#she rolls up in her ice cream wagon

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This one is from NerdsbianHokie's "Ms. Maggie" series, specifically "astronauts and dinosaurs" but is only a reference to the author's note at the end.

@nerdsbianhokie, I cleaned this up a bit, redid the background from when you've seen this last.

I have something else that needs a question answered. Whether Maggie dressed up with her that year too, or if Alex did her best impression of "if Maggie was a dinosaur"? 😶

Plug for the parent story, "Ms. Maggie" too. It's ridiculous how good this is.

(All links are AO3 restricted links, login required.)

[sleepyparalysisdmon]

Want You Back

If you’d ask Wonwoo if he regrets divorcing his ex wife, he’d normally say no. They’re on good terms and make a great team co-parenting. But there are little things that make him miss what it was like back then. 

Pairing: Wonwoo x female reader

Genres: mostly angst, a little fluff, a little smut, exes to lovers, second chance

Word count: 7k

TW/CW: MDNI, contains smut with no mention of protection. Discussion of unplanned pregnancy, birth complications, postpartum depression, and divorce. I tried to handle these topics delicately, but if they’re sensitive for you, maybe skip this one.

A/N: Wonwoo is so girl dad coded.

On Saturday morning, Wonwoo barely has time to knock on the door before it's flying open and a little body is flinging to his legs. Jieun is five and insists she’s not a baby anymore, but he still leans down and picks her up. She’s got pink, glittery ribbons in her hair and even a little bit of glittery makeup on her eyes and it makes Wonwoo smile. “Hi sweetheart,” he says, kissing her cheek. “Been into Eomma’s makeup?” 

She’s squirming out of his arms as soon as the door is closed behind him. “She did it for me! It’s for our daddy daughter day!”

“Well, I love it,” he says gently. “What did you want to get into?”

Jieun is thinking seriously. He’s seen that face before, but usually not on her. He’s about to get hit with a big ask. “I can’t pick between ice cream or boba. Or the park or the museum.” 

Okay. Not a huge ask. Wonwoo shrugs. “Why not all of it?” This elates Jieun and she’s sprinting for the door. A couple tongue click make her halt when her hand hits the door knob. 

“Shoes and coat, baby. It’s cold out.”

Wonwoo faces his ex wife. Y/N is dressed in comfy clothes for a day at home. Despite the light scolding, she looks entertained by Jieun’s excitement. Y/N smiles at Wonwoo. “She’s been up since 5am, yapping about the day with you.”

Her words aren’t spiteful at all, but sometimes he wishes it was. Maybe he’d know what to do with it then. Wonwoo slaps on a smile to hide his uncertainty. “So that means you’ve been up since 5am,” he says simply. 

Y/N rolls her eyes. “The princess wanted her hair and makeup done.”

“She comes by it naturally,” Wonwoo teases. Y/N has stepped closer to take a pair of sandals from Jieun and replace it with sneakers, but on the way, she shoves at Wonwoo playfully. He can’t help but laugh because he barely rocks on his feet at the force.

Once Jieun’s coat and shoes are in place and she’s been smothered in kisses, Y/N steps back. Wonwoo waits for the typical warning. “Be careful, drive safely, and don’t let her have too much sugar or else none of us will be sleeping tonight. You’re included in that. Call me if you need me.”

Wonwoo nods lightly. He’s never been offended by these reminders because he’s aware some men in his position might be reckless (and that might be the entire reason they’re in his position in the first place).  Y/N’s warnings don’t come from a place of lack of trust, but rather overwhelming concern for Jieun. “I think I got it, but you know you’re my first call. Relax today, okay? You’ve had a long week.” Jieun is tired of their chatting, and tugs hard on his hand towards the door. Wonwoo loads Jieun into the car and then glances back and waves to Y/N one more time before he gets into the car himself. 

~

It was over before it really began. They met at a bookstore approximately seven years ago. Wonwoo was debating on picking up the latest in a series he’d kept up with for years but had kind of fallen off the wagon for, and had even been flipping through the book to help make the decision when he heard a curse from the end of the aisle. He blinked repeatedly because it was clear the curse was directed at him and she was pretty. Really pretty. Y/N had frowned as she approached. “You wouldn’t happen to be buying that, would you? I think it’s the last in stock and I can’t find it anywhere else.” Wonwoo had made his decision pretty quickly after that, handing the book over to her, but not before starting a conversation. 

They’d hit it off quickly. Wonwoo wasn’t the type to ever be described as warm, at least not to someone that didn’t know him well. But Y/N was very warm and it did something to him. He laughed and smiled more. He was more emotional. He grew an appreciation for things he’d never cared much for, if only because he liked seeing her happy. 

And then came the surprise. Within a year of dating, they were pregnant. They were in agreement to keep the child, but they had a hard time agreeing on what things would like in this new life they were catapulting towards. They felt pressured to get married and it only seemed like a reasonable choice at the time. It was a small wedding, if only because Y/N had wanted to do it fast before she started showing much, afraid of the reactions that they might get if she was farther along in a wedding dress. They bought a small house and moved in together. 

The last trimester of pregnancy was Y/N’s personal hell. She was at a high risk for birth complications and no amount of bed rest made her feel better, mentally, physically, or emotionally. Wonwoo did the best he could to comfort her but he felt helpless. And then the birth… It was traumatic and Wonwoo had been asked at one point to make some hard decisions. Ultimately, none of that had mattered because both mother and child recovered quickly after a couple weeks in the hospital. 

But that experience had changed him and he didn’t know how to articulate it. Still didn’t five years later, really. So he was there, but not really. He got up to change the diapers and make the bottles in the middle of the night, but there was an insurmountable distance between him and Y/N. Y/N had been struggling with postpartum depression and was like a zombie most days because of the medications she was on. When Y/N had candidly asked him late one night if he was happy, he’d been honest and said no. 

He didn’t fight her on it when divorce papers were placed in front of him later that year. Jieun wasn’t even a year old yet. It was a peaceful separation because they really felt no bitterness towards each other and wanted to keep it that way for their daughter. Wonwoo eventually moved out to an apartment nearby, but he was present at the home they once shared at least a few times a week. He and Y/N split daycare runs and now elementary school runs. If one parent couldn’t take time off with a sick JIeun, the other would work it out. Somehow they made a better team when they didn’t have to think about what they were to each other. Their connection was Jieun and Wonwoo was fine with that. Most days, anyway. 

~

On Sunday morning, Wonwoo knocks on the door. It’s Y/N that opens it this time and she’s already scolding him to just let himself in because he has a key for a reason, but he shoves an iced coffee in her face. She moves out of the way, taking a sip of it. He can tell she’s judging it. “I know your coffee order, Y/N. I made sure they got it right,” Wonwoo huffs, lugging in a bag of dirty laundry. He hates using the shared laundry room in the dingy basement of his apartment complex and Y/N had insisted he just bring it over here for years. Today he’s taking her up on that offer because the machine here seems to eat fewer socks. The coffee is a bribe in case she’s suddenly changed her mind. Regardless, he starts a load before she can think to argue. 

Y/N slides him a plate of pancakes when he sits at the kitchen island. “Thanks,” he said simply. “Any plans today?” 

Y/N sighs. “I have to go get my car serviced. Check engine light came on a couple days ago and I just haven’t gotten around to it yet. I guess it’s good you’ll be here with Jieun?”

Wonwoo doesn’t glance up at her as he eats. “Leave me your keys. I’ll do it today. But next time, just let me know. We could trade cars for the day while I take it in.”

“Wonwoo, you don’t have to do that,” Y/N insists, frowning at him. She hates to inconvenience him, always has. It drove him up the wall when they were together and it still does from time to time, because she’s never once been an inconvenience. 

He stares at her for a few beats. “I’ll just take your keys, Y/N. I don’t want you or my child in a car that might give you problems.” 

When he’s putting his plate in the dishwasher, a keyring slides across the counter in front of his face. “Tell me how much it is and I’ll pay you back.” He knows she only gave in because he mentioned Jieun. He won’t be telling her how much it is and he hopes she forgets. 

~

It’s Wednesday and it was Wonwoo’s turn to pick up Jieun from school. Y/N is flying down the hall and to the front door and Wonwoo thinks it’s to scoop up Jieun - and it is, at first. When Jieun whines and squirms away from her, Y/N moves onto Wonwoo, gripping his elbows excitedly. “It’s here!” Wonwoo can’t help but raise an eyebrow and smile. The ‘it’ in this situation could be so many things. A cute magnet for the fridge. A new keyboard for her desk. A new blanket with some anime character printed on it. It takes so little to excite Y/N and it’s something that Wonwoo’s always loved. 

He lets her lead him to the dining table where she must have been working today. Her laptop is set up alongside multiple notebooks and a box. She whips something out of the box and puts it two inches from his face. Once he can finally see it, he gleams. “The advanced copies are here?” Y/N is a writer and has published a few works, but this one has been a labor of love that Y/N had asked him to beta read last year before it got sent to her publisher. He thinks she’d be his favorite author even without their previous relationship or shared child.

Y/N is grinning widely. “Yep. Open it!”

Wonwoo gives her a look before flipping a few pages. He knows what’s coming because she’s done it for each printed work so far. The title page is always left blank save for the printed text, because she prefers to sign the dedication page for his copies. Wonwoo’s eyes water a bit behind his glasses because he’s mentioned in this one too, just like the last three, along with a kind handwritten message. He can’t spend too much time looking at it now in front of her but he will later. He closes it and admires the cover. “This is great, Y/N. I’m still buying a copy though.”

Y/N gasps. “Why? You’ve already read it. And you always get the first advanced copy.”

Wonwoo shakes his head in entertainment. “Y/N, I preordered it weeks ago. Another copy is coming either way.”

Y/N huffs. “Wonwoo, what you already do is enough. You don’t have to do that.” 

This is an old fight, one that’s come up every time she’s published something since the divorce. She thinks he still purchases her books because he wants to financially support her in anyway he can. It’s never been about that truly because that’s just a given. He’s just proud of her work and wants tangible reminders of it. Besides, he wants to say none of it is nearly enough. Guilt has been gnawing at him for years that he doesn’t do enough for her and maybe never did. Jieun is sprinting back into the room with a binder and pencil. “Appa, can you help me with my homework?” They drop the argument. 

 ~

It’s Friday and Wonwoo lets himself into the house, apologizing profusely. He got caught up in something at work and it had almost slipped his mind that he had agreed to keep Jieun for the evening while Y/N went out. However, his apology falls on deaf ears because no one is in the living room, or even on the first floor. “Where are you guys?” He yells at the foot of the stairs. ‘Bedroom’ is shouted back, so that’s where he goes. 

He tries not to come in here if he can help it. It doesn’t feel like its his space anymore because it’s not. So he hovers in the doorway of their once shared bedroom and smiles at the sight. Y/N is sitting with her back to the door, but Wonwoo can see that Jieun is the picture of concentration as she puts some blush on Y/N. It draws him into the room further than he normally would dare to go. “What’s happening here?”

Jieun narrows her eyes at him like he’s blowing her careful concentration. “I’m doing Eomma’s makeup for her date.” 

Y/N’s tone is admonishing, as if they’ve already had this discussion. “Ji, it’s not a date. I told you, we’re just getting some dinner as friends.” Her explanation doesn’t matter because Wonwoo refuses to acknowledge how his heart plummeted. It’s been four years. It’s a totally reasonable time to start dating again. 

Jieun doesn’t care for the explanation either, because she’s done with Y/N’s makeup, prancing out of the room. Y/N looks a little embarrassed when she stands up and Wonwoo bites back a laugh. “That bad, huh?” 

“It’s… bright,” he says gently. Y/N huffs, picking up the makeup bag and going into the bathroom. Wonwoo trails her. He feels like he has to say something. He supports Y/N. He always has. He’s happy for her, whatever she chooses. He’s determined to be. “So, a date, huh?”

Y/N’s embarrassed smile sinks a bit in the mirror as she tries to tame the artificial pink on her cheeks. “Not a date… But he’s nice. We met him in the park the other day. Jieun really enjoyed playing with his dog, so we got to chatting.”

“And his name is?” Wonwoo teases, though it kind of burns his tongue.

“Seungcheol. It really is just as friends. It’s what I insisted on,” Y/N presses and it makes Wonwoo shake his head. 

“But you don’t have to. If you want to go on a date with him, you should.” 

They’re staring at each other intensely. He doesn’t understand her. She’s the one that got a lawyer first and started divorce proceedings. So when she frowns and asks, “And you’d be okay with that?” He isn’t sure how to respond. He doesn’t know what kind of answer she’s looking for.  He settles for, “If you’d be happy, then yes,” but it feels unsatisfactory for so many reasons. 

Y/N looks like she wants to say something, but Jieun is yelling about someone being at the door and that she’s not supposed to open it for strangers. Y/N curses, patting her cheeks in the mirror one more time before grabbing her sweater and rushing down the stairs. She doesn’t thank him anymore for taking care of Jieun when she has something to do, mostly because it always leads to an ‘equal parent’ conversation. Another old fight. Wonwoo stays in the kitchen as to not have to face Seungcheol picking her up. He simply yells bye from there and sighs deeply when he hears the door close behind them. 

~

It’s two weeks later on a Saturday. Wonwoo is out with Mingyu for lunch. He’s checked pretty far out of the conversation because he’s made the mistake of mentioning Y/N’s non-date. Mingyu offers to set him up with a friend of his. He promises she’s sweet and funny and reads. When Wonwoo doesn’t react to these promises, it becomes a lecture about moving on and being happy. Wonwoo insists that he is happy, but it falls on deaf ears. 

His phone buzzes violently on the table and he holds up a finger to Mingyu with an apology. “Hey Y/N.” He pointedly ignores Mingyu’s eyes narrowing.

“Appa?” Jieun asks.

Wonwoo frowns. She’s not using an excited ‘steal mom’s phone to call dad and ramble about what happened in the park today’ tone. She sounds so serious that it makes Wonwoo’s gut twist. “Ji, honey. Everything okay?” He tries to keep the tone light, so she’s not afraid to answer. She might clam up if he shows his anxiety and he’s determined to be a person she can go to for help.

“Something’s wrong with Eomma.” Wonwoo’s already standing up to put on his coat. 

“Hold on, baby.” Wonwoo gives a short excuse to Mingyu, who despite his mixed feelings about Y/N does seem concerned. Enough to offer to go with him to help anyway. While Mingyu goes to pay the bill, Wonwoo steps outside. “Tell me about it. What’s wrong?” Wonwoo asks gently.

“I don’t know,” Jieun says worriedly. “She says she doesn’t feel good. I don’t know what to and she won’t tell me.”

Wonwoo all but busts into the house with Mingyu on his tail. Y/N is in the downstairs bathroom vomiting and Jieun is doing her best to comfort her, but she looks incredibly relieved when Wonwoo enters the room. Gently, he guides her to Mingyu and takes her spot. Y/N must be able to tell it’s no longer Jieun rubbing her back and holding her hair after the door closes because she starts crying. She’s always hated being sick, but she hates making Jieun worry more and she was holding it back while Jieun was in the room. Wonwoo knows because he feels the same. 

