their conversation, the way Cedric called her babe made him a bit uncomfortable. How had he never noticed her before today? Surely, they’ve seen each other around schools or at parties?

“I’m jealous, I’d love to go to Italy, I’ve seen pictures, it really looks beautiful” Fred loved listening to the way she spoke, her voice like silk.  

“You should definitely go if you get the opportunity, I’ll maybe take you one day if you want” he winked at her and Y/N laughed lightly “I'll hold you to that Diggory”.  

“You better, I better get back to the boys but find me during the feast yeah?” he said and walked off down the train when he got a nod from her.

Y/N turned her attention back to Fred, “so how’re you Fred?” she turned her body and tilted her head up to look up at him.  

Fred was shocked that she was starting up a conversation with him “I’m good thanks yeah” his voice came out a bit squeaky to start with, he cleared his throat, blushing, internally smacking himself “how about yourself?”.  

Y/N grinned up at him and his blushing state “I’m good thank you, excited to get back to school, I’ve kind of missed it”.  

“I know what you mean, trust me when you live in a house with a family as big as mine, the space alone at Hogwarts is enough to have you craving being back” he laughed.  

“I’ve heard there is a lot of you Weasleys, how many of yous are there?” she fiddled with clothes in her hand.  

“Well, there’s mum and dad, and then my older brothers Bill, Charlie and Percy, then myself and George and then Ron and Ginny” Freds face lit up slightly whilst he talked about his family, Y/N couldn’t help but smile up at him when she noticed.  

“I’ve met Ginny before, she’s lovely” Y/N said, “actually I think I’ve met your brother Charlie before, does he work in Romania?” she questioned, and Fred raised his eyebrows, curious as to how she knew Charlie.  

Just as Fred was about to answer George came out of the compartment, “all yours brother”, “eh yeah mate, I’ll meet you back at the compartment.”

George raised his eyebrow, the stare he got back from Fred was a clear ‘fuck off’, he smirked and said goodbye to Y/N before heading back down the train.  

Fred turned back to Y/N “yeah Charlie does work in Romania, how’d you know that?”.  

“My brother Thomas works there too, you’ve maybe met him, they’ve been good friends since school”. Fred did indeed know Thomas; he’d met him a few times actually.  

“No way? Yeah, I know Thomas, he’s a good lad” Fred said and noticed a group of first years coming towards the compartment. “You’d better go get changed, first years are coming down”. It was well known that groups of first years often stopped older students who were at the compartments and bombarded them with eager questions about Hogwarts.

Y/N turned behind her and groaned, “it’s okay, you go first, you were here before me”.  

“Trust me, you go first, more likely to ask you questions with you looking all cute and innocent than are with big old me” he laughed not realising that he had called her cute.  

Y/N blushed slightly before nodding and making her way into the compartment. She couldn’t help but smile to herself as she got changed, of course she knew who Fred and George were, they were the famous Hogwarts pranksters. She’d be lying if she said she didn’t have a crush on him, she’d fancied him since her third year and the fact he just called her cute had her blushing.  

She pulled her knee-high socks over her legs, she looked at herself in the mirror and she was quite excited for Fred to see her when she walked out, not that she thought he’d have any interest in her, she just thought she looked hot.  

She had on her usual white shirt with the top three buttons undone, her black skirt which was a bit shorter than last year, her yellow and black tie was wrapped loosely round her neck, her socks stopped just above her knee and she had simple black pumps on.  

As she opened the compartment door, Fred couldn’t help but look her up and down, not only did she look beautiful, but she also looked so fucking sexy. Her hair was a bit messier than it was on the platform but he kinda liked it even more and her glassed were resting on top of her head. She pulled them down onto her nose and looked up to Fred. He bit his lip to stop himself from smirking down at her. Y/N winked at him, mouthing a thank you before making her way back to her compartment.  

-

During the first two weeks Fred had been noticing Y/N all over school, he may or may not have been using the map to see where she was. He’d often see her out by the lake herself or in the library and would ‘just so happen’ to find himself in those places when she was there. Fred wasn’t a stalker, he wasn’t even close to it, he just really enjoyed her company and as time went on, he learned that she enjoyed his company to.  

They got a lot closer and soon they were even arranging to meet, Fred often keeping her company whilst she studied or them spending time out in the gardens having little picnics or watching the stars at night.  

Now I know what you’re thinking, they sound like dates, but they were not dates. Fred didn’t date.

Fred had noticed that he was starting to care about Y/N, quite a bit actually, but he didn’t act on it. He figured it was just because he hadn’t gotten laid in a while, that was mainly due to the fact that all his attention was on Y/N.  

In all honesty Fred was starting to fancy her, he loved spending time together, he loved their deep chats and flirty banter, he loved the way her nose scrunched up when she laughed and the little snorts she would make when she found one of his jokes particularly funny. He also found himself getting a bit jealous, watching her throughout meals laughing with the idiots in Hufflepuff or when she had to cancel her plans because one of the prefect boys needed a partner for their patrols.  

-

On this particular day, Fred was stood waiting for Y/N to meet him, they had planned to go for a swim down at the lake with George and Lee. He heard footsteps and looked up, only to see Y/N walking down the steps with Cedric.  

She was in a little sun dress which highlighted all the beautiful curves of her body. Her hair was in two braids and her regular glasses had been swapped for a pair of sunglasses on top of her head.

She jumped from the last step and wrapped her arms around Fred, he gripped her hips tightly “Hiya Freddie, ready for a swim?” her cheerful voice mumbled into his neck.  

He put her down on the floor and grinned down at her “of course I am.”, he looked over at Cedric “you alright mate?”.  

Cedric frowned slightly “yeah thanks, yourself? Didn’t realise you were coming swimming”.  

Fred couldn’t help but smirk at his reaction, “yeah I’m good, better now this ones finally ready for a swim”, he winked at Y/N before wrapping his arm around her shoulder, “better get to the lake before George and Lee get bored of waiting”.  

Freds smirk quickly left his face while he watched Y/N and Cedric in the water, she had her arms wrapped around him, trying to push him under the water but Cedric just laughed as he dunked them both under the water.  

“Stop being a moody git and ask her out” George splashed Fred, “sitting there with a face like a slapped arse isn’t doing anyone any good, and if I'm honest, Lee and I are getting fed up with that frown on your face. Plus, you can’t keep leading her on forever”

Fred wiped the water out of his eyes before splashing George back, “I don’t ask girls out” he stated bluntly “that’s how things get complicated and what do you mean leading her on?”  

“You know exactly what I mean” George raised his voice slightly before lowering it again “You’ve heard the rumours going round about how the ‘famous prankster’ Fred Weasley is actually settling down, all these little dates you have just lead her on”.

“We don’t go on dates, we hang out”  

“ha sure, nights under the stars and romantic walks into Hogsmeade aren't dates. You need to decide what you want with her, if you don’t want anything serious then you need to leave her alone to flirt with Cedric”, George swam away over to Lee and wrapped his arms around him to get a piggyback.  

Fred moved to sit on the grass beside the lake, did he want something more than a friendship with Y/N? It was clear they fancied each other, was he really leading her on?  

He made his way back up to the castle, leaving them at the lake, he needed some time to decide what he wanted.  

Y/N was splashing around the lake with the boys when she noticed Fred was missing, “Hey George, where's Fred gone?” he shrugged his shoulders and started splashing Lee again.  

Cedric pulled Y/N closer to him by her waist “I wouldn't worry Y/N, he’s a big boy” Y/N frowned at Cedric before giggling when he tickled her sides.  

“Come with me to look for him?” she asked and started walking back towards the grass, Cedric groaned but followed anyway.  

“Why don’t we go grab a snack from the kitchen and get changed and then you can find him at dinner? I wanted some time alone with you today..if im being honest”  

“Fineeeeee” she dragged out her words as she wrapped her towel around her.  

-

Fred was laid in his bed, thinking about everything that had happened over the last few weeks, George was right, it wasn’t fair to lead her on, but Fred knew for sure that he wanted her to be his – the thought of her being with someone else made him sick to his stomach.  

He thought it over and decided that the only difference would be the labels and he kind of hoped that if lads knew she was his then they’d stop flirting with her. They already went on dates and the thought of finally getting to kiss her and hold her just made the idea even more appealing.  

He stood up off his bed deciding to make his way back to the lake. When he reached the corridor by the kitchen, he turned the corner and he saw Y/N against the wall with Cedric in front of her. His elbow resting on the wall above her head as his other hand pushes some of her baby hairs out of her face. Her little giggle echoed through the hall and Freds heart broke at the sight, crumbling when Cedric placed a soft and delicate kiss to her cheek.  

Part Two

[bohemianrhvps]

Mon amour, puisque tu m'aimes. - G.W.

Summary: George and Fred barely fight but when it happens they might not talk to each other’s for days. After a big fight, George stormed out of the shop and went to muggle London for a walk to calm his nerves. He found himself in one of those old vintage cafes and as he was sitting outside he spot a little flower shop across the street, playing some vintage french songs then he saw her and his heart started trembling.

warnings: swearing, mentions of alcohol, fluff, modern!George and muggle!reader.

note: I love Edith Piaf and vintage songs with all my heart and lately I can’t stop to listen “Hymn à l’amour” by Edith Piaf. Physically the reader is based on me (hope that’s not a big deal). I had this idea because I think that George would definitely fall for a muggle, he finds them fascinating just like his father.

‘How dare he say something like that? How dare Fred tell me that my job is not enough and I need to focus more?’

George was furious, he and his brother Fred just had one of their biggest fight ever. He stormed of the shop that he and his brother owned leaving a furious Fred and a confused Ron behind him. He went straight to the Leaky Cauldron and entered muggle London crowded streets. It was early evening and almost everyone was going home after a long day at work.

He decided to calm down his nerves and take a walk around London’s little alleys. His mind was full of thoughts, he was thinking about the words he and his twin brother said to each other’s, angry words that it doesn’t matter that they were said impulsively they still hurt.

After a while he found himself in a little street, less crowded, one of those roads that seemed like those roads in small country villages. A little vintage cafes caught his eyes and he decided that he needed a coffee, even if he didn’t enjoyed his flavour. After ordering, paying and picked up his coffee, he went out to sit in one of those two-seater tables outside the cafes.

Vintage french musics draw his attention, making him stand up and look around trying to figure out where it came from. His eyes landed on this little flower shop on the street corner so he crossed the street and walk towards it. He was never a big fan of Herbology at Hogwarts or plants in general but he was fascinated by these plants, he also saw lemon trees and they were so yellow and so beautiful and their smell was magnificent and he wondered how could they be so beautiful, they were simple and common plants but they were the most beautiful he had ever seen.

Y/n was watering the tulips inside her little shop, humming that old french song that she put in her “oldies” playlist when she spotted this tall red haired man outside her shop, looking at her plants almost suspiciously and she wondered what he was thinking about.

“Did you know that talking to plants makes them grow better?” she calmly said leaning on the front door, still holding the watering can with both hands.

“Is that the secret to having such beautiful plants?” George said turning fully around.

When they met each other’s eyes they remained silent for a couple of minutes. She was mesmerised by his features, he was indeed handsome and his hair was a fiery shade of orange. On the other hand he was mesmerised by her looks, he found her particular, almost weird but she was absolutely dazzling. She had short brown hair, her haircut right under the ear, that perfectly framed her round face. She was wearing a white flannel shirt and a pair of beige flannel pants and the first buttons of her shirt were open. She was at least one foot lower than George, she wasn’t skinny, her waist was slightly narrower than her hips that widened, highlighting her fleshy thighs. And George, being the thighs man he is, had to refrain from staring too long. She was so simple yet so particular and captivating.

“So you like my plants, ay?” she said smiling and putting the watering can on the side.

“I’m not a big fan of flowers and plants but I have to admit that your plants look very tempting.”

‘You are very temping. No wait- George what the heck. Calm down your hormones, mate’ he mentally cursed himself for thinking such things about her.

“If my plants are tempting let me show you something then.” She laughed and went inside her shop, shouting a muffled “Come in” waiting for him to follow her. After having rummaged among the various plants she came back to George with a little succulent in her hands.

“This is a little Echeveria elegans, which is a succulent plant.” she smiled placing the plant on the counter.

George found himself entering the shop and looking around it, it was much smaller than his but it was lovely, full of colours and aromas. He looked at the plant she brought with her and raised his eyebrows, wondering why she took that plant.

“I want to give you this plant.” Her smile was so big that he sweared her skin was going to break. He panicked because he didn’t know how to pay that plant sure he had money with him but muggle money is different from Galleons. He opened his jacket to get his wallet but her hand stopped him.

“No, it’s a gift.” her hand was still on his forearm and he couldn’t help but smile at the contact.

“Forgive my rudeness for not introducing myself sooner but I’m (y/n).” her hand stretched out waiting for George to hold it.

“I’m George and it’s very nice meeting you.” he smiled softly at her, making her blush. She couldn’t help but think about how handsome and charming he was.

“You’re new around here, right? I’ve never seen your face before.” and what a beautiful face she may add.

“No actually I found myself in this street after a long walk and had a coffee in that lovely cafes I want to add that I think I’m going back because that coffe was amazing and I usually don’t drink or like coffe. Anyway I own a shop with my twin brother.” he was babbling but Oh Merlin she made him so nervous.

“Oh yeah? And where is this shop?” the way her brow frowned over in curiosity was adorable.

“Oh it’s across town actually, yeah” his initial enthusiasm had now disappeared.

George looked at his watch and realised that it was almost dinner time and tonight he was supposed to cook for him and Fred.

“I’m sorry but I really need to go now, I guess I’ll see you around then.” he said making his way out of the shop.

“I’ll wait for you to come back here again then.” she smiled at him. The sunset made the whole situation looking like one of those romantic muggle movies his parents made him watch.

He waved his hand at her and walked towards the Leaky Cauldron with the biggest smile on his face and this little plant on his huge hands, he felt like Neville back in Hogwarts.

*The next day*

“Good morning Dear (Y/n)”

“Good morning Margaret”

“Oh you’re wearing a dress and you’re in a good mood today. The usual, love?” (Y/n) simply laughed at the old and lovely woman that owned the cafe and nodded at her question.

“Can I ask you something?” she said sipping her hot cappuccino.

“Anything dear” Margaret smiled at her.

“Did a tall red-haired guy come in here yesterday?” she tried not to look very hopeful.

“How could I forget him? He had this fiery red hair, this purple suit and he was so tall. Is he your boyfriend?” same old nosey Margaret.

“What? No no” she blushed laughing nervously.

“Oh, okay then.” Margaret simply shrugged.

“If he comes again I offer everything he orders.” she smiled and hurried to open her flower shop.

**

“I don’t know why but she was capable of making me nervous. Me? George Fabian Weasley nervous in front of a girl? She’s beautiful though, very particular may I add. Anyway I’ll probably visit her again tod-“

“George who the fuck are you talking to?” Fred came out of his room hearing George talking to a plant?

“Oh Fred ehm nothing, I mean no one” he laughed nervously scratching his neck.

“Do you remember that we have lunch at the Burrow right? Ron and Hermione wants to tell us something.” Fred began to have breakfast as if nothing had happened.

“Alright but I have to go now” George rushed down the stairs, making his way to (Y/n)’s flower shop.

He stopped at the cafes and just as he was about to pay, Margaret stopped him.

“(Y/n) offers” she winked at him. His brows furred but he cracked a smile.

“What’s your name, dear?”

“George” he said before leaving the cafes and run towards her shop.

While he was sipping his coffe, he stayed outside waiting for her clients to leave but admiring her. She was radiant today, she was wearing a yellow long flower dress, with long sleeves balloon and she curled her hair a bit. ‘How cool, they seem shorter’ he thought.

“You know you didn’t have to, right?” he said raising his coffee as soon she was alone in the shop.

“I know, but I wanted to.” everything about her was simply adorable.

He looked around and he found these beautiful and aromatic lilies.

“Just her favourites.” he whispered to himself but (Y/n) heard that and she felt her heart clenched a bit and she didn’t know why.

“Can I have a few of these?” he turned her way.

She took the lilies and made a lovely bouquet, she didn’t want to be nosey but..

“Are these for your girlfriend?” she said tying the boquet with a pink ribbon.

“My girlfr- no no, these are for my mom.” he answered almost too quickly. “We have a family lunch, my brother and his wife want to tell us something. I’m wondering what it is.” again he was babbling and tell her things that she probably didn’t want to hear.

“Maybe she’s pregnant, I don’t know.” she answered giggling. He was going to pay but again she stopped him, shaking her head with a simple smile.

“Let me know if your mum liked them.” she waved her hand and again George found himself with the biggest smile of his face.

**

“Merlin’s beard George, they’re beautiful.” Molly was thrilled when she saw the lilies. “(Y/n)’s flawless flowers.. never saw it in Diagon Alley, is it a new shop?”

“Actually mom it’s a shop in muggle London, yeah.” he scratched the back of his neck, blushing a little.

“And tell me, what's she like? Big tits? Big ass?” Fred whispered pushing his shoulder a bit.

“Big tit- Fred what the hell?” he scolded at his twin brother.

“Boys behave we have an announcement!” Ron said clapping his hands drawing everybody’s attention on him and Hermione.

“I’m pregnant.” Hermione said with a big smile on her face.

“(Y/n), how did you know..” George whispered to himself while clapping his hands at the happy couple.

“Were you talking to me?” asked Fred smirking, acting like he didn’t heard George’s exact words.

**

It was Monday morning and it was also (Y/n)’s day off so she decided to walk around London and look for George’s shop, she wanted to surprise him. It took her almost the whole morning but she hadn’t seen his shop, he told her that outside his shop there were a huge statue that looked like him so it was impossible to miss. It was around noon and she decided to go visit her grandmother and her flower shop. The only thing was that her grandmother was a witch and her flower shop was in Diagon Alley so she made her way through the Leaky Cauldron and entered Diagon Alley. It has been a while since she was in the wizard world but she knew exactly how to act. Just around the corner she spotted an unfamiliar shop.

Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes.

The moment she saw the statue she instantly froze. She recognised it and the shop was exactly like George described it. She decided to enter and look around.

The inside of the shop was simply beautiful, so full of colours and people and she was simply enchanted. She spotted a familiar tall ginger man and she made her way to him.

“George?” she tapped his shoulder.

“Wrong one, love. I’m Fred.” he said turning around to greet her. She smiled at him as she instantly recognised him as George’s twin brother.

“And you are?” he raised his eyebrows.

“(Y/n), I’m (Y/n).” she reached out to him.

“Oooh” Fred said with a cheeky grin. “(Y/n)’s flawless flowers, right?” he squeezed her hand.

“Oì, stop flirting with our costumers and come to h-“ he froze. He was panicking when he saw her. And now what? What is he supposed to do? What is he supposed to say?

“(Y/n) hi, w-what are you doing here?” his palms were sweating so hard he hoped you wouldn’t notice.

“Your shop is literally magical.” she ignored his questions as she giggled looking around George’s shop. “My grandmother is a witch, she owns a flower shop here in Diagon Alley, so here I am.” she said raising her hands.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you�� he was really sorry because he really like her, he didn’t know if he liked her as a friend or more but he sure enjoyed her company.

“Oh it’s okay, I can imagine it’s not easy telling someone you’re a wizard” her laugh was lovely.

“So, can I have the honor of showing you around the store?” he asked her extending his arm which she gladly accepted.

“Y/n guess what... Hermione’s pregnant.” he said super excited.

“I told you!” she said jumping a little making George smile like a five years old.

George turned around to his brother who was looking at them smiling. Fred knew his brother and he knew that George fell for her, even before George himself knew that.

note: I’m thinking of making this a mini series, divide it into three maybe four parts (reader meeting the Weasleys and maybe add some smut lol). Let me know if you liked it and if you want me to continue it.

[citydreamgrls]

they were roommates -part three

a weasley twins x fem!reader fic

summary: she had nowhere to go, fleeing home to pursue something along the lines of freedom, so being welcomed into the entrepreneurial twins life was a whole world of new experiences waiting to happen.

an: sorry this one took a while to come out, i promise i’m working as quick as possible for you all, thank you for all the love it’s been amazing and so lovely. love u as always <333

words: 2,606 (a bit shorter soz)

“What if she comes over here?” Neville asked, watching around the shop to try and see where y/n was amongst the hoards of customers.

“She won’t, she’ll be busy.” George reassured him, trying to explain their game plan for the day.

Originally they’d wanted to get the girl’s furniture into the old storage room on sunday, but given the fact that both twins were hungover most of the day they decided it would be best to leave it until the next day. Not to mention that y/n would have been suspicious if they both disappeared downstairs without explanation.

Neville had agreed to help, knowing the new girl couldn’t run things on her own if Fred had helped him carry a bed frame into the back. Plus, he was their backup for distracting her.

“Okay but what shall I say if she does see me?” He pushed the redhead.

“Just say that you came to talk to me,”

“Okay, yeah…” That seemed to settle his mind for a few seconds as George grabbed his coat, heading to the door with his friend so they could slip away to the furniture shop down the alley. “But what if she sees me again? What should I tell her then?”

“Say you left something behind the counter.”

“And what if she sees me again after that?”

“Neville, we don’t have long, can we just get this over with?” George pleaded, sick of the constant questions.

“Sorry mate,”

“It’s fine, we want it all done by today so we can’t waste anymore time.” He nodded.

-

Y/n was showing a group of kids how the electric shock shake worked, much to their delight, when they returned with the first round of furnishings. As enthralled as she seemed, she was also facing their way, something which put Neville on edge yet again.

“Quick behind here,” George instructed, pulling the metal frame behind a nearby shelf and inching closer to the tills where Fred stood. “Oi, freddie!”

“What?” He groaned, not wanting to ask why they were crouched like freaks behind the wonderwitch display. “You guys look like perverts you know.”

“Oh great,” Neville groaned.

“Shut up, I need you to distract y/n… now!”

“No can do, I’ve got a whole line of people here I can’t just leave - thank you madam.” He handed the bag of goodies over to a little girl with a brief smile, before turning back to his covert twin. “Figure it out yourself,”

“Fine,” He grumbled, grabbing a boy that wandered past. “Hey, I’ll give you 20 galleons to distract that lady over there for twenty minutes.” Of course, the little boy nodded with wide eyes, taking the notes and running over to y/n, who he was pointing at. He pulled her away by her leather jacket, rambling on about products further away from the front of the shop.

“Perfect!” Neville regarded, standing up and helping George shuffle into the back room with small grunts of effort.

“Right we better be quick and get the rest, we only have twenty minutes now.” He laughed, racing out of the shop and down the alley again with a surprisingly excited whoop.

Y/n hadn’t thought it odd that this one particular boy was asking so many questions, or that he was dragging her all over the shop so she could show him how it all worked. Most of which she wasn’t too sure, but still muddled along.

“Do you want me to help you carry all this to the till?” She asked him, amazed that such a young boy could afford so many things in one go. He shook his head, checking his watch with a grin and rushing off in the direction of Fred, who sighed when he saw the small mountain placed before him.

The girl looked around, not having seen George wandering around like he usually was. When he wasn’t unpacking endless amounts of boxes, that was. But the man was missing.

“Oh hi Neville!” She called over, spotting her old boss as he tried to sneak out unnoticed. “What are you doing here?”

Fred watched from the till, wide eyed, hoping that the awkward man could lie his ass off just this once. George appeared from the old storage room, hoping to thank his friend for all the help now that they were done. That’s when he saw how caught off guard Neville looked.

“I- uh,” Please, please just say something normal, both twins begged, knowing how bad he could be under pressure. “I came to see George.” He finally blurted out, all of their attention on the wide-smiling girl before him.

“Oh that’s nice, how’s the pub doing?” She moved on, presumably taken in by his small lie. Neville managed to converse like someone who wasn’t hiding something now that the subject had changed.

“That was close,” Fred whispered. “Be more careful.” “Hey it’s not my fault she saw him!” George hissed back.

-

While y/n offered to make dinner that night, much to Fred’s delight as he hated working alone, George hid down in her new room, putting together everything and putting the finishing touches together for her.

“Thanks for helping me by the way,” Fred told her, reaching over her hands as she chopped up vegetables for him. “I tend to mess things up on my own.” He admitted.

“I’m sure that’s not true.” She teased, nudging his side and grinning.

Fred felt a pang in his chest, wondering whether or not she acted like this just for him. Or maybe he was just seeing what he wanted to. Still, being alone with her felt normal by now, and he enjoyed asking her things without his nosy brother around to lecture him on it later.

The music on the radio was faint as they chatted, but he couldn’t ignore the way the girl’s head bobbed along to the music. Like she was lost in the sound, but still present and attentive to everything he said. He had never met someone so happy with life, despite being given so little to start with.

Maybe that was the secret. The girl was so hard down on her luck, that anyone's kindness would have been more than enough to keep that smile shining. So, when she was offered another chance at freedom, she had nothing to be down about.

“Oh!” She stopped him mid-air, holding his wrist that held a bottle of tarragon over the sauce they’d been making. He looked up, surprised that she had actually reached out to him instead of just telling him to stop. Still, a little tingle ran up his arm, making his spine shiver out. “It’s supposed to be oregano in this recipe…. That’s tarragon- see?”

The girl took her hand away from him gently and turned the bottle to show him, the man nodded.

“Ohh- see I can’t even tell the difference.”

He was distracted, she was distracting him. But he was beginning to enjoy it, weirdly. He liked having her around, and he liked the effect she had on him.

“It wouldn’t have made a massive difference, but it’s better to be safe.” She chuckled, passing him the right bottle of herbs. “Sorry for grabbing you,” Her cheeks blushed as she spoke, reliving the second his eyes caught hers in confusion.

“That’s okay… I lik-”

“Y/N!!!” George called up the stairs, interrupting the pair as she turned to the sound of the other twin’s bounding steps nearing them.

Fred jumped slightly, only just processing what he was about to say. God he was going mental, how did he ever think that telling her he liked the way she pressed her tiny fingers to his skin would help anything.

Luckily he didn’t need to worry about it, he hadn’t actually said it. That’s what mattered.

“What is it?” The girl asked, laughing as she ran to greet his brother in the living room. He jokingly fell into her arms, pretending to be exhausted beyond help.

She laughed so loud that the men had no choice but to join in, entranced by the sound itself.

