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voidsturn · 6 days ago

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title: no. 1 party anthem

pairing: stranger!chris x stranger!fem!reader

plot: while suffering with the consequences of unprocessed hurt, loneliness and self-hatred, chris is forced to yet another party. he finds himself in a conversation with someone new, which proves to be weird, comfortable, stupid and real.

tropes: fluff (maybe hurt/comfort), strangers au, close proximity, open ending

warnings: this fic does touch on some sensitive topics but i’m not sure it qualifies as angst. mentions of anxiety attacks, alcohol, smoking/vaping and sex

author’s note: ahhh my first fic on this blog! i’m extremely excited and nervous cuz it’s somewhat longer than i expected but oh fuck. yes, i know this song isn’t actually a happy love song but i just couldn’t bring myself to give them an unfortunate ending. i might in the future but i didn’t want my first fic here to be completely angst (there will be in the future tho, no worries about that) for now, i really do hope you like this!

chris - orange | the girl - pink | nick - purple | matt - blue

“chris, are you making your goddamn piss in there?!” screamed nick, while almost breaking down the bathroom door. he was getting on chris’ nerves, probably more than the thumping bass of some party song or the loud moans of some hookup next door. he was still breathing weirdly but told nick to just leave him alone. nick shortly after, gave up and ran towards the dance floor once he heard the first few beats of some charli xcx song.

while getting out of the bathroom, chris got stopped in his tracks. it was some idiot who couldn’t hold his fucking liquor better than a toddler. he was on the verge of punching that same idiot in the face. “jeez, can you walk like a normal human you fucking moron?” chris realised the asshole spilled some of the disgusting drink on his previously crisp white shirt. he couldn’t believe the theme of this party was ‘classy’. in a matter of thirty minutes, chris almost had an anxiety attack, was caught squatting in the bathroom by his own brother, heard some really unfortunate noises next door, and got his only formal shirt ruined.

chris was stuck replaying the last few moments in his head when the drunk idiot dodged chris and basically threw himself into chris’ safe space - the last empty bathroom. muttering a string of curse words, chris decided to give up on this ‘stupid fucking party’. he thought, or was hoping, that at least matt might be having a bad time as well. in a borderline ritualistic way.

once he saw some familiar faces, chris interrupted a discussion about pokémon between matt and sam. “chris, is it okay if we leave in an hour? i’m finally having a nice time at a party”. matt just said the words he thought would never leave his mouth. sam and colby along with matt tried to calm down the clearly uneasy chris. all he wanted was some fucking peace. chris was getting so goddamn overstimulated, he was fully ready to accept the jail time of a few murders. he wasn’t ready to take an uber either so he just basically ran towards tara after colby told him where she was.

while walking towards tara, chris was so fucking done. doomed actually to be at this party. the big hall felt endless with the maze of sweaty, icky bodies of completely wasted people on the dance floor. this, coupled with the strobing led lights and almost deafening party playlist, proved to be the final boss of overstimulation for chris. he finally reached tara, who was hosting the ‘stupid fucking party’. tara immediately knew chris wasn’t feeling good once he started to frantically ask if there was someplace less chaotic. she said that there’s a rooftop where she saw people go for a smoke.

tara made it seem like the rooftop was a chimney when in reality, there were only three other people. two of them were on their phones, editing pictures taken hours ago, occasionally taking a hit of something bubblegum flavoured. the third was looking at the city skyline. the rooftop was dimly lit with a few fake lamps, streamers and rogue balloons from the loud party downstairs. it was pretty small in size so chris was basically forced to go near the third girl. she had on a sparkly dress. her hair was up in a ponytail with bangs. chris thought she looked pretty but was in no mood to chit-chat cause the environment still reeked of alcohol, pretend and bubblegum. the alcohol smell was probably cause of his ruined shirt. chris walked towards the edge of the rooftop and leaned against the edge, slyly looking for a ‘fucking place to sit’.

he questioned why he was feeling way more sad than at the previous parties he had been forced to. sad wasn’t the word. more like left out. numb… lost even. yeah, his brothers and friends were all present downstairs, having the time of their fucking lives. but why couldn’t he? maybe he wasn’t in a good place mentally. he hated himself and his fucked up predicament for that while the others were just living it up, talking to other excited strangers, dancing, enjoying the ‘stupid fucking party’.

thoughts of self hate started their inevitable projections onto others. in a weird way chris felt almost betrayed. he hated coming across as a complainer but on the way to the party, matt was quick to say shit like leaving in half an hour, while nick was ranting about hoping tara didn’t invite the same morons from two weeks ago. all that bitching and moaning and praying and hating and now nick’s probably dancing his heart out to some ariana grande remix while matt’s chatting with people about fucking pokémon. just pokémon actually, that was phrased really weird.

it wasn’t always like this. all three of them were supposed to be in LA for business and pretend to like this. but at this point, nick and matt were getting a bit too good at pretending and chris just wasn’t. hence the shocking betrayal. now chris knows that entire cycle of thoughts started okay and just spiralled. completely outta his hands. now, he hates that he thinks like this about his two favourite humans in the world. thus began the voices in his head.

“you’re such a loser, useless without your brothers, and still you’re thinkin’ shit like this. fucking pathetic. don’t even have a fucking driver’s license? scared of having a girlfriend? again, you’re fucking pathetic. stop crying and whining and complaining like a stupid baby and suck it up for the love of-”

chris was quick to pull out his nearly dead phone and hence began his doom-scroll during moments like this. he wanted to avoid this shit, at least till he was in the comfort of his own bedroom. he heard the ‘sparkly’ girl behind him muttering and breathing? if anything, he thought she was staring at him cause of the two burning holes he felt at the back of his head. ugh, the one time he doesn’t have a hat or beanie on. he hoped ‘taylor swift doppelgänger’ took the hint that he wanted to be left to his own goddamn devices.

she didn’t. of course she didn’t cause that’s just who she is.

“you should sit down. that glass railing isn’t as strong as it seems. wouldn’t wanna witness a-”

“i got it, thanks” snapped chris as he finally made eye contact with the girl. she had wide eyes, really big hoops and glitter on her face. her dress resembled a disco-ball.

“fine by me, more room on this… floor” chris let out a soft chuckle. can you blame him, he needed it. well to her, it sounded more like a scoff. “sorry, things are just harder to process tonight and i don’t know why” chris didn’t know why the girl was saying things that someone closer to her should hear. ‘maybe she’s drunk’ he thought, while thinking of something weird to ask so she’d go away.

“are you a disco-ball? i’m asking this to see how shit-faced you might be”

“i’m not a disco-ball, i’m a mirrorball… see that’s funny because they’re the same goddamn thing. and, this isn’t a fucking halloween party. and no, i’m not drunk, i’m pissed”

“oooh mirrorball’s got some lip on her huh?” shock wasn’t the word chris could use anymore. more like glad. glad that he wasn’t the only one pissed, again, in a borderline psychotic way. nick had tara to dance with, matt had sam to catch pokémon with. maybe chris could just talk to this girl. it wasn’t completely unrealistic, right?

he walked towards where she was sitting. getting comfortable on hardwood floor was no joke but once he saw her gratefully smile at him for a change, it was weirdly comfortable. she began talking yet again. “any good shows you’ve been watching?” wasn’t the question chris thought he’d be asked. maybe his name or something, but decided to roll with it. “nah, more of a music guy. matt’s the crazy binge-watcher”

“excuse me, more like matt’s the fun one. and yes, i took that personally cause i love shows” the girl was fully ready to defend her slightly insane ways to finish a series. “okay, well i love breaking bad, what about you?”

the girl shook her head “sadly, breaking bad is currently rotting on my watchlist but hey, you’re motivation to finally start it” chris was still hoping for something in common between them. not in a romantic way, of course but it did make talking to a complete stranger easier.

“so what about music?” the girl’s eyes lit up when she said taylor swift. chris was quick to speak. “okay but i don’t get why she’s so popular music wise? she’s cool don’t get me wrong, but-”

“because… she makes us feel seen dude” the girl continued. “the fact that someone as awesome as her can go through some of the same shit as me, makes me feel validated… seen. but then again, i won’t try to make you like something if you just don’t wanna. i do fuck with r&b and rap though if that’s what you listen to”

hoping this is the overlap between them chris asks “you heard of lil skies?” “i have, but i’m a local. more on the chill rap scene”

“so you like drake don’t you?” “say what you want but the guy’s got some hidden gems and his old stuff’s pretty awesome” chris couldn’t agree more. “totally get it, matt and i used to always jam out to the motto and she will-” “is matt your brother?” chris is in disbelief. egotistic disbelief but still. he widens his bright blue eyes. “oh my god, you have no idea who i am don’t you?”

the girl shakes her head “i mean i don’t know which one you are? are you one of those who refers to themselves in third person?” “please say something other than that. you’re making me feel like an idiotic species with that sentence. see now that’s funny cause that’s pretty weird of you-”

“i got it, thanks” the two couldn’t help but laugh. chris was feeling light and it was all thanks to this ‘mirrorball’ he found. he thought he could ask why she was previously pissed, hoping she didn’t take it the wrong way.

“oh i saw my drunk ex downstairs. he said some really weird shit and i got super mad at him and almost punched that bitch in the face” chris let out a wheeze which was promptly stopped by the girl’s pissed face. he couldn’t relate to her, yet he tried to understand. “how did it end?”

“whoa. you just made a taylor swift reference! you’re learning. see that’s funny cause-” “not funny dude. and you’re dodging the question so i’m sorry i asked” chris knew he overstepped the pretty thick boundary with someone he met only twenty minutes ago. after a long sigh, the girl began her explanation. “i just lost feelings. and it sucks cause i didn’t wanna string him along. downstairs he made me feel like i was a monster”

chris completely respected her decision. “you aren’t. you’re already better than people who choose to cheat. how long was it?” he thought people like that are very rare to come by. “barely two months? i don’t really remember but thanks for saying that whole thing” the girl smiled and felt understood. she added. “i tried, but my commitment issues kinda got in the way” chris knew all about that. he really did. even though he was curious, he wasn’t sure if he should go any further. something between the two had changed. one could hear a spark of lighting a firework in the silence, that kinda silence. not the awkward kind at all. peaceful and understood, yet troubled by the past.

both were left thinking about what could’ve been if they didn’t just push people away. maybe chris would’ve had a girlfriend, or an ex by now. maybe she would’ve still been in that relationship. unfortunately, the need to be free and invulnerable overpowered the two’s want of romantic love.

the girl was first to break the silence. “i love how i just said that to you, yet i don’t even know your name”

“the name’s chris” she hummed “name matches the looks”

chris had an involuntary red tint spread across his face while he widened his eyes. “did you just say i literally look like a chris?” “yeah basically” said the girl as if he asked her the dumbest question of the week. maybe of the month. chris agreed and continued, “hmm yeah, we did just trauma bond, yet we met barely an hour ago”

the girl was taken aback. “excuse me, trauma bond where? you still haven’t told me why you’re sad.” chris thought the hard part of finding someone was over. maybe just saying this to a complete stranger was harder. ‘fuck it’ he thought.

“look, i can’t even begin to think why cause every time i do, i ignore it cause i just don’t wanna get into it, and it all just builds up-” chris stopped himself but the girl nodded, showing that it’s okay and safe for him to go on.

“i know i should be happy. i’m young, healthy, well-off… but i feel so lonely, now more than ever. i blame my brothers for finally finding fame and LA actually okay and i know i’m such an asshole for saying that. y’know every single time some fan asks, ‘oh who’s least likely to live without his brothers or who’s least likely to be in a relationship’ they always instantly say it’s me. and i get it. i’ve built an image like that and yes it’s partially my fault but it still hurts. it’s like… people just expect me to be attached at the fucking hip to my brothers, and scared of women. i’m still definitely not ready for a relationship, but when someone says something like that again and again, it fucking pisses me off even more. in a way, it just stops me from pursuing anything cause everyone just always has something to say, and i just can’t help focusing on the bad shit. now i’m here, troubling you. someone i’ve known for two fucking seconds with my shit. i just really fucking hate it”

the girl took in all of his words and hurt and inhaled sharply before she spoke. “it’s okay to feel that way. the whole thing about you just blurting this out is valid. sometimes it’s easier to talk to a stranger than a loved one because they don’t know anything about you. and i’m weirdly proud that you said all that. it takes real guts”

chris felt the way he thought the girl feels when listening to taylor swift. seen. the girl continued. “and at the end of the day, you’re not gonna fucking end up cranky, sad and alone. as long as you have hope, faith and most importantly, love. not only for others, but really for yourself. if you feel hurt, you’ll hurt others and push them away. so it’s best to take care of yourself first, try to find a way you can open up to people closest to you. then you can definitely find whatever it is you’re looking for” chris didn’t take her words lightly and knew they were gonna be stuck in his head, regardless of his shitty memory.

he resumed the quip-off, feeling much better after letting all that out, and not being blindly judged for it. “so, we’re even now right?” the girl just knowingly smiled and chris couldn’t put a finger on why he just really liked a smile on her face. “y’know, i got all that from a taylor swift song”

“no fucking way. taylor’s songs give you wisdom?” the girl nodded but was quick to add. “more than wisdom, it’s clarity. and advice. honestly, she’s like the older sister i never had” chris wondered which song and as if the girl read his goddamn mind she answered, “well, it’s actually a combination of three songs. one’s the archer by taylor swift, the other’s escape from la by the weeknd-”

“did not think you fuck with him as well. they’re so different from each other” chris says while the girl just blinks. chris immediately apologises. “sorry, i have a habit of interrupting my brothers. my brain’s just really fucking weird and fast”

letting out a chuckle she says, “nah its all good chris. i can personally relate to that” to ensure he didn’t commit a fucking crime. chris lets out a sigh of relief while pulling out his phone, opening apple music in the process. “what’s the third song?”

as if right on cue, the five percent battery warning invades his screen. “ah fuck, phone’s almost dead” his panic continues. “i hate to say this but i have to go. otherwise my brothers will think i left already and my phone will be dead by the time i can call-” “it’s okay chris, go. i’m not mad at all”

chris hurriedly tries to find an outlet on the rooftop but there aren’t any. even the other two people who were previously there are gone, leaving their trace behind with the sweet smell of bubblegum. the girl’s eyes kept following chris, who was spastically still searching for a goddamn power bank or something. anything. “i’m pretty sure there’s no chargers here”

he turned his head towards her so quick, whiplash never felt more real. “okay then tell me your number, your name. anything” he was so out of breath from running around like a hooligan. yet, chris was determined to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating that entire conversation. the girl smiled yet again. ‘that damn smile’ he thought. “i hope you’re coming to jake’s party next weekend. i’ll be there”

chris really liked that answer. of course he did. he liked the chase and was finally excited to come to the next party. his phone started buzzing, messages from the triplet’s group chat appeared on his lock screen asking chris’ whereabouts. they were dying to leave but he wasn’t. he bid his ‘mirrorball’ goodbye and started to run down the stairs. just before chris could go he asked. actually… screamed.