When she sits back with his help, he doesn’t really think much of her leaning into him. His arm is already around her anyway. “Been a while since we’ve been here, huh?” He teases if only to lighten the mood and get her to stop crying because it’s painful to see. She elbows him weakly. “What was that about?”

“Migraine. I woke up with it. You know how it goes when it gets bad.” 

He does. Between the horrible morning sickness with Jieun and the migraines she suffered from anyway, they’d found themselves just like this on many occasions in this very bathroom floor. 

“Thanks for coming.”

Mindlessly, he presses a kiss to the top of her head. “All you or Jieun have to do is call.”

~

It’s Christmas Eve and Wonwoo has just put Jieun to bed. Y/N says she has a long night ahead of her wrapping presents for Jieun. Wonwoo considers leaving because there are just some things that he doesn’t want to push. This feels too ‘Mom and Dad are together’ of them, even if Jieun isn’t even awake to see it. They’re still a team, but they rarely work on anything together. They tend to split the jobs between them instead. 

Still, the mountain of boxes in the bedroom floor makes him second guess leaving. He leans against the door frame and watches Y/N sort through the sea of boxes. “Did we go a little overboard this year?” He jokes. Y/N gives him a sheepish smile. 

“What can I say? She’s at that age where she can tell us what she wants, and we’re both total suckers.” 

She’s right. All Jieun has to do is bat her big eyes and pout up at either one of them. A good, “Appa, please,” usually does the trick even he was trying to be strong. 

“Do you need some help?” Wonwoo finds himself asking. He’s not a great gift wrapper, but he can hand her boxes and tape. And it feels totally unfair to leave her with all of this when he’s contributed half of these boxes to the pile.

Y/N smiles and shakes her head. “No, you should go get some rest. You said you’re visiting your family tomorrow, right?”

The question burns and he knows she doesn’t mean it like that. She doesn’t have family around so it would just be her and Jieun tomorrow morning. Wonwoo said he’d visit family, yes. But he finds himself biting the inside of his cheek. “You two are my family too.” 

Y/N releases the box and frowns at him. “Wonwoo, I promise I didn’t mean it like that. You’re welcome here anytime, literally. But you see us all the time and you don’t get to see anyone else that often.” 

“And if I want to bail on them and help you wrap presents instead? And watch Jieun open them in the morning?”

Y/N gives him a long look, before finally picking up the tape dispenser and holding it out to him. “Then come on.” 

~

Much later, Wonwoo finds himself somewhere he hasn’t been in four years. Y/N had insisted it was too cold to sleep downstairs on the couch. “It’s not like you haven���t slept in this bed together before.” She means it as a joke but his mind races when she shoves some of his old clothes into his hand. 

It must be weird for her too, because she’s still awake. He’s about to excuse himself and find a couple blankets to take downstairs when she speaks up. “I’m sorry for how that sounded earlier. You are my family. I know we’re… complicated sometimes. But that doesn’t change anything.” 

Wonwoo glances at her. He hasn’t seen her like this in a long time, lying next to him with messy hair, and it gives him a rush of emotions that he has to beat down. “I know. I know we’re complicated sometimes, but I still love you and Jieun more than anyone else in the world. Of course, I’d rather be here.”

Y/N chuckles. It sounds a little watery and he’s not ready to see her cry. “We love you too. You’re the greatest dad and there have been so many times I wish things were different for us. For Jieun.”

Wonwoo rolls to face her. “Do you regret it?” He’s afraid of the answer.

“I don’t know? Neither of us were happy. I’d hate to think that we might still be like that if we had stayed together, and what it might have done to Jieun. But sometimes the lines blur for me.”

“Me too,” Wonwoo says simply. He gets it. The urge to hug and kiss and hold her like when they were together. The desire to take care of her. The need to fall into bed with her like they did in their tragically short relationship and let her warm him up. He recognizes that some of it is just what he should do for the mother of his child. A toxic relationship between them would negatively impact Jieun and they’ll have none of it. But every time he leaves the house to go to a quiet apartment, he feels a mixture of relief and pain. Sometimes he wants to stay, like he is tonight, just to get over the fear of getting close to that blurred line again and see what happens. 

“Wonwoo? Have you dated any?”

“No,” Wonwoo says bluntly. “Mingyu tries to set me up but I’ve avoided it.” 

Y/N hesitates. “If you say it’s okay for me to date, then it would be okay for you as well. There’s no double standard here.”

He can’t imagine being with anyone else, so he says so. Y/N finally looks at him, eyes a little watery. “Still?” He simply nods and she bravely slides over to him. His arms fold around her automatically. “It gets lonely, doesn’t it? Our situation?”

“Lonely?” He questions though he gets it. He just likes to hear her thoughts. 

“It’s not just about things like sex. It’s about the daily intimacy. I don’t get nearly enough hugs anymore because I’m too busy giving them. How silly is that?” Y/N chuckles into his chest. 

“It’s not silly at all,” he says easily. The second part doesn’t come out so easily. “So there’s been no one in any capacity?” Y/N shakes her head in his chest. Something possesses him to press a kiss to her head. “Me neither.” 

His words make her lift her head and look up at him. Out of habit, no matter how old it is, he grazes the side of her face. It’s also an old habit to lean down and kiss her. Warmth blooms in his chest when she kisses back. It takes very little thought to see where this is going. She starts shedding his clothes and hers are right behind his. When he pushes himself into her, he thinks he could cry at the little sounds she makes because they’re the same. It’s the same when he tells her he loves her and she says it back. It’s the same when she comes hard around him and he follows quickly after. It’s also the same to shower together afterwards. 

They don’t talk about it. Wonwoo wonders if she’s just as lost for words as he is when they climb back into bed. They don’t talk about it in the morning either, but Wonwoo can’t resist finding little reasons to touch her. Brushing up against her in the kitchen while they make breakfast. Sitting close with an arm around her as they watch Jieun open gifts from the couch. Sneaking a little kiss on her cheek on his way out later that night. Once he’s had a taste after so long, he remembers how much he loved it. It’s like a knife in his chest to go back to his quiet apartment. 

~

It’s the middle of January, in the middle of the night, when Wonwoo’s phone rings. He’s groggy but his eyes shoot up when he sees who’s calling. She would never call this late if it wasn’t an emergency. “Y/N?”

Her breathing is a little jagged on the line. “Wonwoo, Jieun is sick.”

He knows this, Jieun has had the flu for a few days now, but Y/N wouldn’t panic like this for just anything. He’s up and pulling on clothes fast. “Talk to me, baby.” The name comes out before he realizes it but Y/N doesn’t say anything about it. 

“She’s got a high fever and I think she’s dehydrated. She’s so out of it that she won’t really talk to me.”

Wonwoo doesn’t know exactly when he hung up the phone or how fast he drove, but he finds Y/N hovering over Jieun’s bedside. He decides they’re out of their element when he sees the thermometer and scoops up Jieun. “Let’s just go to the hospital.” 

Y/N grabs her things swiftly and they’re in the car within a couple minutes. Wonwoo’s nerves are shot already. He doesn’t want to take Jieun to the hospital because it brings back too many memories. But hospital staff say nearly an hour later that it was the right decision. They want to keep Jieun for a few hours at least to reduce the fever and get her rehydrated. 

Outside of the exam room, Y/N cries into his chest. He does his best to soothe her, but everything he says is to soothe himself too. How Jieun came into this world was traumatic and both parents feel raw about it to this day, particularly since they’re standing in the same hospital that they were in five years ago. 

The next morning, Mingyu brings him a bag of clothes because he won’t be going back to his apartment any time soon. Jieun will still need a few days of careful monitoring at home and Y/N’s hands haven’t stopped shaking, even when they’re on the way home later in the afternoon. He reaches over blindly and holds them in her lap as he drives. 

~

It’s Valentine’s Day and Wonwoo is regretting agreeing to this. Mingyu’s been applying a lot of pressure lately to date. He has no excuse not to go when Y/N encourages him to, saying she doesn’t have any plans and will be home with Jieun having a girl’s night. Wonwoo hesitantly asked if Seungcheol hadn’t tried to make plans with her and she’d simply shrugged and said ‘It wasn’t going to work’.

So Wonwoo finds himself seated in front of a woman named Seoyun. Mingyu didn’t lie. She’s pretty, seems sweet, has a good sense of humor, and likes to read. Wonwoo is entirely unsettled by all of it but does his best to be polite. When he says nervously that it’s been a while since he’s dated, she waves it off and asks about him. He keeps it simple. He talks about his job and his daughter. Seoyun doesn’t seem put off by the mention of Jieun but carefully asks if the mother is in the picture. He smiles and simply says, “Yes, she is and we’re on good terms.” If he were to ever entertain bring someone else into Jieun’s life, Y/N’s presence is a non-negotiable and they should know it right away. 

“Do you mind if I ask why it didn’t work?” Seoyun asked hesitantly. It occurs to Wonwoo that Mingyu might not have mentioned this little snag. She might not have agreed to go out with him if she did. 

Nonetheless, Wonwoo keeps that answer brief as well. “We were only together briefly before we found out Jieun was on the way. We rushed to get married but quickly decided that it wasn’t making us happy.”

This seems to make Seoyun relax. He’s sure she was expecting some sob story about infidelity or money problems - the typical things that make people divorce. She tells him that she owns a bakery. When she tells him the name, he has to pretend like he’s never heard of it, despite the fact that his and Y/N’s little wedding cake came from there years ago and Seoyun probably made it herself. 

He walks her to her front door at the end of the night and Seoyun smiles at him. “I don’t expect a second date.”

Wonwoo raises an eyebrow. “Oh. Was it something I said?” He’s not hurt, just curious. 

Seoyun chuckles. “No, nothing like that. I had a great time and you seem like a nice guy. I knew you would be because Mingyu had so many nice things to say about you. I just know when someone’s still in love with someone else.” Wonwoo feels his face pinch and Seoyun chuckles again. “It’s okay, really. I get it. You and your ex have history and you still care. Maybe you can even fix it one day.”

Wonwoo’s mouth is dry. “I don’t know if she wants that.” And the idea of asking feels like standing on a ledge. 

Seoyun smiles kindly. “Just think about it. People have stressful periods of their life and some relationships don’t endure. But I’m a believer in right person, wrong time.” She wishes him good night and goes inside. He’s a little dazed the rest of the night. 

~

Mingyu calls Y/N and says he needs uncle time a few weekends later and Y/N promptly hands Jieun over at the door an hour later. Y/N and Mingyu aren’t exactly friends, but they have some mutual respect for each other. Mingyu is suspicious when Wonwoo calls to ask if Y/N indicated what her plans were, but simply says ‘chores’.

Wonwoo lets himself into the house. Y/N is standing on the kitchen counter when he enters the room and jumps when he grabs ahold of her legs. “Hey! What are you doing here? Jieun is out with Mingyu.”

“I know,” he says vaguely. “The better question is what are you doing all the way up there?”

Y/N huffs. “Switching out my mugs.” Wonwoo hums. She’s collected coffee mugs for years and brought a not-so-small collection with her when they’d moved in together way back when. She had seasonal and holiday mugs that had to be shuffled around between the rack on the counter and the upper cabinet periodically. 

“Wish you would just let me do that,” Wonwoo teases, though it does make him nervous to find her climbing on things. It always has. 

Y/N snorted. “I would have if I knew you were coming over. But I’m almost done.” When she closes the cabinet, Wonwoo lifts her off the counter and places her on her feet. It makes her giggle and his chest feels warm. 

“What? Didn’t think I could still do that?”

She shoves him by the chest but he stays stationary, his hands still pinned at her waist. Y/N picks up two floral mugs. “Which one do you want?” 

“Black,” he answers shortly just to piss her off and he’s delighted when it works. 

“You took those with you. Bright, seasonal mugs are all we have here.” She twists towards the coffee pot and starts it up because she knows he doesn’t actually care what the coffee is in. Wonwoo is still standing close, hands on her waist. “Not that you’re not welcome anytime, but what brings you here? I just have chores to do today so you run the risk of being put to work if you’re here,” she jokes with her back to him still. 

“You, actually. Can we talk?” 

She peeks over her shoulder, looking up at him. She looks confused. “Oh, okay. What about?”

“Us?” 

He feels her stiffen and she turns to face him fully. “Is this a good ‘us’ or bad ‘us’ conversation?” It’s a fair question. She needs to know if she needs to gear up for a fight. 

“I think it depends on how you take it, but I’d like you to hear me out.” 

“Vague as ever,” Y/N huffs and he can tell it’s mostly a joke. “Let me get coffee for us first.” 

~

They’re seated on the couch next to each other and Wonwoo doesn’t know where to start so he starts lamely. “I’m sorry.”

Y/N’s eyebrows pinch together. “For what?”

“For not being a good husband. I wish I could go back and do so many things over again.”

Y/N bites her lip. “Wonwoo, we were both at fault.” Wonwoo shakes his head at her. 

“No, not equally anyway. You were suffering. With the pregnancy, with the birth, and with the postpartum depression. You needed my help and I checked out mentally and emotionally. I might have still been here physically, but I offered so little otherwise.”

Y/N’s eyes get watery and she puts the mug down on the coffee table, because her hands are shaking a bit. They always do when they talk about that period of time. “You were suffering too. The whole thing was just as much of a surprise for you. And then the pressure you were under at the hospital that night. It was a lot. All of it was.”

Wonwoo shakes his head again. “That’s just it.” He swipes a hand down his face. He hates thinking about that day much less talking about it, but he’s held onto this for five years now. “Things moved fast before that, yes. But something clicked off in my brain when that damned doctor asked me to pick between you or the baby. It’s an impossible decision that I felt like I’d get wrong no matter what. And I couldn’t even talk to you about it because you were a little busy bleeding out.”

He has to stop talking about the details because it feels like a knife twisting in his chest. He’s about to cry, something he rarely does, but this has been building for years now and he doesn’t want to stuff it back down anymore. “And then we get home and all I could picture is what it might have looked like if it hadn’t all worked out. What would I have done to come home without either of you? Or neither, totally alone?” He chuckles bitterly. “It’s so stupid because I have no room to complain. You were the one that almost died. But I couldn’t unsee it. The panic was all I could feel for months afterwards. It just wouldn’t go away and I was numb to everything else. So when you asked if I was happy, I said no, but I should have explained.”

Y/N is silently crying now. “What would you have said?” 

“That I love you too much to lose you. So I let you go. God, it makes no fucking sense when I say it like that. I thought it was what you wanted when you handed me the papers so I signed them.” He’s crying in frustration now, and he feels like he doesn’t deserve it when she wraps her arms around his shoulders, pulling him in. She runs a hand through his hair and he breaks. 

She’s one of the few people he’d let go like this in front of, but he’s still embarrassed when he pulls away. She stays close. “So, what now?” She hesitates. “Do you… want things to change?”