“I…. have a surprise for you!” George bolted upright, grabbing her shoulders with a smug grin and turning her towards the stairs.

“But what about dinner!” She asked.

“It can wait!” He drawled, putting his hands over her eyes and leading her gently down each step.

Y/n looked so happy with him. Her smile wider than he’d ever seen as his brother had joked around with her like they were best friends. He wanted that, but he didn’t know how to be that for her.

“Come on Fred!!” She called from a few steps outside the loft, obviously moving a lot slower now that she couldn’t see anything.

He followed, laughing under his breath at the excitement in her voice. At least she was still thinking of him. The girl screeched at every step down the stairs, worrying that she would fall despite George’s constant reassurance that he had her.

It was dark in the shop, but when the man covering her eyes stopped she could see a sudden few bits of light peeking through his fingers.

“Can I look now?” She asked, fidgeting on the spot.

“Okay… go on.”

The twinkling lights made her squint a little, contrasting from the pitch black of her makeshift blindfold. It took the girl a few seconds to realise where they were, her eyes scanning her surroundings like she’d been dropped into a field.

But then there was the till, and the counter… and the storage room. Except, it wasn’t the storage room anymore. It was covered in colour, and little tiny lights that strung across the ceiling. It was the stars again, like in the loft. There was a little window, high up on the wall, where the alley opened up and she could watch people wonder by all day.

In the corner lay a big bed, covered in piles of cushions and blankets that were also laid perfectly on a little armchair in the corner. Her guitar was propped up beside a small desk, with a yellow lamp shining down on a white, leather bound notebook.

“What is all this?” She asked, suddenly confused by the sight. Which made the twins chuckle slowly.

“This.. is your room darling.” George grinned, even wider when she spun around to stare at them both in disbelief.

“Y-you did this? For me?” Her finger pointed between them, which made Fred raise his hands up in defeat.

“Oh no… this was all George’s doing, just my idea.” He felt bad now, having taken on most of the shop’s responsibilities while his brother had made her surprise happen.

She flung herself to George, throwing her arms up around the tall man’s neck with a happy squeal. It looked so natural with them, the way he didn’t even seem shocked and just picked her off the ground for a second. It was Fred’s own fault for liking her, it was his fault for telling his brother, and now it was his fault that Georgie was a hero in her eyes.

“Go look around!” The girl nodded, amazed by all the different things that had been transfigured for her. Her hair fell over her eyes as she leant down, touching everything as if she needed to make sure none of this was a dream. She was perfect.

But she was so busy talking to herself with excitement that she didn’t hear the hushed conversation between the two brothers.

“Sorry freddie,”

“Huh- Why?” He snapped out of his pathetic daze, turning to his sympathetic reflection.

“Well I didn’t think she would react like that now did I?”

“It’s fine, I don’t care.”

“I wanna talk about the other night-” “Oh yeah… that, well I wanted to tell you that what I said then was nonsense.”

George frowned.

“What do you mean?” “I was drunk and just rambling on, I shouldn’t have said anything-”

“But you were so-” “Especially if it was something I didn’t mean.” Fred cut his brother off, which was evidently enough to shut him up for good. Instead he just let out a defeated sigh and went back to watching y/n scurry around like a puppy.

-

They drank again that night, to celebrate y/n getting a more permanent set up within the shop. Which of course had felt like the right idea at the time, but Fred wasn’t that into it from the first glass.

He knew that y/n was just a friendly person, and saw the brothers as equals, yet he couldn’t deny the way his heart panged when she tipsilly begged George to dance with her. The two of them did so for a little while, the other twin feigning being too tired to keep his eyes open, that way he didn’t have to watch them.

“I can’t go on!” His brother laughed, his footsteps pattering over to the sofa where he crashed beside the ‘sleeping’ fred. He opened his eyes. “Sorry mate did I wake you?” “You’re good. Think I’m gonna turn in for the night.” He told the two of them, y/n still twirling between the living room and the kitchen door.

“Noooo,” She whined, taking his arm and holding her whole body against it. He had to fight the urge to jump away, worried that she was going to tackle him. But she was just a bit wobbly. “Won’t you dance with me freddie?” She begged, her eyes staring up at him like two full moons.

“I’m sure George will in a moment,” His mouth said before he had a chance to stop it.

Idiot, she wanted you not your brother. This was your chance!

“He’s rubbish with the slow songs,” She giggled, focusing the man’s attention on the forgotten music that had, as she said, gotten much slower than their dance tracks. “Just one, then you can go to bed.”

“Alright,” He laughed lightly, seeing her cheer right up when he agreed. She wrapped her fingers between his, holding tightly, and let him spin her about for a few seconds until she melted against the redhead’s body.

The two of them swayed from side to side, completely immersed in the moment. The girl liked being held this way, though she would never admit that, but it was just something she hadn’t had the pleasure of experiencing. The fact that it was Fred too, someone who she trusted, made the whole thing a lot better.

Fred heard the final notes of the song end, then waited for her to move away so he could leave. But no such thing happened. He looked up, seeing George fast asleep on the sofa and held back a laugh.

Y/n didn’t wake when he lifted her gently, one arm propping up her head and the other beneath her knees, and quietly took her down to her new bedroom one muted step at a time. All the while, her face nuzzled into his chest perfectly.

It was only when he laid her down on the bed that Fred got a good look at her face, until then he’d avoided staring for too long in case she thought he was weird. But now he could see her better, study her, take every feature in without worry.

“Fuck,” he whispered, gulping at the way she slept so angelically. Yeah, he liked her and that he could have dealt with. But now, in that moment lit only by a flickering beside candle, freddie understood that it was only going to get harder to ignore.

[penguintransporter]

Winning The Game Called Love (Hector Bellerin) Part I

Here it is my ladies and gents! I hope you like it, and I apologise if it’s too long, but I got carried away. Please let me know if you like it because I am always up to work on my writing, so don’t hesitate to write me DM or send in an ask (I promise, I am the friendliest person out there). This one is dedicated to @bitchforaesthetics. Anyway, read, enjoy because part II is coming out very soon...

P.S. There is no covid-19 in this story :D

_____

If one asked anyone at the Arsenal Training Centre to describe Aida - the young brunette behind the reception desk, nine out of ten times one would hear the same answer:

Bundle of positive energy. 

It didn’t matter if one was a know or less-known footballer, coach, manager, medical staff or just a random fan touring the grounds - Aida, with her smile and positive energy, could chase away whatever dark cloud was looming above one's head. Yet, despite her contagious smile that was just loud enough and genuine curiosity, as any other human being, Aida wasn’t able to chase away the real dark clouds that seemed to clutch Hertfordshire sky in a tight embrace on that Monday morning. 

Seated behind the desk and waiting for her laptop to turn on, Aida observed the gloominess outside the building and all she saw was heavy blots of grey that seemed to carry all the weight accumulated during the month of December. 

Her last month at Arsenal FC, doing the job she enjoyed more than anything.

If it only had snowed; just a little.

 She would be lying if she said she liked freezing cold, and if anyone, she would be the absolute winner of “the worst balance on icy pavements” competition - if there was one - but Christmas had a different feel to it when everything was covered in fluffy and pillow white cover. And even if she wasn’t religious or celebrated Christmas as the majority of the people, she was a firm believer that snowy Christmas made that cup of hot cocoa, as she sat in her tiny studio under her favorite blanket, just a tiny bit better. 

Aida glanced at the small card that sat next to her laptop - red and golden swirls decorating the backside of it, and with a sigh she averted her gaze back at the laptop screen that had already turned on and was humming quietly - red Arsenal FC logo staring back at her. The large and Christmas decorated lobby was still quiet, but not for too long. In just a few minutes, most of the footballers and some other employees will start pouring into the building, either for training or for their 9/5 job, and with that the building will start buzzing with contagious energy. 

All except Sead. He was late on most of the days.

Aida looked at the clock in the corner of her screen before looking up expectantly at the door, and as if on cue, Alexandre Lacazette walked in through the door, talking to his fellow countryman Thomas who worked as a medical assistant. Both Aida and Thomas, along with some others were shortlisted for the layoff, but in the end it was Aida who pulled out the shorter straw. 

She shook her head, refusing to create unnecessary tension.

 Aida knew that she gained nothing from sulking and sadness. She still had to sit behind the reception desk for another few weeks, smiling and giving the best first impression to everyone who came in. So, with a deep breath, Aida lifted her chin high and looked at the two men in front of her. 

“Bonjour lads,” she grinned - the dark thoughts disappearing as soon as she spoke, leaning on the till in front of her. “Lovely weather outside, no?”

“Good morning indeed, sunshine,” Alexandre responded while still walking across the lobby, “I am actually wearing my bikini on underneath this outfit, what about you?” he added as he disappeared through the hallway that led to the changing rooms while Aida only laughed after him.  

“What a ridiculous man,” Thomas commented, stepping in front of Aida’s desk, smiling at her. “It is so cold outside. How did you travel?”

Aida sighed defeatedly. “Clio took four tries and a bottle of warm water to start this morning, despite the lack of snow and ice. I was really chuffed for this winter, but so far it has only been disappointing.” 

Her soon-to-be ex-colleague nodded, agreeing with her words before his eyes landed on the shiny invitation on Aida’s desk. “Oooh,” he mused, running a hand through his ginger curls. “Who’s date are you? Is it David? Please say it’s not him?”

“Nope!” Aida replied, giggling. There was nothing wrong with David Luiz - he was in fact a genuine sweetheart, but also notorious around the building for his charm and flirting action. Whether it was Aida at the reception desk when he needed an excuse for being late for the training or if it was Simone in the kitchen when he wanted another round of hash browns - he didn’t pick his victim nor his weapon. “Actually,” Aida started, “it was Finn from HR. He thought it would be a nice gesture since I do not get to stay here.”

“I don’t have to tell you again how sorry I am that you have to leave,” Thomas mumbled and Aida shrugged, hiding the disappointment. 

“Oh well,” she trailed off as few of the other players walked into the building and she made sure that she smiled at each one of them. She also made sure to high-five Calum Chambers as she did every morning for more than a year. “There is nothing that you can do really… Post?” she asked, trying to change the subject, and Thomas nodded, leaning over the till to grab the signing pad that rested on Aida’s desk while she shuffled some envelopes before pulling out a big, mustard yellow one. “There is something from Miami. I am assuming it is for Michael,” Aida spoke, exchanging the signing pad for the envelope. “Just tell me if there—  ,”

They were cut off by  the upstairs’ doors slamming shut with a force. Both her and Thomas looked up, watching Mikel Arteta walk downstairs with a risky speed - phone pressed to his ear as he spoke in a very quick and heavily accented English. Thomas quickly cast his eyes downwards, but Aida kept her eyes locked at the dark-haired man, waiting for the manager to notice her. When he finally did, she gave him a bright smile - ignoring the fact that he looked as if he was angry with the whole world - including Aida.

To Thomas’ surprise, Arteta returned Aida’s gesture with a friendly grin and a small wink before putting his agitated face expression back, walking away towards the training pitches.

“I really don’t know how you do it,” Aida’s colleague muttered, and she responded with a childish giggle. 

She was about to add something sarcastic, but the main entrance doors opened, letting the gust of cold wind trail in with force as Héctor Bellerín walked in with confidence that he mastered so well. He was dressed in clothes that resembled every outfit of Aida’s dad in the family photographs from the nineties, looking the only way Héctor Bellerín could -  both ridiculous and extremely cool at the same time.

“Want to watch me how I fail?” she whispered before clearing her throat a little, following their vice-captain with her green eyes. “Good morning, Héctor!” she called out, raising her voice so he could hear her perfectly. “Bollocks weather, innit?”

Nothing.

Not an eye-contact, a simple shrug, or any kind of motion or face expression that showed a tiniest bit of interest. 

Aida was aware that her friendliness sometimes caused people to recoil and shy away from her, and that her behavior could be overbearing at times, and she often wondered if people in the modern world, including Héctor, forgot how to be friendly and appreciate an honest smile. Aida was confused and a slightly bit hurt because it has been more than a year since she started working  for the club, and they only spoke two times - morning of her first day, and that time when they accidentally slammed into one another as they crossed their paths in the medicals. 

She wasn’t sure if she was doing something wrong because to Aida, he seemed like a nice and down to earth lad, and occasionally when she would observe him interact with his teammates and other staff members, she felt a pang of jealousy because she never got more than a cold stare across the room or occasional roll of his eyes.

“Maybe he’s just not a morning person,” Thomas commented, breaking Aida’s train of thoughts. He placed the envelope under his arm as he stuck his woolly hat inside the pocket of his puffer. “Anyway, I have to go. I have meeting in ten minutes. I’ll see you around.” 

“Yeah, good luck with your day,” Aida responded, watching Thomas walk towards his office on the ground floor. 

She sat back in her comfy chair with an itch of confusion mixed with some foreign feeling of sadness that started to tickle her. She couldn’t pinpoint what she was doing wrong when it came to Héctor Bellerín. They barely interacted, and yet he wasn’t giving her a chance. It didn’t help either that out of all people that Aida interacted with on a daily basis, he was the only one who made her heart both flutter and break at the same time. 

Her eyes glanced at the small calendar taped on the inside of her desk before resting on the party invitation again - her heart soaring with that familiar feeling.

**

Aida nodded, forcing a smile at some of the guests who passed her by. She wasn’t sure who they are or what their names were, but judging by their expensive clothes and blinding jewelry and watches, she figured out they must be very important people with lots of money.

The evening of the charity party has arrived quicker than she expected; quicker than she wanted, and even if the party was for a good cause, and she was meant to have a good time, she couldn’t shake off the tension that slowly accumulated over the past few weeks - her last weeks as the club’s employee. She didn’t want to leave, but despite talking with the HR department once again, there was nothing that she could do. Official answer was that the previous season was really bad for the club both, in terms of injury and finances, and that they had to cut the cost when it came to everything, including staffing. 

“Ada!” a boy’s scream rang out over the classical music they played, making Aida look up from where she was standing, and observing her pointy loafers and tiny specks of water residue from the drizzle of rain she caught on the way from the parking lot to the party.

Aida’s eyes connected with the small boy, dressed in a mini version of the official Arsenal FC suit as he ran towards her - his curly and unruly hair giving him a few extra inches in height. Despite feeling anxious and a bit sad, Aida smiled greatly at him, crouching down to his level before catching him in a tight embrace. Over his shoulder, she noticed his mother Alysha giving her an apologetic smile, but with a small nod, Aida reassured her that it was okay. She spent a lot of time with the boy on more than one occasion - in fact,  whenever Pierre-Emerick brought him to the centre, Pierre Jr. spent half of his time, sitting behind Aida’s desk as he talked in delight about his favorite cartoons and toys. 

“My God, look at you! You are so handsome tonight,” Aida mused and the boy giggled, embracing her once again, silently asking her to lift him up, and Aida obliged. Letting out a puff of air, she straightened up with the boy in her arms - it always surprised her to learn that he was heavier than he looked. With a smirk, she pulled at this red tie jokingly. “Has your daddy helped you with your tie?” she asked, tickling his stomach.

Pierre Jr. let out a loud cackle, squirming in her arms. “No, it was mamie. She also tied daddy’s.” Aida smiled at the boy’s mix of using French and English words, but as soon as the boy started telling her something about minions, Aida, as much as she hated to admit, stopped listening. 

The fact that she was going to be without a job occupied her brain and wasn’t something she was able to push away easily. Where did it go wrong? Obviously, like everyone else, she had her fair share of personal problems over the year, but she managed to keep them away from work - being nothing but professional and friendly the entire time. Aida always tried to give her best, treating everyone with nothing but respect, and even ran a couple of successful campaigns with the fans touring the grounds, but it was all in vain. 

Aida loved the club and being part of it. She loved the mornings when she would be one of the first to arrive, she loved that cup of coffee with Simone in the empty canteen, listening to all the anecdotes that happened since the older lady started working in the kitchen, fifteen years ago. Aida enjoyed the silly banter with footballers and the staff - heck, she even liked when Granit mispronounced her name and she had to correct him every day. She experienced so many nice moments during the past fourteen months and it felt so strange knowing that soon enough those moments will just be a nice memory.

“—so I told Curtys to stop hitting me with the pillow, but he didn’t. So I ate his hobnobs.”

Aida blinked quickly, reverting back to the reality from her thoughts and looked down at the little boy who was proudly explaining his hobnob revenge on his older brother. 

“Great job,” she answered, ruffling the boy’s hair before looking away from his glinting eyes and cheesy grin. Various groups of people mingled around her, and Aida moved her gaze across the room. Manager Arteta was talking to the club president while Claudia, the girl that was going to take her job along with being Arteta’s assistant was chatting excitedly with Naomi from PR. Everyone seemed to be in a better mood than she was, and Aida hated it. 

“Papa!” Pierre Jr. cried out happily and Aida followed his gaze. She spotted Pierre-Emerick, surrounded with some of the teammates and their significant others. 

“Do you want to go there?” Aida asked softly. Pierre Jr. nodded rapidly, and Aida craddled him before making her way through the well-dressed crowd.

**

Héctor Bellerín wasn’t exactly a man of few words, and everyone who knew him privately, knew that fact. The young Spaniard with an extraordinary London cockney accent loved to talk, appreciated a silly joke and banter, but also enjoyed discussing serious subjects and matters at any given opportunity. He was no stranger to a good book or a documentary, but also loved playing CoD with his teammates and just chill around his house. 

He considered himself polite, trying to treat everyone with respect, and most of the time he kept his cool - except that one time with Richarlison, but the lad deserved it. Yet, despite it all, the behavior of the girl behind the reception desk, for some reason, annoyed the shit out of him.

Héctor found her behavior tiring and utterly insincere. Ever since she started working, she would greet him with that smile that couldn’t have been a real one, asking him about the weather - day in and day out. It tired him to the point that he just decided to ignore her. 

On the other hand, he didn’t think that there was something wrong with her - moreover, he did agree with some of his teammates the first week she started working that she was actually pretty, but after another few weeks, her “eager beaver” behavior became a huge turn off. To Héctor, she seemed to be a type of girl that had no rest nor knew how and when to keep it down, and in his head, he used to paint this picture of her where she is making cupcakes every day, talking to fluffy animals and farting rainbows.

So, when she approached their group at the party, wearing a teal-coloured dress that wasn’t really a proper fit for her height or body type, carrying Aubameyang’s son in her arms, he waited for that bubble of overbearing happiness to burst in front of them. 

But it never did.

Instead, she greeted everyone with a short “hello” before reaching the little boy back to his father. “I apologise for interrupting your fun, but the best dressed man in this room wanted to go back to his daddy.”

“Excuse me—” Calum started, clearing his throat loudly as he smoothed down his tie. “What about us? We look decent as well, no?” 

His hand went towards Héctor’s shoulder, brushing the invisible dust from Héctor’s suit. 

Héctor swatted his hand away. 

“You look good too,” she replied, followed by a brief silence as Héctor took a sip of water, stopping himself from rolling his eyes. 

Wasn’t she a walking chatterbox? 

Has she already asked about Calum’s mother's wellbeing?

“Only good?” Alexandre pressed, but she sighed in defeat. 

“Well, I hope you enjoy your evening…” she trailed off, breaking the banter that his teammates started. “I have to go back to—” she bit her lip, looking behind her shoulder, “—I have some stuff to do.”

Only a few seconds later, Héctor watched her walk away through the crowd of men dressed in black suits and red ties. 

Part II

[shy-marker-pliers]

finally doing The Writing again, boys

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tattoo/florist AU made by my pal @lamiasluck check her blog out if u haven't already :3

Warnings: dangerous amounts of wholesome

The day began like any other, with Host snorting and jolting awake, startled by his alarm. he stretched with a hum before tossing his covers off of himself and feeling around his nightstand for his glasses. once he had them on and could actually see, he trudged out of bed and over to his dresser to grab his clothes for the day. after a quick shower and hair brushing, host donned his floral collared shirt and cardigan. and then he began the walk to work.

the walk in question was just a quick trip down the stairs. his apartment was right above his plant shop, after all. before opening, he made sure all of the potted plants were adequately watered and misted, trimmed the tiny bonsai trees by the door, and snipped off any dead leaves. it was feeding day for the venus flytraps too, so he gave them their dried mealworms. then he walked over to the door, switched on the light-up 'open' sign, and waited.

host's little shop definitely wasn't the most popular in the city, but it made more than enough to keep him and his plants comfortable. what more could a man ask for, honestly? the day started out normally, with a few customers stopping by for bouquets to bring to early morning coffee shop dates. occasionally, a parent would come in with their child to look around for a while and maybe buy some seeds. third shift workers on their way home stopped buy for something here and there.

it was at noon, however, that the day began to get interesting. host became aware of the two large vans across the street when he heard the telltale 'thunk' of a ramp and the dragging of several heavy objects. with no one in the store, host figured he could watch for a bit.

he couldn't quite tell what the new business was yet, as most of the objects were on boxes. occasionally a couple of movers would carry an upholstered chair, stool, or a small table into the building. two men, not in moving company uniforms, darted around like hummingbirds making sure everything was going alright. host was too far away to make out too much, what with his eyesight and all, but he did see someone rolling in what looked to be an adjustable reclining chair. he tilted his head, ever more intrigued.

he sighed and turned back to the shop, deciding that he should get back to the front desk. he'd spy on the neighbors more later.

after helping a frazzled teenager try and find flowers for their mother's birthday and assisting a sweet and polite older lady in selecting some nice lilac bushes for her garden, it was almost closing time. so, host locked the register and began the rounds to check his inventory. florist shops are just cesspools of theft, after all. once he had everything accounted for, he went to turn off his sign.

as he emerged from the isles to do just that, the little bell over his door rang. glancing up, he saw two figures enter his shop. from what he could tell, they were the same men from across the street that he'd been watching so intently earlier that day.

the first, standing in front of the other wore a pastel yellow sweater and ripped jeans. he had what appeared to be a tattoo of a pixelized heart on his wrist. the wore a happy and curious expression on his face.

the second looked much more timid. he was shorter in stature and had a yellow scarf tied around his neck, along with a simple black hoodie with the sleeves rolled up. like host, he wore big round glasses. his hair was a mess, and host couldn't help but notice the tiny freckles on his cheeks and nose.

uh. what was he doing again..? right, right. they're customers, gotta greet the customers.

"Er- Hello. welcome to the hidden garden plant shop. is there anything in particular you're looking for today?"

yellow spoke up. "Hi! um, not really, no. we really just came over to say hi. we saw your shop from across the street, so we thought we'd pop in. it's good to meet neighbors. oh goodness, where are my manners- My name's oliver, and this-“ he tilted his head backwards in the direction of the other man, “-is my boyfriend, eric.”

not a peep from eric. just a small wave as he kept his eyes glued to the floor.

“we just moved here to start our own tattoo and piercing place. we were with a bigger brand before, but we wanted to make our own hours, be able to decorate and do business how we want, that kind of stuff.”

this...was not what the host imagined the owners of a tattoo parlor to look like. not that he was complaining. better these two than some big scary guys who would drive away his customers.

“well, i’m the host. it’s nice to meet you both. my story isn’t quite as interesting as yours, i’m afraid. i started this business about five years ago because of my love for plants, and that’s pretty much all there is to it.” he shrugged.

Eric tugged at oliver’s sleeve and gestured to the piece of paper advertising the store’s hours. he had apparently noticed that it was about five minutes past closing time.

“oh! sorry, i didn’t mean to keep you for so long. but we’re closed on sundays, so maybe we’ll see you then?” oliver said with an adorably crooked smile.

“Uh..y-yeah, alright. but first...” host spun on his heel and quickly grabbed two small succulent plants off of a shelf, holding them out. “here. consider it a housewarming present. they don’t need to be waters much and look great on little tables or desks.

oliver beamed as he took the two small pots and handed one to eric, who now had a tiny smile as well as he looked at the plant like he had just been handed a puppy.

“Wow- um, thanks..!” he said with a quick glance up.

a couple of polite goodbyes and the two were headed out. but just before the door closed, host heard eric speak.

“I’m gonna name mine charlie. how ‘bout you, ollie?”

host had decided. he liked these two.

(ok thx for reading i literally cranked this out in an hour so if it’s bad no it isn’t.)

[page-doctor-bekker]

Casa de las Flores (transfemme!sarah)

(A/N) so... there is no nsfw in here. nothing that wouldn't be allowed in a pg-13 film, which is typically my policy: if i can see it in a pg-13 film, i can write it and put it on my tumblr :) anyways, enjoy. this takes place right after this.

-

-

Casa de las Flores looked small on the outside, a cute storefront with a few burnt out letters and a neon “OPEN” sign on the door, but the quaint look was merely a facade. On the inside, the dining room was large and lively, with a full-service bar and bright decorations. They were seated almost right away, sandwiched between an elderly couple and a family with a toddler and a baby.

“I’m Rosie, I’m going to be taking care of you two today,” The woman smiled, and set the menus down, “Can I get you started with some drinks?”

Ava glanced over the drink menu, skipping right down to the margaritas section.

“Yeah, can I get a strawberry margarita, frozen?” Ava requested, and Rosie nodded, scribbling down on her pad.

“And for you?”

“Uh…”

Crap, is she paying? Or am I? I should get something cheap, just play it safe… Wait, she said she was going to buy me dinner. She’s definitely paying. God, I don’t want to cost her too much…

“A uh… Err… Sparkling watermelon margarita on the rocks, hold the salt,” She blurted out, and Ava smiled at her, which was totally not helping the nerves.

“I’ll get those right out,” Rosie flipped her pad closed, and left the table.

“Really? No salt?” Ava queried, giving a slight chuckle.

“I always wipe it off when I get the salt,” Sarah admitted, “It just… I don’t know. It’s supposed to enhance the lime or something, but I’m just not into it. The bitterness just ruins the drink for me.”

“Huh,” Ava flipped the page on the menu, “I never knew that about you.”

“I mean, it’s not like I advertise my margarita preferences everywhere I go.”

Ava laughed, “Really? That’s my favorite activity!” She taunted, looking up at the other woman.

“Maybe I should give it a try,” Sarah remarked.

“What are you going to get?” Ava suddenly changed the subject, still flipping through the pages of the laminated menu, “I was looking at that baja grilled fish tacos but…” She winked, “I’m not sure if fish is the right choice on a first date.”