“what was the third song!”

the girl turned around and screamed back the third songs name.

she blushed and looked away while chris’ signature grin took over his features. he saw the rooftop one last time. the battery on the phone was low but his spirits were high. he somehow managed to take a really shitty picture of that very ‘shiny’ rooftop.

the downstairs scene still felt like a thick and claustrophobic fog of pretend, but chris knew that if he really wanted to, he could find something real and grounded.

in their car, the triplets like after every ‘stupid fucking party’, talked about their individual experiences. nick as always began. “tara really needs to invite better people cause what the fuck. why’d they all look so judgy when i told them my favourite genre’s pop? after that whenever i tried to talk to them they’d just ignore me, like a bunch of goddamn high status judgmental uglies. like hello?! the music was loud but you’re not fucking deaf!”

“nick, i thought at least you were having a nice time. sam and colby had to leave five minutes after chris asked me to leave. honestly can’t believe i’m saying this but i should’ve listened to the kid. after that, i locked myself in one of the bathrooms and fucking played cheese escape. that’s right.. CHEESE ESCAPE. chris, where the fuck were you?”

before nick could answer, he saw the slight red tint on chris’ face as a cheeky grin was plastered his face. “oh my god, did you fucking hook up with someone?” the shock value was a bit too high for both matt and chris. the car slightly wobbled on the road. “no you fucking idiot i didn’t. i just went to the rooftop after tara told me it’s quiet up there and just scrolled on my phone. that’s why my phone was dead”

“well since you could’ve called me, i say bullshit. but it’s fine. i won’t ask further” said matt as he partially believed his story. nick was weirdly proud that chris finally talked to someone he didn’t know at a party, all by himself.

after a short thirty seconds of quiet, chris started blabbering about playing a song before he forgot the name. “oh my god, stop saying the fucking name of the song and just play it you brain-dead moron” scolded nick cause kid was morphing into a monkey while matt was on a highway.

chris finally opened apple music on his currently charging phone. he started playing a song called, ‘no. 1 party anthem’.

#sturniolo blurb #fanfic #matt sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x reader #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo x reader #nicolas sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nick sturniolo #matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #chris sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo

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chibieggplant · 8 months ago

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Doodles ~ Part 3

Trafalgar Law soulmate au | Imagine a magical connection between you and your soulmate, where everything you write on your arm appears on your soulmate's arm, too.

Part 3/3 | Part One | Part Two

“I…” You could only manage one word at this point; any more words were too hard to get out as you stared at the spot on his arm where the bear doodle previously was. The thought of your soulmate existing was already absurd, and you had long given up on trying to believe. However, this…this was proof. The bear doodle, exact, no room for misinterpretation. You were so shocked you could barely even speak at all as you remained still. All you could do was stare forward as your eyes moved to meet his.

Law looked at you, and as soon as he spotted your shock, he instantly understood what you were feeling. After all, his reaction was the same. Law was practically dumbfounded as the realisation hit him. Yet he also felt like the most idiotic person in the entire world. He never wrote back. Not once. Now that his soulmate was right in front of him, he felt both delighted and upset at himself as he continued to stare at you. He was feeling all kinds of emotions all at once. Joy, shock, fear, and so much more that he couldn’t even think of a name for. He felt so happy, yet so stupid; so relieved yet so scared.

Law couldn’t take his eyes off you despite part of him wanting to run away. He could see you trying to process everything as it came flooding in after years of silence. He felt terrible, awful. At this moment, he felt like an idiot for not writing back to you. His feelings were just as chaotic as yours right now. He could barely believe this was real. He had spent an entire decade telling himself he had no time for his soulmate. That he would only bring you trouble; after all that time, it felt surreal to be standing before you, knowing that fate had bound you together.

Law tried to muster up something to say, but it seemed just as challenging for him to speak as it appeared for you. Yet he needed to say something. There was this entire decade’s worth of conversation he needed to make up for. He tried to move his arms, perhaps to hug or touch you in some way, as he felt the need to show you some physical affection after so long, but it was as if they were frozen in place. The next thing he noticed was a tear started to roll down your cheek. His heart froze in his chest at the sight of the tear running down your face. This was what made him break. He could deal with you looking shocked. He could deal with you staring at him blankly. But seeing your tear just sent a spear through him. His vision was becoming blurrier as tears slowly began to fall from his eyes, too. He was a mess, and he suddenly felt so lucky to meet his soulmate finally. He realised he had wasted an entire decade’s opportunity to talk to you. To spend time with you. As this realisation set in, he wanted nothing more than for you to forgive him.

“W-why didn’t you write back?” your voice was full of emotion, and it was hard for you to manage it enough to get the words out. But it had to be said. Your tears quickly turned into a steady stream flowing down your cheeks as you began to break down in your senses. The floodgates had opened, and all the hurt you had felt, all the sadness you had felt and all the pent-up feelings had just been released. Law couldn’t hold it back anymore. He let out a muffled cry as he rushed forward and hugged you as tightly as he could. Law kept his hold tight around you as he buried his head into your shoulder. Your words hurt him. They really hurt him. He didn't want to give you some lame excuse, but the harder he tried to come up with something, the more he realised that his reason was just plain stupid.

“I’m sorry...I’m so sorry…” he said it again and again, his voice slowly becoming even more muffled as he became even more emotional. His heart raced as he remembered all of his own emotions. He was scared. He was scared that you would hate him. Scared that you would never forgive him. Scared to hear your response to his apology. He was scared of…well, a lot of things. He wanted to speak, though; he wanted to explain his stupid behaviour.

Law still couldn’t get the words out, though, as a few more tears streamed down his face. All he could do right now was cling to you as he continued to mutter his apologies. He was scared that you were going to reject him. After a decade of no response, you must despise him. His mind was in a frenzy. It was filled with an ungodly amount of fears and regrets. He hated himself. He should have written back all that time ago. He should have talked to you. He shouldn’t have made you feel so alone. For someone that everyone regarded as intelligent, he felt so stupid. Stupid for not writing back. Stupid for ignoring you. He was foolish for thinking he didn’t have time. Everything just felt so silly and pointless. He was probably the worst soulmate in the entire world. He couldn’t even imagine how much you must hate him for his actions. What a horrible person he was. This is why he never wrote back. He didn't deserve you. He didn't deserve anyone.

Your words sounded broken through muffled sobs as you clung to him and buried your head in his shoulder. “I-i thought you didn’t exist, I-i thought I didn't have anyone…”

Law froze at your words as they hit him like another spear to the heart. The years of silence, the years of false hope. All that wasted time. He was fully aware that he had been thoughtless by disregarding your emotions. But hearing you say it just broke his heart even more. He squeezed you tightly as he tried to suppress his pain. “I’m so sorry…I-”

He was an idiot. He shouldn’t have let this go on so long. He shouldn’t have been so stupid. He should have just listened to his heart and written back. He didn’t want to admit it, but he loved your silly doodles. But he was afraid. He was scared of rejection and convinced that no one could love him. “Please forgive me…I…I…” Law could barely finish. He prayed to every possible god that you could forgive him for his stupidity. He continued to sob into your shoulder, squeezing you as tightly as he could as he repeated his apology. He hoped to god that there was still a chance at forgiveness. He prayed that you could forgive him. Because right now, he could barely stand for how much of an idiot he had been. All this time, he had thought you would be better off without him, so he never wrote back, but all he had done was sabotage himself. He had deprived himself of years' worth of conversations. Years worth of love.

“…I was so afraid you’d hate me, t-that I was…” Law choked out as the last words left his mouth. All the guilt all of the regret came crashing down over him. He felt weak. He felt so damn…stupid. This whole time, he had convinced himself that he was okay with being apart from you. That all of this didn’t matter to him. But at this moment, his whole world came crashing down. You were real. You were his soulmate. And he had made a fool out of himself by avoiding you all these years. He felt sick. He had lost an entire decade of potential happiness all because he was an idiotic, scared little brat. But now, you were real. You were real and in his arms.

“I thought…that I was too broken. I thought that there was no way that you could ever love someone like me. And I was so…” Law broke down again, finally saying the words he had been dying to say all this time. Words he had been denying for a very long time. “I just thought you would deserve someone so much…better…I’d bring you trouble” Law’s grip loosened up slightly, but his arms still wrapped tightly around you as he continued to bury his face into your shoulder. “I…I thought that I didn’t deserve you. I…I‘m not a good person. So, I thought I was doing both of us a favour by not…not writing back. I was going to protect you from myself” He could barely manage to get the words out as fresh tears streamed down his face. It might have seemed like a weak excuse, but it was the truth.

“I-I know I've been the world's biggest idiot, but…the longer I avoided it, the harder it was to write anything. I didn’t even know how I could face you after…after all of this time. I was scared of what you’d say. I thought you’d probably hate-“ His breath hitched. He hated that he had been so afraid. He regretted that he had not given you a chance. He was now aware that as a consequence of this, he might end up losing something he never got the opportunity even to experience.

“It’s okay…” you suddenly said as you held back any more tears, interrupting the torrent of words about to erupt from Law’s mouth. You paused momentarily and leaned back to meet his gaze as you spoke. “It’s okay…you’re here now.”

Law froze as you interrupted him, and those two simple words hit him like a brick to the head. He had been so scared and so worried but...it was okay? You didn’t hate him-no you forgave him. You had found it in you to forgive him even though he had kept away from you for years. Even though he was the one who refused to write you even a single word, you had forgiven him? It was unbelievable. You were still standing there, holding onto him as tightly as he was holding onto you. Law didn't understand. He held onto you with the same intensity, trying to take in the weight of your forgiveness. He was utterly flabbergasted, he shouldn’t have been this surprised. You were just that type of person, you just forgave, and you just accepted. You were a genuine, good person to the very core. It was too much for Law though. He was used to harsh words, not forgiveness. He was used to being hated by most people and not being accepted. He found it difficult to cope with the situation.

Law’s grip loosened slightly, and he began to sob harder. He felt weak, and this was the most weak he had felt in a long time. He was supposed to be strong, but now he was breaking down. He was supposed to be able to take on all of this stress, but he couldn’t. He had no control, and he despised it. “H-how can you?…”Law’s lips were trembling as he tried to get a proper grasp on himself. He couldn’t believe you had forgiven him. Law was supposed to be some irredeemable, evil bastard, yet here he was, having the kindest, most gentle person he had ever known forgive him. He felt his entire body go limp. Tears were pouring down his face at the sudden onslaught of forgiveness. It just all became too much for him. He had been expecting to be hated, hated for the past decade of silence. But it was forgiveness instead. He felt his heart beat rapidly in his chest as he suddenly tightened his grip on you as hard as he could. “W-why are you being so nice to me? I mean, I don't even deserve your kindness…”

“Shhh…” you whispered as your arms wrapped around him as tight as they could. You weren’t going to let him self-deprecate. He’d spent the last decade hating himself and living in regret. You were going to fix that right here, right now. You were going to make sure that he knew what he deserved. And you were going to start by not letting him say any more bad things about himself.

“H-how can you forgive me…after everything? It’s not fair to you…” Law struggled to hold back his emotions as he attempted to protest.

“Because I have spent years believing that I didn't have a soulmate, and now, you're finally here, and it all feels worth it” You gave him a gentle smile as you pulled away slightly and wiped away the last of your tears. You felt like this moment was surreal, and the thought of rejecting him had never even crossed your mind. He was your soulmate, after all.

Law pulled back slightly too, his gaze fixed on you. And when he saw your smile, he felt warmth wash over him. His heartbeat slowed, and he finally felt he could breathe properly again. So this was it. He had finally found what he had been missing all this time - a person whom he could honestly care for and who reciprocated that same level of care. It was more than just a soulmate; it was a connection that had been absent from his life until now. He never even imagined this feeling. It was truly something else. And yet…he spent a decade afraid of this. He spent over a decade avoiding this feeling. He spent so much time, a decade's worth of time, just avoiding something that he always wanted despite telling himself the very concept was absurd. It was unbelievable, and it was downright moronic. But now here he was, with his soulmate. He was so happy, but at the same time, just so full of regret. But he didn’t want to focus on the past anymore. He spent enough time being alone. All that mattered was now.

Law slowly loosened up as his grip on you also loosened. He let out a deep, long sigh. he felt tired, but in the best way possible. It had been so long since he had felt this calm, this…serenity. His heart rate was finally stabilising, and though his breathing was still heavy, he was finally recovering. He took a gentle hold of your hand. He looked into your eyes and smiled. Law was finally done with it; he was finally done with letting the past rule him. He was finally done with letting his insecurities control him, and he was finally done letting the fear of others influence his every action. With this realisation came an entirely genuine smile. He had never really given much thought to his expression, but now it was the most genuine smile he had ever worn. It wasn't fake or forced. It was his natural smile, and he was finally free to let that be. The wave of relief and catharsis he had felt washed over him. It was the best feeling in the entire world...

Law continued to stare into your eyes as he lightly squeezed her hand. He felt at peace. At peace with himself, and at peace with life. Life didn't seem so cruel anymore, and neither did he. He was ready for anything life threw at him now. He just needed to know that you would stick around with him through all of it. Law gently squeezed your hand one more time before he spoke. He was never usually the talkative or the emotional type, but this whole interaction had brought those qualities straight to the surface. Now, he didn't mind talking just a bit more. He wanted to. “y/n…I…I have to ask…”

You smiled and nodded your head reassuringly. There was nothing he could say that would be off-limits. Law could ask you anything he wanted to ask. You had to know his heart before you went any further, right?

He looked you in the eyes as he took a deep breath before continuing. “y/n, could…could you really learn to love me despite all of this? Despite all of the stupid, idiotic actions I've made?” Law was almost afraid of the answer you might give. Would you still care about him if you knew even half the horrible things he had done? And what about everything else about him? What about his past? His personality? His actions? Everything about him was a mess. But…you were his soulmate, weren't you? So, if anyone had the potential to love him for who he was, it would be you.

You already knew the answer to his question, but you took a moment to consider the most effective way to express it. Eventually, you just decided to answer with complete honesty. “…I’ve been waiting years to speak to you. Years to find out who you are…wondering what you look like, what kind of person you are, what your favourite foods are, if you prefer morning or night…” you softly chuckled. “And I would love nothing more than to get to know every little thing about you….” Gently, you whispered your final words, and a faint rosy hue appeared on your cheeks “to fall in love with you…”

Your answer made him smile, and his grip on your hand tightened just the slightest bit. Your words were reassuring, but at the same time, he expected nothing else coming from you. It was a comforting feeling, knowing that someone accepted him. Someone who would even go as far as spending time with him to get to know him. To even consider the possibility of loving him. His cheeks blushed as he felt the warmth wash over his face after hearing your words. “…I-I like onigiri…and I’m more of a night owl than a morning person.” Law softly chuckled; he felt silly, and his cheeks were now a light shade of red. This was all so foreign to him, this light...affection...he could almost get used to it. Law's lips slowly began to form a warm smile. He clasped your hand and softly ran his thumb over your skin. He wasn't sure if you could tell, but this was the happiest he had felt in years.