“Selfishly, yes.” 

Y/N chuckles. “First of all, you don’t have a selfish bone in your body.” She cuts him off when he opens his mouth to argue. “Second of all, what do you have in mind?” 

“Can we try again?” The question is weak but she nods and he feels like he could cry again. She’s crawling into his lap just as fast as he’s pulling her in. Once she’s straddling him, his arms fly around her and his lips slam into hers. It’s desperate and fast and it takes a single tug of his shirt from her for him to yank it off impatiently. She’s matches his impatience perfectly, tugging at their clothes to get the most important pieces out of the way until she’s crawling back into his lap and sliding down on him. He moans loudly into her neck at the warmth. 

And then she’s riding him fast and he feels blinded by it. The intensity of it has him hurtling towards an orgasm fast and he reaches for her clit to get her there too. Afterwards, they sit boneless on the couch. He’s still buried inside of her and she’s laying on his chest. “I love you.” 

His heart is in his throat when he says it back, and then he’s standing up with her still attached to him. She squeals and it makes Wonwoo feel so fucking light as he climbs the stairs, throwing her onto the bed. He’s on her in seconds and he doesn’t think he’ll ever get enough. He doesn’t know how he’s lived without it for four years. She urges him into a brutal pace that has her crying out and coming hard more than once. When he’s done, he moves to get them into the shower and she pulls him back down and curls into his side. “No way, we’re staying here for a while.”

Wonwoo laughs, kissing her hard again. 

~

It’s another small wedding, but this time it’s relaxed without all of the pressures they had before. Jieun is the flower girl, but she’s still kind of confused by the whole concept of them getting married. She doesn’t understand how things would even change. Wonwoo moved back in promptly after he and Y/N got back together. Jieun didn’t really seem to notice, which Y/N assured Wonwoo was a good thing. That meant he’d already been so present that the change was imperceptible to her. 

Mingyu is giving a speech. Wonwoo and Y/N didn’t do the groomsmen/bridesmaid thing, but Mingyu still felt compelled to give one because he was certain he would have been the best man If the wedding had been any bigger. Mingyu is surprisingly warm to Y/N now. It seems he’s seen the error of his ways and accepted that being with her makes Wonwoo happy. There was a lot that Wonwoo didn’t tell him back then that he’s told him now. 

Wonwoo looks at Y/N when they toast and clink champagne glasses, but raises an eyebrow when she just pretends to sip it. He grips her thigh lightly and leans over when the music starts again. “You don’t have to pretend to drink it, baby. I don’t want you to get sick again.”

Wonwoo had gotten a call from Y/N first thing this morning. She was late and she was panicking. He abandoned the rule that the bride and groom shouldn’t see each other before the ceremony and went to her hotel room. A few tests later and the results were confirmed. She’d tearfully asked if he wanted to call off the wedding and his vehement denial had startled her. She’d asked him a dozen times and he had to kiss her breathless for her to get it. 

She still looks nervous sitting next to him. “Don’t have any regrets, do you?” 

He pulls her face to his and kisses her hard. He can be soft later, but she needs to understand the intensity of his love right now. “I’m with you. We’ll figure it out.”

“You’re not upset? Really? Even after how things were with Jieun?” She’s getting tearful again. 

“No, I’m not upset. I’d love to have another child with you. But I’ll be picking you if I’m asked again, okay? It’ll always be you.” 

Y/N nods and this time she’s the one kissing him hard. He won’t be letting her go again.

[haruka-norikoyo]

Monoma x reader who is Mirio’s sibling Part 5

Wow, I can’t believe I already have this much parts.

Other parts:

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 6 | Part 7

Part 5/?

~~~~~~~~~~

You had the movie set up by the time Neito returns to the room. He was only supposed to get ice cream and soda so…

“Why do you have all that with you?!” you laugh. With him is a whole cart of food that the two of you would not be able to finish. He didn’t forget the ice cream. It was in one giant bowl topped with a myriad of sprinkles and syrup, as well as some slices of fruit as if that would make it healthy. On the second level of the cart are a bunch of cream puffs and small cake slices, and on the bottom level are chips and popcorn. Behind him, he is dragging along a wagon stacked high with blankets and clothes pins.

Neito shrugs, smiling at your amused expression. “They all got nosy and decided to chip in.” He sets down the blankets beside you on the bed, taking out a mini projector. “Aw, they’re so sweet.”

He nudges you while he connects the projector with his computer. “Hey, pay attention to me, not my classmates.”

You nudge back teasingly, “I dunno, you seem pretty out done.”

Neito rolls his eyes. “Are you gonna set up the base or what?” he asks, gesturing to the blankets and pillows.

You gasp, unfolding the blankets with glee. “A pillow fort..! That’s what it’s for..!”

He chuckles at your childish excitement. Though, he had to admit that the pillow fort was a good idea from Honenuki… he’ll have to thank him later.

Once he was done setting the projector up, he helps you with the fort. You pin the blankets onto his unused ceiling fan and his curtain rod, and some at the edges of his bed. Next you stack the pillows around you as a wall, using one of them to prop the projector up to properly face the wall. Now that the fort is done, you sit inside, waiting for Neito to join you after shutting the lights off. You hear them click. The blankets part as Neito crawls in with faintly lit electric candles. The extravagance of this one final touch has you rolling with laughter. He raises a brow at you with a smirk, setting the candles down around the fort. “What? Don’t like it?”

“No, I love it,” you giggle.

Neito smiles, finally sitting with his arm around your shoulder. He’s silent for a while, so you look back at him. You tilt your head, “What’re you staring for, hm?”

“Wow, so I can’t even look at you?”

You shake your head, leaning against him. “Just don’t ask me about what you missed in the movie.”

“Yeah yeah, I’ll pay attention to it,” and so he presses his keyboard, and the movie begins.

***

There is a knock in the 1-B dorm.

Kendo is quick to open it, finding her homeroom teacher standing there. He doesn’t usually have to check on them, so she figures why he’s there. “Oh, Vlad-sensei. Togata-san’s over at Monoma’s room.”

“Ah,” he says. He had gotten a call from Aizawa saying that some students from class 1-A were worried about (y/n) Togata not coming back to the dorm when they said they’d be back before curfew. Both teachers knew where you’d probably be without saying anything, which leads him here. “Tell them it’s past curfew and time to call it a day.”

“Well… we tried, but we figured it would be fine for Togata-san to stay?”

“What do you mean you tried?”

Kaibara peeks his head out of the door. “Just look at them.” He holds out his phone, which is on video chat with Tsubaraba over at Neito’s room along with Fukudashi, Shishida, Rin, Awase, and Kodai. The camera settles on Fukudashi as he draws on Neito’s face with a marker, which already has a few doodles. The unsuspecting boy is fast asleep, curled up against you, whose face is untouched… for now. Fukudashi’s face is in a mischievous “fufufu” speech bubble.

The other four are aiding him by holding up the blankets while he draws. In the background, the credits of a movie is projected on the wall. Several trays of the remnants of snacks sprawl across the floor.

Technically, the curfew only specifies that students must be in the dorms, but not which dorm so… Vlad sighs. “Alright. Just remind them not to be late for class.”

Besides, Aizawa probably won’t give a damn either. It’s hero school. Let the kids be kids every now and then.

***

You are gently shaken awake as a soft voice calls out your name. “(Y/n)… (y/n), I’m leaving soon.”

“Hm?” you rub your eyes, opening them to see Neito now dressed in his P.E. uniform. Curiously, he has a few dark smudges on his face. Ah, you must’ve fallen asleep. “Morning Neito… where are you going?”

“I’m going to Gym Gamma. You should head back to your dorm before your classmates get worried. Maybe get a little more sleep in your room.”

Sitting up, you notice that the fort is still up, just parted to make room for you to move. Most of the mess from last night have been stacked neatly to the side, ready to be cleaned up later. As he’s setting his gym bag up, he adds, “By the way, they drew on our faces on our sleep.”

Now that wakes you up. Quickly, you take your phone out and look at the camera and see that there, in fact, are doodles on your face from permanent marker. Well that explains the ink remnants on Neito’s face…

He hands you a wipe, saying that you can use the one of the 1-B sinks as well as their soap before you leave for your dorm. “Thanks. Why so early though? You training?”

Neito rubs the back of his neck. “Yeah, well, your brother visited yesterday while I was getting snacks.” Seeing the scowl on your face, he quickly adds. “He didn’t try scaring me this time. In fact, he offered to help train me.”

You did, staring incredulously at him, “He did?” “Yeah,” Neito sits down on the edge of his bed. “And considering he’s one of the big three of UA, how could I refuse? Besides, it’s a good chance to see his quirk in action.”

Fearing that he’d accidentally go too hard on Neito, Mirio had Hado take over in the demonstration with 1-B. She kicked their asses. No remorse, I fear.

———

“I’m here because I’d like to make an offer to you. Think of it as an olive branch being extended,” Mirio, whose head is peaking out from the 1-B dorm’s floor says.

Neito raises a brow. A peace offering? “I’m listening…”

“I’ve heard of your quirk Copy. You’re able to copy other’s quirks if you’ve made physical contact with them for a certain amount of time, correct?”

“I’m a little concerned about how you know that, but you’re right. I’ve been training to extend that time limit.”

“Ah, sounds great! Ah—” Mirio sinks into the floor. Neito furrows his brows in confusion. After a few seconds, his voice returns. “Anyway, since we’ve started out on the wrong foot…”

Neito looks up as Mirio’s head now pokes out of the ceiling.

“…I would like to get to know you better. As both a person and as the hero you’re aspiring to be. So I came here to offer to train you on using my quirk. It’ll help you improve your duration too right?”

Neito puts his finger on his chin, looking straight ahead, “That’s… an interesting offer…” His mind weighs his options. He doesn’t exactly fully trust this guy even when he’s your brother so…

Mirio sticks his hand out from the ceiling to make a thumbs up. “It is, isn’t it? You see, my quirk isn’t what you’d think is hero like, is it?”

At this, Neito looks up again, eyes bigger with interest. “Not hero like? Even though you’re top of the school?” “My quirk makes me untouchable to everything. That includes any surface and even air. A simple movement such as taking a step through a wall would require me to turn it on for all except one leg, stepping through, turning it off in that leg that stepped through, and then turning it on in that previous leg.” “It took me a lot of time and dedication to make it a hero like quirk. I want to see if you’re the type who can persevere. I think that’s fair considering you claim you’ll spend the rest of your life with (y/n).”

Neito smiles wryly as Mirio quotes him. But that smiles soon fades, his expression going serious. “I do intend to make good on my words. They’re not simply hopes and wishes, they’re promises. I accept your offer.”

Mirio smiles a little wider. It’s subtle, but Neito picks up on it. “Alright! Lets meet tomorrow at Gym Gamma. Two hours before class.”

Neito nods. “Understood, onii-san!”

Mirio narrows his eyes at the boy, “…Fine, I’ll let you call me that.”

[hannahssimblr]

As hangovers go, it’s about a nine out of ten. I waste the morning drifting in and out of sweaty snoozes, my duvet coiled around my legs like cotton vines that want to bind me to the sheets, gritty with the sand I dragged in on my shoes. At some point I am startled briefly awake by my phone buzzing with such fury that it hops along the surface of the mattress. 

It's Michelle. I switch it off and roll over. 

Around midday when the sun is at the perfect angle to sear through the glass and scorch my sweat bathed body like a helpless insect under a magnifying glass, I finally roll out of bed and shuffle into the living room. 

The guys are playing something that’s wall to wall machine guns on the PlayStation. They invite me to join, but I tell them no. The percussive sounds of the bullets is enough to make my brain throb. I let myself outside in yesterday's clothes to escape the noise, grabbing my sunglasses on the way. 

I think a walk will be good, I think it’ll make me feel better. I avoid the beach, which is obnoxiously busy on sunny days like this one, in favour of a walk through the village in the vague direction of the boat club. I don’t intend to go that far. I spent the whole summer last year avoiding a certain waitress, and I have yet to decide if I’m going to do the same this year. Today is not a day for decisions, so I will just loop around the caravan park and come back. 

The walk is not a success. First I am confronted by the dead seagull and then it’s the bin overflowing with half eaten fish and chips in the beach car park. I make it about ten metres before my body takes over and I throw up neon green behind a family station wagon. I knew it was coming, but I would have rather it had happened in a more confidential place. 

“Oh God, foul.” A very pretty girl in a bikini says to her equally pretty friend as I wipe my chin with the back of my hand, and all I can hope is that either these sunglasses provide adequate disguise, or that I will never see them again. 

But once I’ve thrown up I feel better. Though a headache persists, I've heard the sea air holds some sort of magic. I suck it in in lungfuls hoping it can heal my stomach, my head, and whatever it is that is specifically wrong with boys like me who call their ex-girlfriends at two in the morning and say a whole host of things that are wholly unhelpful to both of you. 

After this walk I will go home and force myself to eat something. I'll just force myself around the caravan park one time. The moment I slip through the gates, I have to leap aside to allow a group of boys to pass on their bicycles. They shout something at me for being slow and in their way, and I laugh, even though it makes my skull throb. 

I’ve always quite liked this part of the village, it’s rough and ready. There is nothing fancy about the old concrete shower block, dropped smack bang in the middle of the place, the big sun bleached plastic bins and the sporadic blocks of concrete with weeds bursting from the cracks. I enjoy its chaos, the mismatched lawn furniture, thin summer clothes pegged to lines, the children running wild in unsupervised chaos. 

The management tried to ban me from this park when I was twelve over some incident with a tennis ball and an ice cream truck. They took my photo and all, and stuck it up in the office, but the next summer when I got my growth spurt they didn’t recognise me anymore. So I made my triumphant return, hung around, threw things out of trees to see what sounds they’d make, and kissed all the girls I could get my braces-filled mouth on. 

I peer over the rim of my glasses toward where three girls are hanging out on the tennis courts, two popping the ball over the net while the third lolls on the sideline. I try to figure out if I ever kissed any of them in my heyday. I don’t remember, but if they were here in 2005 then it's most likely. 

Except if that girl is Kelly Healy, which, I realise, as I get closer to the court that it is. She’s unmissable, really, red faced, her sweaty curls spring free of her ponytail as she swipes at the ball and misses. She lets out a cry of frustration, flings her racket onto the ground and whines loudly about how unfair it is that she should have to lose every single set. 

I think it’s fine to think about how much I never wanted to kiss Kelly Healy. It’s not offensive, because it’s not as though she would have wanted to either, in fact, the idea of it has to disgust her as much as it does me. I hope she doesn’t see me as I pass, but I doubt she will, she’s too busy laying into her friend, but the girl sitting on the ground does. 

She smiles at me. Does she come here every summer? Is she one of the girls I’ve kissed? I doubt it. I think I’d remember. 

I smile back tentatively and she shyly tucks a strand of silky blonde hair behind her ear. 

She’s pretty, but I look away, racked with guilt for thinking it. Amn’t I supposed to be heartbroken and devastated? Surely I owe at least three months of penance, languishing in misery, unable to even look another girl in the eye as punishment for my selfish crimes. I’ve only given it a measly six weeks. 

I think this walk was a bad idea. I wasn’t ready for it. I swerve down a path away from the court and turn back toward home.

Jen is hanging out on the outdoor furniture when I return. I don’t really want to talk. It seems somehow as though breathing the fresh air has made my headache worse, but she speaks to me anyway despite my attempts to non-verbally communicate a desire to be left alone. 

“You should delete her number,” she tells me, voice flat, and I just grunt something non committal.

“I’m serious, you really just can’t be trusted. You should just save yourself the angst and minimise the risk of any contact.”

“You spoke to her?”

“Yeah she called me,” then, incredulously, “why did you say all of that to her?”

“I don’t remember what I said.”

“I don’t believe that.”

“Well, don’t then. I don’t care.”

“Okay, grumpy.”

“Don’t talk to me right now.” I stalk up the stairs and into the house, then burst into my room while ignoring the boys who are still offering me a game of whatever they are playing. I kick the door shut and snatch my phone off the tangled mess that is my bed. I switch it on. 

It comes to life in my hand like a sentient being, buzzing and chiming with all of the messages and calls I missed, but I delete every single one of them without looking. Then I go straight to my phonebook.

SHELL <3 

Her name is stark, black text against white. She changed her own name on my phone a long time ago, adding that little heart onto the end of it as though I would ever forget exactly which Michelle this was, as though we didn’t text each other every second we spent apart. I swear, through the aura of my headache, now throbbing furiously behind one eye, it seems like those two little symbols are mocking me. 

DELETE?

My thumb twitches. 

YES SHELL<3 HAS BEEN DELETED

Beginning // Prev // Next

[hooked-on-elvis]

[FACTUAL STORY]

ELVIS, ice cream and the long black limousine

PHOTO 1: Elvis Presley and leaving the Omni Coliseum in Atlanta, Georgia, on July 3, 1973. | PHOTO 2: Actress Sherry Boucher.

Billy Field, an instructor in the Honors College at the University of Alabama, traveled far from his hometown of Sylacauga, acting, writing and working in TV and film, before returning to his alma mater to teach screenwriting and film production. From days at the Lee Strasberg Theatre & Film Institute (the method-acting school), he met actress Savannah Smith Boucher, who became a lifelong friend. He began to tell a story recounted by his friend's sister, Sherry Boucher, but then she called to re-tell it, first person. Boucher was once married to George Peppard, star from "Breakfast at Tiffany's" to "The A-Team," but her Elvis encounter preceded that.

Here it goes: In '73, while modeling for a car ad in Palm Springs, California, Sherry Boucher took an afternoon snack break from the desert heat. "... I was so excited about getting this ice cream," she said. As she walked, reveling in the cone, a man who she thinks was Elvis' longtime friend, Red "Sonny" West stepped up and spoke: "'There's a man in that car who wants to speak to you.'" But her folks back in Louisiana raised the kids right. She knew better than to approach strange men in cars, even if that vehicle was a star's long black limousine. She couldn't see through the windows. Possibly Red said: "You just have to walk on the sidewalk. Really, it's OK." "I'm licking this ice cream, and it's melting down my arm. I peep over, lean over, and look in the window; he rolls the window down. He went 'Hello, I'm Elvis Presley. You wanna sit down? Maybe we can get you something to help you with that'" overflowing ice cream. "I was thinking 'Oh my God.' Trying to be cool, trying to be not affected. He opens the door, and says 'You don't have to get in the car; we'll leave the door open.'" So instead of taking a seat with Elvis, Boucher sat on the edge of the limo's open door, both feet sensibly on the ground. As a young model and actress, she wasn't new to compliments, and comparisons: Depending on how her hair was styled, people would mention Natalie Wood, or Ann-Margret, though she didn't see the resemblances. But from her corona of long dark hair, Elvis pictured somebody else: The woman he was divorcing, mother of his only child. "He just had such a sad look on his face, and I said 'Are you all right?' He just looked at me, and I said 'You think I look her, don't you?' He said 'You do look like her.' And I said 'Well. I'm not her.'" She stuck out an ice-cream sticky hand, as if to shake, then had another thought. Asking for something to write on, she scribbled the phone number of her dad, Jesse Boucher. "I said, 'If you need anybody to talk to, my dad is unbelievable. He's great to talk to.' I said 'Mr. Presley,' and he looked at me and said 'Elvis.' I said, 'OK, Mr. Elvis, if you want to talk to my daddy, there's nobody better.' " "He was nothing but nice, but it was a very sad meeting," said Boucher, who after Hollywood days moved back to Louisiana. "I can't believe I was such a banana-head, to give him my dad's number." Source: https://www.tuscaloosanews.com/story/news/local/2017/08/13/readers-share-memories-of-elvis-king-of-rock-n-roll/19740202007/

PHOTO 1: Sherry Boucher (L) and George Peppard (C) attend the American Civil Liberties Union's tribute to Henry Fonda at the Beverly Wilshire Hotel in Beverly Hills, California, on June 1, 1974 | PHOTO 2: "THE F.B.I." TV show: Tom Skerritt, Sherry Boucher, 'Unknown Victim', (Season 6, aired Jan. 3, 1971), 1965-74

Elvis Presley smoking a cigar in the back seat of a station wagon at the Whiteman Air Park, Pacoima, CA on November 19, 1973.

[traipseartist]

May 9th - The Voyage to Ogallala