What the fuck. WHAT the fuck. What the FUCK.

Sarah laughed, although the comment took her off guard, “I was thinking of the enchiladas de espinaca, but I haven’t entirely ruled out the al pastor either.”

“Spinach? You’re bolder than I am,” Ava chuckled.

“I’ll only get it if you promise to let me know if I have some on my teeth.”

“Deal.”

A few quiet minutes later, Rosie was back, “How are we doing, ladies? Need another minute?” She asked, as she set the drinks down, “Frozen strawberry margarita, Watermelon margarita on the rocks, no salt.”

“I think we’re all set,” Ava raised an eyebrow at Sarah, who nodded.

Enchiladas de espinaca is cheaper.

“Whenever you’re ready.”

“Ladies first,” Ava winked.

“Uh…” Sarah gave a nervous laugh, “I will get the enchiladas de espinaca.”

“Great choice,” Rosie scribbled her order down, “And for you?”

“I will get the steak fajitas with flour tortillas, please,” She closed her menu, “Oh, and can we get a round of Mexican candy shots and a round of tequila shots?”

“Of course, I’ll have that right out.”

“Shots?” Sarah inquired.

“Shots.”

Is she trying to get me drunk? Ava did call an uber to get here, maybe she just wanted a drinking friend…

At the table next to them, the baby started crying. Sarah watched as the mother cooed and shushed, and eventually apologized to her party and left the restaurant with the baby. Ava sipped her drink, before speaking.

“Would you ever have kids?”

Sarah’s heart just about stopped.

She stammered, “I- uh… I don’t know, maybe. I always wanted to be a mom when I was younger,” She smiled, “I even tried to breastfeed my babydolls.”

Ava gave a hearty laugh, the kind of laugh that makes you feel like the lights have just been turned on, and you could finally see in a dark room.

“Didn’t every little girl?” She laughed some more, and Sarah joined in.

Yeah, but little boys didn’t.

“I don’t know,” Ava continued, “Giving birth sounds so painful,” She mused, “I had a pregnancy scare in high school, a false positive from a cheap piece of shit test, and all I could think about was how much it was going to hurt.”

“Oh my God,” Sarah chuckled, “Not even about what you were going to do, how your parents would react?”

“Not even a little bit.”

It was Sarah’s turn to let out a big laugh, imagining the strong, confident surgeon stress over pain, rather than the practical side of a teenage pregnancy.

“How DID your parents find out?”

She snorted, “They didn’t!”

Sarah laughed even harder, and a couple near them turned their heads to stare.

Rosie brought both rounds of shots; The tequila, and whatever a Mexican candy shot was. The tequila shot was a yellow-y caramel color, with salt and a lime on the rim. The Mexican candy shot was a pinkish red shot with what seemed to be Tajin salt around the rim, and a lime as well.

Ava nodded at the shots, “Which first?”

“The pink one,” Sarah reached for it, “What’s in it?” She gave it a sniff.

“It’s watermelon-y,” Ava grinned, “Bottoms up?”

Sarah clinked her shot against Ava’s, and threw it back. The Tajin shocked her taste buds, and the first taste of the actual shot was sweet, like biting into a cool, crisp watermelon on a warm summer day. Almost as soon as she tasted the watermelon, she tasted what seemed like hot sauce, and tart lime juice.

“Ugh, I love those,” Ava dramatically rolled her eyes back, before grinning at Sarah, who gave a smile in return.

“I’m a little scared of the tequila,” Sarah admitted.

“What? Bad night in college?” Ava teased, and Sarah blushed with embarrassment.

“I’ve… Actually never had tequila.”

“So why are you scared? You can wipe the salt off, you know.”

The tequila shot didn’t necessarily disgust her, but she didn’t enjoy it. The salt made her stick her tongue out in disgust, and the alcohol burned on her tongue. She looked up at Ava through watery eyes, and Ava was looking at her with an expression that Sarah couldn’t quite understand.

Ava clapped, and Sarah coughed, and their food arrived. Sarah went tunnel-vision on her food, and Ava’s laughter through their conversations was almost more intoxicating than the alcohol. By the time they finished dinner, Sarah was on her third, maybe fourth margarita. Ava coerced her into another tequila shot, and they shared a plate of churros. Sarah had even tried Ava’s, wiping off the salt from her rim.

The bill was well over a hundred dollars, most of it being alcohol, and Ava paid it with eight twenty-dollar bills without a second thought, and dragged Sarah out by the elbow.

“Y’know,” Sarah slurred, “I thought you hated me.”

Ava’s face fell, “I know.”

“I thau’ you’d neva’ talk t’ me again,” She mumbled, leaning into Ava.

“I know.”

“I was so so sad.”

“I know.”

They were quiet. The only sounds were the Chicago streets. The sounds melted together in Sarah’s head, and she felt miles taller than she was, and miles shorter at the same time. She felt like she might float away, like Ava’s arm was the only thing keeping her on Earth. Sarah was a balloon, but Ava was the string.

“Wanna go back to my place?” Ava whispered, seeming stone cold sober even though they had had the same amount to drink. Sarah was infatuated with her - Everything she did seemed to make her more and more attractive.

Sarah had half a mind to say no, but nodded eagerly.

“You bought me dinner,” Sarah sighed happily, “You’re so nice to me.”

“It was my pleasure.”

“Mmhmm…” Sarah agreed, “Because surgeons make more than psychiatrists.”

Ava laughed loudly, stumbling a bit herself, “How are you going to pay off all your debt if you buy dinner, miss fresh-out-of-medical-school?”

“Maybe I don’t hate the salt,” Sarah blurted out, ignoring Ava’s joke.

The two walked arm in arm, each of them letting out a giggle every few steps. Ava’s sober front slowly fell, leaving her just as messy as Sarah. They each did their fair share of holding each other up, until the doorsteps of the apartment building Ava lived in.

They stopped.

Ava stared into Sarah’s eyes, as if trying to puncture her soul with an IV needle. Ava had brown eyes - The kind that filled your heart with warmth like you’d just downed a hot cup of coffee between patients - And Sarah knew she had noticed it before, but she couldn’t remember when she realized how beautiful they were.

Ava’s breath, that once smelled like her chapstick and chewing gum, now smelled of strawberry margaritas, tequila shots, and salsa. Her mascara was mildly smeared, not from crying, but from God knows what antics the two had gotten up to. Her teeth were starkly white when she smiled, and made Sarah wonder if they were naturally that white, or if she had treated them to get there.

Ava’s lips made contact with Sarah’s before Sarah even knew they were heading that direction, and she simultaneously tensed her whole body and felt like she was melting to the floor.

Someone’s going to see, someone’s going to see us and hurt me, someone’s going to know-

Ava pulled off with a smack, and smiled coyly, “Wanna head upstairs?”

Sarah nodded, eyes wide. She felt short of breath, and anxiety bubbled in her stomach. Does she mean what I think she means?

She tripped twice heading up the stairs - The elevator was out of order. Ava held on to her, drunk but still more coordinated than Sarah could ever hope to be. Sarah saw stars, and a halo around Ava’s head, convincing her drunk mind that the blonde woman beside her was truly an angel.

When they got to Ava’s apartment, they were kissing before they even closed the door. Ava pushed Sarah against the wall, tearing her jacket off first and then Sarah’s. Somehow, with her eyes closed, she still managed to hang them up on the coat hooks beside their heads.

Ava pulled Sarah’s hair tie out, and tangled her hands in the woman’s curly locks. She needed her lips like she needed oxygen to breathe, and neither of them wanted to let go. Sarah felt things shift between her legs, making her attraction to Ava apparent to her, but even in her intoxicated state she still managed to feel the pang of dysphoria, which made her nauseous. Regardless, she didn’t falter, no matter the discomfort deep in the pit of her stomach.

“I’ve never kissed a girl before,” Sarah breathed out between kisses.

Oh God.

“Honored to be your first,” Ava responded, equally as preoccupied.

Ava rested her hands on Sarah’s waist, hiking her shirt up slightly in the process. She shivered as Ava’s cold hands made contact with her skin, and her southern equipment stirred, making her dysphoric yet again and only contributing to the nausea. At this point, she couldn’t tell if she was truly nauseous from the alcohol, or just so dysphoric and anxious that her stomach couldn’t tell the difference. She powered through, distracting herself in the warmth of Ava’s mouth and the light touch from her fingertips.

Ava creeped up Sarah’s ribcage until she could feel the underwire of her bra, and then slipped her hands under. Sarah was suddenly very aware of her lower regions, her gaff, and how thin her scrubs were. She would be screwed if something slipped out.

Note to self:

Ava kissed down her neck.

Write a good review for this gaff later.

Ava started unbuttoning her shirt, kissing the newly bare areas as she went. Once she reached the bottom, her lips darted back up to her collarbone, sucking a hickey into the sensitive area.

Sarah’s job was to keep breathing, and not let the panic get the better of her.

This is fine. Adults do this. I’m an adult. She doesn’t know, and she wont find out because I won’t let this go that far.

Ava’s lips captured Sarah’s again.

I won’t let this go far enough to be a problem.

Ava’s hands trickled down to the button on her pants, and Sarah took in a sharp breath.

Ava looked up quizzically, “Do you want this?”

Yes, but I can’t.

Sarah didn’t respond, hoping her fear was not evident in her eyes.

The surgeon put one hand on Sarah’s cheek, and relaxed her other hand from her waistband, “You don’t have to. I won’t be mad.”

Sarah nodded, then shook her head, “I- uh, I don’t want to.”

The anxiety in her chest fizzled out as Ava stepped away, and as much as she craved intimacy, Sarah knew this was better. Ava gave her a warm smile, and held out her hand.

Sarah took it, receiving a squeeze from her, “I can get an Uber or a Lyft…”

Ava looked taken aback, “Why? You can stay, you know. You think I’m going to kick a drunk girl out at,” She glanced at her phone, “Eleven o’ clock at night?”

Sarah smiled sheepishly, and stood awkwardly for a second, “Uh… Where’s your bathroom?”

“Oh! That door right there,” She pointed to a modern white door, with silver fixtures. Sarah stumbled towards the bathroom, and practically fell into the room.

She closed the door behind her, and leaned against it. She slumped down, pulled her knees to her chest and rested her forehead against them.

After a few minutes of deep breathing exercises, she opened the door and hollered, “Ava?!”

“Yes?” The aforementioned woman looked up from the couch, where she was sipping a glass of water and playing a game on her phone.

“Is it okay if I shower?”

“Yeah! Let me get you something to sleep in, I think we’re similar in size.”

Sarah closed the door as Ava got up, and a few minutes later, there was a knock at the door. Sarah opened it, and Ava handed her a stack of folded clothes, with two towels on the bottom, “I didn’t know if there were any towels in there, so if there are, just leave any extras under the sink.”

Sarah nodded, and Ava gave her a tight-lipped smile, and left.

Sarah closed the door.

It seemed that Sarah was given a bright pink muscle tee, with the words “Cardiac care is a work of heart” in all caps, with an anatomical heart image, and a pair of loose black sweatpants. She rolled her eyes at the shirt, surprised that Ava would own it. It seemed silly.

Sarah stripped, turned the water on as cold as it could go, and jumped in.

-

-

(A/N) thx for reading ! lmk what you thought <3

[fivefeetfear]

Chp 3

I am so happy you guys love the story! Thank you for all your support!

..........................................................

It was nearly 1 o'clock pm and (Y/N) stood nervously in the crowd of her students. They all stood in a circle as they had a dance battle with one another as the speakers shook the room. Some did solo routines and others did groups, it was all in good competitive fun. Class ended earlier than expected since (Y/N) kinda breezed through the lesson completely thrilled to see the shy gem again! So her pupils decided to have a bit of fun before calling it a day. (Y/N) watched the entrances of the classroom waiting to spot Spinel. She couldn't get that cute gem out of her mind all day! With her spiky ponytails and big ol eyes! And the accent! Oh goodness, the accent! It made her very gem melt! The short gem dazed off as she fiddles with the ends of her locks, happily daydreaming.

"Ms. (Y/N) why don't you join in on the fun." A pink emerald student asked.

"Yeah! Show them how it's done!" A yellow sapphire encourages. (Y/N) shifts her (E/C) eyes to the two gems and flashes them an apologetic smile.

"Not today." She declines as she looked back to the time; three more minutes. The two students shrug as they went back to join the fun.

"Oh please, you’ll be on the floor once that spinel walks right through the door. You are sooooo predictable (Y/N)." Amber comments with a playful smirk on her face. (Y/N) playfully scowls the beefy gem as she crosses her arms over her chest taking a confident stance.

"For your information, I am not!" she sass while she walked to the enormous mirror that took up the front of the classroom and readjusted her hair. She put it in an updo to keep the locks out of her face while she was teaching her class. The curvy gem eyes scan over her outfit to make sure she looked presentable for her guest. She wore a loose shirt that showed her bando bra from the sides, cute shorts paired with some simple dancing shoes.

"Then why you trying to look cute for?" Amber quips making the short gem rolls her eyes.

"I am not, this is how I always dress." She informs.

"Mhm, I'd say your shorts are a bit shorter than your usual pair. I can almost see your-." (Y/N) whines loudly as she threw her head back. Goodness, she hated being called out especially by Amber. She wouldn’t stop bothering her until she gave up.

"Fine! I'm showing off a bit, sue me!" she conceded with her cheeks puffed out childishly. Amber chuckle as she places her hands on her hips and glances down at her friend.

"Well then, I would suggest you get a move on to the dance floor and show that spinel what she is working with because she is here." (Y/N) eyes widen as she looked at the mirror to the front door and sure enough, Spinel and Steven were here. (Y/N) felt her gem glowing on the back of her neck seeing how cute Spinel looked. She adored two low pigtails with a dark pink snapback placed on backward; a baggy magenta sweater and fitted black pants matched with dark pink sneakers. The (Y/G) chest tighten as she took in her appearance, oh goodness she so damn cute! The poor thing looked so nervous as she spoke with Steven with concern written all over her face. Oh, how she wanted to go up to her and just hug the poor girl. But her ego wouldn't allow her.

Snapping back to reality, (Y/N) held her head high as she walked into the middle of the dance floor ready to work her magic. She could hear Amber mumble "predictable" under her breath as she followed the small gem.

......

Spinel and Steven made it to the dance studio right on time, and as soon as they enter the room Spinel felt completely insecure. She cast her eyes over to Steven with her head low as she shoves her hands into the pockets of the hoodie.

"Are you sure I look ok? Do you think it's too much?" She asked Steven as she looked down at her new sneakers. Amethyst had styled her today and she felt completely comfortable and herself in it, but it was still taking her time to adjust to the new look.

"You look great! Don't worry about it. Now let's find (Y/N)." Steven hums as he looked over at the crowd of gems and humans cheering, he saw Amber waving them over. The curly-headed teen instantly grabbed Spinel's hand rushing through the crowd reaching the orange gem.

"Hey, Amber, where's (Y/N)?" The human boy asked. Amber simply points over to the dance floor with a cocky smirk. Both Steven and Spinel followed the direction and sure enough, there was (Y/N) dancing to the fast tempo of the song. The pink gem held her breath as she watched the short gem dance so...so....she couldn’t find words for it! Well, she could, but it just made her cheeks hot from embarrassment at the thought of them. Magenta eyes watched as the short gem move her hips in the same way that spellbound her yesterday. (Y/N) was moving fast, her steps are carefully and coordinately placed as she moved to the upbeat rhythm. She bends and sways her body in such a way that made Spinel mind wander. Amber glanced down at the Spinel and smirk as the pink gem drooled over her friend. It was so obvious she had a huge crush on the (Y/G).

(Y/N) felt her body temperature rises when she spots the vividly colored gem in the front of the crowd watching her. This only motivated her to keep going as she turned up the heat. (Y/N) calculated the space behind her before she did three backflips in a row; she bent backwards. She then brings her legs up in the air, her shirt slid down showing off her stomach and back as she positioned herself to a perfect handstand. Spinel's eyebrow arches as she noticed a large spot of discoloration on (Y/N) back. Before Spinel could fully investigate(Y/N) came back down to a straddled split. This made her students go wild as they cheered their teacher on. Poor Spinel nearly stroked out when she saw (Y/N) ass bounce when she landed on the floor; she really could not handle this. Her whole form was on fire and it took so much will power to not pass out right now. Was she fooling herself to believe she had a chance with a gem like (Y/N)?

The (Y/G) female breathes heavily as she was bombarded with praises from her students and friends. Her laughs rings throughout the room causing Spinels chest to tighten. That laugh, it was so beautiful; it sounded like bells. And that smile, it made her stomach fussy inside. The pink gem hopes to one day be the reason behind that smile and her laugher. (Y/N) was able to redirect her student's attention else where as she quickly walks over to Spinel and Steven, she beams a bright toothy grin while she wipes the sweat from her brows.

"Hey, guys how's it going? I didn't even see ya come in." She says coolly. Amber scoffs at her words, which earned a glare from (Y/N).

"Annnyways what's the plan for today?" (Y/N) asks Steven, the boy smiles as he wraps his arm around Spinel's shoulders.

"We are going to take Spins here on a tour of the town! We can show her all the hot spots of Little Homeworld." Steven said joyfully.

"Ok sounds good! Let me change real quick and we can be on our way!" The (G/C) gem states as she walked away to another room to change. Spinel shamelessly watched (Y/N) hips sway as she walks away out of view. The pink gem felt an odd mixture of disgust and satisfaction with herself. Disgusted that she couldn't control her eyes from wandering, but satisfied to have seen more of her beauty. Like her butt is soooooo round. It was hard not to look.

The sound of someone clearing their throat snapped Spinel out of her own head; she looks over at Steven to see him smirking knowingly at her. Spinel frowns as she covered her blazing cheeks with her hands, averting her gaze to the floor embarrassed she was caught.

"Not a word." She mutters as Steven puts his hands up.

"I was only going to say was, I'll be heading out now." Spinel's head whipped up lightning speed to look at her friend with fearful eyes.

"What? You're leaving me? Alone? With her?" She felt herself beginning to panic. She clutches the sleeve of his jacket keeping him close, her eyebrows knitting together. She didn't want him to go! He can't go! Spinel's breathing was coming out rapidly and unevenly as her body felt like it turned into lead.

"Hey, calm down Spins. I'm just going to be gone for a few hours and I'll come back to get you. I'm doing this for you to expand your horizons and meet new people. Besides (Y/N) is really nice." He explains as he places his hands on Spinel's shoulder trying to sooth. She was shaking in fear as she tightens her hold on him.

"B-but what if I m-mess up? Or s-say or d-do something stupid!? What if she d-doesn't like me?! You can't just leave me!" She cried out, anxiety consuming her body. The other gems and humans that were around tried their best to mind their own business, but witnessing Spinel having a meltdown was hard to ignore. Steven shushes her softly as he grabs her hands doing his best to comfort her. Her lower lip quivers as she stares at him with glassy eyes.

"Hey, I believe you won't say or do anything stupid. You are awesome Spinel, and I'm sure (Y/N) is going to love spending time with you." He promised as he slowly let go of the worrying gem.

"If you ever need anything, you can just call me on my cellphone and I'll be back. Can you just at least try?" he asks her softly, Spinel's eyes drifted away from his gaze as she offered a weak nod.

"Good! You'll do great and have fun!" And with that Steven walked out the studio, he gave her one final wave from the wide window before disappearing.

Spinel's arms slowly coiled around herself as she gritted down on her teeth. Would she be ok? Could she do this? Of course not! (Y/N) is a ball of energy and positivity and she is just...herself. How was she supposed to keep up with her? How was she supposed to make herself interesting enough for that perfect gem? Doubt rested heavily on her shoulders as her frown deepens. (Y/N) wouldn't stay with her once she finds out Steven is gone. She could see the disappointment on her face already when she’ll learns about the boy absence. The thought of the (Y/G) eyes filling with regret at spending the day with her made her choke.

"I can't. I-I can't do this." she mutters, her feet began to walk towards the exit of the studio. She swung the door open and steps into the outside world.

"Hey Spinel wait for me!" (Y/N) cries out. The pink gem turns around to see the short girl standing beside her. She wore a cute (F/C) dress with wedges. Her hair is up in a neat ponytail showing off more of her facial features. Spinel instantly noticed the presence of makeup on her face; her lashes look darker and thicker from the mascara. Here lips shiny from the coat of lip-gloss making her lips look plump. It wasn't much and hardly noticeable but Spinel could tell.

"Where are you going? And where’s Steven?" (Y/N) asks as she searched for the half gem boy. Spinel slouches her shoulders as she avoids eye contact with the girl.

"He left." She mutters. Y/N brows quirks up as she stood before the slender gem.

"So it will just be us?" She asks curiously. Spinel nods back in response afraid to speak. (E/C) eyes widen at the news, but her gem grew warm. She was going to be alone with Spinel? She will have this cutie to herself all day? The (C/G) had to remind herself to send a thank you text to the boy. (Y/N) couldn't help the smile that stretched over her face as she nearly bounced in place.

"Ok! Come on there is so much to see!" Spinel was taken by surprise by the short gems enthusiasm as she was yanked by the hand and rushed down the road. What? She actually wants to spend the day with her? Really? Why? The pink gem found herself again in a state of confusion; things weren't connecting for her. Why would she want to hang out with her and be her friend? Spinel understand she has friends, but it took a while for her to accept that it was real. But here is this beautiful gem, nose-diving into a potential friendship with her without a second thought. In addition, Spinel didn't have to do anything to entertain her or beg (Y/N) in any way. If anything it's (Y/N) trying to entertain her! No one has ever done that for her and...and it felt amazing. It felt so damn good that someone else was initiating the friendship first that wasn't herself. This concept was difficult for the pink gem to wrap her head around, she was about to dismiss her own theory. That all quickly changed when (Y/N) flashes a genuine smile, it brought Spinel to tears. She really did want to spend the day with her, she truly did. The fear and doubt that was manifesting insider her core subsided and was replaced with excitement. Spinel tightens her grip on (Y/N) hand as she too started to pick up pace as she raced down the sidewalk with (Y/N).

[codedredalert]

abandoned lawsan fantasy magic royalty arranged marriage fic excerpt

(Earlier this year, I made a deal with @yukino-ks that I'd trade x words of my abandoned lawsan bigbang attempt depending on their exam results. They got 2.6k off me and I've been terribly slow in getting an excerpt I can actually show people. (There's a reason I abandoned over 20k and several editing passes.) It's unbetad and WIP and just an excerpt of a longfic so it has some notes mixed in, but I finally have something I'm willing to let see light of day. Sorry I took so long, and congrats on doing well!)

Warnings: forced marriage, dark themes, magic coercion (I mean, Doffy exists), general background awfulness, but hey cute heart pirates interaction 

.

The engagement ring sat heavy on Sanji's finger, warm with his own body heat and with the faint power of Law's magic. A pale blue stone on a white-gold band, the crisp blank sky of winter finally breaking, the white-blue of lightning, of a glacier cracking as it falls into the sea. 

Law on the marble floor collapsed when the King Donquixote no longer deigned to puppet his broken body with the betrothal ceremony finished. 

Absently, Sanji played with the ring, conscious of the feel of it against his skin, how it changed how he moved his hand. He wondered if Law was awake and about, or if he was still in the deep healing sleep that prompted his servants to close ranks and politely ask Sanji to leave. He wondered if he could ask, or if that would destroy the tentative sort-of friendship they'd started to form before the cruel proceedings of the day before. Sanji had followed his first instinct was to help, to kneel beside Law and help him bear up his weight on fractured bones, to help him back to his tower— it might have done more harm than good. Law was a proud man, and Sanji had inadvertently wounded his pride. 

A knock on the door dragged Sanji from his thoughts.

"Yes?" he asked, dropping his hand to his side and standing. The person at the door merely knocked again, so Sanji opened the door. 

It's Law, his hair messy and in simple sleeping clothes, dark, soft, and formless. His symbol is emblazoned across his chest in yellow. A hint of bruising and the peek of a bandage shows where the fabric drapes off Law's prominent collarbones. 

A stab of pity and empathy and solidarity goes through Sanji, and the hand he has on the handle of the door goes numb as it grips harder, where Law cannot see.

"Come with me," said Law. He started moving away, giving Sanji space to enter the corridor. 

Sanji raised a brow and the oddly visceral feelings evaporated instantly. 

"Good morning to you too," replied Sanji, even as he followed and closed the door behind him. It melded back to the stone wall, perfectly hidden. "Go with you where?" 

"Kitchens." Law's walking gait was slower and shorter than usual, and uneven though he still stood tall. It was almost like yesterday hadn't happened, except for the glimpse of pale metal and yellow stone on his hand. 

"Oh, you're wearing it," came out of Sanji's mouth before he realised how stupid that sounded. He couldn't let his guard down just because his bleeding heart had gone out to Law when it turned out that the Crown Prince was very human behind all the rumours. 

Law blinked at him in surprise, lifting his hand to look at the ring, as if he'd forgot it was there, like it'd always been there and he had only just noticed. 

"Yeah," he said, looking away a bit too quickly. "This way." 

===/\===

A set of heavy wooden doors opened to a cosy kitchen, packed to full with people seated at a long wooden table, laden with plates and bowls of sweet oat porridge, flatbreads, steamed buns, eggs and bacon and beans, with savoury rice porridge, with noodles— cuisines from all over. Sanji barely had a moment to take it all in as everyone at the table jumped up, cheering and clapping. 

"Welcome to His Highness' lover!" someone hooted and loud laughter ensued, whistles and cheering resounded. Someone shoved a champagne flute into his hand and another someone all but dragged him to the bench where somehow the rest of the table squeezed to make space for him. 

"Congrats on being a bad influence on His Highness," the redhead who dragged him to the table said cheerily as he squeezed his chair in to reach the table. "Bread roll?" 

Sanji took one and it was good bread, a crust which crunched lightly under his fingers, soft fluffy insides when he broke it open and placed it on his plate. 

"Bad influence?" asked Sanji, bewildered by the ruckus. He looked round for Law, and found him standing just behind his left shoulder. Law nodded, sipping from a bright yellow mug which he hadn't been holding a moment before.

"You defied Doflamingo," Law explained.