#one piece #one piece x reader #trafalgar law #trafalgar law x reader #soulmate au

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kombuuuu · 1 year ago

Note

chaotic late night store trips with hobie. like him reaching for things on tall shelves for you, getting lost multiple times to find things, him “borrowing” your favorite snacks for you, just cute couple shit

Late Nights.

Hobie Brown x Fem!Reader

“Love you?” “Don’ sound so sure.”

The jingle of a doorbell interrupted your quiet giggling. The gushing about anything stupid you were doing with your lover getting quieter when the ambience of city streets was lost, stepping inside a large convenience store you and Hobie frequented.

You greeted the store clerk with a loose wave and a sheepish smile, watching as he waved back with a tired smile before Hobie stole your attention again. Crowding over you and slipping a hand around your waist, the level of his tone a whisper when he spoke.

“Stop lookin’ at him. Look a’ me.”

He held a smile on his face, sending it — along with a greeting flick off his fingers— to the store clerk. The attitude contradicting his words.

You grabbed his hand and tugged, walking at a decent speed to the back end of the store, Hobie snickered as you told him off in hushed breath.

“Luv’ it when ya’ demandin’, Babe.”

“Jesus christ Hobie, quiet down!”

—

You had sent him off to go find the laundry detergent. Around 12 minutes ago.

Now he had you going idle by isle, starting at the cleaning supplies — checking every one for the lanky man.

You looked behind the next isle, groaning and snorting to yourself at the man of your subjects. You watched him spin aimlessly in a circle, giving confused looks to the items around him.

He held a large box of laundry powder in his hands, tapping the box rhythmically and bending at the waist. He gave a squint to one of the items and you watched him saunter up next to it, right in front of a worker, and slipped the small item in his sleeve.

He caught a glimpse of you, and winked with a lazy smirk. The sound of your feet tittering against tiled floor alerted the worker of your presence and you gave him an easy smiles, lips forming around a distracting lie as if you had practiced it a million times over.

“Hi! Sorry to bother—,”

“Oh, No stress.” He waved you off and you laughed politely, watching Hobie saunter off, a smug expression on his face.

Your eyes nearly rolled to the back of your head, a scoff playing just behind your tongue — but you refocused, “I was wondering if you could show me where the honey is?,” You laughed sheepishly, feigning obliviousness. Not like you’ve been here a million times or anything. “,I just don’t know which isle to look in, sorry.”

“Oh, again — It’s no bother, Miss.”

He gave you his customer pleasing smile, and started leading you in the direction of the honey, in isle 7 — he said.

When you caught a glimpse of Hobie with his jumper shucked down from its previously fluffed position, enough to hide the pockets of his sweatpants — you averted your eyes once more.

—

“You sly cunt.”

“I ‘ave no clue what you mean, babe.”

You lightly smacked Hobies chest, giving him a stern glare, though, with your lips twitching up into a smile — it really wasn’t very affective.

He twirled away from your attacks, idling the different confections he could chose from, and you promptly gave him a deadpanned look when he flicked his eyes up to the register. He caught your gaze for a second before smirking when his hands slid around your waist, humming to the random pop song playing through the speakers.

Not his tune exactly, but he’d heard it enough times to know the lyrics.

Indoctrination, probably.

“Oi?”

You turned to scan the items, different cans and bottles of whoever-knows-what being ignored by you, until you reached your favourite.

“Yeah?”

His hands squeezed your waist again, and he moved closer beside you, leaning against you lightly.

“Wh— Hobie, behave.”

“I am—…,”

He rubbed small circles over your hips and pulled you slowly, dragging your body closer to his so you were squished up against him.

You tipped your head up, looking at him above you, and he grinned down at you.

“,Just wan’ t’ warm up, y’kno’?”

“Oh, i’m sure.”

You focused back on the drinks, and when you saw your drink of choice, stacked high above all the others — on the top fucking shelf, you sighed exasperated, knowing Hobie would rather hold that shit over your head until the day he died if you asked for help.

Hobie caught onto where you were looking, his smirk only growing wider.

A low hum left his lips and you scoffed, rolling your eyes at him prettily.

You broke off him, and he let you, watching as you reached to the top, begrudgingly bouncing on your tippy-toes, and huffing when your fingers just grazed the drink.

He chuckled, and you continued — your efforts in vain as you even hopped to try and snatch it.

Hobie just watched you, whistling a short wolf whistle to tease as you tried so hard.

“Need help, sugar?”

“No.”

He snorted, quickly approaching behind you and pressing his form over yours. His hips slot nicely against your own.

When people say you fit perfectly with him, you would smile politely — then roll your eyes the moment they turned. But now? when his chest pressed firmly against your back, and the weight of him settled heavily on yours? You might’ve agreed.

“What are you doing?”

“Helping.”

You glared at the poor coke cam in front of you, taking out your embarrassment on the inn once of an inanimate object, subconsciously apologising to it.

Hobie made sure to push up harder against you, laughing under his breath as he muttered a thinly veiled lie.

“Push’t it back, sorry babe.”

You looked up, watching him graze his fingertips slowly along the bottle of your desire, and cursed the way your heart stuck in your throat when he finally closed his hand over it.

He pushed back casually, slipping away from you with practiced ease, and went to search for his own drink — even going as far as to toss your own in the air, and catch it playfully. Like he was bored.

The dumbfounded expression on your face was wiped the moment you got a hold of yourself, taking sure steps quickly towards your partner, while he pretended not to notice you in his peripherals.

“Hobie - Hobart Brown, you little fuck—,”

“,Sorry, sweethear’, im focusin’ ‘ere.”

“Oh my god—,”

“,Lot a choices, y’kno’.”

“I’m gonna beat your ass.”

“Uhuh,” He flicked your forehead and dodged your retaliating punch with a gleeful grin dawning his features, stupidly pretty fling in his eyes.

“,I’ll be sure t’ lay still, maybe you’ll ‘ave a chance.”

You crossed your arms, tipping your head up at him.

“I’d have a chance either way — you just don’t want to admit it.”

“Oh, sugar — lie t’ me, but not t’ yourself too.”

His tone was a sultry tease, expression a mocking pout — you rolled your eyes, the start of fluster making your face warm to touch.

“I’ve never lied ever.”

He snorted, bent to grab at an item, and paused to give you a look.

You gave him one right back.

“Ever.”

He grinned again, and turned away with a shake of his head.

—

BONUS +

“Hobie? Baby did you get the detergent?”

You tipped your head back from your place in the kitchen, looking over at your lover sitting laid back on the couch, watching whatever chic flick he landed on.

He turned his head towards you, looking at the groceries laid out to be put away.

You watched as his face twitched, a small smile fighting its way onto his lips.

“Hobie.”

“Sugar—“

—

BONUS ++

“And this is supposed to make my face softer?”

“It’s a cleanser, baby. It makes you clean.”

You raised your eyebrows, smiling at the brit.

“Hence the name. Cleanser.”

He slanted his eyes, glaring with an amuse of his own.

“I don’ appreciate your tone, love.”

You rubbed the cleanser in soothing circles along the expanse of his cheeks, admiring his high cheeks and perfect bone structure.

“Mm. Be quiet. Works better if you don’t talk.”

He puffed, slouching closer to you.

—

You grabbed a damp face towel, wiping at his face gently.

“Was tha’ true?”

You looked up from his jaw to his eyes, going to pat the excess water from his face.

“What true?”

“The talkin’ thing.”

You laughed abruptly, choking a bit on your own voice.

“No—,” You spoke through your giggles, watching as his face dropped into one of faux offence.

“,—No, that was the most blatant lie—”

Hobie grabbed the towel straight from your hand, whipping it towards your stomach. You only laughed harder.

“You ass’ole!”

“I’m sorry!”

You snatched the towel back off him grabbing his face in your hands again. He softened into a genuine smile, chuckling softly while you quietened down.

“Love you?” You tried, sheepishly trying to rid the remaining giggles.

“Don’ sound so sure.” He jabbed, tone in a light jest.

You snorted, repeating, with a now renewed definite.

“I love you.”

He softened further, hands caressing over your own, and a loving tremble in his bones.

“Love you too, [Name]”

“…You said that so britishly.”

“Give us one damn moment—.”

—

RAHHHHHH LONGER THAN IT WAS SPOSED T BE

also the art you sent im putting it here

anyone know the artist t this 🤭🤭❓⬇️

#hobie x you #hobie x y/n #hobie x reader #hobie brown x reader #spider punk x reader #spider punk #hobie spiderverse #hobie brown atsv #hobie brown #across the spiderverse #hobie my beloved #spiderman across the spiderverse #atsv hobie #hobie brainrot #hobie brown spider punk

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babydollmarauders · 1 year ago

Text

MEDIA MANAGEMENT — JACK HUGHES (23-24 SZN PART 18)

au masterlist

notes: this is short but i needed it out and i’ve been much too busy to write lately and i’m running on very little sleep and can barely keep my eyes open

y/ndevils00

liked by jackhughes, ehaula, and 428,715 others

y/ndevils00 we’re not back

we are SO not back.

but you know who IS back?! MY SEXY ASS, 22 POINT HAVING, COMEBACK GOAL SCORING, SNACK STEALING BOYFRIEND!!

despite the unfortunate 5-3 loss against the dish rags, we did get a few good goals tonight, starting with one from everyone’s favorite previously injured man, JACK ROWDEN HUGHES!!!

babygirl also assisted on Uncle Haula-hoop’s goal (the third and final Devils goal)! and in between those goals, Pally pocket got a goal!!

however, towards the end of first, we were down by one, and despite my strongly worded advisory, coach bark pulled my main man Vitek and let the rags score an empty netter….

anyways! bestie number 1 was wrongfully accused and jailed in the second— his crime? his flow was too nice. not very jail worthy, but the bald bitch from the other team had it out for him.

goodnight and please enjoy the last couple photos i took of my sassy boy toy during his post-game interview where he couldn’t keep his eyes off me— can’t say i blame him 🤭

tagged jackhughes, pally_18, ehaula, and dawson1417

Load more comments

user93 the red m&m in the 3rd pic is sending me 😭

y/ndevils00 give him some respect! he assisted on that goal!

jackhughes i didn’t realize you were saving the cheez-its!

y/ndevils00 they were my work snack! i need food in order to keep my energy to run around the arena!

jackhughes i give you $30 before every game for you to buy snacks??

y/ndevils00 i prefer to use that money for drinky drinks

lhughes_06 that explains so much

dawson1417 he can’t have my hair!

y/ndevils00 baldy should’ve thought about his flow before he shaved his head! i’ll protect your hair!

john.marino97 and how will you do that?

y/ndevils00 @/john.marino97 the same way i get rid of all the men in my dm’s— beat ‘em off with a stick!

jackhughes MEN IN YOUR DM’S????

y/ndevils00 @/jackhughes oh don’t act so surprised! i’m a catch and everyone knows it!

trevorzegras @/jackhughes damn dude, better get a move on with ‘plan alpha-alpha’ before someone snatches up your girl

user66 i love the jack-centric posts! y/n feeds us 🙏

ehaula did you know there’s other players on the team besides your boyfriend?

y/ndevils00 did you know i don’t care about anyone else?

ehaula trust me, i can tell

y/ndevils00 then why are you asking stupid questions you already know the answer to?

ehaula i’m disowning you

y/ndevils00 you can’t do that!

ehaula pretty sure i can!

y/ndevils00 nuh-uh! tell him @/kristen.haula

kristen.haula you can’t disown our niece, Erik!

y/ndevils00 TOLD YOU! NA-NA-NA BOO BOO!

ehaula i can’t believe you’ve wormed your way into my family and won’t leave

dawson1417 yeah, that’s what happens

john.marino97 my mom calls her the daughter she never had

john.marino97 excuse me, where am i?!

y/ndevils00 idk, your couch?

john.marino97 IN THE POST! where am i IN THE POST!

y/ndevils00 oh, you got no points. do better and maybe you’ll be featured

john.marino97 i tried!

y/ndevils00 so try harder?? idk what to tell you

john.marino97 why am i friends with you

y/ndevils00 because i’m hot and funny and smart?

john.marino97 no, that’s not it

user20 poor dawson in the box 😭

_quinnhughes i’ve missed your chaotic energy! can’t wait to see you soon, Dove!!

y/ndevils00 aww! so excited to see you soon huggy! 🥹🤍

jackhughes not once have you said you can’t wait to see me?

lhughes_06 you’ll see your brothers too??

_quinnhughes @/jackhughes @/lhughes_06 okay?

y/ndevils00 @/jackhughes @/lhughes_06 i’m lost on what that has to do with me?

lhughes_06 NOTHING! it has NOTHING to do with you!

y/ndevils00 @/lhughes_06 yeah, so it’s irrelevant

nicohischier i hate not playing, but i won’t lie, i love not being on these posts

y/ndevils00 it’s only a matter of time, captain slut!

#media management au!#media management series <3 #jack hughes #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes fic #jack hughes blurb #nj devils #nhl fic #nhl imagine #faithlynn’s insta edits <3 #faithlynn’s writings <3

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cliosunshine · 8 days ago

Text

𝐎𝐟 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐁𝐚𝐭𝐬 𝐈𝐈𝐈

Jason Todd x dragon trainer!reader

Summary: after a portal mysteriously opened in your world, setting all of your dragons loose, you must find a way to take them all back home before it's too late and before you catch feelings for a certain cute guy in a red helmet

Warnings: none; jason struggles to come to terms with the fact that you and your dragons might actually be harmless

Word count: 4.0k

A/N: third part, yay! I finally got around to finish it. Now that i have more free time, I hope to write and post chapter four by the end of the year lol

You watched in horror at the gun pointed right in front of Pyro, your beloved albeit extremely chaotic and destructive fire dragon.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” You yelped as you raised both of your hands and fully turned towards Jason, the two of you still on Obsidian’s back and in between two building complexes, “Hood, drop the gun. Now.”

Although you didn’t know him at all, you really didn’t want the vigilante sitting behind you to accidentally get the both of you roasted like rotisserie chickens by Pyro’s fire breath.

He scoffed, clearly agitated, his gun still up in the air. You had never been that close to a weapon in your entire life and oh god was it terrifying. You then remembered he actually had two of them strapped on his thighs and gulped nervously.

“What do you mean he melted your bike?” you asked, trying to dissuade the situation. You noticed how Pyro was eyeing Red Hood with a knowing look and that gave you more reason to believe that they had actually met before.