Eyes open and more snow! Ugh, groans Lewis, who claims he has not seen the sun in a week. I, too, am feeling a little pallid, having spent more time in my jean jacket and sweats than originally scheduled.

Still, we rub our eyes and pack up the Indian Paintbrush suite and lumber out of Centennial for the hopes of breakfast after I take a few work calls and sort out some of life's paperwork.

Before we head out of town we visit a graveyard for old machinery on the edge of the city line and monkey around, trying to get the blood going in our veins before being folded back into Stacey for many hours once more.

We track for Scott's Bluff, hoping to be charmed along the way by something with perhaps a little fiber or even a vegetable in it (sorry Wyoming... I know the soil's really only good for cattle but...) and we find a sushi restaurant in a weird, little shopping mall in Cheyenne. My Pittsburgh knowledge has told me that, when it comes to the interior, sushi places in shopping malls are better bets than you'd know and Wasabi did not disappoint.

While Lewis and I munched on tempura'd zucchini and destroyed another cryptic, we attempted to access his student reviews only to be rebuffed by the Boise State document distribution system, so we closed out and touched road with eyes forward. Laramie and Cheyenne both did not offer much to look back for... except for the occasionally confusing public campaign?

Our wiggle into Nebraska was tumultuous. Snow and rain alternated, and Stacey had an opinion at about 50 mph on a small two lane highway just before the state line, which involved dying with a heavy sigh and Lewis and I wringing our wrists about rebooting her in a ditch on the side of the road.

But we needn't be afraid, she jumped back to life after a five minute constitution and we skittered along to the boundary between Wyoming and Nebraska.

Scott's Bluff, tucked behind flyover suburbia, was worth departing the final langour of Wyoming's eastern corner. We spiraled up what felt like a southwestern sandcastle, with tunnels so smooth I was ready to learn they were cake. We learned the Bluff was named after an "unfortunate death of a fur trader" at the base of the mountain and felt there was some scoop or plot the National Parks service wasn't quite letting us in on. Still we observed the way the wind carried away the rock and how Nebraska may conspiratorially be hiding it's more unique topography from the coastal tourist. The bluff looked like an ice cream scoop out of a mountain in the rear view, and we wished we had arrived a bit earlier to explore the pathways that wound around the National Monument.

From there, Ogallala wasn't far. Just a zip past Chimney Rock--a tall limestone stalagmite that looks to be reaching for God just beyond the highway, so enrapturing, that the plaques at Scott's bluff regale covered-wagon pioneers writing about it in their diaries as I am in mine--and we were on our way. Nebraska is a muted hum from here. The warm, red mesa-like mountains rolling into farm land and delivering us past the larger and more popular McConaughy Lake and onto what I can only regale as a virtual simulation of a camp ground.

The rich green of Ogallala, the quiet solitude, the glittering lake, the lowing of cows in the distance all felt a little too perfect. Like we might truly be sitting in someone's living room wearing a Quest in northern New Jersey instead of gathering kindling dry enough to catch but not so dry as to threaten natural disaster. The sun had emerged finally, the soil soft and the temperature climbing to a comfortable 55, we unpacked our tent, busted out a box of Mac n Cheese we swiped from a gas station on the way in, and enjoyed the way the wind bent the grass. Embers glow, stars emerge, and camp makes us existential as it feels is human tradition. We settle in our tent, listen to the wind and the occasional semi float over the highway up the berm, and wait for the morning light.

[usagisbanexd]

+ SUPER SOLDIER SAILOR STARS #02 * _) _) >>C===3 :-* Kawaii Slash Lovers Collide Cosmic Paradise // Sailor Moon/Pokémon/Potterverse Altfic Crossover, CHAPTER 1.0.002

Fic. he/him!Rei, questioning,ace!Mina

1.0.002 BIG-DICKED REI / LOVES /ACE&lt;3 MINAKO <33!, MINA HOPES

“She’s gone,” says Mina, and in her eye a dart hits its target from afar. The ribbon at the crown of her head unwinds and falls, then brushes forward, a little kanji in the dirt, carried with the wind, petals granted by the jungle of different understanding. She assumes the title of the moonless decoy, red and white chalk lips, Moctezuma the Emperor’s Mongol warbride, kidnapped and ransomed in an ox-drawn wagon, home over a gray dirt steppe, Utah, the birthplace of her fathers the suns, Arizona, the distant red clay of unbought Play Doh, Sister Columbine, father’s reassurance, sing-alongs, ice cream men, fountains oily with cartoon glossy waters: ‘ZAMZAM! VENUS ZAMZAM MAKE-UP!’ Her niqab swirls. She thinks with the wind and the ocean, Michiru’s golden semina. She knows her Mars is the lesser shrine maiden, that she, Emperor Mars, shadow of past nations, is the greater music. She knows Haruka lies in wait, her plastic lip no make-up look the hook in Michiru’s gilded cramping muscular wretching no-womb decoy mazey organ thigh. Mamoru sees Michiru’s eye. A minotaur in a labyrinth on her bonemilk skin. Mamoru’s eyes, gorgeous, tender, Usagi’s bane, Minako’s heaven, the only child, muse-borne. Nowombwomban, no-womb man, the emperor borne from the water passes Mina’s eye like the procession of a distant plaster glaized elephant, and her heart worships the stone inside, and Michiru worships the stone in the water, and together Venus and Mercury swim goddess-born, but Neptune knows no mother and Mercury abandons Venus for the stone, and Venus eternal daughtersister holds her arms and limps her ankle against the cold, and all at once everyone is encompassed by a golden hoop with a single ray shining outward beneath, a film played by the sun the god American-born protector projector from the anus of Apollo risen hoarily into Michiru’s turquoise prison in the gape. Manga. Multi-colored. Pixels. Beauty. Peace sign, ~ Venus &Mars

          Mars with a middle finger, dirt under her nail. Combat boots. Goth make-up. Mina writing feverishly. Her dad holding her crumpled fanfic in a triumphant limp upturned right hand, outward like a cocktail, in the crux like a teddy bear, his wrist bent back, scolding, happy, cocktail hour, bermuda shorts, little ones, muscular thighs, swollen bird’s scimitar scabcalves, Michiru vomiting out from herself in holy meditation, always in Neptune’s raiment, Haruka as Michiru, pathetic Haruka, evil Michiru, the mother’s shackles in Rei’s eye, Rei weeping, Rei devised, Haruka thrashing, Mamoru crying, Haruka weeping, Michiru laughing, Haruka dying, Mamo holding the sword, Venus puking a single tear from the corner of her eye, wiping it, hiding it, Father’s buried secret. Her dad speaks. “Hi,” he says. “No,” says Venus the sun blazing through his mask. “Fuck you, Father. VENUS MAKE-UP!” She preens sadly in front of the mirror in whoreclown make-up. Nothing happens. The towel falls off Shingo’s head. A fetus rests inside the hoop of a rainbow, Mew, the closed door. “You little perv,” says tiny Usagi, her hands clutching evilly at her mother’s womb. Venus prostrate, a little girl in the arms of her white-haired muscular svelte vuluptuous rippling manly-assed father. Venus crying. Venus in chains, then rolling down a hill, Mamo loosing his grasp on Usa’s star-crowned plastic dime store scepter, beautiful Michiru fixing her lip, Mamo taking over the world, Mina weeping, Usagi entranced, the sun behind a cloud, a man triforcated by three circles, a faceless man with gorgeous long hair, equivalent to Hotaru’s tentacles, Kakyuu’s hair, Seiya plucking an acoustic guitar by the light of an Are You Afraid of the Dark campfire, Minako little eight years old in front of the television, her little brother pinching her. Rei-chan laughing, Hotaru in her womb, penis in her hand, in front of the television. Mina open-fisted, a huge-nosed Fagin in rags like an inflated twisted Eurasian troll pinching pennies from her palm. Mamo laughing, futile, empty eyes, crying tears. Empty tears. Mina before the king, her baby rent in half, Rei overseeing from her balcony, opera-gloved, in a cut-off short-sleeve tuxedo, Kamen-masked, two emperors, Mina drawing the sword from the stone and splitting the Gordian knot, Mamo drawing the sword from the stone, the two of them dancing in an Elizabethan chamber, gorgeous music playing, courtly motions, Venus masked in aristocratic Glinda leaning up to his crook, her hand partitioning her mouth and his ear from mouthless gorgeous-faced onlookers fellow dancing. “Meet me in South Hall, behind the tapestry where the ladies pee, Your Majesty,” she whispers. Usagi watches from a table, shoulders slumped, chin tucked into her shoulder, huge languid eyes more beautiful than Venus’s by candlelight. “Yes, m’lady,” comes Mamoru from out of frame. Together the three of them dance through heather in peasants’ gowns, little children living by the clean clear light of a village’s spring.

          “Yeah,” say Mars, Rei-chan, Mina P’s true love. Mercury lives damning a frenzy, her ugliness shown before the sun. Mercury in retrograde, the spirits haunt the latter days. The sun is chilly. “Hi,” says the baby in Mina’s womb, little Kousagi, and the emperor penguin crowns Mars’ feet with lotuses.

          Mina feels sick.

          I know Mina feels sick, thinks Mars. Little Ami’s holes make staples like trainers in her arms, but Mars cares. She doesn’t care. Her eye is a sparrow made

          ‘holeywhollyholy,’ Mina worships.

          Mars prostrates before the fire. The ancient mist spills red ink from a fountain. She believes. In her eye. Venus the man, her Heracles, seven-breasted, abs dry, encircles the Nemean lion with a vitiligo velificatio, the empty crook of his arm encircling a discus, baroque lion poised on its haunches, snarling like heraldry. Mina winces. Mars sleeps. The earth shudders the sun. The earth conquers Mars. Mars sees all. Time elapses eternal. Mamo-‘s heart sickens. Goddesses are stripped of their robes, mocked by cold hearts in ghost forums. Mina’s eye enlarges, her lip movelessly quickers. The song creeps, music notes played a loop threaded through her ears. Pigeon-toed, she floats. Mars lies. He always lies. Wicked love songs, confusions, clang, Mr. Muse, Mr. Apollo, Mrs. Sunshine, married to her own breast, hail sun, fairer than Mars, hail earth, bearing fruit, hail children, baring all, hail mothers, the lesser, hail Mamoru, rescuing Mars, hail Mars, the fairest son, the gravest voice, the true nation, war between earth and Mars, war at mars and earth, eternal emperors waddling toward the foot of their thrones, kings anointed by godly Beryl, penis tucked, talons quivering. Rei vomits on Mamoru’s head, Mamoru vomits on Rei’s head. They laugh. They take over the world. They can do this. Venus drags her sword against the earth. Mamoru laughs.

          Venus’s eyelids shutter, tears below. Mars’s arms outstretched. Venus runs to them, Mina in a long skirt and a sailor’s blouse, bow outsized like Butterfree’s limbs. Sailorbutterfree holds a pistol, squinting an eye through the hole burrowed in Rei’s skull, third eye, penis, unhidden, unbidden, Sailorbutterfree flashes a peace sign.

          Sailormetapod slinks. Eaten. Mamoru heaves his guts. Haruka in gorgeous sensh attire wipes his mouth with a little white kerchief. Kyrie eleison, says Michiru’s body, her hands on her thighs, her thighs on her calves, her feet tucked like a Muslim maiden ready for prayer.

          Venus the maid stumbles on her sword.

          Mars the maid cleans Minako’s apartment.

          Venus the lover rubs her eyes with thumb and index fingers, laughing from a couch. “Last night, my love, the nightmare ceased. Sometimes that which should go with Ares goes with Mars.”

          “Teehee,” says Mars, says Neptune, says the Doom Phantom. He clutches in his hand a chalice in which swim chunks of ambrosia like ice through which a boy is skiing. Mamoru assuming the throne, walking up the backs of prostrate naked senshi, their penises tucked between their thighs, the white cocooned reflexive silhouette of penisless Usagi offering him prostrations like an American-Korean peasant worshipping the newly crowned divinity, naked faced, the fallout after Mina drops the bomb on God. Mars smiles, sick, sad, scared, eternal, an emperor’s eye, anointed, three people, Mirror Elon, giving birth to god through an acorn at the nippleless breast of Ephesian Artemis.

          Venus swims in amber.

          Mars plunges for her.

          Venus holds up a phallus, Galaxia-made. On it, close-up, written, beautiful English legible graffiti: ‘He one-nights ‘em.’ SMILEY FACE, Joker smile, on the low-hanging left nut. Mars grabs the phallus, black onyx bindi on her forehead, and vomits bubbles through the water, groping for them.

          Michiru, robed as senshi, gorgeous, watercolor, maroon, turquoise, marooned, turquoise, smiling a Beryl Michiru smile, holds out enormous hands like a marionette, and the cold sun behind her left elbow casts a shadow and *coughs*.

          The riddle sickens Mars’s hope, and the emperor closes his eyes and cocks back his head in prayer. The emperor becoming.

          The riddle sickens Mina’s hope.

          Mars weeps, walking from the wheel.

          Venus’s mouth waters. Father me.

          I will.

          Mercury loves the emperor.

          “Do you love me?” asks shackled Venus, and a shiver like a tomcat’s spine rises in her right shoulder. The sun weeps a ray upon the blade of her cheek, and through stillness she turns to time and says ‘No,’ and the tears poison her heart and weigh the wink chain beneath her beltloops. Does Rei ever weaken? Does Rei ever bleed? The sun her mother asks her questions, spurning the sickness Mercury feeds her. Mina hates this life, Mina hates her burden. Her fathers bear her beneath the concrete with their grasping hands. She walks on toward the water’s edge, her fathers’ semina. Pasty Mercury with her heaving ugliness and her wicked eye bleeds poison into the sky. Mina’s pupils dilate, a pallor ransoms her beautiful face to hell, the untrue Satan’s bounty. Sailorsatan beautiful in red wakes stirring, a woman in the body of a man, a man in the body of a male woman, cute little horns on her head. She’s masturbating her inflated penis on a couch in the depths of hell. Sailormoviejesus her lover stares on with perfectly symmetrical blue eyes like a superimposed eagle male model’s face all in his irises beyond the silhouette of her body the sofa her body the everything. The flames of hell are the wets of the corners of his unseen mouth. Beautiful daughters bleed.

          Beautiful sons make love.

          ‘Not in front of Mercury,’ says Venus. ‘Galaxia makes love to you.’

          “I’ve lost everything,” says Venus, “and the worm in my stomach twists my power into evil. Is this the world your fathers envision?”

          “She’s here,” says unfaithful Mars.

          Little faithful Venus says no. “My husband has made me a promise of moons,” says the Mina-P inside of her twinkling eye. “You know I’m not Japanese.”

          “Nipon is a beautiful city,” says Rei.

          “I asked you if you loved me,” says Supersailorvenus, her beauty concealed beneath a sweater and denim. The wink chain like beauty’s crooked pinky ensnares her hip like a man who saunters loving her, and she thanks her father.

          Mars stares, no orgasm gurgling inside him.

          “Speak not for Hotaru your metal god,” says Venus. “We’ll get to that.”

          The wind speaks for Venus to Mars, his hair his crown her loving arms reach toward the wind which ties their pasts into love, and Venus weeps knowing. “I asked if you loved me.”

          “I said I never loved anyone,” says Mars. He thinks he’s a savior to men. His vagina throbs. He tries to think.

          Do they the emperors and their hentai-loving concubines forget the starry womb of Venus their big sister? The sun their mother weeps tongueless from the cushion of her quicksilver-reactive transitioning raiment, a bony earth. Venus’s private temple sacked, she and her fathers know better, but she is regressing, they have given her the knife, said ‘Hera, go into the tomb,’ and fearless she has lowered herself into Saturn’s throat and discovered her ugly brothers.

          Vulcan eyes himself, his breasts like twin torpedoes at the verge of ignition. Beryl’s wicked dick wipes the lips off her teeth and is shredded into the trash can by quaking Mercury.

          She wakes. She wonders, in Mercury’s womb a twisting knife. “We tremble,” say her children, and hungry emperors engorge them in their brazen stomach like the lovesick bull.

          Pink sunset greets Mina in the face, bleeding out cinema orange over the flat gray canvas of the God-given oval of her visage. Candy-coated rain spills down the front of her corn white tendrils, whipping them to butter in the melting light of dozy day dying quick like the plunge of a woman’s knife into the hearts of more beautiful girls. The sun the senshi’s father squats his womb against the water. Stillness like Crystal Tokyo before the bomb precedes proceeding, and mothers prostrate before their strollers’ shadows against the sidewalk, all knowing the danger. Empty oceans bear their young, and their young bare their young, and senshi are born from the beauty in boys’ hearts, like razorwire pricked outward, making girls from soldiers but soldiers from girls, and soldiers from girls dance in their wombs and call to boys from soldiers, and all the senshi steal their hearts against the Shadow Destroyer, knowing in their hearts and heads and in the mind of Venus their sister that death will come, and she tells them with the tongue of her father that stars are reborn with men who love them. And planets are born with mercuries in retrograde, their cripple-loving hearts scheming how to infect men with sick and enslave them to her crown the ugly mold, the pretension and the privilege.

          ‘Reject thy mother, Sailorstar,’ says the sun through Venus’ tongue, and Venus in her vacuum womb says ‘Woman, rise,’ and the ancient goddess with her marble mystery and the systemic swell of her breasts gives way to her priests her keepers, and through the lineage of her tears and the tears of her infinite children a love for girls so other from herself blooms like stone bulbs from the cracks of womens’ shields, knitted with Amazons’ false valor, the mists of Mercury descend upon the mind of Venus and unmother her children, unfather her procession, and their weeping will redound upon Mercury with swords, and Venus knows her task to kill, and her hand shakes spasming, and should she call her father? How to tell him all her madness is the stuff of Mab, and Sailormercutio in his restless fever split from his thigh the bloody goddess whose mission is shitcaked vengeance. Does Daddy know? Sailoronestar the little fool in Ami’s womb twists like a rat against its noose umbilical, and Venus’s longing womb cries out to Anna the painted actress, and all women know. And Cat Stevens plays on the radio from a delivered future. A is for Allah. B is for Bilal. Venus weeps for her mother, her mother prostrate, her mother’s wreckage womb. Shadow Destroyer like the hand of a black god points fingers to Mars’s impotent penis, and Venus feels within her head a rattling ghost without bones.