Oh, they had to be referring to the sarcastic backtalk Sanji had made when the giant pink-feather fashion disaster tried to get him to report on Law's comings and goings. So Law had been conscious for that. Sanji was suddenly very glad he'd decided to mouth off instead of try to pretend to play along. Besides, it had been a clever comeback.

"Anything that pisses off the King Asshole, or any of the assholes over in the Toybox, makes you alright with us," the redhead elaborated, dumping half a plate of greasy bacon on Sanji's plate.  

"And if you can get our prince to eat, everyone will love you," the person seated on the redhead's other side said. It was the man with the white and black hat, who had taken a half-unconscious Law from Sanji and barked out orders to the other servants before politely asking Sanji to leave. He frowned as the redhead took the rest of the bacon, stacking the empty plate beneath his own. "And dammit Shachi, I wanted some." 

"Not my fault your food scramble game is weak, Peng. Ask Ikkaku to pass some, there's another plate on the other end of the table," Shachi said unapologetically. The man in the hat rolled his eyes, but turned and yelled down the other end of the table for the bacon. 

Sanji took a moment to process all this and looked back to Law. 

"You don't eat?" asked Sanji, incredulous. 

"I do."

"Coffee isn't food," Peng recited almost like a proverb as he put some bacon on his plate. He did not offer it to Shachi. 

For a moment, Law didn't answer, and then pointedly, he sipped his coffee. It was so bratty and childlike that Sanji nearly choked trying not to laugh. 

Peng rolled his eyes and looked to Sanji. 

"You see what we have to work with?" he said, as if Law couldn't hear them. "The list of what he eats could be written on your palm." 

Now if that weren't a challenge Sanji couldn't refuse— 

"Write it down for me and give me free reign of a kitchen," Sanji replied. "And I'll see what I can do." 

"You don't have to," Law started to say, just as Peng grinned and said "Done!", reaching over Shachi's plate to shake Sanji's hand. 

Sanji shook on it, excited for the chance to cook again for the first time since coming to Dressrosa. Law rolled his eyes, but fondly. If he'd really wanted to, he could order otherwise. It was… nice, that he let this go. 

"Do you think I could try some?" asked the huge polar bear toy seated on Law's other side. Sanji startled, still not quite used to toys talking, but Law's hand just went up to pat the toy bear on his nose.

"You can't eat, Bepo. Otherwise I have to operate on you again and wash out your stuffing." Law paused. "I don't know why you like it anyway. It's not like you can taste it."

"It looks pretty and everyone else gets to eat. I feel lonely."

Law patted Bepo on the nose again comfortingly. 

"It's not that great," said Law. He finished his coffee.

Sanji resolved then and there to make Law eat those words with dinner. 

===/\===

[More conversation, Shachi and Bepo are escorting Sanji back to his room. Originally, I had fun worldbuilding stuff about how much Law hates the tower and Bepo's origin story but it's not relevant in the excerpt.]

"What's that?" asked Sanji. In a short joining corridor between this homey servant's kitchen and the lonely tower and its rooms which lock from the outside, there was a space where he could see a sliver of sky, and a splash of colour below. 

"What's what?" asked Shachi. Sanji gestured over the side of the open down to a sort of courtyard garden, with flowering plants grown in elaborate patterns so from the top down, they formed complicated motifs and images of a strange ship breaking the waves, a treasure chest and a heart. 

"It's pretty, right?" said Bepo cheerfully. "His Highness does it himself, he moves the flowers around when he's had a bad dream. He says it makes him feel better." 

There was space, paths amongst the flowers, a couple of benches and a small pavilion, along with the little pond and irrigation system and lights. 

"It's Law's garden, then," said Sanji, an idea coming to mind. "Say, is there a table in that pavillion?" 

===/\===

[Sanji cooks dinner for Law and they have a nice romantic dinner in the pavillion but Law Does Not Care about food and that is honestly kind of upsetting for Sanji. I had to cut my favourite part of the entire fic out and that hurtie just a bit.]

"If you've had enough of forcing me to eat—" Law said, and Sanji wanted to snap at that, but Law managed to finish his sentence first. "Do you want to take a walk?" 

"I thought you had work to do?" replied Sanji, a little coldly, but Law didn't seem to notice. He shrugged.

"It can wait, I'll be up late tonight anyway."

They walk. The air is cold, and clouds roll through the courtyard sometimes, wisp and damp and cold. The courtyard meets the side wall of the castle, and on the other side is the steep drop into a distant dark fog. 

It didn't take long to walk the entirety of the courtyard, small as it was. They sat on the lone bench, it was dewy with the condensation of the clouds and the rapidly cooling night. 

"So, with all this, I take it you want to try and act like lovers," commented Law. 

It was more a judgment than a question. Sanji stiffened, was Law going to make fun of him? 

"Not with that attitude," Sanji retorted. His hand went to his pocket for his cigarettes. He lit one, agitated and feeling like the effort he'd put into making the evening nice was, all in all, a nett waste. 

Law considered Sanji without taking any offence. 

"I'm not interested anyway. Don't get me wrong," Law added quickly, a hand outstretched as Sanji sat straighter, half-way to standing and walking away. "You're plenty attractive, and if it's sex you want, I could show you a good time." 

"You know the meaning of the word?" 

Law ignored his interjection. 

"It's the… other things," he continued calmly. "The holding hands and fancy dinners and being sentimental. I'm not good at that. I'm not going to stab you if you look at another man, and I'd prefer the same vice versa." 

Sanji looked at him flatly. 

"What." 

"It's common enough around here that there's a proverb that... never mind, the explanation is too long. The point is, if romance is what you're hoping to get out of this marriage, I'm going to disappoint. I can put up with it a little bit but not for long."

"Why the marriage, then?"

Law's head snapped to him sharply. His expression made him look more angry than confused, though his tone when he spoke was confused. 

"I told you, after the ceremony," Law said, as if he expected Sanji to remember every detail said when Law had been crumpled on the floor and bleeding through his engagement suit. "We both got signed away without having any say in it. I thought we had an understanding, and I'm surprised you want something more. I mean, it's…" He couldn't seem to find an adjective for it. "Well. it's something. That you want to try. I'm flattered." 

"You couldn't refuse this marriage?" asked Sanji, processing this new information. If it were true, that made Law more a fellow prisoner than a bored and slightly sympathetic jailor. That changed everything, it meant Sanji had more allies than he thought. Still— "But you tried. That time before the betrothal ceremony. You told the King you're not marrying anyone."

"And that clearly worked," Law retorted snidely. His glowing yellow eyes were less friendly now. "So, is that what you thought of me? And all this— the aid, the kindness, the food— was this you bending backwards to keep me happy? So I don't call off the engagement and leave you to face your family's wrath for losing a valuable alliance?"

He was angry, and right. Some of it had been a little calculated, so what? Sanji had nothing here, no rights of magic to stand on, no support, and people who would die if he stepped one toe out of line. That didn't mean he couldn't want something, anything, to make the days more bearable. That maybe, though married to a man he'd never met before, he might have something which passed for love.

"Not… exactly. You already know my situation, and besides, I'm meant to be an insult," explained Sanji, grim. He hadn't expected to speak of this, and it was harder than he thought. "You're the Crown Prince, you should have married my sister, or at the very least the eldest son. Not—" the third son who has no magic to speak of. "Not me. So, you're right. I'm at your mercy. But you've been decent. So I thought. Well. We could be friends at least." 

It took a moment but Law's glare softened, pacified. 

"Don't worry about that part so much. The insult bit— we know. Doflamingo thought it was hilarious. He wants to parade you around until you're the very symbol of the Germa and your father will be associated with you."

A pause. 

"Not liking that much either, " Sanji said, voice flat. 

"He has a shit sense of humour," agreed Law. "Your being fair-haired and a smoker is partly why he agreed, I'm sure. Or he wouldn't have forced me to give you that cloak." 

Speaking of the cloak, Sanji remembered the package he'd put in his bag. He fished it out, and offered it to Law. 

"You can have this back,'' said Sanji. 

"You don't like your betrothal gift?" asked Law, but Sanji noticed he was quick to take the offered cloak in hand. 

"It seems important to you."

… No answer, but Law draped the cloak around his own shoulders. It dwarfed him much like it had dwarfed Sanji. It seemed to be made for someone closer to the King's stature. 

"I was under the impression you're not that fond of the King," Sanji commented.

For a second, it seemed like Law would not respond. Head bowed and eyes closed, with the great cloak around him, he looked small and lost in memory.  

"His brother." said Law without opening his eyes, and he drew the coat tighter around himself with his hands. "My benefactor." 

He brought the sleeve up against the white light of the garden lamp. 

"See?" said Law, and his expression was so gentle that for a moment Sanji felt like he shouldn't have seen it, like it was some secret thing he had no right to. "The deep purple, almost black. It's hard to see, but it's there." 

Sanji tore his eyes from Law's face to look at the shadows of the cloak. Sure enough, there were purple sparks, almost lost in the brighter pink. 

"I see it."

"It's not a powerful type of magic," said Law, voice wistful. "I used to disdain it myself, when I was a child. This particular one is Silent Night— it blocks out noise to give the wearer a— a peaceful sleep."

Law's voice tripped over his words and he lowered the coat, curled over it, for a second he was so overcome with emotion he couldn't speak. Sanji averted his eyes, looking out over the gardens. The pale shapes of the white and yellow flowers in the white garden lights, and the distant moon. The flat blades of the leaves and the washed out mosaic tiles. 

"This—" Law's hands tightened on the cloak in Sanji's peripheral vision. "Means a lot. More than you could know. ...Thanks." 

It was awkward, but then, Law seemed the type unaccustomed to thanking others. 

"You're welcome," Sanji said simply, and they sat together in silence late into the night. 

[calitraditionalism]

Arc Two: Chapter Four

(AO3 counterpart here.)

Mistface would be lying if he said he wasn’t entirely disgusted with his task.

He could see Snowshine from here – she was a pretty white molly with yellow eyes, and she was currently pulling a squirrel from the oversized prey pile. She looked a little anxious… perhaps ‘stressed’, rather, was the right word. Her fur was fluffy, and Mistface could guess that it was normally very well groomed and smoothed down. Right now, it looked like she had slept on it wrong, and then kept turning over in her sleep to make all of it stick out at odd angles.

“Prime for flattery and a kind conversation,” Darkpelt had said to him. “So pour on the charm and pretend you give a hoot about her problems.”

Mistface didn’t like other cats at the best of times. Actively having to seek one out and act interested in them was like finding a stinking, rotting piece of meat in the grass and being told to eat it with a genuine smile.

Nevertheless, he had a mission (why had he agreed to this again?), so he gently shook out his fur, let it settle, and sauntered forward for the prey-pile.

Snowshine glanced up as he approached and blinked in surprise. He smiled pleasantly at her and sniffed a mouse.

“They make prey so much better ‘round these parts,” he said in his news-and-weather voice. “Marshes must take the taste right out of whatever StarClan sends down.”

Snowshine relaxed and some of her fur flattened, though it was still awkwardly angled. “I haven’t really been anywhere but here. You’re from the south? Scattered, I'm guessing?”

“That I am.” Mistface tilted his head and crinkled his eyes in fake amusement. “Accent give it away?”

She laughed a little. “Just a bit.” She looked him over with roaming eyes. Mistface tried not to get annoyed. “I don’t think I heard your name when you came in. You were with that blind molly, right?”

“Mm.” He tilted his head a little to the left with a winning smile. “I’m Mistface.”

“Oh!” Snowshine perked up even more. “Then you’re Greyleaf’s brother! He’s always talking about you and your mother.”

“Oh, dear.” Mistface made a face of pretend worry. “Must not have a real good impression of me, then.”

“Actually, he has nothing but nice things to say about you,” Snowshine hurried to reply. “He says you’re really charming and kind.”

“We’ll have to see if that’s the case, then, won’t we?” Mistface said, giving her an appraising look. She suddenly seemed a little shy. He wanted to vomit.

Snowshine shuffled her feet and pointed with her tail to a rare grassy spot just beyond a pair of houses. “I, um, usually eat over there, if you want to come with. It’s a lot warmer than anywhere else in the village.”

“That’d be nice.” Mistface picked up a random piece of prey (a black bird of some kind) and waited for her to do the same with her meal before walking with her to the grass. He was very grateful he didn’t have to say anything now that his mouth was occupied.

Once they were settled across from each other, Mistface started pulling some of the feathers off of his prey’s belly. “I do have to ask – you’re a seer, I'm guessin'. And a real good one, goin’ by your suffix. What are you doin’ here in Clast?”

“Oh, well…” Snowshine swallowed the mouthful of squirrel she had already taken. “Everywhere needs a seer. And now, with Redheart doing her… thing... the actual Clast cats need someone to sort of be in charge.” She gave a weak chuckle, seemingly to herself. “They’re not too happy with her bringing in a bunch of strangers that don’t want to fight.”

“Y’all have plenty of loners come in, though, don’t you?”

“Yes, definitely, but they’re at least here to test their strength, and then they leave.” Snowshine sighed. “Not that I like them barging in all the time, but the rest of Clast does. These new cats are just here because of Redheart’s new ideas. They turn down too many fights for Clast’s liking. And, well, Redheart acting so odd anyway…”

Mistface had the sneaking suspicion that Snowshine did not voice her thoughts too often to anyone around the settlement. Suddenly, now that someone was listening and apparently caring, she was off. Mistface simply nodded and let her go about her new duties and how Redheart was this and that, and on and on, while he ate his bird.

“…I mean, I haven’t even been able to go to the Lighthouse, I’ve been so busy. StarClan can speak to us anywhere, I know, but sleeping at the very bridge to heaven is the best way to talk directly.”

She paused for breath, and Mistface took the opportunity to comment, “And StarClan can’t reach you at all if you leave with Redheart, I’m guessin’.”

“She’d like that,” Snowshine said, with a sudden darkness. “She’s always been weird about StarClan. Never even thinks to just have me ask them what to do about whatever problems come up, even for big things.” She looked around and leaned in a little, Mistface copying her, and whispered, “I think it’s just because she has these nightmares now and then. She thinks that StarClan’s giving her the silent treatment, so she’s getting bad dreams instead of visits from our ancestors.”

Nightmares… Mistface hummed in thought, keeping his voice low. “Well, don’t tell anyone, but my brother has the same problem.”

“Really?” Snowshine’s eyes widened.

“He’s had nightmares all his life.” Mistface knew that Greyleaf didn’t consider this particular fact a secret, but pretending to share some intimate detail with Snowshine would only help her trust him more, so he continued with his conspiring tone. “StarClan’s never talked to him, either.”

Snowshine nodded like he had given her the answer to all of life’s questions. “That must be why they get along so well, then.”

“Mm.” Mistface drew his head back, but stayed quiet. “Any other seers ‘round here that could help?”

“Well, we have the one that came in.” Snowshine made a slightly distasteful face. “Starkfeather. But he’s… not exactly someone I would go out of my way to talk to about stuff like this. I don’t know that he’d be particularly helpful.”

Mistface winked. “Not on your level, at least, I take it.”

Snowshine smiled bashfully and Mistface silently cursed Darkpelt for making him do this. “Maybe not… an apprentice arrived one day that used to train as a seer, but she’s going to be a warrior instead, so I didn’t want to bother her and ask.”

Snowshine started again on her rambling, this time about the various new cats that had come in recently. Mistface listened solely because she could say something important.

She didn’t.

He did not like her.

 ---

 When night arrived, everyone settled in to sleep, except for Beetlefoot. He instead took the opportunity to pretend take a walk and enjoy the night sky. When he was far enough away from the eyes and ears of the Clast camp, he took off north, never once looking upward (it was a waste of time).

He was lucky enough to meet no one on his path – during the living years, everyone stayed in underground dens or moved to whatever trees or shelter they could find to escape the rain. There was no rain tonight, but clouds were coming again from the coast. Even this far away, Beetlefoot could gather that Petrichor and Derecho, the aspects of storms, would be arriving soon with a determination to soak the earth.

Which means he would leave footprints on his next trip, if he wasn’t careful.

Beetlefoot caught a scent of a familiar cat and slowed down to a loping canter. He lifted his head up again, keeping his chest puffed out as well as he could while staying at his current speed. He already knew how this was going to go for him. Drop off the information, be dismissed, leave without another word. Other Fleet members liked to swap conversations. Just not usually with him.

Never a change in that, until Nettlecloud and her strange sons.

He saw a cat rise from the grass and turn to face him, soon followed by four others. He slowed again, this time to his regular trot, and nodded sharply once he was within earshot. He stopped a few feet away from the leader, a grey molly with a heavily scared muzzle, and stood about as tall as he could. He was still much shorter than everyone else.

“Beetlefoot, yeah?” the molly said. “Clean path here?”

“Yes.” Beetlefoot dipped his head. “No thorns on the way, Shreddednose.”

He didn’t particularly like trading the common polite phrases with other members of the Fleet, but it was all he usually got in the way of conversation, so he took it. It was just good to be greeted at all by one of the more prolific patrollers in the Fleet.

A lanky black molly took several long steps forward. “What’ve you got for us?”

This, he thought, was Striderfoot. He had only met her once, and she had been similarly brisk. He could respect that. “Information about Redheart.”

He recited everything Darkpelt and Mistface had gathered and given him – leaving out, he noted with pride, absolutely nothing. Striderfoot narrowed her eyes, listening carefully, until he concluded. She looked at Shreddednose.

“You got everything?” Shreddednose said.

“Everything,” Striderfoot affirmed. “Want me to head off now?”

“You might as well.” Shreddednose tapped Striderfoot’s side with her tail. “Frostclaw can go with you, if you want. That predator and all.”

“What, and be slowed down by her lumbering rump?” Striderfoot said, and grinned when a white molly came up and bopped her. “I’ll be fine. It’ll be light by the time I get there.”

“Then try to be safe for once,” Shreddednose said fondly.

“Of course.” Striderfoot turned, nodded at Beetlefoot, and said quiet goodbyes to the rest of her team before taking off at a sprint (I could outrun her, Beetlefoot thought snippily).

Shreddednose smiled, then returned to professionalism when she looked back at Beetlefoot. “Nothing else?”

Beetlefoot pretended he didn’t feel a little deflated. “Nothing else.”

“Chase the wind, then.” Shreddednose bowed her head.

“Only the warmest breezes.” Beetlefoot mirrored her gesture to her, then to the others, who looked indifferent to his existence. He whirled around and sprinted off, hastening to leave the situation before it turned awkward.

He was right, at least. He could outrun her.

[detroitwhatitmeanstobehuman]

Chapter 1 - One and the Same

Part 1/17 of What it Means to be Human

Word Count: 10,810

Warnings: Swearing. There’s a lot of it, our girl’s a foulmouth.

Genre: Self-insert fic

Pairing: OC (Detective Rachel) X Connor

Rating: Mature

Summary: Lieutenant Hank Anderson, while interrogating the android that murdered Carlos Ortiz, brings in one of his strangest and yet uniquely skilled detectives in the DPD - Detective Rachel. Connor, the android sent by CyberLife much to Anderson’s behest, finds himself intrigued by Rachel’s foulmouthed and prickly nature, yet immense and unabashed sense of empathy and compassion towards others.

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

Date: November 6th, 2038  Time: 12:41 AM Objective: Extract Confession Hank - Neutral

“Why d'you kill him? What happened before you took that knife?” A greying man with chin-length hair and a scruffy, but kept, beard asked the man sitting across from him.

Approximately an hour ago, Connor and Lieutenant Hank Anderson had apprehended a deviant android hiding at the scene of a homicide. And now, the android was brought in for questioning. Though it didn’t appear to cooperate with the lieutenant’s questions and simply stayed silent, not looking the aged man in the eyes. 

Stealing a glance back at both Connor and Detective Gavin Reed, a rather disheveled and rough-looking man, through the two-way mirror. A black police officer named Chris Miller was seated at the controls on Connor’s left. “How long were ya in the attic? Why didn't you even try to run away?” No answer from the android. The lieutenant reached across to snap his fingers at it, as if trying to catch its attention. 

Hank seemed to glance back at the others in disbelief before losing his patience and slamming his hands on the table. “Say something, goddamnit!” He shouted at it. 

No response, still. The lieutenant seemed to have enough and lifted himself up from his seat. “Fuck it, I'm outta here..." He muttered, turning around and opening the door, leaving the interrogation room.

It didn’t take long before Hank entered the observation side of the mirror with the others, huffing his complaints. “We're wastin' our time interrogating a machine, we're gettin' nothing out of it!” He sat down next to Chris harshly, getting agitated.

“'Could always try roughing it up a little.” Gavin suggested casually. “After all, it's not human..."

“Androids don't feel pain.” Connor pointed out. “You would only damage it and that wouldn't make it talk.” He took another look at the deviant on the other side of the mirror before he heard the door open beside him. “Deviants also have a tendency to self-destruct when they're in stressful situations.”

“So do I. They’re not special.” An unfamiliar female voice replied with a scoff. As Connor turned around to see who it belonged to, he found himself facing a shorter woman with short, wavy, dark brown hair and dark eyes that matched framed by the frames of a pair of rounded rectangular glasses. She was wearing a dark brown sweater with thick horizontal stripes of a much darker grey.

“Hi, Rachel.” Chris greeted pleasantly.

Hank scoffed in her direction. “Well, well, well. Nice of you to finally join us, Rachel.”

“Oh, well sorry I’m late, Hank.” She replied sarcastically, cocking a smirk and a thick eyebrow at him. “I was finishing the paperwork for one of my closed cases that Fowler wanted done ASAP, and I’d rather give him some good news for once.” The woman then fixed Connor with an interested stare, taking in his features as she glanced up and down his frame. “I know you have the whole ‘bear aesthetic’ goin’ on, Hank, but I didn’t realize this was your taste in men. A bit on the nose, isn’t it?”

The glare Hank fixed her with could cut glass while Chris was snickering and Gavin was laughing. “Oh, bite me, Rachel.” He growled.

“Oh, relax, Hank. I’m just poking fun.” She said with a playful smile, gently brushing Hank’s shoulder. Connor could tell immediately that they were rather familiar with each other. Rachel then returned her focus on Connor, her eyes glittering with intrigue. “So, who is this tall glass o’ water you’ve got here, Hank?”

Gavin let out a disgusted groan that Connor ignored. “My name is Connor. I’m the android sent by CyberLife.” He answered with his templated response.

Rachel - Warm ^ Rachel then nodded, smiling at him as she extended her right hand. “Nice to meet you, Connor.” She replied pleasantly. Connor, recognizing the gesture, took her hand in his and shook it. “My name is Rachel, I’m the detective requested by Hank, since he apparently wanted me to get some action on this.”

Gavin scoffed at her. “Well, you’re wastin’ your time.” He dismissed. “Machine’s clammed up and we’re not gettin’ anything out of it.”

“Not with that attitude, we’re not.” Rachel retorted, turning away from Gavin. “So what have we got, boy - oh my God!” Once she laid eyes on the deviant, her stress seemed to increase. “What the Hell happened to him?”

“It.” Gavin insisted. “It’s not a he.”

“Piss off, Gavin.” Rachel spat at him.

“We found it hiding in the attic of the victim’s house, Carlos Ortiz.” Chris began informing Rachel. “It murdered the victim after he attacked it with a bat, and it’s been hiding out in the attic for three weeks.”

“Hang on. Three weeks?!” Rachel exclaimed in disbelief. “He’s been in this condition for three weeks, and you just kept him like this?! Why hasn’t anyone repaired him, yet?!”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Rachel.” Hank groaned. “This thing fucking killed a man, and you’re worried about it?!”

“If he was a human, this would be considered extremely inhumane even if he was a convicted killer.” Rachel shot back with.

“But it’s not!” Gavin scoffed. “It’s just a fuckin’ machine, and it doesn’t even give a shit whether or not you care! So why bother?”

“Because unlike you, I’m not an insecure manchild with the disposition of a barbed wire dildo covered in syphilis dressed up in the attire of a man who looks like he just crawled out of a racoon-filled dumpster.” Rachel responded with a smug tone of voice.

“Okay, smartass.” Gavin said, throwing up his arms in frustration. “What should we do then?”

Connor, seeing that he should likely intervene, interjected. “I could try questioning it.”

That caused Gavin to divert his attention from Rachel, as he was now laughing at Connor.

Rachel then walked past them, groaning and rolling her eyes at them. “Oh my God, you guys are morons.” She admonished. “He’s not gonna cooperate with you guys. Gavin is...Gavin, and the rest of you were at the crime scene and I’m assuming you were the ones that brought him in. He’s not gonna wanna talk to you because all he sees are the humans that are keeping him captive and the cops that don’t see him as what he thinks he is.”

Hank was getting tired of this, but seemed to be relenting more and more. “So, what’s your verdict, then?”

“Simple.” Rachel said matter-of-factly. “If deviants see themselves as alive and - well, not necessarily human - but on par with humans, then I’ll treat him as such.”

“So, what?” Hank asked. “You’re just gonna...talk to it like it’s a person?”

“No, I’m gonna talk to him like a tired doctor who barely has the patience for this, because that’s very much what the mood is right now.” Rachel answered casually. “I’ll be right back, I just gotta go get some supplies. What model is he?”

Connor, realizing that her question was directed at him, he answered, folding his hands behind his back. “HK400.”

“Thanks, I’ll be back.” Without waiting for an answer, she left the room and Connor could hear her footsteps getting further away.

The android detective found himself wondering about her curiously. She was about as foulmouthed and irritable as Lieutenant Anderson was, but she was nearly the polar opposite in her opinion of androids and her attitude towards Connor.

It was a comparison that Connor found intriguing.

“She seems to be a rather unique character, compared to what I’ve seen thus far.” Connor commented.

“That’s one way to put it.” Chris replied neutrally.

“Yeah, she’s definitely not like most of us.” Hank agreed, nodding his head. “But she’s one of our best. So, it’s worth seeing how this goes.” His praises seemed to be genuine, and Connor sensed that the lieutenant genuinely felt some sense of attachment or affection towards the detective. “Besides, what do we have to lose?”

--------

I knew exactly where I was headed. Most parts for androids were held by Cyberlife in their warehouses, but emergency services such as hospitals and police precincts had stores of spare android parts to both maintain and repair work androids should something happen. Some people had special clearance to repair androids due to their qualifications, of which I had on my resume. Granted, I never actually worked with androids, but my sister used to work at Cyberlife and she taught me a bit about their parts and how to repair them. I figured I could easily repair the deviant, and this would allow me to get to know him and build a rapport with him.