“That asshole came up to me, tried to fire his stupid flames in my direction and then he had to set my building’s garages on fire, melting my bike in the process,” his exasperated tone made you look away, heat spreading across your face in embarrassment at your dragon’s actions. It was like having another adult telling you about something bad your child had done.

You eventually sighed in defeat, “Can you at least lower your gun? We can talk about his whole ordeal later, but right now you’re scaring him,”

You couldn’t see it, but by the way he began laughing humourlessly you knew he had a baffled look on his face.

“I’m scaring him?”

“Yes, very much so”

A beat passed, but he eventually strapped his gun away, definitely giving the dragon a dirty look.

In the meantime, you began taking your lasso out, ready to stand up. As you did so, Pyro understood what that action meant and bolted away, flapping his burgundy scaled wings faster than you had thought imaginable.

Fuck.

“Obi, go!” That was everything you needed to say to make him begin chasing his buddy. He, too, was frustrated by his out-of-pocket behaviour. As you skimmed through the skyscrapers of the city, you felt Hood’s arms snake up your waist again, squeezing you gently. You could feel his gloved fingers twitching against the fabric of your sweater as you leaned forward and planted your hands in between your dragon’s horns, making him fly faster.

It was a tiring game of cat and mouse, but with all the times you had to retrieve Pyro back at home, you were pretty confident in yours and Obsidian’s abilities.

As predicted, the fire dragon’s erratic and impulsive nature led him to an enclosed area, where it seemed the nearest exit for him was by your right. As if sensing it too, Obsidian repositioned himself, so that his wing span could block the exit in its entirety.

Jason watched you as you took the glowing lasso in your hand.

His eyes followed your every move and they widened when you suddenly got up on your feet, your stance incredibly stable for someone who had to balance on a breathing and flying creature that was all scales and ridges, with no flat surface to stabilize themselves on.

“I’m sorry for doing it with you here, too,” you apologised with a focused look toward your target. Jason could only nod as he admired you, his own raging thoughts that were previously aimed at the dragon completely dissipated at the sight of you looking like an off-duty Amazon. The fierce look on your face was something you reserved only to the dragons that were acting out and he hoped to never be on the receiving end of it. It was completely juxtaposed to the very sweet and playful disposition you had shown thus far and he didn’t want the light-hearted banter between the two of you to cease just yet. He still didn’t know whether to trust you or not: this whole situation seemed too ridiculous to be true, yet here you were, swinging your lasso with incredible agility as you remained calm and focused.

If Jason had blinked, he would’ve missed it.

You threw the hoop over the dragon’s head and it swiftly slipped on his neck. Only then did Jason notice how small his head was when compared to the other dragons he had seen. The lack of spikes and red eyes made this one look so uncanny and terrifying that he would’ve been scared if he wasn’t still pissed off about his bike.

“Gotcha,” you put the rope in Obsidian’s mouth and sat back down, careful where to put your feet since you had a guest now.

“I’m sorry about Pyro,” you began to apologize to Jason, who could only look at you, “he’s very impulsive and may or may not have incredible anger issues, which isn’t rare for dragons to have but his are atrocious,”

Jason hummed, his mind elsewhere. That lasso looked too much like Diana’s for his own liking, but he decided not to question it whilst mid-air on your extremely protective dragon’s back.

The ride back was peaceful and you managed to coax some of your more mild-tempered overgrown puppies to follow you. They truly did resemble dogs, those ones, with their tails wagging side to side and curiously eyeing Jason.

So, from what he figured by analysing the situation and these creatures, he just had to have the worst luck in the entire universe to meet and irate the deranged and feral one.

He huffed a laugh that seemed to turn your gaze onto him.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothin’,” he shrugged, “just thinking about how, out of all the Tolkien-esque creatures you have, I had to piss off the clearly mentally unstable one”

You shushed him, a mix of shock and amusement in your face.

“Don’t talk about Pyro like that! He’s a troubled boy…he’s been through a lot and is still recovering,” you said as you looked towards him: he was now engaging in a one-sided game of tug war with Obi, who was clearly not having none of it by the way he puffed smoke in the younger dragon’s face as a warning.

You could only huff, some strands of hair on your face lifting up in the process.

It didn’t even feel like Jason was flying above Gotham’s skyline. With the easy conversation and the effortless way you were talking with him, he eased up as if the two of you were just taking a stroll in a park, like you had just done moments ago.

Before he knew it, you had reached the manor and hopped off Obsidian’s back.

There, all of the people residing in it were in the garden, watching the two of you approach them. Alfred’s eyes widened ever so subtly and Jason barked out a laugh as he took his helmet off and walking up to him.

“Hey, Alfred, I’m sorry but those guys there have destroyed half of your topiary,” he said as he rested a hand on the older man’s shoulder.

“I see,” said the butler with a slightly unamused look on his face, “I hope you successfully retrieved every ingredient for Goliath’s compress. Master Damian hasn’t stopped blaming himself for his skin rash since your departure,”

“I’ve got everything I need, Alfred!”

The two men turned around at the sound of your voice. You had just finished talking to Bruce, informing him that only two dragons were left to catch and that they would eventually follow the scent of the pack and come back without a fuss.

“Very well then, miss,” and with that you approached Damian, who was petting and consoling a rather shy and trembling Goliath, clearly agitated by whatever he was looking at behind your back.

You followed his gaze and laughed as you saw 14 dragons staring back with great curiosity and caution at the big ball of red fur. Now that he thought about it, Goliath sure was a strange dragon: he was significantly smaller than any of yours and was covered in bright red fur, whereas all you dragons sported muted colours and had scaled bodies, more often than not adorned with spikes.

You cooed at him, getting closer at the creature. Managing to crush every ingredient into a green mush, you began to delicately massage it over his worse spots.

Clearly spooked by the cold mixture, Goliath growled at you, snapping his wide mouth mere centimetres from your face and making you jump in surprise.

Before you could apologise and try to calm the dragon down, Obsidian lunged at him with a roar as he pinned the supposed threat to the ground, not letting him go. He puffed smoke in his face, never quite spewing flames out of his mouth. Jason was on alert right away as was everybody else. Even the other dragons grew tense as the watched the scene unravel: some seemed to growl at Goliath with the same protective instinct Obsidian had, whilst others grew shy and retreated behind some of the bigger ones.

“Get your dragon in check, Y/N,” Jason warned, his eyes never leaving the scene in front of him.

He understood why Obsidian lunged at Goliath like that, but he’d be damned before he saw Damian’s most beloved pet get torn to pieces right in front of him.

“What do you think I’m doing?” you quipped back, clearly as agitated as everyone else. Jason almost felt bad for snapping at you, but he truly didn’t know what your intentions were yet and he surely wasn’t going to take any chances.

Everybody watched you carefully as you approached the dragon, whispering something in his ear before Obsidian let go of Goliath’s neck and lowered his head at you. From where they were standing, it seemed like he was almost apologetic.

The more distance grew between Obsidian and Goliath as he retreated back to the rest of the pack, the more everybody, including Jason, seemed to visibly relax.

Here he found another reason not to trust that creature.

You returned your ministrations on Goliath who was still eyeing you warily but let you treat him nonetheless.

Clearing his throat, Damian thanked you before beginning to make his way back to the cave.

“Wait-“ you put and arm out, trying to stop them from walking away so suddenly, “I know that wasn’t the best first impression from Obi. I apologise, but he was just doing what he thought was right at the moment.”

Damian only nodded and Jason raised his brows in surprise at a lack of snarky response from the boy.

“I don’t know where you found him, but Goliath certainly isn’t like any types of dragons I had ever seen before…if you want to, he can come closer to my pack so that they can introduce themselves.”

Damian scanned your face for any signs of malice behind your proposition but after not being able to find any, he accepted. He tried to conceal his excitement at getting his beloved pet to make friends and know more about his kind, but the whole family was quick to catch onto that.

Bruce put a reassuring hand on Damian’s back and encouraged him to walk over them.

One by one, you introduced the dragons to everyone. The light coming from a garden lamp nearby made the creatures less menacing as they looked around curiously, taking in their new surroundings. Helios, the wind dragon and a bunch of other ones where actually pretty chill and very friendly, so much so that they let everybody pet them. Dick appreciated that greatly as he nearly flung himself at a smaller dragon, hugging it. You explained that was a wyvern and her name was Quartz.

“What’s up with their names?”

You looked at Stephanie as you pet Obsidian’s ears, “Oh, we just decided to stick with names that represented either their appearance or abilities,” you explained, “Obi’s completely black, Helios can manipulate and generate wind, Pyro can spew flames out of his mouth-”

Jason grumbled at that, crossing his arms on his chest.

He was the only one who hadn’t gotten closer to the flock. Even Bruce leaned curiously near one of your more relaxed and friendly creatures, not coming too close and definitely analysing its strengths and weaknesses.

Jason scanned his eyes on the scene, before his gaze locked onto yours.

You had a small smile on your lips, your expression unreadable. Were you sizing him up? Were you silently mocking him?

He didn’t like how worked up he got about what you could think of him. He never cared about what other people thought, so why on earth was he now inching closer and closer towards you and Obsidian?

The black dragon only side-eyed him before returning his attention back to Goliath, who was sniffing and ogling his scaled cheeks in interest. Besides him, Damian was talking you ear off about the ice cave he found him in while on a mission.

You nodded with a smile on your face.

“They seem to love them”

You chuckled, “They love the attention and chin scratches, that’s what they love,”

In the distance, you could hear some sirens wailing through the city’s streets.

“Isn’t this whole dragon problem going to mess up your work?”

Jason shrugged, “Not really. All the bad guys that we could get are already in GCPD’s station. If not, they helped scare everyone off, making them barricade in their homes”

Obsidian huffed and you laughed.

“He really doesn’t like me, does he?”

You shook your head in agreement with a laugh.

“He’s just wary of all men. He doesn’t have anything against you, really,” you explained reassuring him, but the way the black dragon was almost mocking him with his challenging eyes told him otherwise.

Jason kept his mouth shut for your sake.

The temperature had dropped significantly and the chilly night seemed to have seeped into everybody’s bones. When you spoke, a cloud of breath vapor came out of your parted lips.

As if one cue, Alfred ushered everybody inside, ignoring their complaints and their claims to be perfectly fine through clattering teeth.

“What about them?”

Bruce glanced back at you and Jason. The dragons were huddled up by your side and were showing signs of sleepiness by drooping their heads.

“We can’t let them out here, B,” interfered Jason, looking at his father, “who knows what sort of crazy stories will circle out tomorrow if they see the very creatures that reigned terror in Gotham the night prior, all cozied up in Wayne manor?”

Bruce gave him a pointed look before composing himself, “they will stay at the batcave with Goliath. I’ve already initiated the dragon protocol when you were gone.”

After tucking your dragons to bed (and after reassuring Obsidian that just one night of not sleeping by your side won’t actively kill him), Alfred showed you the suite guest room before leaving you to yourself. The others had already bid their goodnights and you also met two more members of the vigilante ‘family’, if you could call it that. Oracle and Signal were friendly and showed interest in your occupation, making you promise to introduce them to the flock tomorrow morning.

But now, tossing and turning in your bed after a nice hot shower, sleep didn’t seem like an option for you.

You huffed, clearly frustrated by the weird feeling of emptiness and anxiety that sat heavy in your chest, before completely giving up on getting a nice night of sleep and getting up.

Only clad by a pair of long pyjamas kindly given to you by Alfred, you silently made your way out of your room and into the hallway. The goal was to reach the kitchen to get a glass of water, but as you passed the living room, something outside the large patio windows caught your attention.

It was the broad figure of someone sitting on one of the benches outside. You could barely make out their features due to the lack of lighting, but the familiar green glow you had spotted earlier on was a dead giveaway.

“Can’t sleep?” you ask Hood once you made your way outside and stopped by his right.

He only hummed in response, not glancing up from the ground. He was wearing dark grey sweatpants and a black hoodie with the hood up. His hands were inside the hoodie’s pockets and he sat slightly crouched, like he wanted to make himself smaller.

You tilted your head in curiosity at that.

“Can I sit here? I can’t catch a single ounce of sleep, too,”

He hummed once more, not bothering again to give you a proper answer. You sat down next to him, keeping your distance as you leaned back and gazed up at the sky. You noticed how warm and slightly stuffy it actually was in your room now that you were out here and a light breeze ran past you, raising goosebumps on your cheeks.

You stayed in a comfortable silence for a few minutes before Hood decided to speak up.

“Can I ask you something?”

You turned to him, unable to read his expression and nodded.

“Where did you get that lasso?”

It took you a moment to unfog your mind before you realized what he was referring to. Diana’s lasso.

You shrugged, “It was a gift from a very dear friend of mine,” you answered casually, looking at the man next to you, “Why do you ask?”

He didn’t reply immediately, instead he settled for looking at you as if trying to determine whether you were telling the truth or not, his gaze boring right to your side. He decided on the former and sighed, “I’ve seen that lasso before. Everybody here knows that it belongs to one person and one person only-”

“-Diana Prince?”

You saw the way his eyes widened like saucers and chuckled to yourself, “What? You know her, too?”

He took off his hood, an incredulous look on his face, “Everybody knows her! She’s Wonder Woman, for god’s sake, who doesn’t?”

You shrugged again, feigning ignorance on the matter, “All I know is that one day I happened to help a young Amazon out with her jet and taught her how to ride on Obsidian and before she left, she gifted me her lasso,” you explained with a small smile on your face, “she said it would be the only thing that could possibly be able to keep an animal as cunning as a dragon at bay, and wouldn’t you like to know, it’s true!”

The look on Hood’s face was causing you to let another laugh out but you contained yourself. There were clearly gears turning in his head and you patiently waited for the next question you knew was to follow.

The man ran a hand across his face, now fully alert and frustrated with this new piece of information he was provided with.

“But- How did she- …You know?”

“Beats me,” you say sincerely, shaking your head in your own disbelief, “she said she was on a mission with her team someplace near their headquarter that apparently is in space? I was so confused but decided not to prod her on that. She was distressed but told me a portal opened, just like the one I came here in,” you rubbed your neck as you tried to remember what Diana had told you many years ago.

Your eyes lit up as a memory resurfaced. Hood straightened up immediately.

“She said some doctor or professor was trying to prove the string theory was real and went mad? I don’t remember the name, but she said it was someone her team had been dealing with on a regular basis…what was his name,” you looked up to the sky with a pout, as if hoping the stars would give you the piece of information you were missing.

“Was it Mr. Freeze?” Hood began asking, nearly at the edge of the bench with how much he got worked up in such a small window of time, “Or maybe doctor Death? – he was probably in Arkham when the first incident happened though – What about Professor Milo-”

You jumped as you clasped your hands in recognition, “Yes, that one! Milo!”