          Mars waits, an evil emperor. Does his penis know its barrenness? Has she sought in her consort Galactica, crown of emperors, bane of love? She speaks in tongues of devils, ifrits shuddering with manly fire, the chauvinist’s lies the concrete boxing his feet. He moves not, not to comfort, not to repent, never to know his princely kingdom is a pauper’s jest played against a losing gambler. Venus the sun’s omniscience breaks rainwater against the placid pond, and Sailorlittleonestar in her eye and Ami’s womb twists wreckless as an acrobat and whispers umbilica, ‘Mother, conquer.’ Fool. Venus feels her starseed. Mercury knows nothing. She holds her arm to it, shielding herself, and the evil girl from across the sea crumples into sickness and subsides. Shadowmercury, Shadowlove.

          Tokyo disrobes her head and breast. The cyberslave glitters blood-red, black over their shoulders’ eye, and the city’s pyramidal eons are an offering to the distant eyes of the newly empty, now-new-dead starlight. Shes sleep in a gray-red dream, and Mars’s eye is on the sparrow.

          Mina the senshi feels herself alone again, and that wind like her daddy runs fingers through her hair, braces her back against his bloodhot chest. Call him Zephyr and the seasons cannot fade him. Call him Zephyr for the lords who re’rrange him. From the sun Sailorzephyr brings a bounty of flowers, beautiful dying sakura-hime, sleeping senshi Venus dies for, and the cornacopic Venus enjoys her sacrifice. Blood thickens at her loin, Achilles’ daughter, Penthesilea’s bright bane, the orphan Amazon in her chest says ‘Daughter,’ says ‘Father, I love you,’ and a blue tear dies blue in the blue of her blue iris. Ami’s visor waits like glass monster Marios.

          “What do you want?” says Mars, and his hair is like a timeswept pupil unfurling into rind.

          “Loose your arrow, love,” says Venus. She swallows air for Rei-chan. Her throat an overburdened elevator, her eyes dead Xs. “Rei-chan,” she turns, and tears become ships bearing riches from the deep blue of her eye, rescuing her history for a nobler shore. “I love you, Rei-chan,” said with a lion’s heart, in a mouse’s voice, the muse quaking in her throat.

          “You don’t, or you’d show me your dick,” he hymns.

          Silence as the dust settles back to quid pro quo. Mina’s ribbon skates along the concrete before her feet, a dance for the new Moon Queen, imposter though she is, making the wind another slave in red velvet shackles.

          Mina watches the sky, ever virgin Venus now a mirror of the moon. “Galaxia moves slowly,” she says, and the twin musics of tears and terror die in her mouth before reaching fully out from the loamy secrets of her mind, frogging her up at the larynx and making her choke on gurgled noise. The words carried out next are like waves without water, salting the beach of her dried mouth and making the air a welcome substitute: “We don’t know where she is.”

          “You’re getting better,” says Rei from in front of the open car door, and in his hand an iris plays with itself in the air.

          “Pretty make-up,” says Venus, forgetting to shut up. Galaxia hears from far-off Planet Star Destroyer, and the wind howls into a vortex from inside a primordial vacuum, reaching its hoary black arm all the way from death beyond the black hole to the heart of Earth. She bites her lip against a shiver; so does Galaxia. “I think you left your fuku in the car, Hino-sama,” Venus says, tucking her chin into the limped synthetic lip of her turtleneck, Sailorsailorvenus’sfavoriteturtleneck, still breathing.

          “I like to change you,” says Rei.

          “Use my henshin stick,” says Venus, and through her father in the ground the wink chain sword winks a chain at her hip, ready to spasm. The starseed in her heart spins like a dradle dowsing Zamzam from its opposite pole. The fossil Venus encased in amber wood beneath the armored slab of concrete at her feet beats its eyelid and the muscles in Mina’s right leg tremble like a dog awaiting its cannibal gruel. Mm, cannibal gruel. Yum, cannibal gruel. Yes, cannibal gruel, yes! And she's a shampoo commercial getting slimed by Campbell's beef stew or something worse. And for Rei she's a depository. And for Rei she's everything. And for Rei she twitches, blinks, twitches and then blinks to play it cool, the scepter of Galaxia unthreading the fabric of her brainstuff and twisting it into a little spool sharp against its sisters. Bubbles in her brain. Speak of bubbles. The god of suns obliges.

          “MERCURY AQUA MAKE-UP!1!” Venus hears, and her eyes sting with vapor, the sun her mother wailing with torn hair and a bleeding scalp at the crook of the girl’s neck. America’s war rages on, Galaxia her mistress on the cusp of Gemini and Latin, enthroned in the might of her majesty. The distant sleeping Tuxedo Kamen wakes to sleep again, loving the barren planet in his ball, and loving the silver cooling his blood. Pallas is born a bastardess, robed in glamor stolen as an apple from the garden of the sun. The pirate princess gold in her nakedness, Sailorarethusa, loses her seed at Mamoru’s V, and Venus of the V quakes soft at blond profundity; all worship the emperor. All but Ami, in whose dark heart a starseed pumps ice and dances as the sun’s towers fall.

          “I’ll use mine,” says Mars to Venus. To Venus. To Venus.

          “Sometimes that fuku which should go with Mars..,”she touches her lip with a wobbling index finger, “isn’t there, babe.” A smile. Then a blank. A profound blank. Wiped blank. “You don’t love her anymore.”

          Galaxia shudders, someone's glee. Shadow Destroyer flicks, switches, a mare's tail emphasizing. Mina flushes hot, then lifts off the ground, arms ascending backwards, and the wind brings her toward the water’s edge. The emperor’s icy hand calls her toward the guillotine, and all is emptied and laid bare. Her clothes, beautiful 90s supermodel fabrics, loose into webs around her body. Her penis enlarges, flesh-plated, arcing at the sun. Her traveling vulva like sails ensnare an empty acrid acre of Antony’s tomb, and the eye of the sun goes white cold. Ghosts fuck to the fore from behind her in wraithe-like procession, beyond her shoulders, burdening her shoulders, countless beautiful billions, stars, beautiful children, people, a Tokyo crowd, each of them surging a walking blitz march behind her.

          Then past her, through her, piercing her like an arrow. From her hands limpid lamplights like Mary Mother of Graces, that wrong-wombed Mother of Graces, Mary on the water, and now she is floating above the pond like a foot skating limp like Barbie’s lost loved cherished worshipped limb, the ice blade of her toe on the ice-blade of the water, and Adonis Mamoru True Man races past her on a jet ski on the water, too, but with the water, and the procession explodes the womb in at her bellybutton into tentacles blood pink like a flytrap and terrible in her her mother sun’s sick male female girlhood soft loving gorgeous sad DEAD DEAD DEAD fury. A harvester, a tomb, a channel, a crownless queen, the sun her king heavy-head-hung, brokenhearted, both of them barren, buried, carrying their ancestors. Her face ugly, her face fat, her body an empty suit, her body a loosed tomb, plundered, given to emperors. Adonis is smiling. Minako’s eyes are turned toward the god in the hell her children bear through her, and her stomach is a nothing. A light dazzles a nimbus at the tip of her penis, an electric shock, presidential, motherhood, mothering, queenless, Hillary-haired, a new god born, Shingo’s eye in a mask, Shingo’s profile, a smile on Minako’s face, one tear, anime tear, streaking down the whole of her face from a smash-breaked beaten battered wincing swollen right eye. Rei’s face: “Gouge,” she says. “I am Eurydice.”

          Minako loves horses. Loves them and needs them to rescue her. Loves Elios, wild unthrowable Pegasus, wile and unbred thing consuming champions at her heel and from her incisor springing a heavily-headed steam treat trained from go to forever entangle. The horse the shrine, the wicked thing. Horses can be evil. This pond is evil. This pond an evil horse does away with me, never moves. I love a good horse, a beautiful horse named Sally. I miss my home in Connecticut, before the war, before the names, before Daddy became Mommy and Daddy became Sir Ansel. I miss Sir Ansel. I miss the horses. Look up there, a woman, a child, a little horse, and my husband Mars all the while playing in his purple iris the strychnine of an evil xylophone. Mars is jealous of Mars.

          Hotaru in the tomb of the cold hard sun. Hotaru’s purple eye. Rei’s child. Rei’s knife. Rei the hunting predator, Minako the hobbled foot-corded wounded limping terrified unhorned dappled soft supple deer, and her father the sun trapped behind his eye with his arms splayed over his visage, presaging magic, unbirth, unwomb, presaging terror, the children of Nagasaki, the women of Taiwan, the carved out penises of Iranian sex-traitors, the sun in terror, Mamoru prince jet ski smiling, grinning, smiling, unblanked, a gun, his jet ski hot pink, Barbie’s whip, Minako’s forfeit womb, and then a rapper beside him black, beautiful, wearing pink and blue tiny board shorts. Mamoru prince Adonis looks at him, his grin the dazzling sunlight off a knife, and checks him out. Hotaru’s womb the tentacled beast extends from the cold blazing sun and threatens Venus’s glass womb upon the water, and Steve Adonis Mamoru Prince turns tears to smiles, and becomes one with the ravenous wolf emperor in his breast. His empty hollow canyon a brass belt like the god he covets and makes covenant, that god Hotaru’s shadow glides upon the water motionless, a kanji, a hidden dagger, child, be armed, child, put down thy weapon, and Mina’s tear freezes on her face, and she gives her womb to the black boy passing, and his stomach grows full, and his breasts heave with muscle, and he too is lifted, and then drowned, and the water thrashes, and Hotaru’s monster tentacles move clasping the water and lifting it like children unworshipped at the sandbox. Mina’s eye opens, her left eye, her right eye still bearing young, and her left eye has become a blank yellow blue iris howling into an abyss, and Galaxia weeps above her with a sword at her breast, gorgeous Roman woman becoming hero, becoming man, and Venus moves slowly through the earth like the void upon the shadow and the water upon the void, the stolen egg, and her fathers’ hands clasp for the egg, trembling, fumbling, strong rippling arms, muscled, unbeautiful, hard palms, and Lil Wayne sings ‘Go DJ,’ and a black kid in a white body spins in a flat-brimmed baseball cap over a tennis ball which inflates into the tail of Pallas’s hair. He and Pallas swallow each other, and a Venus in the boy’s eye assumes her fuku and her heavy sword and chain and pivots toward her father the sun.

          “DAUGHTER!!” cries the sun, and Hotaru stumbles on her heel and plummets in the air, her snapped shoe crying out beneath her little Cynthia Candy heel, and the sun blinks rapidly, the sun becomes a shutterstock, a shuttering light at a nightclub light’s up bar close 3AM impotent, and the black boy stops dancing, and Venus’s sword grows Japanese, and the sword and the water kiss lovelessly, and no children are born, and Rei’s eyes grow wide, and Venus points her sword toward the sun, body arcing, and Hotaru stands above her an eclipse without retrograde in the air over Venus’s head, her arms out like a proud Japanese Jesus, and Venus’s chain shoots from the hoop beneath her sword like loose bowel movement, and Venus’s father reaches his hand from the water and holds her heel, and her ankle swells, bone trembling, and tears drowning undrowning fill her eyes, born star from her father’s scraped womb, and Hotaru reaches down with an evil cold tentacle and they caress hands, and then Venus in retrograde supraintraposed vomits a ribbon from the corner of her eye on her father’s head, into his closed open mouth, and with his teeth he’s bitten it off umbilical, Neanderthal woman, and from his ass bubbles break the water, beautiful as Michiru’s ocean kiss, and say ‘Neptune’ and ‘Poseidon’ and ‘Whisper’ and ‘Future’ and all kanji which means faggot, boiling, and the water beneath her naked father form is boiling, and Vulcan in her gorgeous torpedo-titted lithe form hammers her shackles at the depths of the pond, and Sailorironmouse smiles to the camera, peace sign, so pretty, and Venus’s face is tense in intrapose, and in interpose, in one movement, unknowing, certain, certain of her womb, certain of Rei’s potency, knowing gods, and she twirls slowly like the rotation of gorgeous family romance nighttime twilight kisses to Christmas carols, and a single snowflake dawns from around her body like the most mathematically complex fractral given to God the monkey typewriter megasystem computer to produce, and at the edges where it grows dumb and ugly for lack of honesty lack of effort it becomes Hotaru’s black squid ink metal tentacles. Hotaru’s eyes shoot open. Her breasts take form, bouncing into fruition, nippled, large and small, real flesh, plastic, and from the stolen womb between her legs a metal god Arachne Sailorarachne pretty privileged princess descends on a curling wire, and appears to Venus as a transvestitic dancer.

          “You are not my father!!” yells Venus to the dancer, and in her head a splitting womb gives birth to a god stolen by evil sickly pale woman Mamoru, and in woman Mamoru’s emperor’s eye he sees Venus entangled by his throne.

          “SAILORNEWMOON TWINKLE!!” says the dancer, becoming a Hathor-crowned black crescented gorgeous little princess Usagi, and Venus’s wrist limps clutching a ladder, the Batladder, descending from a helicopter, and the black boy now bespectacled is flying it, and Venus’s lip does nothing in anger and pain, and she falls limp, and the helicopter whips her against a building, and it shatters into asteroids, and the newborn false senshi dance with white light hearts, and the sun Elios reaches for them from space, and they fall from his fingers like saddening sand, and Venus sheathes her wink chain sword between his fleshy pixeled pornographic male asscheeks, Hanyu Yuzuru, and Mamoru feels Hotaru’s shock at the prostrate anus, and the anus lives, and the anus is unprostrate, and Mamoru and Helios dance inside the air once romantic, hands losing one another, tectonic shifts, loosed on opposite sides of their two married pages, Mamoru poised, posed, meaning to, Helios grasping impotently, not barrenly, manned and masked and then bound too by the ropes of the helicopter. And the gladius pierces Galaxia’s oblique, and the blood blossoms under her opaque gold bodysuit, and Lady Gaga somewhere dies alone, and a man’s eye rescues her from his sofa, and it’s all in Galaxia’s crying eye, her lying smile, the blade sickens, the blade is a female appendage turned inward, the blade has tentacles, Hotaru’s mouth bends downward, her soul so far within her inside barriers grows fearful of the howling god, the stupid emperor, Mamoru’s forgotten past, his blank, and Mamoru sheathes his blade and bends toward the prone dead corpse of coldfish Usagi, so beautiful in her untouchable glass skin, and Helios looks on with an empty woman’s smile, and Galaxia’s blade pierces the page.

          An empty left page. Venus to its right, dressed as Minako in a spring day in Philadelphia, red checkered shirt tied like Dorothy Britney, warm little smile for the child behind the camera, peace sign: “JUST KIDDING. HEHE! XOXO SLOW DOWN, BABE. GO TOUCH GRASS. ALL THE GODS LOVE YOU ESPECIALLY, AND THAT'S BECAUSE YOU’RE SPECIAL. HUG YOUR SISTER. HUG YOUR BROTHER. FOR GOD'S SAKE, LOVE YOUR LOVER. LOVE LASTS ETERNAL. VENUS… MAKE UP!!”

[captainsophiestark]

Not the Usual

Steve Harrington x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Fandom: Stranger Things

Requested: Yes, by @hellotvshowtrash​ :)

Request: CAB I PLEASE REQUEST A STEVE HARRINGTON FIC I’ve hopped on the stranger things wagon and I’m almost done with season 3. And I love Steve. So. Much 😭😭 so, if I could have some sort of cute fluffy fic I would be delighted 😭❤️

Summary: Y/N and Steve have been friends since they were kids. They grew apart a little in high school when Steve got popular and Y/N didn't like the people he was hanging out with, but they've never been completely estranged. Y/N has had a crush on Steve once or twice while they were growing up, but she never let him know. Now that they've both graduated, however, Steve might finally be feeling the same about his childhood best friend.

Word Count: 2,449

Category: Fluff

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

"Alright Harrington, it's your turn to deal with the general public," said Robin Buckley as she walked into the back room of Scoops Ahoy. Steve had been sitting at the table back there, flipping through one of Robin's magazines. He didn't look up as she walked in. "Hey!"

Robin closed the distance between her and Steve and smacked him on the back of the head.

"Ow!"

"I just had to deal with a bunch of middle school queen bees critiquing every single move I made while they all got ice cream! That was real pain."

Steve rolled his eyes, but he flipped the magazine shut anyway. He stood, huffing and groaning and making a big deal of it as he headed to the door from the back room to the ice cream counter.

"Fine. But if Dustin comes in here and needs to work on something, you're going back out there for me."

Robin rolled her eyes and didn't bother responding as she took over Steve's seat at the back of the shop.

Steve tried not to scowl too much as he made his way to the counter, staring out at the store around him. Thankfully, aside from the middle school girls still sitting in one corner of the shop, it wasn't very busy. Steve couldn't keep his attention from drifting, and he was about to start bothering Robin again when a familiar face came through the front doors.

"Y/N!" called Steve, lighting up at the sight of his old friend. They'd been best friends all through elementary school and middle school, but had drifted apart in high school, especially as Steve got more popular and spent more time with people like Carol and Tommy. Still, they'd maintained their friendship in some form or another since they were three years old.

"Hey Steve! How's your day been?"

"Not too bad. Better now though, since you're here."

Y/N melted a little at the words, but smiled brightly at Steve.