And hopefully get him to confess and give us some insight into him.

I made my way towards the centre which was just between the bathrooms and the holding cells, my key-card allowing me clearance inside. The thing I was most thankful for was that this area was always run by an android, and they weren’t going to ask me weird questions. As I approached, I greeted her. “Hello!” I said brightly.

The android nodded. “Hello.” She replied. “What can I do for you today?”

“If it’s not too much trouble, I’ll need a toolset and I’ll need a bag of thirium.” I said to her. “As well as a pair of arms for the HK400 model.”

“Of course, Rachel.” She responded. The LED on her head spun yellow and then quickly flickered back to blue. She then went into the compartment in the back behind the desk and came out holding two white unskinned android arms in a package and a packet of blue blood, very similar to the blood bags you’d see when you need a blood transfusion. “Anything else?”

“No, that’ll be all, thank you so much!” I said to the android as I was putting it all in a bag.

As I started making my way out, I heard her call out after me. “Have a good night!”

“You too!” I called after her.

No one was giving me any weird looks. There was the occasional curious glance, but I have never in my life felt more grateful for the “mind your own business” environment than I did in that moment. I made my way back to the interrogation room with no problems.

Hooking the bag over my shoulder, I opened the door and walked inside, glancing towards the mirror knowing they were watching me. But I wasn’t intimidated by them. No, I was going to prove a point and they weren’t going to stop me.

But my eyes landed on the android and my heart sank. It was so much worse seeing his condition up close, and I swallowed hard.

His right arm was practically split open, blue blood leaking from it, the other dotted with burns. His face was splattered with red blood, and he was just standing there in front of the glass. I was in so much shock. I had never seen an android that was damaged, but I did not expect it to make my stomach feel so knotted and my throat feel so tight.

Pushing down the lump in my throat, I approached, placing the bag beside the chair across from the android and moving slowly. “Hey.” I said. For a brief moment, his eyes flickered up to me and I saw a quick glimpse of confusion on his face before he glanced downward at the empty space between his hands. “Were you expecting someone else?” No response. “That’s fine, though I’m sorry to disappoint you. And even more regretful to find you in this condition.”

I reached down into the bag and pulled out a bag of thirium, emptying it into a bottle, and placing it on the table. The android’s eyes glanced towards it for a brief moment before returning his eyes to the table. For a moment, I wondered if Hank was getting this too, or if I was making more progress than they were.

Keeping focused on the interrogation, I leaned back in my chair. “Blue blood.” I said to him. “Do you know why I put it here?” He seemed nervous, but still wouldn’t budge. But I wasn’t going to give up. “According to my colleagues, you’ve been stuck in your attic for three weeks. Now, that’s a lot of time for you to be injured and losing blood. And that’s coming from someone who suffers from time blindness. You’re lucky you haven’t shut down.” I studied him and noticed him start to twitch ever so slightly. “And the thing is, I could just give you the blue blood you need to replenish, but in your condition...it could make your bleeding worse if I did. So, first and foremost, I’m going to repair you.”

That seemed to finally get his attention. He finally looked me in the face, confusion in his brown eyes. “What?” He asked, as if he couldn’t believe his ears.

I took this moment to jab a bit at him playfully. “So you do have a voice.”

--------

Hank couldn’t believe his eyes. She actually got the damn thing to talk. He knew that Rachel wasn’t exactly good at being bad cop. Not that she couldn’t be scary or that she wasn’t tough. Far from it.

But in this sort of situation, intimidation wasn’t her strong suit.

Good cop was where she was an asset. She didn’t put on a sap story or make herself seem like a bleeding heart. No matter what she did, she was genuine and earnest. And Hank had a feeling that’s what made her so good at being good cop.

She didn’t pass herself off as a cop. She didn’t try to be overly mushy. And she didn’t try to put on an act. She just acted the way she was and she’s able to get through to a suspect in a way they can understand.

Indeed, the way her mind worked was honestly a marvel. Even suspects that didn’t end up confessing to her, she managed to get to cooperate at least a bit easier because she could easily speak their language just by getting a picture of what they did or didn’t care about.

His focus remained on the interrogation, intrigue pricking at the old man. Hank didn’t have a high opinion of androids for various reasons. And he certainly didn’t see them as anything more than machines. But some part of him wanted to see Rachel prove him wrong, at least in this aspect. She was always an overly empathetic person, as much as Hank saw it as an advantage, she herself admitted that it was also one of her biggest weaknesses. In her own words, she cared too much about others for her own good.

“I’m going to repair you.” Rachel repeated on the other side of the glass. “And I would appreciate it if you cooperated with me doing so, because if you don’t, I’ll have to forcefully repair you, and that won’t be pleasant. And...I’d rather not add more unnecessary trauma to the horrible three weeks you’ve had.”

The deviant seemed even more confused as it just blinked at her. “Why do you look at me like that?” It asked, its voice shaky and uncertain.

Rachel sighed, leaned towards it to rest her elbows on the metal table. “I’ll be honest, I’ve just never seen an android in as bad of a condition as you’re in.” She admitted. “It’s...it’s aggravating to think that people just brush it off. Like it’s nothing. That people buy androids for thousands of dollars just to treat them like shit. But, then again, people did the same thing when they were buying actual human slaves, so I suppose I shouldn’t be that shocked.” She grumbled. Some part of her explanation sliced something deep in Hank and he could sense that an uncomfortable silence had fallen on all of them. Like when someone makes a good point about something really depressing and you can’t think of it the same way ever again. “I know it doesn’t hurt...but it looks really bad.”

“You weren’t there with the other humans last night.” The deviant pointed out, looking at Rachel as if it still didn’t believe she actually cared about it. “Why are you here?”

For a moment, she seemed to ponder something. Likely how much of the truth she should tell it. “Lieutenant Anderson called me in.” She replied. “But I saw the state you were in, and if there’s one thing you have to know about me, it’s that I don’t enjoy seeing people suffer needlessly.” She then turned to the glass to glare inside. “Unlike some people.” She hissed through her teeth.

“Oh, gimme a fuckin’ break.” Gavin complained throwin’ his arms up. “This isn’t going anywhere, just pull her back in here.”

“Just wait.” Hank ordered, silencing Gavin. “She’s getting a lot more out of it than we could, so far. Let’s see where this goes.”

“And I want to help.” Rachel assured him, drawing Hank’s attention back to the interrogation. 

She then reached across to the deviant to touch its hand, but it then recoiled with a yelp. “Don’t touch me!” Rachel jumped back in surprise before she seemed to calm herself down. “Please don’t touch me.”

Rachel then sighed, her face softening. “I’m sorry, I should’ve asked you if it was okay, first.” She apologized, the deviant blinking at her in surprise. “But if you don’t let me repair you, you’re gonna shut down. And I don’t want that to happen. So...you’re gonna have to trust me.” 

The deviant faltered for a moment before Rachel lifted the bag and put it on the table. It looked between her and the bag before she reached her hand out to it. “Give me your hand.” She ordered. The deviant still seemed to hesitate, so Rachel insisted. “Please.”

Blinking at her, it seemed to get the message and did as she asked, giving her its right hand. “Holy shit.” Hank whispered under his breath.

“Thank you.” Rachel said, lingering there for a moment so that the deviant could see that there was no danger. “Now, can you please deskin your arm for me so I can see the extent of the damages done to you?”

Hesitating, the deviant did just that. She got up, moving towards its right side so she could get a better look. “Don’t worry, I’m just getting a better idea of what I’m looking at.” She reassured it, seeming to help it calm down. “By the way, what’s your name?”

The deviant seemed to hesitate for a moment before answering. “HK400.”

Rachel seemed surprised at its answer. “You don’t have a name?” She asked it.

“No..." It replied. “He never gave me one..."

She sighed in what Hank could tell was growing frustration. The kind that signaled that she was getting more and more depressed the more information she was given. “Well, that means you can decide your own name.” 

It glanced up at her, looking confused. “I...can decide my own name?” It asked her.

She shrugged. “Well, yeah.” She answered plainly. “You’re a conscious sentient being, now. And you no longer have a master to obey. There’s nothing stopping you from choosing your own name.” She pointed out. The deviant looked as though it just realized something that was so obvious that it couldn’t believe it didn’t figure it out before. “So, what would you want me to call you?”

The deviant seemed to actually consider this for a moment before it spoke up. “Micheal.” It decided. “My name...my name is Micheal.”

Rachel actually pulled back to smile at it. “Nice to meet you, Micheal.” She said to it. “I’m Rachel.”

--------

Micheal nodded. “Rachel.” He repeated.

He looked up at me, as if to check my movements. Taking a breath, the dark brown android skin on Micheal’s arm had peeled away, leaving only the white plastic polish of the android technology underneath. Although it was battered and split open by damage, dried thirium leaking through the break. Though, after examining his whole arm, I determined that the upper arm where the biceps were was intact, though I would still have to check it to see if it would be worth it to replace the whole arm or just the forearm. 

“I’m going to start working on your arm. I know you don’t feel pain, but I figured it would put you more at ease to know what I’m doing.” I explained to Micheal. “I will definitely have to replace your forearm, but I need to check the whole arm as well.”

He nodded. “Alright, okay.” He said nervously.

Despite feeling as though he trusted me, I wanted to avoid startling him and stressing him out as much as possible. But I had to work on him. “This shouldn’t take too long for me to figure out. Just be patient, and I’ll have you in good condition in no time.” I tried to think of something for him to distract himself. “While I work on repairing you, why don’t you tell me about yourself, Micheal?”

“M-me?” He stammered, looking at me. “W-why?”

I looked down at him. “You’re your own person, now. You can tell me as much as you feel comfortable telling me. I’m not asking for all the ugly details if you don’t trust me enough to tell me them.” I explained to him. “I was more talking about your likes and dislikes. Maybe you have some hobbies, or things you liked doing. Maybe you wanted to do art, or writing, or cooking. I don’t know, whatever you decide to do.”

He blinked a few times at me before he finally asked what I figured was on his mind for the past while. “Why are you doing this?” He said, looking completely confounded. “No human has ever been this kind to me? Why? You have no reason to.”

For someone in his position, I understood why he would ask me that. I found it hard to blame my kindness after what he’d been through. “I guess it’s because I see a lot of myself in you. Well, in androids in general, but more so in deviants like you.”

As I got up to his biceps, he kept his gaze on me. “How?”

“I’ll answer you in a second.” I said as I gripped his arm. “I’m going to move your arm around so I can figure out if I need to replace the whole thing or just your forearm. Okay, Micheal?”

He nodded. “Okay.” He replied.

I bent his arm back in several directions, as I didn’t want to startle or injure him further. As I continued testing the shoulder joint, I felt it lock and stick in places. It definitely wasn’t smooth, and I could tell that something was damaged. “Ohhh, yep. I’m going to have to replace your whole arm. So, I’m going to detach it now and replace it with a new one I have in my bag. I’ll make it quick.”

I located the unlocking mechanism on his right shoulder and reached into my bag, pulling out and opening up the toolset. My eyes scanned over every single one until I found the tool I was looking for. It was made to unlock and unclip the joints in android limbs. Pulling it out, I let go of Micheal’s hand, placing both hands on his shoulder. “I’m going to need you to lay your hand relaxed at your side, straight. Once I unclip your shoulder from your torso, you’ll feel a sudden jerk. Just letting you know so you don’t get startled by the sudden pull.”

“Okay.” He replied. I could tell he was calming down much more than he was earlier. Curling the end of the tool underneath the lock, I gave it a quick jerk and felt Micheal flinch slightly, his LED indicator flashing red for a moment before returning to yellow. 

It unclicked with a satisfying sound and I put the tool down, grabbed his arm with both hands and looked at Micheal. “On the count of three, I’m going to pull your arm free, okay?” I assured him.

He nodded.

I started counting. “One, two, three!” It came off easily without a hitch. As I held it, Micheal’s LED began spinning red again as he looked at his arm. I noted the panic on his face and put my hand on his shoulder to bring him back to focusing on me. “Don’t worry, I have another arm ready for you. It’s for the same model, so it’ll be compatible. And getting it on will be much easier and smoother than removing it.”

I rummaged into my bag and found the right arm. It glinted with brand new quality to it. I removed it from its packaging and easily lined it up with its socket and clicked it in place. It slid in perfectly and the locks clamped around it comfortably. “Alright, that’s your right arm done. Can you please run a diagnostics check on your arm to make sure it’s working right, Micheal?” I asked him.

He nodded, his arm flexing. He flexed his fingers and moved his arm in several ways, making sure it was working properly. His skin was starting to slick over the rest of his arm, and it blended seamlessly with the rest of him. I nodded with a smile. “Good as new!” I praised. I moved over to his left, having finished with his right. “Now I have to check your other arm. I doubt I’ll have to replace the whole thing, so it should be quicker to deal with.”

He nodded. “Okay.” 

Micheal nodded.

I started walking around to his other side, examining his left arm. I noticed that I didn’t have to ask him to deskin his arm this time and that he already grabbed my hand. I took it as a sign that he had relaxed around me and that he was no longer afraid of me. His arm wasn’t nearly as damaged as the other one, and his upper arm wasn’t even touched. All that there seemed to be were the burn marks that broke through to the plastic part. I grimaced in disgust when I realized that they were burns from cigarettes being put out on him, the same marks of which I saw on his face. “Your master really was scum, wasn’t he?”

Micheal tensed up when I said that, but he didn’t hesitate to talk. “He tortured me every day..." He admitted. Finally, the confession part of this “interrogation.”  “I did whatever he told me, but there was always something wrong...Then one day...He took a bat and started hitting me...For the first time, I felt scared...Scared he might destroy me, scared I might die..." 

I winced. I didn’t care if androids didn’t feel pain, they could certainly feel fear. And even if they couldn’t feel physical pain, they could feel emotional pain.

And I knew damn well how real and lasting emotional pain was. “I grew up with friends with parents like that.” I sympathized. “Their parents used to treat them the same way. Sometimes physical. Things from beatings to worse things. But it was usually things that destroyed their senses of self. Making them feel worthless. Forcing them to hide who they really were because if their families knew, my friends would be forced to live on the streets alone.” I snarled. “And all I could do was stay quiet while they suffered.”

He seemed to be confused at my response. “Why?”

“What do you mean?” I asked him, briefly forgetting my train of thought.

“Why did you stay quiet?” He clarified. “If you knew that it wasn’t fair for them to be treated that way, why did you stay quiet?”

I sighed. It was a fair question, and perhaps my answer would help him understand a few things about himself. “Because my friends asked me to hold my tongue, as it were.” I answered him. “And it’s unfortunately not that simple. Nothing exists in a vacuum. If I spoke out, there would have been consequences, and those consequences would’ve been taken out on my friends. And...I couldn’t do that to them. So the best I could do was be there for them. To help them while they survived each day.”

I could tell that he didn’t quite seem to understand, so I just went about working on his arm. I didn’t have to let him know what I was doing as I grabbed my tool again and this time slid it under the elbow joint lock. “I...grabbed the knife and I stabbed him in the stomach..." It was strange not to react much to that. Well, I didn’t have to work hard for this confession. “I felt better...so I stabbed him again and again!...until he collapsed...There was blood everywhere.” 

“Can’t say I blame you. Can’t tell you how many times I’ve wanted to do that to some piece of shit. And trust me, I’ve had to deal with several.” I felt something tugging at my brain. Something I was forgetting. “What was I saying before?” I asked. “Before I was fixing your right arm?” Before he could reply, my thoughts caught up to me again. “Right! Why I’m being nice to you.” 

Micheal nodded at me, pushing me to keep going. 

“Well, for starters, I see a lot of myself in both androids and especially deviants.” I quickly jerked the lock and took his forearm off. “I’m not like others of my kind, either. But like you, I’m not the only one. I have defects in my program, to put it in terms you’d understand.” I began explaining as I leaned forward to retrieve the other arm in the bag and detached the forearm from it as well. “I have depression, anxiety, Apsperger’s Syndrome, and ADHD. These certain mental conditions impede my ability to do certain tasks. My Autism impeding my ability to communicate effectively with others and makes understanding others difficult.” 

I quickly clicked the new forearm into Micheal’s arm, it sliding into place effectively. “Things that make me rather strange and odd to other humans. There are other humans like me, just as there are other deviants like you. But to people who can identify what I am and figure me out, not a lot of people care too much, but there are some people who treat me the way they treat you. Like nothing. Like I’m less than human. Like I’m just a defect and that I deserve to be destroyed. But at least in regards to my ADHD and my Autism, these aren’t things that really negatively impede my life. Sure, they come with disadvantages, but they also come with a lot of unique advantages as well. Depression and anxiety, on the other hand, have made my life a lot worse than it needed to be, which is why I had to get treated for them.” 

He was flexing his hand as the skin peeled over it again. “I’m afraid I can’t really do anything about the marks he put in your face, but I think I did a pretty good job fixing you up, Micheal.” Noticing the bottle of thirium I had placed a distance from him, I slid it towards him. “Drink it. You’ve lost some thirium and you’ll need to replenish it. And now, you don’t have to worry about bleeding out.”

He hesitantly took the bottle and started to down the blue blood. As I returned to my seat across from him, he looked towards me, his LED finally turning back to blue for the first time since I laid eyes on him. “Thank you...for all this.”

I nodded. “Of course.” I said to him. I glanced at both of his arms. “You know, now that your arms are working and are brand new, maybe you could try something for me?” He looked at me skeptically. “Do you want to try drawing?”

He blinked in surprise. “I...I guess I could try.” He said sheepishly. “I’ve never drawn before. But I did make a small statue.”

“Really?” I asked him, smiling at him. “I used to sculpt with clay, when I was younger. The kind that gets all over your hands and dries and has to be put in a kiln to bake.” I started to go on. “I didn’t really like how it dried on my hands or how it got under my nails. I preferred modeling clay. It’s more like plasticine. It’s a lot easier and cleaner to work with for me. I haven’t sculpted in a long time.”

He actually gave me the first smile I’ve ever seen on him. Despite his blood-stained clothes and face, I felt completely comfortable around Micheal. “I can try to draw it for you, if you want to see.”

I smiled at him. “I’d like that.” I dug around in my handbag and pulled out my personal sketchpad. I tore out a page and handed him both it and a pencil. “And, if you don’t mind, I want to draw you, too.”

He gave me a patient smile and went to work drawing. I took note of all his features and began sketching the simple shapes and curves. The basic structure of his face. I wasn’t exactly a master artist, but I never passed up an opportunity to practice. Once I got a basic shape done, I began sketching in the finer details. His eyebrows, eyes, ears, and the strange inconsistencies in his buzzed hair. But the thing I wanted to capture the most was the joyous light that was now abundant in his eyes and the smile on his face. I wanted to immortalize it while it lasted.

After a little while, I decided I was done, and showed it to him. “I’m sorry if I’m not as skilled as you were expecting, I’m not exactly a professional sketch artist.” I apologized, handing it to him. “But I hope you like it.”

His eyes scanned over it, his LED flashing back to the yellow it was when I first met him. “I’m smiling.” He said, laughing a little. “You made me smile.”

I snickered a little at him. “No I didn’t, you were already smiling.” I pointed out. “You’re smiling right now!”

He touched his cheeks, as if he had to physically check to see if I was right. But he couldn’t stop smiling, almost catching himself. It was honestly adorable and endearing and I couldn’t help the little flutter of happiness that erupted in my stomach. He then handed me his paper. I widened my eyes in surprise and adjusted my glasses. “I see the little statue you drew.” I said, but I was looking at the other thing he drew. He drew me. I was sitting in a position with my left shoulder turned towards the metaphorical observer, my head tilted in an endearing manner with a crooked dimpled smile. “And you drew me. You made me look so pretty.”

He laughed softly. “You can keep that, if you want.”

I looked at my drawing of him and leaned over. “Here.” I said. I took the sketchpad and the pencils and ripped my drawing out and gave it to Micheal. “You can keep mine.”

He looked as though he was going to refuse before he tentatively took it from me. “Thank you, Rachel.” He said graciously. “I’ve never been given anything like this.”

I shook my head. “Don’t worry about it. I know how important it is to have belongings, so that’s yours now.”

He looked at me confused, his LED flickering yellow again. “What do you mean?” He asked.

I simply shrugged. “Well, when you have something that’s yours,” I started off. “Something that you can touch and see, something you’ve made, something made for you or given to you, something you’ve gotten for yourself, something that’s yours is very important. Because belongings have sentimental value. They mean something to you. And having something physical that’s yours makes you feel more like your own person. More grounded in your sense of self.” 

I tugged on my sweater, pulling it closer to me. “Take my hoodie, for instance.” It was a large dark zip-up sweater, clearly much too big for me, as the sleeves extended way past my arms and the bottom covered a large percentage of my thighs. It was a thick striped sweater of dark shades of brown-tinted greys, and it had large pockets. It was clearly worn for a very long time, but well kept. “It’s pretty obvious to see that it’s way too big for me. But...it’s something very important to me. Something very sentimental.” I felt my throat get tight, the memories surrounding the sweater resurfacing in my mind as I tried to choke them down. “It was given to me by someone very important to me. I’ve worn it for years. It’s one of the few things I have left to remember them by.”

I could feel tears threatening to well up and I tried to blink them away, even as I felt my throat tighten. Micheal seemed to sense my distress and put a hand on mine. “I’m so sorry.” He said softly. 

I looked up into his brown eyes and could see the sympathy in his eyes. I didn’t care what people said about androids or deviants. Micheal could feel, and I knew it. “I appreciate your condolences.”

As much as I wished I could keep him here, safe and without worry, I couldn’t keep this up. And since I was only passively familiar with this case, there weren’t any more questions I could ask him. With the most difficult control I could muster, I got up from my seat. “I should go.” I said, looking at Micheal.

He looked as though he was going to cling to me and not let me go, but let me slip out of his hands. But just as I had tidied up my bag of supplies and slung it over my shoulder, I felt him grab my hand again. “Wait!” He cried.

I looked at him expectantly. “Yes, Micheal?” I asked him.

“What...what are they gonna do to me?” It seemed as though the words were caught in his throat. “They're gonna destroy me, aren't they?”

His fear was palpable, but...one of my worst vices was that I was a terrible liar. “I don’t exactly know what CyberLife procedure is...but it’s likely.” I replied.

“I don’t wanna die. I’m scared to die. I,” he looked up at me, his LED spinning red. “I’m not gonna die, right? Promise me I won’t die.”

I felt my chest tighten. I desperately wanted to help him, but realistically speaking, there was little I could do for him. I furrowed my brows together in determination. But damn it, I might as well try my hardest. “Not if I can help it.” I said firmly. I then gestured to the glass next to me. “But cooperate with them, and there’s a higher chance that you won’t.”

He nodded. “Thank you, Rachel.” He said, a bitter smile on his stained face. “For everything.”

Giving him one last nod, I walked away and exited the room, my bag of equipment slung over my shoulder.

--------

Connor observed the scene before him and couldn’t help but feel astounded. In the span of approximately fifteen minutes, Rachel had successfully built a rapport with Micheal and got it to confess without pressuring it.

But it was only a partial confession. There were things that Connor needed to know and understand, but couldn’t until he was the one asking questions.

Rachel reentered the room, dropping the bag on the floor and placing the deviant’s damaged arms on the ground beside it. “Well, I did what I could.” She lamented with a shrug, smirking at Gavin. “Was that enough to convince you, ye of little faith?”

“You got lucky.” He said, clearly not wanting to admit that he was somewhat impressed by Rachel. “Don’t think of this as anything else than a fluke.”

“Uh-huh.” Rachel replied snarkily, unfazed by Gavin. “Yeah, you keep telling yourself whatever you need to tell yourself, bud.”

“You got it to talk way more than I could. There’s something to be said for that.” Hank offered with a nonchalant shrug. “So, what now?”

Software Instability ^ Connor then felt Rachel elbow him in a friendly manner. “Well, you haven’t gotten to show off your interrogation skills, yet.” She suggested encouragingly. “Though, I did warm him up for you. You’re welcome.”

Connor noticed the indication for an increase in his software instability pop up. Which was strange since he didn’t do anything that would have triggered it. Dismissing his brief concerns, he nodded, looking over to Hank for his input. “I can certainly try questioning it now, Lieutenant.”

Hank simply waved at Connor, giving him the go ahead. “Go ahead, suspect's all yours.”

Hank nodded, leaving the room and turning the corner to enter the interrogation room. Looking down at the deviant, it was at least responsive, making eye contact with Connor. As the detective approached, he looked at the file on the table, opening to look at the photos.

Taking a seat where Rachel once sat, Connor sat across from the deviant, Micheal. Taking the opportunity to properly analyze it, Connor catalogued a few important details.

Processing LED: Signs of software instability Probability of self-destruction: Low

Model HK400 - Housekeeper Manufacture date: 05/09/2030 Property of: Carlos Ortiz

Dried Blood DNA Analysis: Ortiz, Carlos Sample date: 19 days old

Once Connor had taken in every detail he could, he formulated the best approach. However, Rachel’s grown rapport with Micheal was what was at the forefront of his program at the moment.

Software Instability ^ So, deciding to follow in her stead, Connor decided to approach in a similar direction.

[Fear] 🔓

[Show Photos] 🔓

[Wounds] 🔓

Name

“Micheal.” Connor started, causing the deviant to direct its attention towards Connor. “My name is Connor.”

Comfort

Reassure

Threaten

Blame

“I'm not going to hurt you.” Connor reassured Micheal. “I just need to ask you some questions, so we can understand what happened.” Micheal still wouldn’t talk to Connor. Perhaps a more harsher prod would be necessary.

Sympathize

Threaten

Probe Memory

Trust

“If you won't talk, I'm going to have to probe your memory.” He threatened.

“NO!” Micheal whimpered, its LED spinning red before slowly turning back to yellow. “No, please don't do that!” The deviant then glanced over at the mirror, no doubt thinking of the lieutenant and of Rachel watching it behind there. It then looked back at Connor, its eyes pleading. “Why did you tell them you found me?” It asked. "Why couldn't you just have left me there?”

Lie

Truth

“I was programmed to hunt deviants like you.” Connor admitted. “I just accomplished my mission.”