Hood looked relieved but then his face fell again, “Milo’s been dead for the past three years,” he huffed out, crossing his arms on his chest and leaning back.

“Oh…maybe someone who would continue his legacy or that had the same manic tendencies? Maybe someone who could dwell in sorcery of some kind?”

He seemed to contemplate your words with a slight nod, “I’ll look into it tomorrow after I tell B and the rest”

You muttered an ok and silence fell again between you once more.

“So, you’re not planning on attacking us with your flock of dragons?”

You laughed right at his face as you leaned back, holding your stomach, “You sure are a funny guy, Hood,” you said with a smile, “if those really were my intentions, the city would have been reduced to ashes hours ago.”

He nodded once, “Good, ok…”

“Come on, you can ask me whatever question has been bugging you from the moment I first stepped foot in this place,” you encouraged him, tilting your head to the side.

He seemed to hesitate before he turned to you with a sheepish smile, “It’s just that- you know…dragons? Really? They seem like they shouldn’t even exist with the way they look! – no offence to them or you for that matter, but-”

“What about Goliath?”

“Goliath’s different. He’s way smaller, for starters, but he was also found by Damian during one of his missions, when he came across a tomb of some ancient kings…he’s family, and he really acts like an overgrown puppy,”

You hummed in agreement, “And you think my babies are too feral and only capable of destroying everything they touch?”

“…Yes?”

“If you just hate Obsidian and Pyro you can say so, you know. I won’t get offended; I know they’re a handful.”

The man puffed out his cheeks as he looked away, “I’m still mad about my bike, that’s all…and your dragon is a jerk-”

You gasped at that.

“No, he’s not! Is he very territorial and does he hate all men that come too close to him? Yes, but look at you! You managed to get on his back,” you exaggerated stupor with your hands, “No man’s ever managed to do that before, just so you know,” you smiled playfully as you nudged him with your shoulder, “if anything, I think you can’t stand each other because you two have the same temperament.”

“I am nothing like that moron of a dragon-”

“Stop calling Obsidian names!”

“I’m not calling him anything. I simply deal in facts.”

You snorted at that. The chilly breeze that covered your body in goosebumps was seemingly forgotten as you shook your head in disbelief at his word.

Laugher was shared and the tension on Hood’s shoulders seemed to subdue the more you spent talking out there in the cold.

Another chill ran through you that you couldn’t ignore and you quickly got up, “I’m freezing my ass off here. I’m sorry, Hood, but I must go back before I die of hypothermia-”

“Jason.”

You stilled as if you got struck by lightning. With your mouth still open, you managed to mutter out a Sorry what? To the amused man sitting in front of you.

“My name. It’s Jason. You can drop ‘Hood’…we were keeping our names private in case you had heard of us from somewhere,”

“Oh, yeah. Right, Jason- Uhm, I’m Y/N”

“I know that, you told me back at the botanic garden,”

“Ah, yes,”

You didn’t know why, but knowing Jason’s name sent you into short circuit for a minute. You didn’t expect him to do such a thing, yet again you mulled over how many things didn’t go as expected in just a single night, so you silently accepted it.

“You want to join me on the couch? We can drink some tea and watch something on the tv to pass time?”

His only response was a nod with a smile and you both stepped back inside the manor, now knowing something more about each other.

#jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #jason todd x y/n #jason todd fic #jason todd x dragon trainer!reader #Of Dragons and Bats

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forestwitchontheroad · 4 months ago

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Billford Analysis!

Chapter two: Bill Cipher and his failed plan of taking advantage of Ford's naivety or the path from pawn to something more.

chapter 1

this chapter will be the smallest since there is no direct data on what our triangle felt and thought during this period of time before his plan was revealed. the main source that I dare to refer to are Bill's quotes in Ford's Journals with his personal notes regarding meetings with Bill, which will have to be deciphered from a loving and sometimes too exalted haze to such a chaotic and cruel creature as Bill Cipher.

at first, Bill jokes a lot and is completely not serious about Ford, mixing his condescension with forced lies. maybe his obvious fatigue is reflected here after so many unsuccessful attempts to get humans to build a portal, maybe he initially realized how much Ford is a complex person with low self-esteem and loneliness, which is why he can not try to control his behavior at all.

however, the very first step of a change is that Ford is joking in response. unlike all the other humans Bill tried to deceive and who treated Cipher seriously and cautiously, Ford tries to copy the style of the demon's jokes, which obviously flatters him very much. I even think he was flattered by this little inconspicuous fact more than the blind adoration he had met before.

however, at this stage, Ford for Bill remains something on the level of a non-irritating pet, who is not stupid but naive in his attempts to please. the tattoo, which he asked Ford to fill, serves as an example that Bill sees Ford, first of all, as a thing that has become dear to him only due to its undeniable value in the construction of the portal.

but then, under the influence of the presence of the foolishly genius Ford, who had no distractions to slow down in his work on the portal, Bill begins to allow himself to behave more naturally in his manner - he does not restrain himself from doing terrible things, lifting Ford a gift in the form of an inscription of dead rats. he offered a drink, like to one of his interdimensional criminals-buddies, and, judging by Ford's crooked notes after that fateful night, Bill liked the night, too. at this point, the line between a funny toy and a friend begins to slowly but surely fade.

then, when Bill told about his destroyed dimension, he completely does not restrain himself in the whole dialog - he directly talks about the possibility of eating his twin brother, mentions the Time Baby, although then immediately changes the subject and then does the incredible - shows Ford, only a human he is using for his own gains, the last atoms of his home dimension, what he didn't do with any of his friends from the gang of intergalactic criminals.

one of the reasons why Bill did this, I think, was relaxation and sincerity. Bill is always relaxed and behaves as he wants. that's obvious. however, his gang perceives him above them - they know what kind of monster he can be and what he can do to them for the slightest mistake, which is why they can lie to him for their own good.

and Ford is sincere. he completely trusts Bill, and this trust is felt in the assertiveness in questions, in retaliatory jokes, in excitement and emotionality, which Bill had previously met in humans, mostly only in a negative way.

for a borderline immortal being, blind adoration, sincerity, and human trust as an equal create such a crazy cocktail that the demon of dreams can not refuse it.

and when all this strong whirlwind of emotions and devotion is directed not at Bill, but at Fiddleford, it annoys him if to use very soft words to describe it. insults towards Fiddleford slip through his speech without filters, and not only because Ford may slow down in building the portal, not at all, because Cipher is already confident in him.

Bill at this moment, and also in the case of the Axolotl, is very jealous. he is so jealous that he tells Ford not to trust anyone, naturally implying himself as an exception. the very possibility that Ford can spend his emotions and experiences on other people seems dangerous to Cipher in losing this bubble of security and honesty, where he can be himself and not see constant fear of others.

concluding this short chapter with spatial reasoning, it is difficult to say where Bill drew or whether he even unconsciously drew the line between a close friend and a living toy when he thought about Ford. however, at this point in time, it can be said for sure that Bill was not in love and did not have similar feelings for Ford at all. Bill appreciated their secluded bubble, where everything was fine. he appreciated communication and a perfect plan.

but this value consisted solely in the desire to possess and nothing more. however, this most zealous craving to own the illusion of stability became the basis for the emergence of a strange attachment in the future, or rather, its full realization.

#billford #gravity falls #stanford pines #gravity falls analysis #gravityfalls #bill cipher #the book of bill

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tumbleweed-writes · 9 months ago

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Death and the Lady: Chapter Four

Previous chapter found HERE

This chapter is slightly nsfw. So, 18+ only.

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Chapter Four: An Arrangement

Deputy David Hale usually didn’t make Y/N Y/L/N feel any sense of anxiety. To be honest, most of the time she was around him she just felt a little annoyed.

Her past interactions with the Charming police were a mixed bag.

Back when she’d been going through her wild phase with SAMCRO her interactions with the local police usually ended with her in handcuffs. Now that she was back in town and operating as a local funeral director, her interactions with the police tended to involve making arrangements for police escorts for funeral processions.

To be honest her feelings towards Charming’s local P.D. were quite conflicted given her past indiscretions…and her current ones.

She’d always found Deputy Hale to be arrogant and just a little too self righteous for comfort.

David Hale had been in the same grade as both her brother, Jax Teller and Opie Winston when she’d been growing up. All four guys had been five years older than her, so they’d not really interacted outside of the interactions all three men had shared with her older brother.

Of course, that had changed once she’d gotten older and her brother had his accident. After that her interactions with Hale weren’t pleasant and her interactions with Jax and Opie were chaotic.

Before the accident, her elder brother had been childhood friends with Deputy Hale all the way up until middle school when it had become obvious that her brother was finding new friendships with Jax and Opie.

It had become clear that David disapproved of Daniel Y/L/N’s newfound friendships.

Even as a teenager, Hale seemed to carry around the notion that he was superior to the kids of Charming’s white trash biker gang.

Y/N had gotten a certain level of respect from Hale as had her brother as their father was a respected member of the community…well they’d gotten respect before they’d rebelled and proved they were comfortable interacting with the white trash biker gang.

Hale himself came from one of the more affluent families in Charming. Generations of the Hales were politicians, lawyers, and doctors.

David Hale had seemed to believe that his family background meant that he was somehow far better than the new friends Daniel Y/L/N had acquired.

In Y/N’s opinion the Hales were nothing special. Everyone was equal in death after all. She had very little tolerance for people who tried to pretend they were somehow more important than anyone else. She didn’t care for snobbish people especially when she knew they’d wind up on her embalming table right where the same people they’d looked down upon had laid as well.

From what she could remember David Hale had been the All-American boy. He was the kind of guy who knew he wanted to grow up and serve the community. He was a boy scout. He played baseball in the spring and summer and football in the fall for the local high school. He attended church on Sunday and volunteered at the nursing home as a teen.

She guessed she shouldn’t be shocked that even as a man in his thirties David Hale was still just as pious as he’d always been.

If this had been any other scenario she’d almost find it funny to find that Hale had maintained the same short hair cut he’d had since he was a teenager. She’d always thought it made him appear a little boring especially when they’d been teens. Wasn’t being a teen the time where you did stupid crap to your hair after all?

Standing near the Deputy sheriff, a few other members of Charming PD’s finest, and a borrowed modest forensic unit from Lodi near an open grave made her feel less than amused at the moment though.

She’d felt sick to her stomach when she’d received the call early this morning that another grave in Charming’s cemetery had been robbed. This was the second one within such a short time period.

Both graves had previously been occupied by men she had buried and embalmed. She’d been asked to come out by the Deputy and at least give her insight on what had happened.

She hoped and prayed that the look of astonishment on her face, as she arrived at the cemetery, read as someone who was simply horrified by the situation and not at all aware of exactly who was responsible for this.

She gazed down into the empty casket both astounded and relieved to see that the sacks of dry concrete she’d filled the casket with were long gone.

It seemed that whoever had done this had been smart enough to make it appear as though she’d buried a body in the casket and not sacks of concrete.

She knew the concrete had been a risk, but it had been necessary for the funeral. A full casket weighed more than an empty one. She’d just been relieved that she was right that the man’s family had no desire to see what laid within the casket.

The man’s funeral had actually been quite sparse. From her interactions with the family regarding funeral arrangements it had seemed that the man had not had many friends in life and wasn’t the kind of guy that warranted a room full of mourners. She hated to talk ill of the dead, but she’d gotten the impression he’d not been the nicest guy.

She hated to admit it but the information had made her feel less guilty about the fact that she’d technically loaned the guy’s body to the local MC.

She knew of course that the thought was a weak attempt to mentally absolve herself from her guilt.

She’d be lying if she tried to claim she hadn't had a few nightmares about what she’d done. Most of the dreams featured her walking through the cemetery at night following a Son who she was sure might be Filip from what she could see through the pitch black night, only to have hands shoot out from the ground below her dragging her down screaming before she could escape.

She’d woken up in cold sweats hyperventilating more times than she cared to admit over the past month.

Y/N didn’t need to be Sigmund Freud or Carl Jung to figure out the symbolism behind such nightmares. Her brain was taunting her both about her guilt over her actions and her newfound involvement with a group of men she’d thought she’d moved on from.

As she stood over the empty grave she was overcome with the notion that she knew just who was likely responsible for the scene in front of her.

Jax and Chibs had apparently not been lying to her when they’d reassured her that the favor she’d done for the club would not lead back to her.

It was clear they had done this to make it appear as though any discovery of the missing bodies was a result of a simple grave robbery and she was the stunned funeral director who genuinely had no idea how such an awful thing could happen.

She took a deep breath feeling a little anxious as she’d watched the one lone forensic scientist who’d come out to investigate, swab the inside of the casket. She knew well enough that the body had resided in the casket at one point.

The man’s father had wanted one view of him in the casket before he’d insisted that a closed casket funeral was exactly what the family wanted.

Any DNA would lead back to the dead man. Bodies did at times leak despite the best efforts to embalm.

She knew if there were any traces of concrete that might have leaked out of those bags she could play it dumb and blame it on the casket manufacturer.

She highly doubted she’d have to play stupid in some interrogation though.

She tried to keep her face neutral as Hale turned to face her he quick to speak. “What do you make of this?”

She kept her voice even hoping it didn’t betray her with any signs of deception as she spoke. “I have no idea. He was there the last time I saw him.”

“And when was that?” Hale replied, gazing at her clearly studying her in a way that made her feel as though she was under a microscope.

She sighed adjusting the light black wool coat she’d worn over her black dress today. Even if this was just to come out and stare at an open grave she knew she had to look like the town’s funeral director. “When I screwed the casket shut before the funeral service. The family made it clear they didn’t want to see him like that. His father asked that the casket be sealed shut in case someone tried to go against the family’s wishes.”

She wasn’t lying. That had been the order she’d been given from the deceased’s father. Although there hadn’t been many mourners it had been clear that those who did attend were part of a somewhat dysfunctional bunch who didn’t seem to get along.

Hale nodded his head placing his hands on his hips, the action making him look all too self-important in her opinion. “Did anyone else have access to the body other than you?”

She sighed nodding her head back at Skeeter who’d recently gotten back in town the night before and seemed clueless as to what he’d come home to. She’d almost felt bad for the guy when he’d found out he’d have to tag along for this little adventure. “Skeeter was out of town. He’s usually the one who helps me set up the final touches on things prior to funerals. Old Charlie helps out a little too, but he’s getting up there. He’s nearing seventy soon. I highly doubt he’s going to start robbing graves when he’s been around this long.”

She paused thinking of the old man who was her father’s longest associate. Charles Olsen or Old Charlie as he insisted on being called, had developed a limp from arthritis but that didn’t stop him from doing a few of the more labor intensive jobs around the funeral home. He’d been a practical partner to her father in the business at one point, but he insisted his days of embalming were behind him as his body was beginning to feel worn with age. He had a harder time being up on his feet for the amount of time it took to embalm.