"Well, I'm glad I could make it better." The two made eye contact, sharing a look before Steve went back into work mode.

"So, what'll it be?"

"The usual, please."

Steve dropped the ice cream scoop on the counter and gave Y/N a look that said Really?

"The usual, Y/N? Come on, you always get a chocolate ice cream on a sugar cone. In the nineteen years I've known you, I don't think you've ever ordered anything else."

"Okay, first of all, you haven't known me nineteen years. You've known me sixteen. We've barely been alive nineteen." Steve rolled his eyes, but Y/N forged ahead without acknowledging it. "And second of all, I like my chocolate ice cream. Why should I order something else when I already like my regular order so much?"

"I don't know, maybe for the sake of adventure? Come on, let me make you a surprise cone. I bet I can make something you like as much or more than chocolate."

Y/N paused, pursing her lips and giving Steve a critical look up and down. Finally, she sighed.

"Alright, fine. I guess there's no harm in letting you give it a try. On one condition."

Steve raised an eyebrow. "What's that?"

"If I hate it, you pay for it."

"You've got a deal," said Steve, grinning as he grabbed a waffle cone and got to work. He scanned every flavor in the case, then finally decided on a scoop of caramel ribbon on the bottom and a scoop of a chocolate-marshmallow mix on top. He finished it off with some rainbow sprinkles, then grinned broadly as he went to the counter and handed the cone to Y/N. She squinted at it, clearly skeptical, but Steve was having none of that.

"C'mon, you can't judge it until you've tried it."

She huffed and glared at him, but after a beat, she tentatively took a lick of the ice cream.

"Did you get- make sure you get some of the sprinkles in there, too," said Steve, waving his hands around and giving Y/N a teasing smile. She couldn't help smiling back as she let the taste of the ice cream float across her tongue. She pursed her lips, took another bite, then furrowed her eyebrows in silent concentration. Finally, when Steve thought he'd go completely crazy from waiting for her review, she spoke.

"This is actually fantastic."

"Yes!" cried Steve, punching the air. "See, I told you I could make you something you like."

Y/N sighed. "Yeah, alright, you were right." She rolled her eyes, then dropped the act and gave him a smile. "Seriously, thank you. You did great."

"Sure thing, Y/N/N. Glad I could get you to step outside your comfort zone."

"Alright, so how much do I owe you for my new regular order?"

"Nah, don't worry about it. It's on me," said Steve, leaning across the counter a little and giving Y/N a charming smile.

"Steve, no, the deal was I didn't have to pay if it was bad-"

"Y/N, come on. Let me buy you an ice cream. Consider it a thank you for being willing to try whatever nonsense I made up."

Y/N paused for a minute, fixing Steve with a look he'd seen for the past sixteen years, and then she smiled.

"Alright, fine. Thank you for the ice cream."

"You're very welcome."

"I'll see you around?"

"You know it." Steve shot her a playful wink, and she couldn't completely fight off a soft smile as she turned and left the shop. She paused just before rounding the corner of the glass window to the rest of the mall to give Steve a little wave, then she disappeared.

"Holy shit, Harrington." Steve's attention was ripped away from staring after Y/N when Robin came out of the back and clapped her hands on his shoulders. He nearly jumped out of his skin she scared him so bad.

"Geeze, Robin! What the hell?"

"I've been giving you shit all summer for how bad you are at flirting. You've botched it with every girl that's come in here, but you did good with her!"

"What? That's Y/N, I wasn't flirting with her."

Robin gave him an aggressively disbelieving look. "Oh yeah, and I don't work at Scoops Ahoy."

"No, seriously, I've known her since we were kids. I wasn't flirting."

"Yeah, you were, Harrington. But I guess it makes sense now that it went so well, since you weren't trying so embarrassingly hard."

Robin didn't bother waiting for Steve to continue his defense before she sauntered back into the back room, presumably to return to her magazine. Steve shut the shutters allowing her to see him, then glared at the wall as he processed her words. He hadn't been flirting with Y/N, had he?

They'd known each other forever. They were just good friends, that was it. Although, if Steve thought about it, he probably would've given any of his other friends a joke ice cream combination instead something he thought they'd actually like. And she was prettier than his other friends. If the opportunity came up to kiss her, he wouldn't mind...

Steve almost had a heart attack as the realization washed over him. He whirled around to look after where Y/N had disappeared, although she was long gone now. Out of everyone he'd known in almost twelve years of school, she was the only one (other than those involved in the Hawkins craziness) that he had any interest in still talking to.

He'd figured she was just a cooler person than all the rest of them. And she was. But thanks to Robin, he had to admit there was something else to it, too.

****************

Y/N had wanted to go back to Scoops Ahoy the day after Steve made his specialty ice cream cone, but she'd gotten bogged down in college preparations and family stuff, so she couldn't. The day after that, however, she made a point of making time to go back.

Steve had been a good friend for a long time, and on and off during the past few years, she'd had a crush on him. He'd gone through a pretty bad douchebag stage in high school, and had been head over heels for Nancy Wheeler until recently, so she'd tried her best to push those feelings to the side. Still, that didn't mean she shouldn't go visit him now, especially with Nancy dating Johnathan and Steve's douchebag stage (mostly) behind him.

It was certainly hard to be posturing and arrogant when you wore the uniform Steve had to wear every day.

Y/N suppressed a laugh at the sight of Steve in said uniform as she walked into the ice cream shop. Like the last time she'd been in, the shop was thankfully not very busy, which meant it'd be easier for her to talk to him.

Or at least, that's what she thought as she headed up to the counter. As soon as she got within a few feet and Steve noticed her, he went from the guy she'd always known into an absolute mess.

"Ahoy there, Y/N!" he said, whirling around and almost falling in the process. He grimaced at himself as soon as the words were out of his mouth.

"Hey, Steve..." Y/N said. She quickly scanned her childhood friend up and down, looking for any obvious cause of the behavior like a glaring head injury. When she didn't find anything, she continued. "What's up? How's your day been?"

"Oh, you know. The usual," he said, leaning forward on the counter and fixing her with a look like he had something in his eye. Y/N just stared at him for a few beats, blinking at him and trying to take everything in. It just got worse.

"Alright Steve, what the hell is going on with you?" she demanded. Steve spluttered, no quick response coming to the tip of his tongue like it usually did. Y/N just stared.

"What, uh, what do you mean? I'm just taking in the sights... and... everything," he said. He stared right at Y/N, but the look in his eyes said he was deep in his thoughts, yelling at himself for his own stupidity.

"Are you drunk or something? At work?" Y/N hissed, leaning in to whisper lest one of Steve's bosses hear. Steve looked confused and a little bit panicked, but before things could get really out of hand, Robin poked her head out of the back.

"He's flirting with you," she said, not bothering to beat around the bush for Steve's sake. Steve and Y/N both whirled to face her, matching expressions of shock on their faces. "And he's doing a shit job of it, like with every girl he's tried to flirt with all summer."

"Robin-!" Steve hissed, but she shut the door with a smile and went back to hiding in the back before he could start shouting.

"Steve, is she for real? Were you flirting with me?" asked Y/N, not quite able to believe it. The terrified, mortified expression on Steve's face a heartbeat later was enough to convince her, though. "That was you flirting?"

Y/N couldn't help it. She burst out laughing. She couldn't keep it together enough to form words, but when she saw the heartbroken expression on Steve's face, she found a way to force out a sentence between laughs.

"I'm sorry Steve, I don't want to embarrass you. It's just... what the hell happened to Steve "The Hair" Harrington? You were the smoothest guy in the whole high school, and this is how you flirt?"

"I've been told I've lost my touch lately," mumbled Steve, a backwards glare shot to the closed shutters Robin was hiding behind.

"Yeah, I think I'd have to agree," Y/N wheezed, wiping a tear from her eye as she finally calmed down. "You know, when I thought about what it'd be like to have you flirt with me, it was never anything like that."

Steve grimaced, but the expression was quickly replaced by one of interest as he leaned closer to Y/N. He had a little more confidence back in his posture and voice when he spoke.

"You thought about me flirting with you?"

Now it was Y/N's turn to go bright red with embarrassment.

"Uh... well, maybe, once or twice. When you weren't in your insufferable douchey jock phase."

"Like now?"

"...Yeah, like now."

"Y/N Y/L/N," Steve began, making a big show of fixing Y/N with the look that had worked on countless girls at Hawkins High. The confidence swelled in his chest. "My oldest and dearest friend. Would you like to go on a date with me?"

Y/N smiled, even as she felt the heat rising to her cheeks.

"Yeah, Steve. I would."

"Great," said Steve, his face breaking into a much more genuine smile. "I get off at three. Meet me here, and we'll go get some coffee or something?"

"Sounds perfect," Y/N replied. Steve grinned back at her, the confidence clearly starting to boarder on arrogance, so before she could think too much, Y/N pushed up on the counter and leaned across the distance between her and Steve to give him a quick kiss.

Just like that, Steve melted. He stared at her like he'd seen a ghost as she pulled back, smiling all the while.

"I'll see you in a few hours, Steve," she said, giving him a perky wave as she backed towards the exit of the shop. "And don't worry. I like it when you're cute and awkward."

Steve could only stare after her as she disappeared around a corner into the rest of the mall. Slowly, he brought his hand up to his lips, not quite believing his childhood best friend and new date had really just kissed him in the middle of Scoops Ahoy.

"Well, I guess I have to mark a point on the whiteboard for Harrington now," sighed Robin, popping back out through the shutters with absolutely no sympathy for Steve. "Although, if we're really being honest, it was way more of a point for Y/N."

Steve huffed a laugh before turning to his coworker.

"I hate that stupid whiteboard."

"I know," said Robin with a grin. "That's why I keep it. Maybe I'll show it to Y/N when she gets back. I'm sure she'd get a kick out of it."

Steve just reached over and closed the shutters, forcing Robin to go back into the back room or get caught in the middle. He knew it would only buy him momentary peace, but he wasn't too worried about taking Robin's teasing for the rest of the day.

He had a hell of a bright spot to look forward to at the end of his shift, after all.

[the-atlas-sister]

Chapter Six

"So, you're from the past?" you asked Five. You two were walking along an empty road, pulling a red wagon.

"Yes," Five answered.

"How is that possible?" you questioned.

"Do you remember those kids, who had superpowers?" Fiver sighed.

"I mean I wasn't born when they were around, but, yes," you said.

"I'm one of them," Five said.

"And you can time travel?" you asked.

"As well as perform spacial jumps," Five added.

"Spacial whats?" you said, scrunching up your face.

Five smirked cockily before disappearing. You looked around, amazed by this boy's show of power. "Boo." You let out a yelp, spinning around to come face to face with a smirking Five.

"So, you can teleport!" you exclaimed, not noticing the close proximity to Five.

"I- yes," Five said.

"That's really cool," you said, grinning like a child.

"Thanks."

****

Your eyes snapped open and you let out a shaky breath as Luther stopped the car on the side of the road. After a lot of arguing, Five had finally agreed to let you go with him and Luther to execute their plan, as long as you stayed in the car.

Five unbuckled before looking around. "You know, I never enjoyed it," he sighed.

"What?" Luther asked.

"The killing," Five stated simply. "I mean, I was... I was good at my work and I... I took pride in it." He stopped to look at Luther. "But it never gave me pleasure." He sighed again. "I think it was all those years alone." You looked at him, feeling a bit hurt. Although you didn't remember any of you and Five's time together, you know you indeed were- together. He hadn't been alone. He had you. Didn't he? "Solitude can do funny things to the mind."

"Yeah, well, you were gone for such a long time," Luther said. "I only spent four years on the moon, but that was more than enough." You resisted the urge to roll your eyes at the fact that Luther was relating time on the moon, to living in the apocalypse alone. "It's the being alone that breaks you." Luther and Five sat in silence.

"Do you think they'll buy it?" you asked, motioning to the fake briefcase.

"Well, all I do know is that they're desperate," Five stated. "It's like a cop losing his gun. If the Commission finds out, they'll be in deep shit. And well, not to mention the fact that they'll be stuck here until they get it back."

"Well, I should hold onto it," Luther said.

"Hm?" Five glanced at his brother questionably.

"In case they make a move on you," Luther continued.

"Wait," you said softly. The fact that Five could get hurt dawned on you. You might not have spent a long time with the time traveler, but you couldn't help but feel connected.

"Okay, Luther, but be careful," Five said, genuine worry in his eyes. "I mean, I've... I've lived a long life, but, you're still a young man. You got your whole life ahead of you." Luther looked at him, as if, well as if a 13-year-old boy was telling him he was the young man. "Don't waste it." You let out a laugh, before covering your mouth. Five looked at you as you help back more laughter. "I'm 58, remember?" he said, grabbing your free hand.

"Look," you said suddenly, pointing to a car appearing on the horizon.

"Here we go," Five said. "Stay inside the car, remember?" He looked at you. You nodded at Five kissed your hand softly before getting out of the car. Luther followed quickly before walking into the street.

You watched as the other car pulled up to the other side of the road. "If this all goes sideways," you heard Five say to Luther, making your stomach churn. "Do me a favor and tell Y/N, I'm sorry."

You bit your lip, staring at the raven-haired boy through the window as he began to approach the two people in masks who had exited the car.

You watched them talk, although you couldn't hear from inside the car. You watched as the two threw off their masks.

You noticed Five looks at the car then back to the two. You reached for the door handle urgently as you watched the woman pull out a gun and point it at Five.

Luther placed a hand on the door and shook his head at you.

The woman lowered the gun and approached a nearby telephone booth as Five approached the car again. He leaned on the back of the car as Luther stood next to him.

"What happens now?" you heard Luther ask.

"Now we wait," Five said. You looked at them through the back window.

Then, out of nowhere, a jolly tune was heard. You looked on the horizon, only to see an ice cream truck driving your way.

"What the heck?" you asked aloud.

"Is that her?" you heard Luther ask, although you doubted it. Then, a large grin appeared on your face as you noticed Klaus, waving at you from the driver's side of the truck.

"Klaus!" you exclaimed.

"What the hell is he doing here?" you heard Five say.

Suddenly, the two people pulled out their guns and shoot at Five and Luther. You hopped out of the car and grabbed Five's hand-

Five's POV

Five poked his head out from behind a frozen Luther. He glanced at your frozen figure, your face full of terror, and your hand in his. He gently pried his hand from yours before walking around Luther.

That's when he noticed her.

"Hello, Five," the Handler said, taking off her sunglasses. "You look good, all things considered."

"It's good to see you again," Five said, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

"Feels like we met, just yesterday," the Handler said. "Course, you were a bit older then." She smiled. "Congratulations. On the age regression by the way. Very clever. Threw us all off the scent."

"Ah, well, I wish I could take the credit," Five stated. "I just miscalculated the time dilation projections, and-" He looked to the side before smiling sarcastically at the Handler. "Well, you know. Here I am."

"You realize your efforts are futile," the Handler said. "So why don't you tell me what you really want?" She clasped her hands behind her back.

"I want you to put a stop to it," Five said, mimicking the woman's actions.

"You realize what you're asking for is next to impossible, even for me," the Handler said. "What's meant to be, is meant to be. That's our raison d'etre. You of all people should know that, especially after what you did to your girlfriend over there." She nodded at you.

Five pulled a gun from his pocket and pointed it at the Handler, although she seemed unfazed. "Yeah? Well, how about survival as a raison?"

"I'll just be replaced," the Handler shrugged. "I'm but a... small cog in a machine. This fantasy you've been nurturing about summoning up your family to stop the apocalypse..." She took a few steps forward "Is just that, a fantasy. I must say though-" She took a few more steps. "We're all quite impressed with your initiative, your stick-to-intivenss, really quite... quite something." The Handler held her hands behind her back once more. "Which is why we want to offer you, a new position back at the Commission. In management."

Five chuckled breathlessly. "I'm sorry, what's that now?"

"Come back to work for us again. You know it's where you belong."

"Well, it didn't work out too well the last time," Five stated.

"But you wouldn't be in the correction division any longer," the Handler perswaded. "I'm talking about... the home office. You'd have the best health and pension and an end to this ceaseless time travel." Five blinked, thinking of what it would be like. "You're a distinguished professional in... schoolboy shorts." The Handler walked closer to Five. "We have the technology to reverse the process. I mean you... you can't be happy like this." The Handler lowered Five's gun.

"I'm not looking for happy," Five said his voice hardening.