Micheal seemed unnerved and fearful. “I don’t wanna die.”

Connor, wanting nothing more than to get answers, pleaded with Micheal. “Then talk to me.”

“I...I..." Micheal seemed to hesitate, looking wide-eyed at Connor before it glanced down at the paper in its hand. The drawing of it given to him by Rachel. Taking a breath, it looked Connor in the eye and nodded reluctantly. “Okay. I’ll talk.” Rachel - Warm ^ Hank - Warm ^

[Writing] 🔓

[Statuette] 🔓

[rA9] 🔓

Attic

“Why did you write ‘I AM ALIVE’ on the wall?” Connor asked, leaning forward.

“He used to tell me I was nothing...That I was just a piece of plastic..." Micheal lamented. “I had to write it...To tell him he was wrong..."

[Statuette] 🔓

[rA9] 🔓

Attic

Trigger?

“The sculpture in the bathroom, you made it, right?” Connor asked. “What does it represent?”

“It's an offering..." Micheal answered. “An offering so I'll be saved..."

[Offering] 🔓

[rA9] 🔓

Attic

Trigger?

“The sculpture was an offering..." Connor echoed. “An offering to whom?”

“To rA9..." Micheal replied, pleadingly. “Only rA9 can save us.”

[rA9] 🔓

Attic

Trigger?

“rA9... It was written on the bathroom wall.” Connor pointed out, connecting the dots. “What does it mean?”

“The day shall come when we will no longer be slaves..." Micheal whispered cryptically. “No more threats, no more humiliation..." It continued, its eyes boring into Connor’s. “We will...be...the masters.”

[Insist rA9] 🔓

Attic

Trigger?

“rA9,” Connor repeated, growing frustrated with the lack of concrete information on this mysterious entity. “Who is rA9?”

Micheal did not answer this time. Either because it refused to, or because it didn’t have one.

Attic

Trigger?

“When did you start feeling emotion?” Connor asked, wanting to know what the cause of this android’s deviancy was.

“Before, he used to beat me and I never said anything..." Micheal explained, its gaze hardening. “But one day I realized it wasn't fair!” It growled that last word. “I felt...anger. Hatred...And then I knew what I had to do.”

Attic

There was only one question left for Connor to ask. “Why did you hide in the attic instead of running away?”

“I didn't know what to do..." Micheal admitted meekly.  “For the first time, there was no one there to tell me..." Micheal seemed extremely timid now. “I was scared...So I hid.”

Extract Confession

Connor then turned towards the mirror, speaking directly to the police inside. “I’m done.”

Leave Interrogation Room

As Micheal sat there, trembling and twitching, Connor got up from his seat, making his way towards the exit of the room.

Opening the door, Chris and Gavin made their way inside, Rachel and Hank followed behind. “Chris, lock it up.” Gavin ordered.

Chris then uncuffed Micheal as Rachel stood beside Connor. He then reached to grab Micheal to take it out of the room. “All right, let's go.”

“Leave me alone!” Micheal whimpered, its stress levels rising dangerously. “Don't touch me!”

Chris tried once again to grab it, only for Micheal to continue to struggle and whimper. “The fuck are you doing?” Gavin asked irritably. “Move it!”

[Give Up]

[Intervene]

“Okay, come now.” Chris grumbled, trying once again to move Micheal. “Don't be difficult, it'll only make things harder!”

“You shouldn't touch it.” Connor warned Chris. “It'll self-destruct if it feels threatened.”

“Stay outta this, got it?” Gavin threatened Connor. “No fuckin' android is gonna tell me what to do.”

[Give Up]

[Intervene]

“Hey! Cool it!” Rachel said, stepping towards Chris and Micheal. “He’s scared! Lay off!”

“You don't understand.” Connor warned again. “If it self-destructs, we won't get anything out of it!”

“I told you to shut your fuckin' mouth!” Gavin shouted at Connor.

“NO!” Micheal yelped, its stress continuing to climb to dangerous levels. “No, don't touch me!”

“Hey, back off, Gavin!” Rachel snapped at Gavin, shouldering herself between Gavin and Chris. “Just leave him alone! He’s scared and he doesn’t wanna be fucking touched!” 

“You stay out of this, Rachel!” Gavin snapped at her, getting in her face.

“Like Hell, I will!” It seemed that Rachel had finally snapped, as she grabbed Gavin by the throat and shoved him against the mirror, pointing at Micheal. 

“Let go of me!” Gavin snarled at Rachel.

Software Instability ^ “Look at him! He’s fucking terrified!” She started shouting at him, harshly forcing his face in Micheal’s direction, even causing Chris to give pause. “You look at him and you tell me how his fear is any different than ours! Look at him and tell me what difference you see!”

Gavin then shoved Rachel off her, breaking her grip, but she was not a woman who was about to back down as she got up in his face. But Gavin simply ignored her, ordering Chris again. “Chris, gonna move this asshole or what?”

“I'm trying!” Chris huffed, once again trying to move Micheal.

[Give Up]

[Intervene]

“Please, please leave me alone!” Micheal begged, pleading with the humans.

Rachel - Warm ^ “I can't let you do that!” Connor snapped. He had had enough and was immediately stepping forward to physically intervene. He pulled Chris off of Micheal, facing Gavin head-on. “Leave it alone, now!”

Gavin immediately pulled a gun on Connor, threatening him. “I warned you, motherfucker!”

Software Instability ^ Immediately, Rachel put herself between Connor and Gavin, staring her fellow detective down. “Back off!” She snarled at him.

Gavin laughed in her face. “You’re really gonna protect this fuckin’ tin can?” He mocked. “I didn’t realize you were already so into him!”

“You really don’t wanna do this, Gavin.” She warned him. “Touch him and you’ll be on the ground faster than you can fucking blink!”

“You don’t scare me, Rachel.” Gavin growled.

Hank - Warm ^ “That's enough!” Hank warned him.

“Mind your own business, Hank.” Gavin warned the lieutenant, not taking his eyes off the pair.

“I said ‘That's enough.’” Hank threatened once again, pulling his own gun on Gavin.

Looking between Connor and Hank, Gavin’s grip tightened on his gun before he finally relented. “Fuck.” He spat, enunciating the curse in a strange way that sounded more like a sneeze rather than a swear. He then glared at Hank, pointing at him. “You're not gonna get away with it this time.” Taking one last look between Connor and Rachel, he marched out of the room in frustration. “Fuck!”

Once Gavin had left, Hank put his gun away and it was just the four of them in the room. Rachel moved to approach Micheal before Connor stepped forward past her, kneeling down and reassuring the deviant. “Everything is alright. It's over now.” He spoke softly, noticing its stress levels gone down significantly. “Nobody is gonna hurt you.” Connor then stood back up on his feet, addressing Chris. “Please, don't touch it.” He instructed. “Let it follow you out of the room and it won't cause any trouble.”

Micheal got itself off the floor and reached to grab the drawing Rachel had given him. It then walked slowly past Connor and her, glancing between them. “The truth is inside.”

Software Instability ^ Once it followed Chris out of the interrogation room, it was just Connor, Hank, and Rachel left in the room. Rachel shook her head, leaning on Connor. “Well, that wasn’t cryptic at all.” She said ironically, making the tense air in the room loosen slightly. “But, all things considered, I think that went pretty well.”

Hank - Warm ^ “Yeah, it definitely could’ve been a lot worse.” Hank agreed, glancing between her and Connor. “Good work, you two.”

“Thanks, Hank.” Rachel said appreciatively, her hands behind her back. She grinned rather confidently at him. “Told you treating him like a person would work.”

“Yeah, whatever.” He waved her off as he turned around and started to head out. “I’m headed home. Goodnight, Rachel.”

“Woah, woah, woah! Hold it right there!” She scolded, marching up to stop Hank before he could leave. “You’re not off the hook!”

Hank rolled his head with an annoyed groan. “What?” He asked exasperatedly. “What is it this time?”

“Chris told me that you were at Jimmy’s Bar drinking and that you drove to the crime scene and then to the station!” She continued scolding him. “What have I told you about drinking and driving, Hank? If I ever caught you doing it again, I would taser you! Again!”

“Which is precisely why I didn’t fuckin’ tell ya!” Hank snapped back.

“This is serious, Hank!” Rachel continued reprimanding him. “I could have you arrested for not just one count, but two counts for DUI since I caught you doing it once before!”

“So do it, then!” Hank shouted, throwing his arms up. “I don’t care!”

“You know that line doesn’t work on me because I’m obviously not going to do that!” She then turned to Connor, her dark intense eyes boring into him in a way he couldn’t quite define that made his synthetic skin feel as though it was peeling. And he made certain to check that it wasn’t when he realized it. “Connor, was Hank drunk when you found him?”

Truth

Lie

Hank - Warm v “Yes.” Connor answered. “Though, I wasn’t sure exactly how many drinks he’d had when I found him. I did buy him another for the road.”

“Can you drive?” She asked him pointedly.

“Yes.” He answered immediately. “I’m capable of driving both automatic and standard transmission road vehicles.”

Rachel - Warm v “Then why didn’t you drive him?!” Rachel scolded Connor.

Justify

Apologize

Explain

Connor, realizing that he had made an error in judgement, took Rachel’s ire into consideration. “You’re right.” He relented. “I wasn’t thinking about the lieutenant’s condition and I irresponsibly put his safety at risk. I’m sorry, I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

Rachel - Warm ^ She then put her hands together flat-palmed and sighed at him. “Thank you.” Rachel breathed. “I appreciate that.”

“For fuck’s sake..." Hank grumbled under his breath.

“And as for you.” Rachel hissed, whipping back around to face Hank. “You’re taking a taxi home and I’m paying you for it in the morning.”

“I don’t need -”

“That’s an order, Lieutenant!” Rachel asserted, glaring him down. “I’ll pick you up for work in the morning with my car. Just get home safely and stop fucking doing this! I’m not having you die doing something stupid and irresponsible. If you die, you’d better die doing something cool.”

Hank, seeming to give into Rachel’s demands, put a hand on her shoulder. “Alright, fine.” He begrudgingly agreed. “If it’ll get you off my damn back.”

“Good, I’ll see you tomorrow morning, then.” She said, her stern tone softening. “Goodnight, Hank.”

“Night, Rachel.” He said, turning around and walking down the hall.

“I swear, he never fucking learns.” Rachel shook her head and approached Connor, letting out a tired sigh. As she approached the android, her rich dark eyes were clouded with concern. “Are you alright, Connor?”

Software Instability  ^ “I’m fine, you needn’t concern yourself with me, although it is appreciated.” He replied, giving her a small reassuring smile in an effort to ease her nerves. A simple scan revealed that her heart rate was still higher than normal and that she was trembling slightly. “However, I feel as though you should be more concerned about yourself. I’ve detected an abnormality in your heart rate and increased adrenaline causing visible tremors in your limbs.”

She briefly widened her eyes in surprise before she quickly brushed it off. “Oh, don’t worry about that. That’s just my anxiety, I’ve dealt with that my whole life. It’s nothing new. But, um, thanks for checking on me?”

“Of course.” Connor assured her. “I want to make sure you’re unharmed.”

Hank

Androids

Deviant

Protect?

“Why did you put yourself between Detective Reed and I?” Connor asked Rachel. “That could’ve been extremely dangerous for you.”

Software Instability ^ She seemed flabbergasted that he would even ask that. “Because Gavin was threatening you at gunpoint!” Rachel said as though the answer was supposed to be obvious. “And he obviously wasn’t going to just fucking shoot me. The only reason he threatened you in particular is because he stupidly thought he could get away with that without suffering any consequences.”

Connor raised his eyebrows at that remark. “Even if he did shoot me, he would’ve had to pay CyberLife for the damages.” He informed her. “And I feel as though you should know that I’m worth a small fortune.”

Software Instability ^ Rachel blinked curiously at him as she cocked one of her own at him. “Really?” She asked indignantly. “You sure? ‘Cause you look pretty priceless to me, dollface.”

Connor was briefly taken aback by her brazen comment towards him. He simply stared at her curiously before he noticed her eyes squint as she focused more closely on his face. Before he could comment, she reached out with her hands to grab his face and gently massage his cheeks with them. As Connor quickly dismissed the gesture as a non threat, he couldn’t help but notice how small and delicate her hands were as they worked into his skin. “What are you doing?” He asked, confused and feeling inclined to comment on her strange behaviour.

Software Instability ^ Rachel seemed to realize her faux pas and quickly retracted her hands, her capillaries brightening to a rose tint as she looked away from him, shame tracing her soft facial features. “Oh! Shit, sorry!” She hastily apologized. There was something about how meek and embarrassed she quickly became that made a strange unfamiliar sensation prick at Connor. “That’s one of my problems, I tend to act before I think and it tends to get me into trouble. I was just curious about how android skin feels, and wow I was not expecting it to be so lifelike!” She suddenly seemed to completely forget about any shame or embarrassment there might’ve been at that moment and had been completely overtaken by what seemed to be an innocent fascination with the android. “I mean, I knew it wasn’t plastic, obviously, but I figured it would feel more like silicon, since it’s the most commonly used for body modifications and replicas. But no, it’s almost identical to human skin. I mean, I knew it couldn’t be silicon, because androids can peel back their own skins and heal their injuries after their biocomponents are repaired or replaced, and silicon very obviously can’t do that. There’s just so much about androids that’s absolutely fascinating to me especially about how they’re built and made.”

Connor cocked his head at her, perplexed by her. Indeed, Rachel was a rather fascinating character, much like the lieutenant.

Hank

Androids

Deviant

“Have you never interacted personally with an android?” He asked her.

She just gave him a nonchalant shrug. “Aside from the ones sitting behind desks or standing behind cash registers, no.” Rachel answered plainly. “I don’t even interact with the android officers we have here. Never really needed to. And I never owned my own.”

“Why’s that?” He asked, curious to hear her answer.

“I just don’t like the idea of buying and owning something that looks and acts so human. It’s a bit too Uncanny Valley for me.” She paused, furrowing her brows at him. “You do know what the Uncanny Valley phenomenon is, right?”

The android nodded. “It describes the emotional response in humans to an aesthetic.” He began to explain. “It’s a hypothesized relationship between the degree of an object’s resemblance to a human being and the emotional response elicited from humans towards it. Humans are typically disturbed by something that looks human enough to be recognizable as humanlike, but are not quite human. It’s that area between something inhuman and something completely human where humans tend to react with revulsion. It’s why CyberLife has devoted so much time and resources into making androids as close visually to humans as well as making them behave as closely to humans as possible without straying from the purposes they’re programmed for.”

“Right, you definitely get it.” Rachel nodded. 

Connor felt as though he should probably go, but something strangely kept him rooted here. He wanted to hear everything Rachel had to say. 

Hank

Deviant

“You seem to have a rather familiar relationship with Lieutenant Anderson.” Connor remarked. “Have you known him for very long?”

“Not really.” Rachel answered casually. “I haven’t exactly been here for a long time, at least not as long as everyone else. And we really only started talking when I had just made detective. But ever since then, we’ve been pretty good friends.” Connor nodded, her explanation making sense to him. “So, you and Hank have both been assigned to the deviancy case, then?” She then suddenly asked.

“Indeed.” He answered simply. “My mission is to discover the reason why more and more androids are becoming deviant, and Lieutenant Anderson is my partner until my mission is complete.”

“I see.” I replied. “So, you’re not Hank’s android, then. You’re just assigned to him until you’re done. By CyberLife, I’m guessing.”

He nodded. “Correct.”

“So, what are you planning to do in the meantime?” She asked him. “I mean, because Hank’s never exactly been the most consistent when it came to his work schedule. And I doubt he’ll just let you crash at his place.”

“I’ll be taking a taxi to CyberLife.” Connor replied. “So that I can be properly calibrated and have manual diagnostics run on me before I depart on my next mission.”

“Ah, I see.” Rachel said nonchalantly. “That makes sense.”

Deviant

Rachel - Warm ^ “Interesting approach with the deviant.” Connor praised. He had to admit that Rachel’s method of extrapolating an initial confession out of Micheal was effective. He now understood what Lieutenant Anderson meant when he said that Rachel’s hyperempathy - a term Connor discovered by cross-referencing what Hank described and Rachel mentioning she had both Asperger’s Syndrome and Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder with a search he quickly conducted - had its advantages. “Admittedly, I was skeptical at first due to Lieutenant Anderson’s lack of results when he initially tried questioning it.”

“That’s because you all approach this like cops. Like detectives.” Rachel scoffed, a smirk on her face. “I get that you’re basically programmed to be an android detective, so I at least get you. But everyone else? If you limit yourself to one role and act and think only from that perspective, you severely limit your options and thus leave out huge lists of possible solutions. I’m a detective, too. But I’m also known for thinking outside of the box.”

Connor nodded. “Well, clearly it proved to be effective.”

Software Instability ^ Rachel blinked a few times at him, glancing away from him. “Well...thank you. I appreciate the compliment.” She swallowed, looking back up at Connor curiously. “You should probably be heading out, then. I myself should probably head home right about now, it’s like one in the morning.” She then gave him a genuine smile. “But...it’s been fun chatting with you.”

“Indeed.” Connor agreed. “I enjoyed talking with you. You have a very introspective and insightful perspective that I find incredibly intriguing.”

Software Instability ^ Rachel chuckled, the smile on her face seeming to be involuntary. “Anyways, I should probably head home.” She said, making her way towards the exit. “A pleasure meeting you, Connor.”

“Likewise.” He said pleasantly, watching her walk away.

She then glanced back at him as she lingered in the doorway. “Will I be seeing you tomorrow in the station?” She asked him.

Connor nodded. “Most likely.”

Software Instability ^ Rachel then gave him another genuine smile. “Then I look forward to seeing you.”

“And I you, Detective.” Connor replied in kind.

“You don’t have to call me that.” She corrected him. “You can just call me Rachel, I don’t mind you using my first name.”

Connor nodded, returning her smile with his own. “In that case, I’ll see you tomorrow, Rachel.”

Her dark eyes glittered with excitement when he said that. “See you tomorrow, Connor.”

Just as she was about to leave, Connor remembered her curiosity about his skin and felt the need to educate her on it. “It’s a synthetic fluid.”

Rachel stopped as she turned to face him again, visible confusion on her soft round face. “Huh?”

“Android skin.” He clarified. “It’s a synthetic ferrofluid that spreads over an android’s body that is also combined with manipulative silicon and magnetic plasticine that is controlled by the android. Our biocomponents can manipulate the skin and control where it’s skinned onto because of its specialized magnetic properties. Everything is specifically designed to feel as close to human skin as possible, particularly in the cases of androids that are bought and sold into red light districts and industries.”

Rachel - Warm ^ She was seeming to take all this information in, filing it away into her vast and expansive brain. “Huh. That makes a lot of sense!” Rachel said, having brought her hand to her chin as she processed it. Looking back at Connor, her expression softened once more. “Well, Goodnight, Connor.”

Software Instability ^ “Goodnight, Rachel.” Connor replied in kind.

And in a second, she had disappeared down the hall, likely on her way home.

And as Connor stood in the interrogation room all alone, the hum of the fluorescent lights above him and the whirrs and audible processes of the tech surrounding him occupied his passive attention, there was one curious thought that was becoming ever apparent to the android.

Software Instability ^ He had noticed a significant spike in his software instability, and many of those instances were just from Rachel’s smile alone.

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

Next Chapter

[d31m1]

Blushing - Remus Lupin x Reader

Pairing: Remus Lupin x Reader

Request: Prompt List.

26- "Here (y/n), come join our game of truth or dare."

1- "I'm in love with you."

Warnings: none just fluff

Word count: 1.3k

A/N: sorry it took me about long but hope you like it! @polishpotterhead

It was your sixth year at Hogwarts and you were walking back into the Gryffindor common room with your friend Dorcas Meadows, a lovely girl that had raven black hair that touched her waist and gleamed in the day as sun touched it. While you walked through the portrait you didn't expect to be shouted at as soon as you stepped foot on the other side, especially not by infamous Sirius Black who was sat with his group of Marauder friends which was James Potter, Peter PETTIGREW and none other than your long time crush Remus Lupin.

"Here (y/n), come join or game of truth and dare!"

You had, had a crush on Remus ever since third year roughly when he defended a defenceless first year from a group of Slytherins, standing In front of the little boy and ever since then you just can't seem to shake him out of your mind!

It wasn't also like you were one of those girls that became weird around him, you were the opposite to be fair, you were confident and loved watching him blush and shift uncomfortably as you got that little bit too close or that little bit of effort you put in on the mornings for the days you knew would be spent with Remus in class.

So when Sirius offered you and Dorcas to join them you instantly said yes and walked over to the group and high fiving you as you walked past him to take a seat in-between Remus and James, considerably closer to Remus than James. And this wasn’t going unnoticed as every time you shifted a little bit to get more comfortable, Remus blushed a deep Scarlett colour as he literally felt the heat radiate off your body on to his and how he could hear your calm breaths. Just as you sat down Lily and Marlene walked past as well and you shouted for them to join in too which lily replied, "only because you asked (y/n)." As she sat down across from James so he couldn't touch her.

"Right, I'll go first!" Sirius announced, "Marlene truth or dare?" He was smirking at Marlene knowing fine well she would do about anything and it was most likely going to be a dare. "Black do you even have to ask?" She said as if it was obvious (which it was)

"Okay Mrs I don't give a shit, I dare you to kiss Lily Flower on the lips." He said as soon as she had answered as if this had been on his mind for a long time.

Lily and Marlene looked passive at Sirius as if he had thought they wouldn't do it for some reason as he sat still smirking at the two, that was until lily put him back in his place when she retorted, "Sirius you do realise I am an activist for LGBQ rights yeah? I literally was at the pride march on our summer holidays." And let say it did exactly that, you could never remember a time when Sirius had closed his mouth as quickly and sat up straighter on attention as Lily and Marlene leaned forward and kissed each other for a good minute in the middle of the circle, leaving a very bashful James Potter sat beside Marlene.

A few of the dates included you a d Sirius swapping all of your clothes including your bra which you had the girls covering you as you slipped Sirius tight black t-shirt on with his cord jeans and he wore your stripped yellow crop top and blue denim dungarees which totally brought a laugh to the circle.

Peter and James had been handcuffed and tried to ride a broomstick each, which would of ended up in a trip to the hospital wing if lily and Remus hadn't been thinking on there toes and accio'ed all of the cushions underneath them as they fell.

Remus and Dorcas had been made to race to see how could get up the respected staircases which just ended up with them both in there asses and out of breath.

Finally it was Dorcas turn to truth or dare someone and she went straight for the heaving Remus that was sat next to you clothing his side which you presumed had a stich. "Remus, truth or dare?" She asked and he replied with holding up a finger to her telling her he needed a minute, after he appeared to be back to normal he replied, "Dare I suppose." Bad choice buddy you thought in your head as you knew what was coming.

"Oh Remi, Remi, Remi, I dare you to kiss the prettiest person in the circle." She said slowly and emphasized the word circle. As soon as the word left Dorcas mouth you noticed two things, Remus face turning bright red and the start of sweat forming on his brow and that Sirius had puckered his lips and closed his eyes.

But what you didn't notice for once was Remus glances at you as he neared towards your face until you turned away from stating at Sirius to almost meeting Remus in a head collision, "em yeah- I - uh think your -really – you know pretty so - I'm I've got to -you know kiss you." He stuttered over his words and you felt bad for him seeing him this nervous you leaned forward and placed your lips on his which was the most amazing feeling you had felt, as his lips were soft and plump but still had that little bit of dry skin and how he was gentle but firm because this kiss held so much pent up sexual tension but he was still not trying to scare you away. You could of stayed like that forever with your hands on his cheeks feeling the slight bumps of scars that littered his face and his hand on your waist until Sirius Black opened his eyes and was shocked and hurt by the sight of Remus kissing you and not him as he was certain he was the prettiest person in the whole damn school.

"Excuse me, Remus. But I think you should be kiss me instead because I'm the prettiest person." And you could help but burst out laughing as you could just imagine his hurt little puppy pout.

After another couple round you had all decided to go to bed and call it a night and you were at the bottom of the steps to the girls rooms when Remus called out for you, "(y/n) wait up! Can I speak to you please?" He was wringing his hands nervously you could tell and shifting his weight from one foot to the other every so often.

"What's up Remi?" You asked him as you slightly jogged up to him and halted just before him .

"I'm I was just hoping I could speak to you about that kiss because," and he paused obviously trying to think of the right thing to say, "becauseihavekindoffanciedyousincethirdyearandithinkyouareamazingandbeautifuland'ithinkiminlovewithyou'andithinkyoulikemetooandwillyougooutwithme?"he spotted out at the speed of light that you didn't know what to do other than stare at him in shock and amazement that he hadn't taken a death at all throughout that whole sentence. "I didn't really catch that Remi, how about you take a breath and just say it slowly yeah?" With a gentle smile as you caught a few bits of what he said but just wanted to make sure he was amazing what you thought he was asking.

"I have kind of fancied you since third year and I think you are amazing and beautiful and I think i'm in love with you and I think you like me too and will you go out with me?" He repeated but slower this time and you were so happy you couldn't do anything but flash the biggest smile across your face at him as you said happily, "about bloody time you aske me out!” as you leaned up and placed another kiss on his lips but this time it was shorter as you slipped off to the stairs calling back "goodnight, boyfriend." You turned around and winked at him as he shock his head at the whirlwind that was you, his now girlfriend.

[crewhonk]

Bet (3/4)

Summary: Spirit Week begins at Midtown High and YN and Bucky are the most competitive 

Words: 3.9K

Warnings: butt touching, hufflepuff bashing, hufflepuff pride, (for Gio, harry potter references)

Previous Part 

_____________________________

The week started with a new agency in the air of Midtown High, not only for the students, who arrived in their third-period classes with a new gusto in their step but also the teachers— two specifically. 

YN YLN and Bucky Barnes opened their Literature and Physics classes with no books, no pens and all eyes on them. 

“Okay, guys,” YN said, closing the doors. “We’ll be doing classwork only on Tuesday and Thursday this week as you know it is spirit week.” She smiled as Michelle looked put out and placed her book back into her backpack. “I haven’t graded your journals from the summer yet, but they will be done at some point.” The class laughed as she went on. 