Of course that didn’t stop him from wanting to help out in other ways. He’d always been fond of her and she guessed he felt he owed it to her late father to help out any way he could. He’d practically watched Y/N grow up. He'd always been there. He'd been loyal to her father and now he was loyal to her.

She was always willing to treat him well in exchange for his loyalty. Lord knows with the financial struggles she’d had, Old Charlie and Skeeter both could have found better jobs by now with funeral homes that were doing much better.

Her way of appreciating the loyalty tended to be shared bits of casserole she’d made for dinner and the occasional bought lunch or dinner especially if they had to be out late for a body pick up.

She spoke again, shrugging her shoulders hoping she sounded honest. “The only other people who had access to the decedent were the gravediggers hired by the city.”

Hale let out a huff seemingly disappointed that she didn’t provide him with any information that could break the case. He spoke up nodding at the empty casket. “Have you ever seen anything like this?”

She sighed, being honest this time around. “A couple of times. It’s not a common occurrence. I saw it once or twice back in New York. Usually it’s old graves that are hit though…usually just edgy teens breaking into a crypt to steal a skull or something.”

She paused, shaking her head. “People are sick.”

“That they are. The deceased was found in Lodi, along with the other occupant of that first grave that was robbed…looks like someone used them to stage a crime scene. Doesn't seem odd to you that it took this long for someone to notice that this grave was disturbed. The cemetery groundskeeper spotted that first disturbed grave pretty quickly.” Hale remarked he once again seemingly studying her.

She frowned, not liking that he was clearly watching her as though he was awaiting some kind of tell that she knew more than she did. She pushed back the thought telling herself that she was being paranoid.

“You don’t say? That’s something new. I can't say it seems odd, in my professional opinion. This is an older section of the cemetery, so less mourners. The deceased's family lives a few cities over, so I imagine they haven't been out to the site since the burial. I'm sure if anyone passed this one by they may have assumed that it was just an empty grave for an upcoming burial. In my experience deputy, most people don't peek into empty graves. So, they wouldn't have spotted the empty casket. Plus, the city only does landscaping in the cemetery every couple of months...Seems reasonable to me to think this could have sat unnoticed this long. I can't believe someone would go to all that trouble just to stage a crime scene. Who’d do such a thing?” She remarked, almost proud of herself for being able to conjure up the shock.

She knew her reaction was genuine of course. It wasn’t as though SAMCRO had let her in on their intentions for the bodies they’d requested from her.

Hale let out a small scoff he fast to reply. “I have my suspicions of who might be the culprits.”

She raised a well manicured brow tilting her head to the side playing dumb. “I'm safe to assume it’s confidential information? Given the obvious investigation and all.”

Hale practically glared straight through her, he fast to respond. “It’s out of my jurisdiction. Lodi P.D. doesn't seem to be interested in what I have to say. As far as they’re concerned this is some sick prank done by some very disturbed individuals. They’re looking into a few suspects of their own…local freaks who’ve been caught loitering around cemeteries in their area.”

She nodded her head trying not to show relief that Lodi’s police weren’t interested in any of Hale’s input. “I hope they find the responsible parties. Things like this are bad for business. I can’t have the bereaved of Charming fearing their loved ones are going to yanked from their final rests. Something like this has the opportunity to sow chaos and paranoia. I’m sure you’d agree.”

Hale sent her a look that could only be described as stern, his lips tight and his eyes narrowed. “Yeah, bad for business.”

He paused, deciding to push a little more. “Speaking of the business. How is that going?”

Y/N pushed a stray bit of hair behind her ear, the bit of hair having managed to work itself loose from the twist she’d put her hair into this morning. “It’s going. It’s been a challenge. My father’s health left a few things around the funeral home in disarray. I think it’s turning around though. Business has been good lately.”

“And how is your brother?” Hale dared to ask watching Y/N straighten out her dress under her coat.

She resisted the urge to glare at him, her brother not entirely a favorite subject of hers to discuss. “He’s fine. He’s started new meds.”

She spoke again, a sigh leaving her. “Is that all you needed, Deputy? I should get back to the funeral home. I have a few phone calls to make regarding this entire mess. The family has already left me a few voicemails I’m sure. I need to do damage control and promise that I will either rebury their loved ones or help them transfer their business to a new funeral home if they desire once the bodies are released back to the families.”

She knew it wasn’t a lie. She was so not looking forward to those phone calls. She was sure she’d be refunding some money so that she didn’t get sued though she had a feeling the families would more likely sue the city given they were in charge of the cemetery and she’d done her part on burying the dead as far as anyone knew.

“Of course, I do have some concerns though.” Hale replied, deciding to push a little harder.

She cleared her throat hoping any annoyance she showed was more over this situation than the practical interrogation she was enduring. “Yes?”

He spoke knowing she’d probably bite his head off for this. “I know before you left town you weren’t exactly on the straightened arrow Y/N. Am I right in assuming you aren’t going to fall back into any old habits?”

She glared at him, her voice tense and sharp. “I don’t feel that this is an appropriate line of questioning, Deputy. My past is exactly that, in the past. I’ve not gotten as much as a speeding ticket for almost ten years now. My behavior as a teen and in the first year of my twenties is not at all reflective of my conduct as a grown woman. I don’t appreciate being treated like a common criminal especially when my biggest sins consist of underage drinking and some mild misdemeanors. I have worked very hard to clean up my act. I highly doubt it’s the local P.D.’s job to go around condemning innocent citizens for past misbehaviors. If that’s the case then you need to go down and arrest George Goldstein for spray painting the water tower when he was sixteen and maybe arrest Judy Mitchell for the pot she was busted with when she was fifteen.”

She cringed a bit knowing she sounded defensive but she couldn’t stop herself. She couldn’t believe he’d had the audacity.

Though a voice in the back of her head told her he was right to have the audacity. After all, she’d made contact with the very people who’d encouraged her bad behaviors back then.

She had done far worse now than some underage drinking and a few public nuisance charges.

Hale held his hands up in defeat he quick to reply. “I don’t mean any offense Y/N. I promise. I just had to ask. I am happy to have you back in town, especially seeing as you seem to have matured since I last saw you. I’m happy to see you’ve cleaned up your act. Your association with Jax Teller and SAMCRO did always trouble me, given our history.”

She scoffed quick to reply. “We don’t have a history Deputy. You hanging around my brother until you guys were thirteen doesn’t create some weird bond between us.”

She paused, taking a deep breath cooling her temper reminding herself that she couldn’t let him get her all riled up. She had to keep her calm and play the role of a totally innocent funeral director who knew nothing about the local MC or what they’d done with those bodies.

She spoke, clearing her throat. “As I’ve said, I need to be going. I have a busy day ahead of me. If you have any further inquiries about these graves please don’t hesitate to reach out. You can reach me at the business number for the funeral home.”

With that she turned leaving Hale behind her not noticing that the deputy did have the sense to look a little browbeaten by her comments.

She clenched her fists as Skeeter opened the door to the transport van , they usually used for body pickups, for her before he got into the driver's seat. It was obvious he was more than sure his boss was too pissed to be behind the wheel of a van.

Skeeter didn’t speak until they left the cemetery property. “Are you as innocent as you proclaim to be?”

“I could ask you the same thing?” She remarked adjusting her seatbelt around her neck , the seatbelt was always sitting too high on her body and cutting into her skin.

Skeeter let out a huff at the comment he fast to reply. “Touche.”

He spoke again, shaking his head. “Do I need to be concerned?”

“About what?” She asked, staring down at her nails making the mental note to get a manicure tomorrow she could use a refresh though she usually just had her nails trimmed and painted with gel polish.

It was a luxury she allowed herself along with the occasional pedicure.

Skeeter sent her a small stern glance fast to respond. “You know what.”

She sighed, rolling her eyes. “I’m fine. Everything is fine.”

Skeeter let out a huff, his hands gripping down on the steering wheel. “That’s what I used to say when I helped out SAMCRO too.”

She felt her stomach drop guilt flooding her, knowing she’d essentially stolen Skeeter’s side gig right out from under him.

She spoke, keeping her voice even and collected. “Everything is fine.”

She paused, shaking her head a small smile crossing her lips though it was weak. “You don’t need to fret over me. I’m a grown woman. I don’t need some man to come along and handle all my problems."

She let out a small laugh fast to speak again. "You know, If I didn’t know better I’d assume your concern meant you were sweet on me.”

Skeeter let out a scoff at the comment, shaking his head a small smile eventually crossing his features. “You aren’t really my type…You’re a little too…”

“A ball buster, a cold hard bitch…oh, a shrew, a C You Next Tuesday with a stick permanently lodged up her ass, a domineering witch with control issues a mile long who must constantly be PMSing. A spooky bitch.” She remarked, the small smile still on her lips remaining she finding humor in poking at her associate about just what kind of reputation she had among the local male population.

Skeeter rolled his eyes quick to reply. “I value my job too much to give any confirmation.”

She chuckled, giving his arm a small pat the words that left her genuine. “And I value you too much as a friend not to be offended by any confirmation.”

Skeeter shook his head as she removed her hand, his voice once again taking a serious tone. “I don’t like you being involved with SAMCRO.”

“What’s good for the gander is good for the goose.” She replied her voice picking up a mild tone of offense over the implication that he was implying that she shouldn’t do anything he might have done.

“I know, I’m a hypocrite for saying it…just be careful Y/N. You aren’t just my boss…I do care about you. I know just where the Sons can lead you.” Skeeter replied, his voice still holding that serious tone. She couldn’t ignore the hint of dread underneath the tone.

She sighed, shaking her head. “I know, I’m being as careful as I can be. I know SAMCRO well enough. I think we’re both aware of my history.”

Skeeter cringed knowing he’d been around during her wild streak. He’d been apprenticing under her father then.

She spoke as she reached out, turning up the air in the car. “We both have our indiscretions, Skeet. Let’s just leave this conversation at that.”

He sighed nodding his head, his voice still so serious. “I know.”

He spoke again, shaking his head as they turned down the road heading towards main street. “I feel bad for saying it, but it's kind of a relief for me…The cash from those favors for SAMCRO, it was a little too dangerous to have in my hands.”

“How’s it going…you avoiding triggers?” She dared to ask, well aware of the man’s gambling problem.

She was always worried it would interfere with his ability to work, but he managed aside from the occasional favor he did for SAMCRO that she was all too aware of.

“It’s going.” was the only response she received.

He glanced over at her needing to say it again. “Just be careful, okay. I don’t want you getting in over your head. Try to learn from my mistakes.”

“I won’t get in over my head. I’ve got it covered. Like I said, everything is fine.” She insisted, uncertain if she was trying to convince him or just trying to convince herself.

—--------------------------------------------------

The news of the empty graves had spread fast and weeks later it was still buzzing around town.

Y/N as the town’s most prominent funeral director was getting sick of the unprompted questions she was being asked by her fellow residents of Charming.

She tried not to grimace as she accepted the fresh cut of skirt steak from the local meat guy at Charming’s biggest grocery store, which honestly wasn’t that big at all.

The butcher who she was sure was named Oscar spoke looking almost giddy to get to grill her for information. “You find out who robbed those graves yet?”

“No, I’m pretty sure Lodi’s police have it covered.” She replied, trying to keep her voice level and hide any signs of irritation.

He spoke all too eager and ditzy enough to keep the questions coming. “I guess you must see a lotta sick stuff at your job though. I mean you hear the stories.”

“What stories?” She asked, widening her eyes slightly giving a false sense of innocence knowing her best course of action was to play dumb and let him maybe reflect on just how inappropriate this all was.

He shifted in place a bit, his cheeks growing dark enough that they almost matched his thinning red hair. “Uh, you know…you hear stories bout folks who wanna dig up corpses for…uh companionship.”

She cringed her stomach turning at the implication he was making. She spoke a tone of disapproval in her voice “I haven’t heard those stories in my line of work. Any reports of…that happening in the industry are greatly exaggerated.”

With that she tossed the meat into her cart turning to leave she still feeling a little queasy about the entire exchange.

She took a deep breath reminding herself that people had all sorts of wild preconceived notions about people who were attracted to her line of work.

She kept her mind focused on her grocery list.

For once it seemed that she actually had the budget to buy more than top ramen and produce.

The payouts from SAMCRO had helped her put money towards a few debts she’d had hanging over her head both relating to her brother’s health issues and improvements her father tried to make around the funeral home.

Her father had spent more than he’d made at one point trying to upkeep the home and now she was left picking up the tab.

Business had picked up as well. It seemed that even with the wild stories flying around about grave robberies that Charming’s residents were willing to use her services.

She’d had enough funerals lately to put some money in her bank account. There had been a car wreck with two casualties, a widow who’d died of a stroke, and most recently some teen had drowned out at a lake up near the Chigger Woods.

She felt bad knowing that people’s losses were her payouts. She knew though that this was the reality of her line of work.

When business was good, that most likely meant someone else was suffering.

She wasn't rolling in money, but she felt like she was close to breaking even. She felt comfortable enough to buy some decent groceries and she felt like she could kind of breathe. She knew she wasn't entirely financially stable, if any surprise expenses came up she might be in trouble. She wasn't fretting over money as much as she'd been though before she'd accepted the Son's payout.

SAMCRO had not come knocking for any more favors. It was something that gave her relief but troubled her.

She wasn’t exactly kicking down her door wanting to see Jax Teller or Tig Trager again, but the absence of SAMCRO after the favor she’d done for them made her feel uneasy.

No one had even shown up to address the obvious grave robberies when both she and they knew just who had done it.

She couldn’t help but to feel a little bitter knowing SAMCRO had disappeared without a trace and had left her to deal with the fallout.

She should have known better by now.

Y/N also had to admit she was missing the presence of a certain Scotsman.

It was a strange realization to have. She barely knew the man aside from the surprisingly pleasant conversation they’d had in the cemetery that night almost a full month before.

As hard as she tried to deny it, she had to admit Filip spiked her curiosity.

She found him contradicting in a way.

He looked rough. She’d be blind to deny it. The scars, the general unkemptness, the intense and clearly dangerous energy surrounding him…it was all parts of him that should send her running in the opposite direction.

He’d seemed so concerned about her that night at the crematorium and the cemetery though. She had a feeling it had something more to do than any worry about her wandering the cemetery after dark. She’d picked up on the implication that he almost seemed to care about how she was coping with everything that had been asked of her. She could remember the little looks he’d sent her throughout the night especially when his brothers said something uncouth. He’d been so quick to make a show of smacking Juice for being so insensitive during the cremation. It almost seemed as though the Scot cared what she thought of him.

Her brain kept flashing back to that conversation they’d had as she was digging a hole for those cremains. It was small talk honestly, but she’d never had small talk with someone about the beauty of the stars.

In a strange way it almost felt like he was trying to connect with her.

She felt absurd for the thought.