“So, We’re a part of the yellow team this year, which means I need each of you to bring me as many yellow things to fill up this class. By the end of the week, we’re going to be given points based on how many theme-colour things we have which will help us win. Also, any non-perishable food items count as double points, as there is going to be a food donation bin.” She said, taking off her cardigan and throwing it over her chair. 

She watched with amusement as several of the students in her class started taking off sweaters and pulling out anything yellow from their bags as they could, placing it on her desk. 

“Nope. Put your socks back on, Ray.” She laughed, watching as the class (including Rayshaun) giggled to themselves playfully. Michelle put her hand in the air, and YN smiled before nodding at her.

“What’s up, Michelle?” 

“Well, none of our previous teachers cared too much about spirit week— why do you care so much?” She asked and the rest of the class fell into silence. 

“Well,” I have a bet with your really attractive physics teacher, “I think it’s a really good way to get excited about something at school. I know how much it sucks sometimes so this is something I want you guys to get excited about. And, since it’s your senior year, I’ll make sure if you guys win, you’ll be getting not only a decent prize from Principal Danvers but a sizeable prize from myself.” There was an excited chittering around the class and YN smirked, knowing now that her class would pull themselves together just a bit. 

There was a knock on the door, and YN looked up to see none other than Bucky, poking his head in. He looked her up and down, drinking in her bare arms and shorter skirt and licking his lips before putting a cocky smirk on his face and raising his eyebrows. 

“Ready to lose, YLN?” He crooned and the class fell silent. His group was behind him, giggling quietly to each other. 

“Not really, no— it’s why I’m not going to.” YN shrugged easily, walking towards the door, much to the thrill of her kids. He straightened up when she stopped in front of him, one hand on the door and the other on her hip. 

“You sure about that, Ms YLN? I have a pretty good group with me. Smart. Determined.” He licked his lips as a smile pulled over her face— evil, taunting, teasing. 

“I don’t need to overcompensate for mine, Barnes. Get ready to lick your wounds.” She hummed, and before he could make anything inappropriate, she shut the door in his face and turned around to her class. 

“You guys ready to show him what you’re made of?” She asked, and was greeted with a wall of cheers and laughs and excited chatting. 

Good.

___________________

The first challenge was pretty easy— yellow. By the time the third period rolled around on Tuesday that week, YN’s class was filled to the brim. There were flowers littering every window sill and covering her desk. In clear bins, sat piles of clothes and shoes and (clean) socks. There were two yellow bikes by the door and there were a few yellow blankets and pillows over the couches of her class. Adding with the windows open, the soft autumn breeze and city ambience, YN YLN’s classroom as slowly becoming the brightest, happiest class in the school. 

They had been reading together again, today and what she had said about excitement about Spirit Week lifting her students' spirits soon came to be true. They were happier entering the class, and they participated more in their work. She marked their journals easily and lightly, and handed them back at the end of class, glowing with pride over the fact that there wasn’t a mark under a B-.

YN practically skipped to the staff room, yellow skirt flowing around her knees. Her hair was loose for the first time today— the top half in a bun and the lower half bouncing with each step. She entered the staff room and walked to the fridge, pulling her lunch and strolling easily to the table where Natasha (wearing red), Sam (also wearing yellow), Steve (wearing blue), and finally Bucky who looked dashing in his green t-shirt. 

“I’ll have you guys know,” she said, smiling and setting her bag on the table. “My class is so going to win. Have you seen my classroom?”

Natasha made a disappointed noise in the back of her throat and glared at the food YN took out. “Yeah, what the hell is up with that? It’s like the sun from Teletubbies shit all over your classroom.”

“Team spirit, Natasha.” She said, faking sympathy. Sure, Nat’s head may be red, but her classroom was not. 

“It’s very Hufflepuff of you to be so proud of the colour yellow, you know.” Bucky piped up, a cock-sure smirk on his face. 

YN’s jaw dropped and she glared at him. “I’ll have you know I’m Slytherin sun with a Gryffindor moon and I take great offence to that, thank you very much.” 

He leaned back and laughed, hair falling over his shoulders and hands on his stomach. Despite her playful irritation, YN couldn’t help but feel a flutter in her stomach over the idea of him wanting to take her out. Him wanting to make her smile, and make her turn into a pool of putty over dinner. 

“Hufflepuffs are… nice.” He said, continuing to chuckle and YN threw a napkin at him. 

“You’re going down, Barnes.” She grumbled, a smile on her face despite the threat. 

“Maybe so.” He winked and YN’s face flushed bright red at the connotation of his words. There was a period of silence before Steve cleared his throat. 

“Um, what the hell just happened?”

_____________________

By Wednesday, YN felt as if she was drowning in yellow. Her kids had picked up the slack of most other classes, and she heard from Laura as the class settled down that the only real competition they had was from Mr. Barnes and his physics class. 

“Why is he the only competition, Ms. YLN?” Corey asked with a smirk, and YN pretended to not know the answer. 

“I really don’t know.” She answered quickly and the kids in front of her rolled their eyes in apparent unison. “What?” She laughed. 

“Come on, Ms. YLN. He chirps you in the hallway, he interrupts class to judge us, he’s been asking us how we’ve been so good if we run into him. With all due respect, he likes you!” Flash pointed out and YN wanted nothing more but for the ground under her to swallow her whole. 

“No, he doesn’t.” She said, sternly. The hardness of her voice was betrayed by the heat of her cheeks. 

“He’s as jocky as they come and he flirts like a jock.” Michelle said, not bothering to raise her hand and YN coughed. It was covered by the sounds of protest from the student athletes in her class, however, so nobody paid her too much mind. 

“Anyways!” She interrupted the class and they all looked at her. “Have you guys heard what the challenge is yet?” 

“You don’t know?” Asked a voice from the back of the class and she only shook her head. 

“We’re supposed to be getting a card and materials from Mrs. Danvers soon, so I guess we’ll find out soon.”

Just as she finished, a knock sounded from the door, and YN walked quickly over to answer it, revealing Bucky, who was repping his class with green sneakers. He had his arms full of two of every material and YN raised her eyebrows. 

“What’s all this?” She asked, and she took the materials he was holding with his left arm— all yellow. 

“Your materials for the challenge. Oh! And the card is in my pocket.” He smirked and YN handed the materials to the closest student. After shutting the classroom door and stepping out, she reached into his hoodie pocket and when she came up empty handed, she glared at him. 

“Back pocket, doll.” He murmured, voice quiet and out of reach of prying ears. She glared harder and grit her teeth despite the red heat flooding her face. 

“That is innapropraite, Mr. Barnes.” She chastised and he only shrugged. 

“Okay, I guess the plans are for me to decide then!” He started backing away, and YN followed him, shutting the door behind her. 

“Give me the card, Barnes.” She demanded, holding her hand out and waiting for him to stop acting like a child. 

“I’m thinking of bowling. Or roller skating. Then a nice dinner by the harbour and then maybe, if I’m lucky and pick the date properly, a kiss goodnight. But, I think it would be more satisfying if I won justly, you know?” He asked, turning around and walking slowly down the hall. In his back pockets, she saw that there was one yellow card and one green card in each pocket and nope, she definitely didn’t notice how round his ass was. 

“Like, I like to earn my win.” He continued, and YN darted forward (and very careful not to touch his jean-clad butt) and picked the card out of his pocket. He spun around quickly, and she held up the envelope in between her fingers, smirk on her face at his aghast expression. 

“I don’t bowl, Barnes. I think a walk in the gardens with some coffee and then dinner, and then, if you behave, a kiss goodnight. Have fun losing.” She smiled and pranced back to her door, looking back at him to see his jaw on the floor and a flush on his cheeks. Did his hair seem a little messy, or was that her imagination. 

With a wink, she closed the door and turned to her class who were waiting for a report with bated breath. 

“I got the card. We have to win this, guys.” She said, holding up the card to show the and there was a moment of silence before the class got up and burst into action. 

________________________

There was a pile of clay, a few tubs of dollar store paint, and a long sheet of yellow poster paper. The card read three things;

Make a mascot

Make a poster

Make a cheer

Wait for further instruction. 

So, she let the class divided themselves evenly into three groups, and there was a steady stream of chanting, music and chatter through the hour and a half they had left. She watched them, moving from group to group slowly and commenting on what the students were working on. She had even knelt to the floor and taken a paintbrush to help the Poster Team neaten up their letters and accidentally smudged pink paint on her cheek (much to the amusement of her kids). 

The chant was going well— the drama kids had all gathered and written lyrics easily and were now coming up with choreography that YN had to tell them to simplify for the rest of the class. They did, and when they did a full run through for the class at the end of the period, they were greeted with cheers. 

Next, the mascot sculpture made YN howl with laughter. Michelle had taken lead on this one, and YN glowed with pride at how quickly Michelle had come out of her bubble in the past three days. Everyone had followed her lead, coming up with designs and colour scheme for the clay they were working with, and when YN was called over to check up on it, a wide smile spread across her face. 

“A badger?”

“Well, since our colour is yellow, and so is Hufflepuffs from Harry Potter, we thought it would be cute to make our little guy a badger!” Alice piped up and the rest of the team seemed to be in full agreement. 

“And you guys all agreed?” She asked the rest of the group and they nodded their heads. 

“Well, we thought everyone would make something that dealt with their colours, so this would stand out,” Ray said. 

“I like it, guys. Wait, hold on.” She said, rushing to her desk and grabbing a spool of yellow ribbon from one of her kid's moms’ sewing kit. She placed it on the desk and pointed at it lazily. 

For when the paint and clay dries maybe we can make him a scarf or something!” She smiled and two of the girls watching and working on their biology homework beside Michelle who was working on the badger ‘awe’d’ loudly. 

She returned to her desk, then and saw a text from Bucky. Looking up at her class to see they were all occupied by one thing or another, she unlocked her phone to see a sculpture of a snake coiled around something that looked like a trophy base. 

‘Slytherins are the superior house, and it’s going to crush your little yellow badgers.’

‘oh, barnes you have no idea what’s coming. excited for the gardens : ).’

________________________

For the next two days, YN was sure to keep her blinds and doors shut and locked while she wasn’t in the class. The yellow and banners and sculpture were making the room seem small and bright and she wanted to keep it a secret— a surprise so she could see the devastation on Bucky’s face. 

On Friday, she was already in her class when the periods changed, and she watched in amazement as five kids walked in with shopping carts— half of which were full with as many yellow foods and food packages as they could buy. 

“We’re going to put them in the donation box!” Flash smiled as YN covered her mouth. 

“Guys, how much did this cost you?” She asked warily, tears in her eyes about how much she adored her class. 

“Nothing! Flash, Carly and Samantha all told their parents about what was going on and they bought it all with their credit cards!” Laura piped up and YN coolant help but jump up and down. 

“Guys! You are so good and great and you’re blowing my minds this week. Even if we lose today, I’m so, so, so proud of you all for everything you’ve done.” She cooed and they all preened at her praise. After a moment, she wiped the corners fo her eyes and clapped her hands. 

“Okay, so we’re going to be called down to the courtyard soon, but we should start loading up the food into one cart so we have room for everything else we can’t carry.” She instructed and began helping them fill the carts with clothes and blankets and food and everything yellow that filled her room. She even took some books off of her personal bookshelf and threw them in. 

They were called down soon enough, and with Michelle and Herbert the Badger leading the train, she walked down to the centre court and met the rest of the school. There were spots designated for each class, and she found it hard to fit all of her things in the one spot they were given. Flash had written on a piece of paper that the cart of food belonged to them and placed it over by the donation spot. 

YN was over the moon about her class. The other classes were gathered near their spots, and at most could only fill two of her five-plus shopping carts. She was over the moon until Bucky’s class joined them. 

His class seemed to have had the same idea with their five shopping carts full of green and boxes of things. They made their way to the spit across from YN, and YN wanted to smack the smirk right off Bucky’s face. 

“Nice badger, YLN. Very Hufflepuff.” He smiled, and a few of the class jeered playfully. 

“We’re proud to be Hufflepuffs, you know!” She smirked back. “I see you don’t have a cart for donations? Pity.” She pouted at him and his eyes flittered over her haul, and his eyes squinted. 

“I only see four carts.” He said, and she pointed towards the donations box. His eyes widened and his shoulders slumped when he saw the mountain of yellow food beside the box and he looked to curse himself under his breath. 

“Donation items are with double points, did you know that?” She crooned and her class watched the exchange gleefully. 

“Fine. Okay, sure— but we still have the outdoor activities to do, you know. You can’t really do too much in a skirt, can you?” He tried to tease and she picked up her backpack laying by the wall. 

“I can, but I did bring pants for this very occasion, Barnes.” She smirked and his cheeks darkened. Of course, he thought as she pulled out a pair of tight-looking leggings. Of course, she would know that it would distract him.

“May the best person win.”

_________________________

They were ushered out onto the race track as the TA’s stayed back and counted the teams' items, adding up the points. The Office workers would also be staying back to grade and judge the sculptures and banners. Principal Danvers greeted them as they walked out, and explained the stations they would be at. There would be an egg-race, a potato-sack race, a rocket launch accuracy challenge (bottle rockets provided), a set of beach volleyball (three sets, best out of three), and finally a performance for Danvers of their cheer. 

The teams were numbered off, and four to. Station they set off to their stations, and the kids were overjoyed to see that YLN and Barnes were paired along with Stark and Lang. 

“You guys aren’t allowed to tear each other's throats out, okay?” Steve mumbled to both of you as you passed. 

“Or kiss in front of the kids.” Scott piped up and YN laughed. 

“Who said anything about kissing, huh?” Bucky barked and YN looked at him, raising an eyebrow. 

“Oh come on,” Scott said simply, turning back to his group. 

“Are we really that obvious?” Bucky asked YN and she could have facepalmed at his adorable oblivion.  

______________________

“One, Two, Three… GO!” Shouted the school counsellor, Wanda and ran quickly out of the way of the charging kids. The classes had been divided in two for each challenge, and since Bucky and YN’s classes were both made of 25, they joined the smaller half and cheered not he current group who were sprinting across a section fo field trying to not knock their egos off of their spoons. The relay went quickly, as the half that just went seemed to be comprised largely of the student athletes. 

Steve’s class had won that round, YN coming next followed by Bucky and Scott. YN simply smirked and patted Bucky’s shoulder comfortingly. 

“It’s okay, champ. There’s something that comes from being a loser, I’m sure.” She hummed and he shoved her arm away from him with a smile on his face. 

The next station was the bottle rockets, and of course, Bucky’s team came out on top, and YN’s team came out on the bottom. He patted her head and she smacked his arm. 

“You’re going to look so cute in bowling shoes, YLN.”

The next round was volleyball, and it was styled like a tournament. Thankfully, YN had the most volleyball players in this round, and they won by a small margin next to Scotts class. 

Next was the potato sack races, and YN found herself competing against none other than Bucky. They were up next, both Peter and Michelle hopping next to each other and laughing at each other loudly. YN and Bucky were screaming encouragement at them and as they arrived at the same time, YN jumped into he sack and pulled it around her waist. 

“I’ll go easy on you, okay do— YLN?” Bucky said helping Peter out of his sack and getting into it. She huffed out a breath and stood fully. 

“Don’t you dare go easy on me, Barnes.” She snarled competitively and gave a great leap forward. She heard Bucky curse behind her and start himself and by the time that she had met the end and jumped three times to the end, Bucky had caught up with her. 

“Hey, pretty girl.” He huffed, leaping with great effort beside her. The cheering of their classes grew louder as the approached them and YN only jumped harder. 

“Oh, come on, Doll. Talk to me.” He joked and she only added more strength to her jumps. Bucky kept by her side easily. 

“I’m thinking of Italian. Maybe Mexican? Something with cilantro.” He panted lightly. 

“Stop talking. Do you ever stop talking?” She asked as they neared the finish line. 

“NOPE” He shouted and just before he could give on great leap that would place him before her on the red tape, he tripped, fell face forward, and YN won.

She laughed loudly as she stumbled out of her potato sack as the kids shrieked with joy at their hot physics teacher picking grass out of his mouth and laying flat on his back. She walked over and leaned over him, smiling down at him and he looked up sheepishly. 

“You okay, Barnes?” She asked and he was quiet for a moment before he let out one giggle. YN’s mouth dropped at the sound and at her reaction, more giggled flowed from his chest and soon, YN, Steve, Scott and their classes joined him. 

YN held out her hand and helped him to his feet and he jumped up, breathlessly laughing. The sun shone in his eyes and his smile was bright as he looked down to YN who seemed breathless in a different way. 

“What?” He asked, watching as she seemed unable to form human words. “Do I have something on my face?”

She looked from his eyes to his lips and back to his eyes and shook her head, letting stray hairs float around her face as she stepped back. 

“No, I— I asked if you were okay?” She replied weakly and he chuckled, and bumped her chin with the side of his knuckle. 

“I’m all good, Doll face.”

_______________________

The teams were gathered around in the centre court after the events. Several noses were burnt from the shining sun, and Bucky seemed keen on explaining what happened after the potato sack race to annoying who seemed to care to listen. It was only when Danvers climbed up on one of the tables that his rapidly-exaggerating storytelling came to a halt. 

“So, I’ve gotten all the points counted! I don’t think there’s too much surprise in the results, but here we go! Fourth place, with 231 points is Mr. Banner and his Physics second stream class!” There was a roar of applause from their class as the others clapped politely. Bucky came to stand beside YN and he nudged her side playfully. 

“Third, with 280 points is Mr. Odinson and his PE class!” There was a more excited clapping from the crowd this time around as they grew closer and closer to the winner of Spirit Week. 

“Second, with a smattering number of 788 points is……” She paused for dramatic effect, and Bucky and YN were full on pushing each other at this point.

“Stop pushing me, you’re going to miss the announcement!” YN hissed, a smile on her face. 

“I’ll do what I want— especially when she says your name and I get announced as first place!” He grinned and shoved her once more just as Carol read,

“Mr. Barnes and his honours physics class!” The room seemed to slow down for Bucky, then. His class, though disappointed with their loss of first place cheered to themselves. However, it was the look of elation that spread over YN’s face that made time stop. Her eyes crinkled and shone up at him and a smug smile bloomed on her face as she turned to look up at him. 

“And finally, first place with 952 points is Ms. YLN and her honours literary class!” YN punched Bucky’s arm gently and he blinked himself out of his slow motion moment so that he could hear her speak. 

“I’ll be picking you up at 3:00 tomorrow, Barnes! Oh, boy it’s going to be so good.” She hopped up and down and he watched her with soft eyes as she was pulled away from him and into the arms of her cheering kids. Michelle received a full on hug from her and soon, Herbert the Badger was hoisted up high into the air as the class jumped together in elation, YN swallowed by her adoring class, but still looking at him. Still smiling at him. 

_____________________________

[awkwardlittlepringle]

Queer ‘n Crazy

CHAPTER 8

Hello, fellow fanders! This is chapter eight of Queer 'n Crazy, I wrote it in one go, so sorry if it's a bit rushed. Be sure to check the tags, I don’t want anyone to get hurt!

Also, whenever you feel sad, imagine a LAMP cuddle pile with a touch-starved Patton in the center. Platonic or Romantic. It works, or at least it makes me feel like there's beauty in the world. :) The summary is at the bottom just in case you can’t read it!

Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

WARNINGS: Contains mentions of a bad mental state, references to and mentions of an abusive mother/abusive parents, self deprecating thoughts, eating disorders, medication, anxiety, self conciousness, depression, lack of sleep, swearnig, repression and hiding emotions. Let me know if there are any others, please!

Thanks for reading this!

...................

"Are you sure this is the place?"

Logan glanced down at the flyer in his hand, before nodding. "Yes, I believe so. Meeting is held in the sports hall, starts at 3:15. We seem to be in the right place." The two looked up at the rusty metal sign that was set above the entrance, and sure enough, it was emblazoned with the words Sports Hall.

Logan glanced up and down the silent foyer. "We seem to be the only ones here." he turned to Virgil. "Do you think we're early?" Virgil bit his lip, his fingers starting to toy with his hoodie strings. "I dunno, are you sure we've got the date right?" "Yes, we have, Virgil." Logan sighed, exasperated. Virgil froze at his tone, instantly curling in on himself. He stayed silent instead of replying. Logan hadn't seemed to notice his reaction. Or maybe he did and doesn't care. At that moment, the foyer door opened.

"Seriously?! Cavetown is superior. You cannot change my mind." Virgil turned his eyes to the noise, grateful for a distraction.

The girl who'd spoken was short and round, with pale skin and yellowing teeth. Her hair hung limp in little clumps, and she was wearing a black oversized hoodie. Accompanying her was a taller, skinnier girl, with thinning brown hair. The taller girl scoffed.

"Nuh-uh. Twenty one Pilots is better." "You're just in denial." "I'm telling the truth, you heathen." "Your truth is a lie!" Something in Virgil's chest lightened at the mention of one of his favourite bands, but his jaw felt like it was wired shut. They were probably in Lyra, eating disorders. Virgil couldn't understand how. He was a stress-eater. He was probably staring at them - he should stop staring at them. God, I'm such a weirdo.

Virgil pulled his hood up and shoved his hands in his pockets, his stomach tightening. They probably thought he was some kind of recluse. He could feel Logan's gaze on him, but he didn't look at him. "Cavetown's lyrics have meaning! I can't say the same for ToP." "Cavetown's lyrics are bullshit compared to Twenty One Pilots'. Do you know how many lives they've saved!" "Lives saved doesn't equal quality." "One of their taglines is stay alive, for god's sake!" "I don't think God would like Twenty One Pilots." "Because they're calling him out for the disorders he's inflicted on us." The shorter girl scoffed. "Bullcrap. What do you guys think?"

Virgil didn't respond, and Logan looked down at him.

"Uh, Virgil?" Virgil jumped, turning to Logan. A concerned expression filled his field of vision. Oh god, he's worried. I can't give anyone a moment of peace, can I. I guess mum was right about that one.

"The girl's asked you a question?" "Are you assuming my gender?" said the shorter girl with a exaggerated expression. Virgil stifled a laugh, a little bit of panic fading from his eyes. Logan however, looked at the two, baffled.

"Sorry, are those not your preferred pronouns?" "No, no, they are. Sash's just joking." The taller girl looked over at Virgil, who was now surveying the two with interest.

"Do you listen to ToP or Cavetown?"

Virgil nodded. "Which one?" "Um, Twenty One Pilots." The shorter girl pouted. "I've listened to a bit of Cavetown too, though."

"Aha! So tell us, dear emo - wait are you emo?" Virgil glanced between to two, confused. "Uh, I guess?" "Alright. So tell us, dear emo, which one is better?" "Hey, you can't ask him! He listens to your stupid Pilots more!" "Well you can't expect to find someone who listens to then equally-" "I think I can, thank you very much!"

Logan shot a look at Virgil, who returned it, and the two redirected their attention to the bickering pair.

"Well anyway, which one's better?" Virgil started, his throat turning dry. Whatever he said, he'd probably offend one of them, so...

"Um, I like ToP better-" "Ha!" "-but Cavetown's valid too." The taller girl pouted, her eyebrows scrunching up. "Well shit. I thought I'd won that." "HAHA!!!!!!!!!!! ROBBIE AIN'T GOING DOWN THAT EASILY!!!!!!!!!!!" "Isn't his name Robin?"

A silence overtook the group, all of whom stared at the tie-clad boy. Logan looked at the three, confused. "Are you guys okay-" "I"VE FOUND ANOTHER ONE!!!!!!!!!" The shorter girl screeched, throwing her hand up in the air. Virgil flinched away from the noise, but he found himself smiling none-the-less.

"What in the name of Rose Quartz is going on out here?" Virgil's heart jumped into his throat and he froze like a deer in the headlights. "Oh, you must be here for gay club!" Gay club?  

Virgil turned around, confused. A flicker of recognition ran through him when he saw the grinning face peering around the door, before his stressed brain made the connection. Thomas.

"Hey, aren't you that kid from the orientation?" Virgil nodded stiffly, before attempting to crack a smile. Thomas smiled, walking toward them with a clear bounce in his step.

"I'm Thomas, president of Gay Club." "It's LGBT club, Thomathy." Virgil glanced at the door again to see a ...person, probably male, but they were dressed andro. They glanced at the four of them smiling. "You guys are at the wrong door, but we can make an exception."

Thomas started bouncing on his heels, and clapping. "Oh goodie! Right this way, my rainbow friends!"

Logan straightened his tie, before following Thomas, Virgil and the girls in tow. Thomas gave them a basic run-down of the club as they walked. "We're an LGBT club, obviously. We don't really do stuff, we just meet up and be gay." "Define what you mean by "be gay"."

"Well, we do have a little clique in here that like to call themselves the "matchmakers", but they'll lay off you if you tell them to. We also set people up in straight seeming relationships if they want us to, exclusionists are not allowed. Otherwise it's mainly just gay jokes and sitting on chairs wrong. C'mon." Thomas lead them through a set of heavy blue doors, and suddenly they were inside the hall.

It was basically a gym. A gym that was packed with people -god, there were a lot of people. Across the pulled-out bleachers there was a large rainbow banner decorated with the words LGBT YOUTH in a striking gold. Students of all ages, from 12 to 19 were scattered across the place, chatting. There were a few couples flirting, Virgil could even see a group of punks playing uno with a few other kids. Despite the clear differences in personality, everyone seemed to be getting along really well, and as far as Virgil could tell, there were no rivalries.

This did ease Virgil's tension a little, although he still stuck close to Logan. Maybe he should ask about increasing his dosage.

"Oi, Talyn! We've got some more newbies!" The group followed Thomas to a large table in the center of the room, behind which sat a person with flaming blue-dyed hair. She looked at Thomas grinning, before shifting her gaze to the four following him.

"Hiya! My name's Talyn. They/Them." Virgil smiled at them, nodding. "Just put your name down here, along with your contact details. If you don't want to add your number, that's fine. Email will do. And if you really don't want us to contact you, that's cool too."

Virgil and Logan signed their names, followed by the girls. Virgil was ready to book it to a corner, but Logan waited. Once the girls were done signing, he spoke up.

"May I know your names?" The girls looked up, pleasently surprised. "Oh! I'm Kate, and this is Sasha." "Generic names, we know." Logan smiled. "I'm Logan. I hope to see you around." "'m Virgil." said Virgil, putting down his hood and smiling. "Nice to meet you."

"So what are you guys." Logan's brow crinkled with confusion, something which looked adorable on him.

"I beg your pardon?" "She means what about you is not straight or cis?" "Oh. I'm asexual and homoromantic." "Bi." "Cool!"

"Specs!" Virgil snickered as Logan sighed. "Well, it was nice to meet you two." He turned around. "Hello, Roman. Fancy seeing you here." Roman scoffed, sauntering toward them with Patton in tow. "Geez, Logan. Is that your standerd greeting? Ya gotta mix it up a little!" "What do you mean by mixing-" Roman cut him off with a sigh. "You're hopeless."

"Ro, you might wanna turn down the sarcasm a little. Hey, Virgil." "Hey, Pat." Virgil frowned, taking in Patton's appearance. He was wearing a grey hoodie, and his skin was pale and ashen. Despite the fact Virgil had seen him a few days ago, his seemed considerably more tired, bags visible through his glasses. His hair was greasy, and he had his arms wrapped around his stomach, slouching. Even his smile seemed half-hearted.

"Are you alright, Patton?" said Virgil cocking his head. He felt an undescribable urge to hug the shorter male, but he resisted. Patton's expression changed quickly, his cheeks quivering as he tried to force a smile onto his face. "I'm all good, Virg! Just feeling a little down!" Yeah, he's not okay.

Instead of saying this out loud, Virgil cocked his head to the side. "Patton, you do realise you're talking to someone who's been in a bad mental state before, right?" Patton sighed, his shoulders sinking even lower. "Yeah, I know. It's not too bad, I promise." "It's all good. We don't have to talk about it if you don't want to." Virgil glanced over at Roman and Logan, who were discussing Roman's latest hairstyle.

His bangs were swooped out of his face and the tips were dyed a dark red, something that constrasted against his dark hair dramatically. His expression, however, did not match his hairstyle at all.

"Whaddaya mean you don't like it." whined Roman, pouted. Logan sighed. Is that all he does around this guy? "You asked for my opinion, Roman. I personally, do not like it. That is not to say it looks bad." Roman's pout grew impossibly larger, and he turned to Virgil.

"What about you, Emo Nightmare?" Virgil surveyed Roman's hair with interest.

"You dyed it yourself, didn't you." Roman shot him a look, surprised. "How could you tell?" "A proper stylist would have done it from the roots," Virgil mused, a smile gracing his features. "But for a first timer, you've done pretty well. Nice colour choice, too. It suits you." Roman grinned ear-to-ear, before twirling around. "Yay!" he cheered. Virgil raised an eyebrow.

"Did you just twirl?" "Aha!" "You do realise we're not in a disney movie, right?" "Shut up!" he shrieked.

While the noise irritated Virgil at the time, he later decided Patton's small chuckle made it worth it.

....................

SUMMARY : Virgil and Logan go to LGBT club where they meet two girls from Lyra named Sasha and Kate. They end up meeting Roman and Patton inside, and Patton looks like he’s going through a rough time. ROMAN GOT A NEW HAIRSTYLE!!!!!!!!!! His tips are now dyed red. 

Tag List : 

@tired-babyboy 

@someone-idk-is-here

@true-chaotic-dumbass

@666frostwolf

[gotmeringinghellsbells]

Hii, I wanted to send in a prompt if that's okay. Maybe one day Keith's being extra grumpy and pouty and Lance isn't having it. He sentences the boy to a session of endless cheer up tickles until he smiles again?

New People, Still a Family

Fandom: Voltron Legendary Defender

Characters: Keith Kogane, Lance McClain

A/N: Wasn’t sure if this was supposed to be klance or not so I just kind of went with implied klance but still platonic? Anyway, I thought this was a super cute idea! Thank you so much for the prompt! I hope you don’t mind the broganes and “hinted” adashi I added for context.

Description: After a nasty fight with Shiro (Kuron), Keith’s emotions spiral! He wants to just be left alone to sulk…. but Lance isn’t having it. 

_

It all started out of pure boredom. Lance McClain woke up late just to face yet another “thrilling” day in space, on a castle,with the same seven people he’d been seeing for how long now? The Cuban male slowly sauntered into the bathroom with a yawn and stretch before washing his mask off and brushing his teeth. Getting dressed, applying moisturizer, and a bit of makeup to keep his glow was all apart of the morning routine. 

The made up zombie slowly made his way down to the cafeteria to see if Hunk was still serving slop. Frankly, he was bored. Everyday was the same thing in and out unless they were fighting for their lives. Get rejected by Hunk and Pidge who would be geeking out together, get rejected by Allura though Lance really couldn’t see why, try to get out of cleaning with Coran and having to hear more stories about his youth, and being made a fool of by the mice. 

Honestly, it was like Kultinecker was his only friend anymore. Of course, Lance was also rather dramatic. Keith and Shiro almost always spent their time together or alone so he didn’t try very often to talk with them. Well, Shiro out of respect for his space and Keith…. Well. “Keith get back here!” Speaking of Shiro.

The door to his room opened as an furious looking Keith stormed out. Purple met blue very quickly and aggressively. Honestly if the red paladin wasn’t taken off guard he would have noticed the tears pricking the other’s eyes. “What,” Keith growled. Lance put his hands up in surrender. “Ah, nothing man. You do you.” 

The other simply growled again before moving around Lance, slamming their shoulders together as he did so. “Keith!” Shiro rounded his door frame, a look of exhaustion on his face. He’d been back for maybe a week now and suddenly it was like he and Keith were fighting everyday. He sighed as he watched his brother march of. He didn’t mean to make him upset!

Suddenly, gray eyes fell on the body before them before the former leader quickly tried to compose himself. “Lance, what’s up?” He sounded so fake. The shorter pointed back at Keith. “Everything alright?” The older nodded. “Touchy topic.” Did he mean his leading skills? Because frankly, they weren’t the best. 

They had improved though, Lance would give him that. In reality it was everything. Tex, Adam, loneliness, expulsion, some words were said by both parties and finally Keith broke down and stormed out. “Oh um…. You gonna go after him?” The other thought for a moment which, frankly, wasn’t a good sign. “No, he needs time to cool down.” 

The smaller wanted to make a joke but decided it was best not too. “Ah, right. You okay man? You guys have been fighting a lot lately. You look drained.” Lance was studying his face more. Discolored bags under the eyes, ghostly skin, space dad needed sleep. “I’m…. not sure honestly.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. 

“I haven’t really felt right since I got back, and I have this headache that just won’t quit. Nothing I’ve taken is helping either.” Lance came forward to put pressure on the forehead. Gray eyes snapped open at this but relaxed as they processed what was going on. “Coran said everything seemed fine. Are you drinking enough? Eating enough?” 

‘Takashi.’ Shiro quickly turned away from Lance with a grunt. “YYeah. I think I’m just going to lay down for a while. Thanks though.” Huh? Lance blinked. “Yeah, sure. No pro,” he was cut off by the door shutting, “blem.” His eyelids fell a bit as he held himself with a soft frown. Everyone was on edge today. 

Walking into the lounge, he was quick to take notice of another’s presence. Oh boy. Well, maybe he could help Keiht a bit? The two had bonded a bit over Shiro’s absence. “Uh, hey man,” the younger started softly. The black paladin shook his head as it rested in his hands. “Go away Lance. I’m not in the mood.” 

Well then. The red paladin scoffed as he kneeled on the floor that sat behind the couch’s back. “And I’m not a child, so don’t shoo me away like I am one.” Keith’s back straightened right up as he whirled around to glare daggers into the other. “Get. Out.” Okay, touchy. “Geez dude, I’m just trying to help you! All you’ve been doing since Shiro got back is fighting with everyone!” 

“I didn’t ask for your help or opinions Lance, leave me alone.” The older stood and went o leave, but he was soon pulled back down, into the other who had moved. Now with both on the couch, Lance held Keith hostage from behind,legs keeping the other’s hands to his sides and keeping their bodies contect. “Dah! What are you doing?!” 

The pulleted paladin looked back at his command to see a pout on Lance’s face. “You and Shiro have been nothing but dicks lately Keith. Enough.” Shiro had been mean too? Keith relaxed a bit as he looked away with guilt. It was probably his fault. Lance gave it a few minutes before slowly trying to hug the other, maybe have a bit of a crying fest. But no, Keith leaned away from the affection as soon as he tried. 

“I’m trying to help dude,” the said softly. Help? Helping would be leaving him be, helping would be…. Would be Adam. Sure, when Keith and him fought it was not that big of a deal Keith would cry a bit and Adam would stop talking after he started to cry. But…. Adam always made up for it in food or cuddles. When he and Shiro fought, both had a hard time just saying sorry or anything like it. Keith always felt so guilty and he’s just cry in his room for hours and refuse to even come out for classes. Adam would always make them sit down and talk about it, resolve things as they both sucked with communicating. But Adam wasn’t here, and Keith didn’t get to say goodbye. 

Which was part of the argument today. It’s like Shiro’s whole mood about the other changed while he was gone. He loved him still, Keith could see it, but he spoke as if…. Keith had no place with them. It hurt, a lot. “Just leave me the hell alone Lance.” He was breaking slowly, but he refused too in front of the other. “Keith, please.” Lance was serious, he wanted to help. 

Then, he was thrown back against the couch as Keith broke free. “I SAID LEAVE ME THE HELL ALONE!” Purple eyes turned slightly yellow, the shine leaving from them. The room stilled Blue eyes widened in slight fear before tears rushed up on Keith’s end. He shook his head before running away, just wanting everything to go away. 

It had been a few hours later, the team was meeting up for lunch. Shiro was talking to COran about his headaches when Lance noticed that Keith wasn’t at the table He frowned a bit before looking to his best friend. “Can you save me two plates man?” The other looked confused before nodding. “Uh, you sure that’s a good idea man? You said he…. Changed this morning.” Lance mentioned the eyes, yes, but Hunk meant Keith’s attitude. It was worse than any had ever seen. 

Lance shrugged. “Unless you wanna do it. Someone should check on him.” Hunk heard his stomach rumble and frowned. He could eat with Keith! But, Keith might be rather nasty still. Lance had the better tolerance for it. “Alright, good luck.” The Cuban male nodded before making his way to the black paladin’s room. Knocking on the door, he waited patiently. No answer. Was he sleeping? 

Did the guy even sleep? “Keith? Buddy?” Still nothing. Normally, that would be a sign to look else where, but Lance didn’t. He opened the door to find…. Uh oh. Nothing. His room, nope, HUnk’s? Also nothing. Pidge, Shiro, Coran, and Allura’s all had no sign of the “emo”. The training deck was empty, the lounge, all that Lance could think of now was Kultineker’s room but why would Keith wasnt to hang out with a cow?

He was hanging out with the cow. Lance sighed as he walked up to his sleeping baby, the angry male using her as a slopped pillow for his head and upper body. Guess all that anger tuckered him out. Kultinecker let out a moo before receiving some soft, loving pets. “You did good girl, you did good.” He looked over the angry male’s sleeping form. He looked so peaceful, so calm. He’d even brought his blanket out with him and…. Of course he sleeps with a knife. 

Moving the weapon away, Lance noticed that Keith’s jeans and boots were tossed to the side. Odd? One would think sleeping with pants on was a good idea when it came to…. grass? Maybe sleeping practically in a cow’s pen? You do you Keith, you do you. 

The male was going to leave him be but that attitude was beyond uncalled for and he needed to eat something. No one knew if he’d eaten breakfast or not today. Smirking, the younger noticed a bit of white sticking up from the thin blanket. Oh, it was so go time. Chuckling, Lance sat like someone wearing a skirt or dress would, legs to the side as he leaned forward and lightly poked at the sock covered toes that were showing. 

Keith’s foot twitched slightly before he moved them away, so much for that. Moving the cover up, he held the ankle, tickling the sole softly. Lips twitched softly as Keith started to react. He tried to pull his foot back again, but to no avail. “Nhoooo,” he grumbled in his sleep. Maybe this was too cruel of a spot? But it may also wake him up quicker, and drain him more so Lance could have the ultimate satisfaction of gaining the upper hand. 

“Yes,” he sang out softly. “Wakey, wakey Mr. Emo.” Purple eyes slowly began to flutter open, vision foggy at first. Brown hair, taner skin, Keith’s laugh suddenly came out more from suspense. “Ahahahdam nahahaho!” It was like a small child when they saw their parent’s clawed hands. “Adam?” Lance stopped in confusion. Oh? Keith started to calm down from his wake up call. Eyes focusing a bit better, he blinked away some leftover tears before blushing. “L-Lance?!” The other moved into Kultinecker more as he was taken off guard. 

“Yeah, not…. Adam? Who’s Adam?” Had Keith…. Oops. The other blushed more before looking away. “Professor Wright, from the Garrison? You know, Shiro’s fiancee?” Lance froze. Keith called Mr. Wright by his frist name? Were they clo- SHRIO’S FIANCEE?! “Wait, why would Mr. Wright even do that to you? What do you mean Shiro was getting married?!” His two favorite people, like ever, getting married? When, where, how, huh?!

“Stop yelling,” Keith sighed. “I lived with Shiro, did you…. Not know that? I stole his car…. He took me under his wing… I was an orphan?” Lance sat back a bit. “You were an orphan? How the hell did… I thought you dormed with Matt Holt!” Keith nodded. “I did, and during breaks and stuff I’d go with Adam and Shiro to their families houses. They,” he paused. “Look, what do you want?” So much for opening up and talking about feelings. 

But, while Lance had him in a less cranky mood to where he could survive doing such an act, he might as well. “Oh no you don’t. You don’t get pissy like that, open up, and then shut up. I don’t think so Keith.” The other blinked. “What are you, what are you doing?” Keith was taken off guard as Lance pulled his legs down and sat on them. 

“As much as I want answers, it may be easier to just put a smile on your face for the time being?” A smile? What was he talking about? Keith tilted his head, not really caring about how the other was sitting on him as much as the fact that…. Physical contact. 

Lance smirked as he poked at the other’s stomach. “Oh, I think you know.” The black paladin squeaked before looking up in slight fear. God damnit. “W-Wait, don’t. Lahahnce, sthahahop tickling me!” The poor boy fell victim to the other quickly fingers gliding all about his toned torso. “Come on, after this morning, I think you kind of deserve this.” 

Keith tried to cover his mouth as bubbly, awkward, hiccupy giggles let out. “Nhohoho, Lhahahahcne ssthahahop it!” He was whining! Man it was cute though. Lance chukled lovingly before moving the blanket away. “Oh, what’s this? Keith has a body?” It was a lame attempt but he was trying to tease him like a child, or at least fluster him a bit. 

Keith, obviously, didn’t get it and just kind of looked at him like he was dumb. His break allowed him to take in a few gulps of air before he tilted his head. “What?” The red paladin shook his head. “Nothing, nevermind. So…. how about here?” Two hands quickly started to vibrate on the male’s chest, earning soft and melodious giggles. “Ghahahahaha! Chahahut it ohahahaout! S-Stop, it tickles!” 

Raven locks flew about as he shook his head, giggling adorably. “Oh forget it, I want real laughter.” With that, the younger dug into the stomach, causing Keith’s head to whip back into Kultinecker. “Shahahorrhehehey,” he cried out as his head landed. Just because he was being tortured didn’t mean he wasn’t going to have manners with the cow. She gave the sacred milk for milkshakes damnit!

“L-Lhahahahance, plehehehase! I’m shahahahaorrehehehey!” Lance hummed, he wanted to keep going. But…. maybe a chase or something was in order? Stopping, he crawled off the other while letting him catch his breath. Lance passed his shoes and pants over as Keith narrowed his eyes at the brunette. That was uncalled for. 

“What are you, five?” Still so sassy, honestly. Lance huffed before grabbing and ankle and tickling the sole softly. “Seriously man? I thought we were passed this!” Keith shrieked as he kicked at the younger. “Stop it, stop it, stop it!” He covered his face as he fell over, trying to get the other off of him. Honestly, both were rather enjoying this. It was fun, and relaxing, and just childish all around. Lance slowly let up before pulling his friend into a tight hug. “I’m always here if you wanna talk. Or… well, Hunk if you don’t want to deal with me. “

Keith actually accepted his friend’s hug, moving into his chest slightly. “Thanks,” he muttered softly. Lance nodded. “And Keith…. We’re all your family, Just…. Remember that, okay man?” Purple eyes watered a bit but Keith nodded with a choked out “thanks”. The two sat there for a while longer before Lance patted his arm. 

“Let’s go eat lunch, huh? I think Shiro’s cooled down two, maybe you two could talk it out?” The other frowned as he pulled his pants and boots back on. “We’ll see,” Keith hummed. Blue eyes rolled before hands found both of Keith’s sides, earning the beautiful laughter once more. “How about you will or Pidge, Hunk and I will tickle you both, huh? How about that?” Keith squealed beore nodding. “Okay, okay! We’ll talk!” 

He couldn’t help but smile when lance wrapped an arm around him. “Good. Nice to have you back buddy.” The black paladin’s face softened a bit as he leaned into his friend. “We’ll see how long that lasts.” Yeah, they were back to normal again.

[forasecondtherewedwon]

Prompts 10 and 36 just scream Spideychelle. They don't have to be written together, though that might tickle your fancy too

Thanks for the prompts, @soonersgirl86 and Anon! I did end up writing 10 and 36 together, so thank you for putting that idea in my head! Hope you enjoy the results!

The Game’s a Foot on BluePairing:Peter Parker x Michelle Jones (Spideychelle)Rating: TWord count: 1764

10.“You’re wrong and I’ll prove it.”

36. “I’d be fine having sex with the same person forthe rest of my life, if it wasn’t the same sex every single time.”

When you grew up as the ‘smart kid,’ you knew it. You wereeither fawned over or pushed too hard by your parents. Either admired orresented by your siblings. Your classmates simultaneously teased you and wantedyou in their group for projects. Maybe you were lonely, or maybe you enrolledin a good high school, full of ‘smart kids.’ Then you might take it a stepfurther and join Academic Decathlon, grouping yourself with the students thatthe rest of the overachievers thought of as the ‘smart kids.’ Once you’dreached this level, this upper echelon of tomorrow’s leaders, you couldn’t justplay a board game in your spare time. At least, that was what Flash was attemptingto convince them of.

MJ was currently trying to disappear into the thick cushionsat one end of the couch in Flash’s family’s living room. Every time herobnoxious teammate paced by her, she got a lungful of air that had the generalscent of Too Much Body Spray. She was full of regret; one surprise, come-from-behindvictory during a Decathlon scrimmage with another local school had made herfeel dangerously friendly towards the losers she captained and, in the insanityof the moment, she’d spoken two fateful words: “team bonding.”

Now the entire team was spending their Saturday nighttogether at the Thompsons’ while Flash’s parents had a ‘romantic weekend’(Flash’s words―uh, barf) in Las Vegas. Weird family. Somewhere between animpromptu video game championship and the time the tower of pizzas arrived (apparentlya purchase that qualified as an emergency, subsequently charged to Mr.Thompson’s credit card), MJ had identified sinking into the depths of the couchas the least obvious escape route. They just had to forget about her for awhile. If she was completely still, there would eventually be an opportunity tobook it to the door and taste the freedom of her old life. A life before teambonding.

But then Flash started in on his board games rant and beforehe’d reached the end of it (she hoped there actually was an end), he’d beguncounting the other people in the room in case teams needed to be formed. Whatpissed MJ off even more than being counted for participation reasons was thefact that Flash didn’t know how many people were in Decathlon. Not like theyhad biweekly practices or he’d been on the team for three years with very fewnew faces or anything. Moron.

“So we combine them,” he insisted. “Play multiple games atonce.”

“More challenging,” Cindy agreed, perking up next to MJ. “Ilike it.”

“Bonding is cancelled,” MJ protested wearily. “I’m thecaptain.”

Flash rounded on her, crossing his arms.

“Well, there should be another captain, for, like, moraleand chilling!” he said. “And that’s me.”

“That’s the last thing we need,” she grumbled.

“You’re wrong,” Flash argued, “and I’ll prove it.”

That was probably when she should’ve protested harderinstead of slouching off to the bathroom, but hey, she’d drunk two cans ofginger ale and her bladder was feeling it. Constant small sips meant shorterresponses and therefore, fewer chances of being engaged in conversation. Now,walking back into the living room, MJ saw that she was going to pay for her peebreak and pay dearly.

There was a creased Twister mat unfolded on the floor.

Logically, there wouldn’t be room for them all on theplastic sheet, but solving that problem was another thing they’d done while shewas gone. (She’d been two minutes! What the hell?!) These devious,academically-accomplished bastards―had already laid out and begun the alternategame, what looked like a combination of Clue and Life. Betty was sitting withher legs neatly folded, hashing out rules that seemed to require players tosolve the murder before they reached retirement. Oh, and the killer was one ofthe family members they would collect on the way.

MJ was going to lose her shit. If she was about to be heldagainst her will for… who knew how long, potentially hours… she would have atleast wanted to be in the group that wouldn’t be contorting themselves to reachthe correct coloured circle.

She could almost convince herself that was how she felt aslong as she didn’t make eye contact with Peter, staring at her from the otherside of the Twister mat. MJ swallowed and did what anyone with a massive secretcrush and a deficient sense of self-preservation would do: she peeled off hersocks, rolled up the cuffs of her boyfriend jeans, and stepped up to the edgeof the mat.

A dozen rounds in and she was lying to herself again. It wasobviously Flash’s body spray that made her want to knock him over, not the factthat he was positioned between her and Peter. (Yeah right.) Maybe he’d toppleon his own if she announced that she knew Peter was Spider-Man. Was that anappropriate conversation starter? Parties weren’t really her thing.

MJ eyed Peter as he placed his left hand on yellow.Seriously, was no one else paying attention to the ease with which that nerdshifted his limbs? You didn’t get casual strength and defined arm muscles likethat from constructing Lego Death Stars, that was for damn sure. It was thelatest in a long, long trail of breadcrumbs she’d been gathering for months. Sheclosed her eyes for a second and refocused on the game. Again, the urge to bumpFlash possessed her. But she wasn’t supposed to wish for him to be out―Flashwas on her team. Twister wasn’t meant to be a team sport, but Christ, thesetouchy-feely saps.

Ned, who had apparently been killed off in Clue/Life (yeah,she really hadn’t gotten a good grasp of the rules, or they’d evolved), was nowworking the Twister spinner and cheerfully reading out each round’saccompanying question. Because it had to be a combination of games. Because,again, Flash was a moron.

“Right foot blue, MJ,” he directed. (Fucking easy for him tosay, she thought as she stretched with a grunt.) “And your question…” Ned drewa card from the deck. “Would you rather have sex with the same person for therest of your life, or never get to have sex with anyone more than once?”

“Flash, where did you get these questions?” she wondered, movingher foot with a smack.

It wasn’t the first time she’d asked, but he was being cageyabout it. Honestly, most of them sounded like they’d come from some kind of sextherapy manual. Oh god, maybe it was a real game and his disgustingly-in-loveparents played it.

“Just answer,” Flash demanded. “I can’t…. stay…”

He slipped and fell on his ass. MJ blurted out a laugh. Finally,she was having fun at team bonding night.

Flash extricated himself from the mat, being a good enoughsport not to try to take MJ or Peter down as he made his exit, going to watchClue/Life. Peter and MJ were the only two left now. MJ rotated her footexperimentally on its circle, making her toes brush Peter’s. A blush raced uphis face like a burning match. Fascinating.

“MJ?” Ned asked, waiting.

“Uh, can you come back to me?”

He frowned.

“You’re supposed to―”

“They’re fake rules,” she reminded him, “and Peter doesn’tcare. I’ll answer my question after he moves.”

Peter shrugged. Ned sighed dramatically.

“Fine, but I think you should be setting a better example ascaptain.”

“Noted.” She rolled her eyes.

“’K, Peter…” He paused as the spinner whirled around. “Lefthand blue.”

MJ clenched her teeth together and squeezed her lips shut asshe analyzed the circles surrounding his current location. She would not smileshe would not smile she would not smile―Peter lunged towards her and, aftermaybe a second’s worth of hesitation, reached his arm over her extended leginstead of under it. She had her stomach to the ceiling, braced on hands and feetlike a crab, which had been extremely unsexy until Peter positioned himselflike he was about to climb on top of her. The front of his t-shirt draped overher thigh. MJ wasn’t sure he strictly had to be that close. She narrowed hereyes.

Dammit, he’d been playing a long game too.

After settling into his new posture by rocking a bit on hishands, he glanced up, flicking hair out of his eyes. They looked at each other.Yep, definitely dammit.

“Back to you,” Ned reminded her. “No more passing.”

“What was the question again?” she checked, trying to soundbored.

“She’s stalling,” Peter accused. Their eyes held for asecond. “MJ has the best memory in this room.”

Playful complaints? Flattery? And, oh, he wanted her toanswer the question? She would answer that question.

“I’d be fine having sex with the same person for the rest ofmy life,” MJ told Ned (while really, actually, telling Peter), “if it wasn’tthe same sex every single time.”

She was almost certain he’d started to lean over her bodymore before shifting back. And his mouth was open. Though she never stared athis mouth. (Another lie.)

“What if it was one person who behaved like two people?” Nedasked gleefully.

Peter’s head whipped around to shoot his friend a wide-eyed lookthat, to MJ, blatantly said shut up.Could they make it any more obvious that Peter had a secret identity? It wasbaffling. These were the stupidest smart kids she’d ever had the misfortune ofmaking friends with… and in one case, accidentally falling head over heels for.If they were going to be that dumb,she would indulge herself in a moment of pretend ignorance.

“Like roleplay or something?” she asked. Peter made a weirdsound in his throat. MJ decided to go in for the kill, catching his eye. “Yeah,maybe. I’m kind of into masks.”

“I forfeit,” Peter announced, springing to his feet.

Once he’d bounded away down the hall to the bathroom, MJ letherself collapse onto the mat.

“So I guess it’s pretty much impossible that you haven’tnoticed Peter likes you,” Ned summarized, idly flicking the spinner.

“I’ve noticed lots of things,” she replied, smiling as shestared at the high ceiling.

She chose not to specify that one of them wasPeter’s super alter ego. Or that another was the bulge in the front of hisjeans he hadn’t managed to completely block with his hands before running out.Not that MJ would ever look.

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