A voice in the back of her head told her all men were the same; especially men in the MC.

They classified women into two groups: girls they wanted to fuck and girls who they didn’t want to fuck.

A bitter voice told her that any attention the Scottish Son had given her was more likely him hoping to charm his way into her pants and that she shouldn’t read too deeply into it.

Another little voice piped up that him getting into her pants wasn’t such a horrible thing was it?

She’d been frankly going through a dry spell for a few years now. Her bedroom was quite frigid. Usually she had to seek out a bit of self release for her frustrations.

She had a hard time dating. Most men ran screaming when they realized what she did for a living. Her dating life consisted of men who worked in her industry. Her longest relationship had been with a fellow student during her time at mortuary school. She’d found that her partners disappointed her though. If they didn’t run screaming they just seemed like they didn’t click with her.

The Scotsman didn’t seem to be running…though he’d not contacted her since that night in the cemetery.

Even with the radio silence lately she could remember he’d been quite flirty with her. It had felt different from Jax’s methods of flirtation.

There was something kind of charming about the Scot. His little flirtations had seemed genuine and not just a means to get something out of her. It was so unlike the way the flirtation had always felt with Jax.

She would be a liar if she tried to pretend that the phone conversation the Scotsman and she had about the Son’s use of the cremator that night didn’t send a thrill through her.

It was alarming that the sound of his voice alone and a little pet name like love could pull that reaction from her. She’d tried to deny it but she did feel a certain heat spread through her under his gaze. She was almost certain her clit would throb like a broken tooth just from his gaze and voice alone, and she didn’t want to even think about those dimples or the intensity behind his eyes.

She’d maybe noticed he had nice hands too; sort of elegant as strange as that sounded. He had long fingers and she had to admire the golden biker rings lining them. She had noticed and appreciated the fact this nails were neatly trimmed. In her opinion most guys neglected their nails. There was nothing grosser than dirty fingernails on a guy who expected to shove those fingers in more delicate areas.

The Scotsman’s hands seemed strong and as though they understood a hard day's work. She had to imagine the roughness of his hands might feel incredible against her soft skin.

She found herself distinctly remembering a roommate she’d had for a short while when she’d first moved to New York. The girl had praised the wonders of older men in the bedroom.

She’d remarked that Y/N’s disappointment in the bedroom stemmed from the fact that she was relying on boys to do something a man could do a hell of a lot better.

Y/N had hated to admit it but the comment did seem likely. She’d lost track of the times she’d laid in bed after a sexual encounter and found she’d not reached her end, but her partner had definitely got there all too quickly. It was made worse by the fact that she’d had to fake it so as not to bruise the poor guy’s egos.

She’d not had many partners back in New York, but the few she’d had had been a let down.

A voice claimed that the Scottish Son would not let her down in bed. Filip seemed old enough to have figured out how to please a woman by now.

She groaned, tossing a jar of peanut butter into her cart as she neared the check out lane. She did not need to be going down this road.

She once again mentally scolded herself that Filip was not getting anywhere near her bed nor any other surface for that matter.

She’d outgrown the desire to spread her legs for bad boys on Harleys.

She ignored that obnoxious voice that piped up that Filip was no boy.

Y/N began to drop her items on the conveyor belt at the check out probably a little too harshly but she was tired and annoyed both from questions from seemingly everyone about grave robberies and her own mental dilemma about her feelings towards a certain Scottish Son.

She felt her stomach turn as she heard a voice behind her. “Y/N?”

She turned trying to seem as though she wasn’t ready to have a nervous breakdown as her gaze met the gaze of Dr. Tara Knowles.

She spoke her voice tight hoping the good doctor would read her expression as general sleepiness from errands. “Tara.”

“How are you?” the woman replied clearly happy to catch up.

Y/N cleared her throat placing a bag of spinach on the belt. “I’m well, just busy lately, tired, and you?”

“Same. Though I can’t imagine how stressed you probably are. I don’t blame you for being tired. Don’t worry, I’m not going to ask about the graves…I imagine you’ve been asked enough.” Tara replied the comment soothing Y/N slightly.

She shifted in place as she watched the cashier scan her items, the older woman moving at a snail's pace.

Y/N wasn’t entirely sure if Tara knew about her history with Jax Teller. Tara had been long gone and had left Charming by the time Y/N had begun hanging around SAMCRO.

Y/N was all too aware of the hole Tara had left behind in Jax Teller though.

Y/N had easily realized she had at times operated as a place for Jax to fill that void if only for a short moment. It had become clear from the very few encounters he’d had with her that she wasn’t the woman he wanted underneath him.

Y/N had been upset about it at the time not because she had held any romantic notions for the Prince of SAMCRO, but because she’d allowed herself to be used in that way.

It was one of the many reasons Y/N had pulled from that world.

She almost found it strangely amusing that two women who had both run away from SAMCRO were standing side by side. Two women who were similar in more ways than they realized.

Tara spoke, nodding her head. “I’m sorry to hear about your father. It seems like you’ve got the home running though?”

“I have…I’m sorry about your father as well.” Y/N remarked, still having to admit she wasn’t entirely accustomed to the showings of sympathy when it came to her late father.

The funeral had felt surreal and she’d barely registered the words of the mourners who’d shown their respects.

A small part of her had to wonder if Tara had felt the same about her own father. She almost wanted to ask, but the question felt far too sensitive for old acquaintances.

Tara had been around back then of course, hanging out with Y/N’s brother and Jax and Opie.

Y/N had been younger though, not entirely prone to tagging along with the older kids.

Tara cleared her throat as she responded Y/N placing the divider down between their groceries. “Thank you. It’s strange being back here…it’s like some things are exactly how I left them. I’m sure you know the feeling. I mean, you’re back as well.”

“I am…it does feel like some things about this place exist in a vacuum…things outside change but everything within remains.” Y/N replied having to admit she felt the same in more ways than Tara realized.

Tara cleared her throat again as she spoke, placing her own groceries down on the belt. “I don’t suppose you heard about Jax?”

She raised an eyebrow, paranoia running through her. Why was Tara asking her about the Sons?

Tara spoke again, shaking her head. “I mean, I know you probably haven’t seen him in years…I know Danny was close to us all…before the accident.”

Y/N glared down at the pears as they passed by her on the conveyor belt, the mention of her brother and who he’d been before the accident making her feel terrible. “I know.”

Tara spoke again, smart enough to realize she’d struck a nerve. She seemed eager to get on with it and make sure Y/N knew this wasn’t some way to bring up her brother and make her feel awful. “Uh, Jax is a dad now.”

Y/N widened her eyes at the news, it hitting her like a brick to the head. She never would have suspected. She sighed, shaking her head. “Didn’t even know he got anyone pregnant.”

“His ex wife…she’s in bad shape. It’s not my place to share it, but the baby…Abel, he’s premature. I’ve been taking care of him up at Saint Thomas.” Tara shared she resisted the urge to go into too much detail.

Tara certainly wasn’t going to explain Wendy’s medical history nor the antagonism from Gemma Teller Morrow.

Y/N furrowed her brow at the information. It seemed that things in Charming hadn’t stayed as in a vacuum as Tara and she had been discussing.

She felt a chill run down her spine at the mention of Abel Teller. Her line of work meant she’d taken care of a few premature infants who didn’t make it.

It was a depressing reality about her profession; children died.

She had proven to be quite proficient in dealing with infant and child mortalities. It was something the funeral director she’d apprenticeshiped under in New York had praised her for.

Y/N was capable of providing a nurturing environment to mourn for parents and keeping her wits about her enough to get the job done.

Everyone had a talent. Y/N kind of hated that one of her talents consisted of comforting and tending to bereaved parents and their dead kids.

She spoke hoping and praying that she wouldn’t be attending to Abel Teller. “How is he?...the baby?”

“It was hit and miss at first. Only time will tell.” Tara replied she biting her tongue, resisting to spill her heart to Y/N about everything she was feeling.

She had a feeling it was mostly due to the fact that Y/N was also returning to her hometown after the death of a parent.

Tara had a feeling that Y/N might be able to relate on that issue, even if Y/N’s issue didn’t exactly also include SAMCRO and a history with it.

Y/N cleared her throat as her final item was scanned and it was time to pay. “I hope for his sake that time will do him well. I hope my services won’t be needed.”

Tara felt a chill run down her spine at the comment. She was suddenly reminded that Y/N, as sweet as she looked, could be intense. She guessed it made sense though. Y/N was casual about death as Tara was about surgical procedures.

Y/N sighed as she began to roll her cart away from the register. “I’ll see you around Tara.”

Y/N didn’t wait for a reply, her mind feeling thick and exhaustion peaking up in the deepest parts of her soul.

She just wanted to go home and take a long bath, maybe have some wine.

Little did she know though fate had a different plan.

============================

The Acura started sputtering not long after she left the grocery store. She groaned knowing that this wasn’t an entirely new development.

Given her debts, she had maybe put off car maintenance. She knew it was foolish. She saw the deadly results of poorly maintained vehicles thanks to her job.

It was easier to preach automotive safety when you weren’t broke though.

She grimaced as the car drug it was obvious it wouldn’t make the trip home, and even if it did it wouldn’t make any other trips.

She sighed knowing there was only one automotive shop close enough for her car to make it.

She cringed as she pulled the sputtering vehicle into the lot of TM Auto. She tried to ignore the fact that the automotive lot was located on the same lot as the Sons clubhouse.

It was a place she’d spent far too much time engaging in debauchery almost a decade before. She was too close for comfort to a piece of her past.

Chibs Telford noticed the familiar Acura drag its way into the lot. He moved a little too quickly to approach it.

He felt a giddy sense of excitement hit him at the realization that he’d be seeing Charming’s local funeral director quite soon.

He’d not forgotten his silent pledge to solve the puzzle that was Y/N. It was just that shit with the club had gotten so hectic that he’d not had the time to properly devote to his goals.

He’d debated using the number he’d saved in his flip phone to give her a call, but he’d feared how that interaction would go. Besides what would he say?

He’d been debating his next move while trying to keep his mind focused on the rebuild of the warehouse, issues with the supply of guns from the IRA, and other numerous issues that had landed on SAMCRO’s feet.

He’d be lying if he tried to pretend that she hadn’t been on the back of his mind constantly for almost a month now. He’d even maybe picked up the habit of reading the obituaries in the local paper that was always delivered to TM Auto trying to pretend that he wasn’t searching for the name of her business.

He felt like a man obsessed and knew this action was a sign of his infatuation. He didn’t want to get shit from his brothers about the fact that he’d taken such a liking to their new funeral home connection.

It seemed that fate was throwing him a bone by placing the very woman he’d been thinking about right on his path.

He approached her car, opening the driver's side door, he hoping he sounded as charming as he was attempting to. “Lass, long time no see.”

She peered at him through a pair of oversized sun shades almost tempted to point out that he and his brothers had left her high and dry to deal with their little grave robbing antics.

She held it in though reminding herself she needed these idiots to fix her clearly dying car. “I’m having car trouble.”

She tried not to eye the name embroidered into the work shirt he was wearing: Chibs. So, she guessed not everyone called him Filip.

“Aye, when’s the las’ time ya took it in?” He asked not shying away from jumping into assisting her.

She shrugged her shoulders making a small joke, finding it easier to use humor to deflect how unhappy she was to be back in her old stomping grounds. “You’re supposed to maintain it? I’ve just been putting a post it over the pretty lights on my dash. I find them distracting.”

He rolled his eyes not showing that he found the snark kind of endearing. “I’m guessin’ it’s been a while then.”

She shrugged a sigh leaving her. “The oil has been leaking, but I’ve not had the time to do anything about it.”

She left out the last part of her statement or the funds.

“Aye could be yer head gasket that’s causin’ the oil leaks. The sputterin could be anything from the exhaust system to the spark plugs.” Chibs replied not missing the grimace on her features.

She ran a hand through her hair, a sigh leaving her. All she heard was bills bills bills, more debt to throw into the pot.

He spoke nodding his head. “It’s nothin’ I can’t fix though…might be costly and take some time.”

She cringed, rolling her eyes speaking more to herself than to him. “Great another bill…At least I have the old hearse to get around town. It’s retired from using in the business but my father couldn’t part from it. I guess his packrat tendencies for funeral equipment saved me at least transportation wise.”

“Aye, good thing we gave ya that payout though…should help with the bill.” Chibs remarked not missing the comment about the hearse or her father’s habit of hoarding funeral equipment the information both fascinating and a little worrisome.

She let out a scoff, turning her gaze towards him for only a moment before she stared down at her nails. “I had to invest every last penny of those lovely payouts in my debts. I can probably manage a bill from my legit earnings from work, but if it gets too expensive I might be fucked.”

She sighed not liking the slight hint of pity in his gaze. She spoke once again partially talking to herself working her anxieties out outloud. “I may have to let the stupid car go. I mean people around town already treat me like a pariah…in the most polite, condescending way possible…I may as well just drive a damn hearse in my day to day life. I might as well become a walking talking stereotype of a mortician. Who knows how long the old hearse will last though. I might wind up back here with another ruined car.”

Chibs spoke the words leaving him before he had a chance to stop them. “As far as payment goes…I’m sure we could figure out an arrangement fer a lower bill.”

She frowned another scoff leaving her as she spoke her voice low though she knew the few people within their earshot weren’t paying them any mind. “I’m assuming by arrangement, you mean the next favor I do is on the house.”

Chibs cringed admitting the idea had crossed his mind. He was sure Clay would be delighted to have Y/N owing a favor on the house. Clay would be proud if Chibs came up with a way to get a favor from SAMCRO’s newest asset in exchange for car repairs.

Chibs hated the concept though, it seemed kind of like a dick move. Chibs was no stranger to dick moves, but he wasn’t exactly fond of the idea of using Y/N’s car as a way to coax her into doing another favor for free.

He spoke, pulling a cigarette from the pocket of his work shirt, a sudden idea entering his mind. He had to hope she wouldn’t slap him for presenting it. “Ya could have a date with me. Tha’ coul’ be the arrangement.”

She glared up at him, interpreting the offer completely the wrong way. Her voice rose as she began to chastise him. “I don’t know what Jackson or any of your buddies told you about me, but I am not a club whore, buddy. I am not the kind of girl who spreads her legs in the clubhouse dorm. Fuck you, if you even think I’m sleeping with you in exchange for car work. You can shove that arrangement right up your Scottish ass.”

He stepped back having to admit he was equally mortified, amused, and even a little turned on by her reaction.

He held his hands up in defeat as he cleared up his statement. “I don’ mean a date like that lass. I mean…I wouldn’t turn ya down fer the offer ta sleep with me…I aint askin fer ya in my bed in exchange for autowork though. I may be a prick, but I ain’ that big of a prick.”

He paused, relieved to see that her claws seemed to be retracting. He spoke nodding over at the car. “I’m jus askin fer a chance to take a pretty lass out fer dinner and me fixin her car is jus a bonus.”

She sighed, shaking her head. “Doesn’t make me feel any less like I’m prostituting myself for car repairs.”

He spoke, shaking his head, his hand daring to reach out and caress her arm relieved that she didn’t yank from his touch. “Ya ain’ if it makes ya feel better ya can pay a reduced bill, if it bein' free makes ya feel like shite then I’ll take payment as well as a date.”

She sighed, tempted to once again tell him to shove it up his Scottish ass though a voice in the back of her head perked up that it was a nice backside.

She ignored the warning bells and harsh voice in the back of her mind telling her this was a bad idea. She ignored the voice that told her a date with Chibs would mean she was right back to being the club hangaround.

She stared up at him trying to read if he was absolutely full of shit or not. She had a feeling he was, but not in this instance at least.

What could one date hurt?

“Fine, it's a date. You call me with the plans. You can reach me at my business number.”

He smirked quick to speak. “I already got yer personal cell number love, ya do member our talk awhile back.”

She rolled her eyes wanting to snap that of course she remembered. She was tempted to scold him for saving her number behind her back. She wanted to scold him for a lot of things, some things that weren’t technically even his fault.

She resisted the urge, resigning herself to her fate. The sooner she agreed to this hairbrained date idea the sooner she could go home and take that bath she wanted. “Okay, now can I get someone to give me a ride home…preferably someone with a car…I have groceries in the back of mine that are spoiling as I stand here listening to your nonsense.”

He smirked having to like that she once again had to find a way to give him grief. He found it less annoying and more delightful. It had been a long time since a woman had given him so much crap and he’d genuinely found it appealing.

“Aye, Gemma’ll give ya a ride. Jus’ head into the office let er know yer here with a wrecked car and ya need a ride.” He replied, a joyful feeling settling over him. He had a date with Charming’s resident funeral director.

She cringed at the order not looking forward to coming face to face with the Queen of SAMCRO.

She grabbed her purse from her car refusing to glance back at Chibs even as he spoke that flirty tone clear in his voice. “I’ll call ya tonigh’ with those dinner plans lass.”

She let out a huff wondering how she got herself into these messes lately. Why did SAMCRO insist on making her life more complicated than it needed to be?

#chibs telford #sons of anarchy #chibs sons of anarchy #chibs telford fanfiction #sons of anarchy fanfiction #soa #chibs #Chibs Telford x reader #chibs telfordxreader

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kookidough · 10 months ago

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i know world tour rewrites are probably overdone by now but i wanna see an alenoah world tour rewrite where pretty much everything is the same but (predictably) it changes at/around i see london

so in this rewrite, pre-london, similarly to canon alejandro is flirting with other teams to get them off their game and eliminate them (cough cough bridgette, leshawna, etc) but he thinks it’d be a good idea to flirt with someone on his own team- not to throw them off their game, but to get a closer bond with them and hopefully a steady alliance once merge rolls around. after all, it’s easier to get closer to a team member than an enemy right now.

he’s weighing up his options and he Hates owen, izzy is Insane, and tyler serves no use to him, which leaves noah.. alejandro thinks he’ll be a good choice since while noah is weak he does somewhat try in challenges and he is very smart, so having him as an ally will benefit alejandro, also he genuinely enjoys noah company, viewing him as being on the same level as him in levels of wit/intelligence/humour, so boom it’s settled, noah will be his ally post-merge

anyway back to i see london, the episode goes the same up until the elimination ceremony, alejandro yaps in the confessional about it being unfair that chris let team amazon win since his team were the ones that actually caught the ripper-type guy. he also knows that since he was caught before the challenge even started, he’s probably going home !! so he needs to figure out a way to gaslight gatekeep girlboss everyone and stay in the game

he, like in canon, is of course irritated at noah for talking about him behind his back and thinks about eliminating him, despite previously thinking he’d be a good ally. this is where i diverge fully from canon and say he can’t really risk losing an ally here and maybe, without noah having the influence of anyone else, he’ll be able to turn things around with him. izzy is already gone so if alejandro eliminates owen, then noah will have no other allies and most likely be searching for one, so this is where alejandro can swoop back in and continue to ally with him (while definitely planning to use him for his intelligence and double cross him later as revenge for gossiping about him, and also because alejandro wants to win)

so with 2 votes for ale and 3 votes for owen, the big guy is sent packing and things are playing out the way alejandro wants them to. when he approaches noah for an alliance he’s surprised at how little convincing it takes, and he thinks this plan will be easier than he thought

hoooowever noah is also planning to double cross him and he approaches heather, despite disliking her, because he knows shes currently the only other one that can see through alejandro. he may not like heather but he knows she’s smart and a very capable player and hey, if things go south then it can’t be that hard to get her eliminated, because she’s literally heather

so just . AUFHHR i need this dynamic of noah and alejandro thinking they’re one step ahead of each other and they’ve got each other all figured out but they’re actually both just playing each other’s game and they have all the stupid flirty rival banter while they tango around their feelings for each other it’s great

and they dont even have to be final 2 !!! maybe their plans crumble and they end up voted off and get into some tense aftermath segment and have a very chaotic game of “truth or volcanic eruption” !!

#total drama #total drama world tour #tdwt #td alejandro #td noah #total drama alejandro #total drama noah #alejandro burromuerto #alenoah #there are brief mentions of other characters but i cant be bothered tagging them #i an insane over them i cant #pov bee rambles about alenoah at 1am Again #brainrot…

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mylesstories · 7 months ago

Text

previously on: chaotic stupid

a story with social media/text elements

the friendgroup travel to america for college and meet people while balancing their education with content creation :)

(i’m so bad at summaries but you’re welcome to read it if it sounds even vaguely interesting)

will be mostly in english, but will include other languages (not every language in the character sheets will be used)

#original story #original character #oc story #previously on: chaotic stupid #mylesstories

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milkb0nny · 1 year ago

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okie dokie i gotta request a sam x fem!reader where shes sams age but hits it off with dean? (strictly platonic between d+r) shes just a lot of fun at a karaoke bar or something? or maybe she beats dean in a game of pool(up to you) but just her flirting till she gets to sam and then she actually enjoys talking to him, they spend the night chatting about everything and anything. (maybe she invites him over to her place but like for a movie cuz dean took some blonde chick back to their motel??) idk up to you❤

Pumpkin Soup

Sam Winchester x fem!reader

Summary: While you spent a lovely night at a karaoke bar, playing truth or dare with some people your age, you got to know Dean Winchester. His funny attitude immediately captivated you, wanting you to become closer friends to the chaotic, hot-headed man. Though after a few drinks and games, his brother joined the group. Sam had previously investigated in a current case, decided to enjoy himself afterwards though. That was the moment you met a man who went beyond your expectations. The gentle charm of Sam trapped you in. In order to learn more about Sam, you accepted his offer to cook pumpkin soup at his current place. However, Dean wouldn’t come along the two of you, as he enjoyed the company of another woman. You didn’t mind though…

Note: Thank you for your request! I’m all in for Sam requests, as I really love him a lot. This idea is absolutely wholesome and I decided to throw some autumn vibes into it. After all, it’s October and I love pumpkins. :)

Warnings: implied sexual activity of Dean, reader thinking abt uncomfortable men back in her past

word count: …

As the karaoke bar pulsed with energy on that memorable Friday night, little did you know that a game of truth or dare would lead you to meet two extraordinary men, each with their own captivating charm. You never thought that a harmless party evening could change your life, and especially your view on two specific men.

You had joined a group of people, some of them went to the same college as you and with others you were already familiar. You’re for sure not a mere party girl, but you enjoyed the company of many happy people around you. It wasn’t the alcohol you loved to consume when you went out - it was the exciting thrill of meeting new people who could make your life way more colorful. In all honesty, among all the positive experiences, you crossed paths with uncomfortable men as well. Luckily, this night you got spared with the overly pushy men and instead got blessed by a kind and enthusiastic man.

During a traditional, spirited game of truth or dare, you were more or less forced to flirt with him. Surely, the stranger was handsome, but you didn’t feel any sparkling or tingling sensations while teasing the male. All in all, the atmosphere was electric, filled with a lot of laughter and buzzing music. After about half an hour of people telling others their most embarrassing moments of their lives and participating in surprisingly stupid dares, you decided to grasp some hair. The karaoke bar had a balcony, where you headed with a tequila in your hand. During your hunt for oxygen, a familiar deep voice rang through your ears.

“Hello there, beautiful,” he chimed in, delivering a flirtatious remark that drew a grin from you as you leaned casually on the balcony fence.

“What’s up? Haven’t you got enough of me?” you teased, keeping a watchful eye on him. For a brief moment, you feared he might become pushy, but your concerns were swiftly dispelled by his response.

Dean's striking green eyes traveled up and down your face, revealing a hint of genuine concern that softened his usually confident features.

“No, I haven’t. But in all honesty, I got a little worried since you left the group without telling anyone. Not that anything happens to you”, he replied softly, keeping a respectful distance between you. You were taken aback by his genuine worry, and it made you feel a bit self-conscious, prompting you to avert your gaze from his as you tried to hide your flustered face.

“You don’t have to, I can take care of myself,” you responded, and despite the seemingly cold statement, Dean understood that you valued your independence.

Again, his low voice met your ears, “Your name was y/n, right? You’re hella funny!” Dean changed the topic, offering some comic relief and lightening the atmosphere between you. You quickly picked up on his cues, expressing how his humor had brightened your evening. Your conversation with Dean flowed naturally, and you found his humor and carefree attitude irresistibly magnetic. He had the kind of infectious charisma that could turn any gathering into a wild adventure. Dean Winchester was a captivating mix of chill, cocky, and respectful of boundaries, and it was a rare pleasure to engage in a conversation with no underlying sexual tension. The man’s name was Dean Winchester.

After the private and endearing chat, both of you rejoined the group, which was now deep into the revelry fueled by alcohol and other substances. As the night wore on, a new figure entered the scene, a tall, handsome brunette who immediately gravitated toward you and Dean. He seemed slightly out of place amidst the intoxicated chaos, yet he appeared to find a measure of enjoyment in the surroundings. You quickly learned he was none other than Dean's brother, Sam Winchester. Sam had been previously engrossed in investigating a perplexing case, but now he had decided to take a break and enjoy the evening's festivities. Though he wasn't usually the party type, he occasionally sought a change of pace.

Meeting Sam, you quickly realized he was unlike what you had expected. In stark contrast to his hot-headed and impulsive brother, Sam exuded a gentle charm that immediately captivated you. He spoke thoughtfully, using intriguing vocabulary, and while he seemed a bit reserved and addressed Dean more often, you sensed a hint of shyness in him. His deep, expressive eyes held a sense of mystery, and his warm smile made you feel at ease. Sam was an entirely different kind of captivating, and you couldn't help but want to get to know him better.

„Do you want a drink?“ you inquired, hoping to initiate a connection between the two of you. Dean, ever the flirt, immediately picked up on your subtle intentions and moved on to a new companion who seemed to enjoy his playful company—a blonde woman with a delightful sense of humor. Sam's gaze now lingered on you for a few moments longer than before.

„Sure, I‘m in,“ he replied, a soft smile laced over his lips. You were really beautiful which is why he couldn‘t help but admire your facial features. To Sam, you appeared utterly stunning, surpassing every other woman he had ever come across.

The two of you made your way to the bar, and he ordered his usual: a beer. As you reached for your wallet to pay for your drinks, the courteous man was a step ahead, already covering the tab for both of you. Caught pleasantly off guard, you flashed him a grateful smile. „Thanks. I‘m y/n!“

„My pleasure, call me Sam,“ he inquired, straightening his posture. „Seems like you get along quite well with my brother.“

„Yeah, though he comes off like he only wants that one thing, haha,“ you joked, met by a soft chuckle from Sam‘s side. The corners of his lips curved up as you spoke, and the warmth of his smile sent a swarm of butterflies fluttering in your stomach. Sam was undeniably handsome

Sam picked his brother up again, replying to your statement, „I get what you mean. He occupies the room more enough when we have to share one.“ he admitted, a hint of amusement in his tone.

„Oh, are you like travelers or something?“ You asked, curious about his life. Sam owned such a special charm that you rarely had met in your life, especially in men. His impeccable manners and pure kindness, devoid of ulterior motives, were refreshingly genuine. You couldn't help but feel drawn to him.

„You could say that, yeah. We’re usually on the road for quite some time and finish a job here and there. Similar to freelancers.“

Sam explained, and your eyes widened with excitement. Traveling and exploring new places was a goal you shared, and the idea of their adventurous lifestyle piqued your curiosity. „Woah, that’s cool. Do you see a lot of exciting stuff on the road?“

While he had indeed witnessed many thrilling experiences—some he wished he hadn't—there were times when he longed for a quieter existence. „Uh, yeah. I appreciate staying at a place for a little longer too though, I must say it can get very tiring.“

„Oh, that’s sad to hear,“ you sympathized. Your mind was struck on Sam and he very much seemed like he enjoyed your conversation. The hours passed as you shared funny stories from your past, confessing to your middle school clumsiness while Sam regaled you with amusing anecdotes about Dean. Sharing embarrassing secrets fostered a connection between you two. Somehow you wanted to stay in his company. You started to love his awkwardness little by little.

Unexpectedly, he suggested you both head back to his place to cook pumpkin soup—a proposition you found both intriguing and charming. It was a far cry from the typical advances you'd encountered in the past, and you couldn't resist the chance to spend more time with this enigmatic man. Unfortunately, Dean stopped by, the lovely woman in his arms.

„Well, who do we have here?“ Dean quipped, grinning at Sam. "I'll be taking this wonderful lady with me tonight, just so you know."

„No, Dean. You can‘t always ignore that I share that room too-,“ Sam began to protest before Dean cut him off with a smirk.

„Sure I can.“ He replied, leaving the karaoke bar accompanied by the woman.

Sam sighed, his offer thwarted by his older brother once again. "I'm sorry, I have to—" he started to explain. But this time, your cheerful voice interjected.

„No worries. We can head to my place. I‘m sure you’ll love it there.“ You invited the tall man to your place. You were touched by his charming smile in response. He nodded and stood up, thanking the bartender for his excellent service before following you.

The evening turned into a relaxing, cozy night with a man you never thought could exist so perfectly. The gentle charm of Sam and the promise of getting to know him on a more personal level made you momentarily forget about Dean's absence. There was something undeniably intriguing about the Winchester brothers, and you were eager to explore the depths of Sam's persona, all while cooking a warm and comforting meal together.

Finally, about 3am in the morning, you shared your usual lonely living room with Sam, eating the most delicious pumpkin soup you ever had.

#sam winchester #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester x you #sam x reader #sam x you #supernatural #supernatural dean #supernatural sam #spn fanfic #spn #spnfandom

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