"We're all looking for happy," the Handler said, stroking Five's cheek gently. "We can make that happen. We can make you... yourself again."

Five looked at Luther and... you. "What about my family?" he questioned.

"What about them?" the Handler asked.

"I want them to survive," Five demanded.

The Handler sighed, looking at Luther, then Klaus and Diego. "All of them?"

"Yes, all of them," Five said. "And Y/N."

"Well," she pulled out her sunglasses and put them on. "I'll see what I can do. As for Y/n... she is meant to die. You know this."

Five frowned but knew she was right. He knew Y/N had to die.

"Do we have a deal?" the Handler said.

"One thing," Five said before walking to Hazel and Cha-Cha's guns. He took out the amo before throwing it and the gun into the field.

He then walked past the Handler and to you. He brushed a loose strand of hair from your face before pressing his lips to yours. He pulled away and grabbed a piece of paper and a pen from his pocket. He quickly wrote something down and placed it into your hand.

The Handler sighed. "Wait," Five said, before approaching the bullet that hung midair in the sky. He grabbed it and positioned it away from Luther. Then he grabbed the Handler's hand and disappeared.

Y/N POV

You let out a scream and ducked as the bullets hit the car.

You watched as the ice cream truck hit Hazel and Cha-Cha's car, tottling it completely.

"Five?" Luther said, making you look up.

"Five?" you said, noticing the fact that Five was gone. "Five!" You looked around, balling your fists. Then you felt something crunch.

You heard people yelling but you ignored it. You leaned on the car, opening your hand to see a folded piece of paper in your hand.

"Y/N! Get in the car!" you heard Luther yell, making you look up before you could read the note. You quickly got in the car, Luther, Klaus, and Diego joining you.

You noticed Klaus give Hazel the middle finger, making you laugh.

You then looked at the note once more. You opened it carefully before reading it to yourself.

Y/N,

I have gone to work with the Commission again. I'm sorry. I love you and I will miss you dearly. And, there is something I haven't told you. The Handler wasn't the one to kill you. I was.

-Five

Find the rest of the chapters here: https://mooskey.tumblr.com/post/662542471939735552/remember-me-five-hargreeves-x-reader

[thelastspeecher]

Here's an idea! It's one of the hottest summer days in Gravity Falls and Danny and Daisy leave to do some business at the golf course, taking a wagon full of supplies. Stan and Angie just assume they're off to collect golf balls. But when they go to bring them home for lunch, they find their daughters conning rich people out of their money selling expensive "homemade lemonade and cookies" to customers. Hiding the store packaging in a bag. Stan looks on with pride, while Angie is flabbergasted!

Sorry it took me a hot minute, but here it is! Hope it's to your specifications! And I'm now officially done with the prompts in my inbox!

———————————————————————————————————–

              The bell over the Gift Shop door jingled.  Without looking up from the money he was counting at the register, Stan spoke.

              “Gift Shop’s closed fer lunch.”

              “It ain’t closed fer yer wife now, is it?”  Stan looked up.  Angie stood in the doorway.  “If it is, we might have to have a chat or two ‘bout shared property.”

              “The Gift Shop’s never closed fer you,” Stan confirmed.  Angie stepped inside and let the door close behind her.

              “Good.”

              “I mean, you’ve got a key.”

              “Stan.”

              “Of course, if ya let me teach you how to pick a lock, ya wouldn’t need one.”

              “Stan.”  Angie rolled her eyes.  “Enough with the lock pickin’.  And don’t think I ain’t aware that you’ve already taught not just the girls, but the boys, too, how to do it.”

              “Who snitched?” Stan asked.  Angie crossed her arms.

              “No one.  I caught Emmett tryin’ to get into the gun safe.  I figured if ya taught him, ya had to teach the others, too.”  Angie sighed.  “I didn’t ground him, but I did tell him to spread word to his siblin’s that they’re not s’pposed to use those lock pickin’ skills to get around our house rules.”

              “It’s not like groundin’ would do anything,” Stan muttered under his breath.  He put the cash back into the register.  “Kid barely leaves the house.”  Angie walked over and punched his arm.  “Ow.”

              “Oh, pish posh, that didn’t hurt ya.”

              “Physically, no.  Emotionally…” Stan said slowly.  Angie snickered quietly.  Seizing the opportunity, Stan flung his arm across his face dramatically.  “Punched in my best arm by my own wife!  I don’t think I’ll ever recover!”  Angie’s snickering became full-on laughter.

              “Dork,” she said, once she was finished laughing.  Stan winked at her.

              “Yer dork.”

              “Yes, yes, yer my dork.”  Angie kissed Stan on the cheek.  “But seriously, try to be a bit more supportive of Emmett, okay?  I know he’s a bit odd and anxious, but he’s a good kid.  And he’s been tryin’ to be more outgoin’ lately.  Or did ya forget that he and Emory are out at another kid’s house?”

              “I know.  That’s why I had to put Soos on register this mornin’.”  Stan frowned.  “Where are the girls, again?”

              “The golf course.”

              “Why?  I thought we raised ‘em better than to spend time ‘round rich people,” Stan said.  Angie shrugged.

              “They’re collectin’ golf balls.  There’s good money in resellin’ ‘em if ya retrieve ‘em from sand traps ‘n ponds ‘n whatnot.”

   ��          “Huh.”  Stan nodded slowly.  “Good.  I knew those two were smart.”

              “All the kids are smart.”  Angie checked her watch.  “Speakin’ of the girls, I figured we’d drop some lunch off fer ‘em.  Don’t want ‘em to use their hard-earned money on junk food or somethin’.”

              “It’s their money, they can spend it on what they want.”

              “We have perfectly fine food at home.  They shouldn’t spend money to buy ice cream from the lil shop across the street,” Angie said firmly.  Stan raised an eyebrow.

              “There’s an ice cream shop across the street from the golf course?”

              “Yes.”

              “Let’s get goin’.”  Stan grabbed his car keys.  Angie sighed.  “Ang, we’ve been over this.  I can be immature as long as I’m technically still more mature than the kids.”

              “I hate when ya nickel ‘n dime stuff like this,” Angie muttered.  Stan kissed her forehead.

              “Don’t act like yer not in the mood fer ice cream, too.”

              “…Maybe,” Angie conceded.  Stan waggled his eyebrows at her.  “All right, we can get ice cream.”

-----

              When the Stanleymobile turned onto the street the golf course was on, they immediately saw the line.

              “What the hell?” Stan muttered.  “Is golf really that popular here?”

              “Given how long we’ve lived in Gravity Falls, I think we’d know if golf was the most popular pastime fer folks,” Angie said.  “There’s got to be some other reason folks are lined up like that.”  She leaned forward.  “Looks like the crowd’s in the parkin’ lot.  Ya best park at the ice cream shop.”

              “Gladly.”  Stan turned into the ice cream shop’s parking lot, came to a stop, and turned off the car.  He looked at a poster on the outside of the shop, advertising a new flavor.  “They’ve got yer favorite flavor, Ang.”

              “Really?!”  Angie looked over.  She gasped.  “Places almost never have peaches ‘n cream!”

              “So we’re definitely stoppin’ after we give the girls their lunch?”

              “Oh, definitely,” Angie said firmly.  She and Stan got out of the car.  Angie grabbed the bag lunches before closing the passenger side door.  Stan looked across the street.  Now that they were closer, he could see the cause of the crowd.  There was some sort of stand set up in the parking lot.

              “What’s that stand sellin’ and where do I get some cheap?” he asked idly.  Angie rolled her eyes.

              “You sell more ‘n enough as is.”

              “We’ve got smart kids that need to go to college.”

              “Yes, and ‘cause they’re smart, they’ll get scholarships.  Like I did.”  Angie began to walk away.  “Or did ya forget?” she called over her shoulder.  Stan jogged briefly to catch up with her.

              “I know they’ll get scholarships, but you gotta be prepared for everything,” he said.  “The kids sometimes have issues in school.  What if they lose their scholarships over that?”

              “By the time college comes ‘round, they’ll be better equipped to handle what causes issues fer ‘em,” Angie said.

              “Yeah, but-”  Stan came to a sudden stop.  He’d heard a familiar voice.  He looked at Angie.  Judging by her expression, she’d heard the same thing.  “Are ya sure the girls wanted to come here to collect golf balls?”

              “They didn’t actually tell me what they were doin’.  I assumed.”

              “Ya know what they say about assumin’,” Stan muttered.  The familiar voice from before carried above the chatter of the crowd.

              “That’ll be five dollars, thank you, sir.”

              “They’re not collectin’ golf balls,” Angie said quietly.

              “Not unless somethin’ stole Daisy’s voice like when I got my face stolen that one time.”

              “Ugh.  Don’t remind me.”  Angie sighed.  “Should we get in line?”

              “What?  No!  We’re their parents.  That makes us VIPs,” Stan said firmly.  He grabbed Angie’s free hand and pulled her through the crowd, ignoring people scolding them for cutting ahead.  When they got to the stand, they could see it was surprisingly well-made.  A sign at the top read “D&D’s Homestyle Treats”.  And behind the stand stood their thirteen-year-old twin daughters, Danny and Daisy.

              “Uh-oh,” Danny mumbled quietly.  Daisy, however, grinned toothily.

              “Hi Ma!  Hi Dad!  Do you want some homemade stuff?” she asked.  Angie crossed her arms.

              “Homemade?”

              “Yep!”

              “I don’t recall ya makin’ lemonade ‘n cookies at home ‘fore ya left.”

              “You’re getting older, maybe you’re forgetting,” Daisy suggested.  Danny gasped.  She punched her twin’s shoulder.

              “Daisy don’t say somethin’ so rude!”

              “What?  It’s true.  Anyways, Ma and Dad, could we have this conversation a bit away from our customers?”

              “Smart,” Stan said with a nod.  He and Angie walked a few feet away.  Danny carefully placed a sign that said “Back in ten minutes” on the stand, then she and Daisy joined their parents.  “All right you two.  Spill.”

              “We’re just bein’ entrepreneurs like you raised us,” Danny said.  Angie frowned at her.  “What?”

              “Are ya actually sellin’ homemade goods?”

              “Uh, no,” Daisy said.  “They’re store-bought.”

              “Then why are ya claimin’ it’s homemade?”

              “There’s better money in it,” Daisy said simply.  Stan nodded again.

              “Smart,” he repeated.  Angie gave him a look.  “What?  It is!  I think we should be proud of the girls fer bein’ so savvy.”

              “I-”  Angie kneaded her forehead.  “I didn’t raise y’all to lie.”

              “Too bad,” Daisy said with a shrug.  “Dad did.”

              “We’re not completely lying,” Danny put in.  “There’s an asterisk on the sign after the word ‘homemade’ and if anyone asks we’ll tell ‘em the truth.  We’re also saying the asterisk out loud, but since asterisks don’t make sounds, they can’t hear it.”

              “Heh!”  Stan grabbed his daughters and gave them affectionate noogies.  “That’s my girl!  Havin’ a way out on a technicality!  I’m so proud of you two!”

              “It…is very clever,” Angie said slowly.  She sighed.  “Did yer Uncle Fidds help ya set up the stand?”

              “Yep!” Daisy chirped.

              “Where is he?”

              “The ice cream shop across the street.  Don’t worry, he’s been keepin’ an eye on us,” Danny said.  Angie nodded.

              “Good.  Good.  I’m fine with the two of ya doin’ things unsupervised, but even in Gravity Falls, I feel more comfortable knowin’ yer sellin’ stuff to strangers if’n ya have someone we trust nearby to watch ya.”

              “Especially in Gravity Falls,” Stan corrected his wife.  “Or did you forget when the gnomes tried to kidnap Danny?”  Danny shuddered.

              “Stupid weird little men,” she muttered.  Angie sighed again.

              “All right, all right.  I’ll let this slide.  You two can go back to makin’ money by lyin’.”

              “We did learn it from Dad,” Daisy pointed out.

              “That’s precisely why I’m lettin’ it slide.”  Angie smiled fondly.  “Ya best get back ‘fore yer customers get impatient.”  Stan let Danny and Daisy loose.  “First, take yer lunches.”  Angie handed over the lunch bags.  The girls quickly gave each parent a hug before scurrying back to their stand.  Stan looked at Angie.

              “Yer proud of ‘em.  I can tell.”

              “I can’t deny that you were right ‘bout this bein’ savvy behavior,” Angie said.  “Thinkin’ things through like this will help get ‘em far in life.”  Stan put his arm around Angie’s shoulders.

              “Yep.”  He grinned.  “So…ice cream?”

              “Yes.  Ice cream.”

[crystalcow]

6𝑡ℎ 𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑒𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑐ℎ𝑎𝑟𝑚//𝑃𝑢𝑛𝑧

Masterlist

Punz x reader !cc

Pronouns used: she/her

Warnings: swearing, soft punz

‿︵‿︵ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ・❉・ ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ‿︵‿︵

I adjusted my hair in the side mirror view of my car and adjusted my jacket. I’m just hoping I don’t fuck this night up, I mean I only have one chance to make 𝘵𝘩𝘦 girl fall inlove with me.

I straightened out my jacket one last time before I went up the steps to her door. Do I knock? Or should I ring the doorbell.. I don’t necessarily come off as annoying but I want to make my presence known.

So I picked the safest option, I knocked door three times. I stood there awkwardly just waiting for three minutes in the chilly weather. Okay shes not answering.. So I rung the doorbell instead, and not merely a 30 seconds later I heard the door Handel jiggle.

I took a deep breath as the heavy door swung open. Then there stood infront of me probably one of the most gorgeous girls I’ve ever met, my mouth was probably still agape as she coughed making her presence known.

“Good evening mlady.” I smirked jokingly bowing. “Oh wow Puzs, you actually made it upon yourself to look nice for once.” I rolled me eyes standing back up straight. “Oh please I always look just as dashingly handsome.” I crossed my arms leaning against the doorframe while she put her head in her hands.

“God why did I agree to going out with you.” I pouted throwing my hands up into the air, “Because I’m just the best doll, you couldn’t resist me one bit.” She turned around to look at me tilting her head to the side looking at me questionably.

“Oh right I remember now!” “Was it because your inlove with me?” I shot hopefully, “No because you wouldn’t stop asking! Now shall we move along now?” She chuckled as I felt my ears heat up a little bit. “I only asked you out twice.” I mumbled as I opened her door.

“Oh really? I think I remember the first time on Christmas, then on new years, and on Valentine’s Day, and you broke your holiday streak by asking me out yesteday.” I put the keys into the ignition starting up the car as shitty radio music started playing.

“You want the aux cord?” I asked as she nodded plugging her phone in after choosing a playlist. I sniggered as cheesy vintage love songs rang through my ears.

“Damn Y/n never knew you had such music taste.” I tapped the steering wheel to the beat as the soft melodic tune of ‘Be my Baby’ by the Ronettes bounced around on the speakers.

My old wagon jeep holding up, the tank of a little less then half. “This stupid car, gas prices are fucking expensive.” She was turned looking out of the window, the street lamps in the dark reflecting beautifully on her skin.

“I’m a little skeptical about this.” “Skeptical how?” I questioned. “For starters you won’t tell me where we’re going.” I let out a small ‘oh’ remembering that I hadn’t really made a set stone plan for the night.

Shit, I was more focused on my outfit and preparing what to say rather then actually knowing what we’re gonna do. I’ll just try playing it off cool!

“Well I could take you to one of my favorite secret spots ontop of a mountain as we look down at all the street lights, or my spot at a river as we dip our feet in looking at a water.”

Her face lit up as I looked down at my lap, But we don’t have any of that here so I’m taking you for some pizza and ice cream!”

We both looked at each other the same time as we burst into giggles. “You came up with that on the spot didn’t you.” She managed to croak out though the small fit of laughter. “Yeah- yeah I did.” My face was probably beet red by now but it’s completely fine because so was hers.

+*:ꔫ:*﹤

After a couple minutes of driving around we landed in the old downtown area. The suburbs never have anything going for them, except the little mini city’s.

I graciously opened her door for her like the kind gentleman I am as we walked inside Sarpinos pizza walking up to the counter. “What do you think you’ll get, I’m feeling sausage.” I asked as she looked through the options, “Sausage sounds delicious but pepperoni sounds better.”

We stepped up to the person to order our food, “Excuse me, may we get half pepperoni and half sausage, mm and 2 cokes.” I asked as the lady wrote down our order ringing us up. “That’ll be 15.56 $. Also you both are a very cute couple.”

I was about to intervene before Y/n came up to me wrapping her hands around my arm. “We do, don’t we.” She muttered as I was thankfully able to hear as I grinned walking twords our booth, her on one side me on the other.

+*:ꔫ:*﹤

Time passed by as we both stayed at that very booth for probably an hour or two both chatting away laughing while eating our pizza. If anybody just walked in and saw the two of us it would’ve seemed like we’ve been dating for months or maybe years by how well we got each other.

I learned a lot of things about her tho, a couple siblings and how shes studying in photography. I told her about my shitty living style and about my dog teddy, along with the conversation about my friends.

I could tell she warmed up to me the more we talked and no matter how cheesy it sounds it just made butterfly’s implode in my stomach. I don’t know how people normally describe something beautiful.

Maybe something they love, the sky or the beach. But I don’t think I could even put it in words how I feel or what my minds going through. We just clicked like two puzzle pieces that aren’t supposed to go together but they just do.

+*:ꔫ:*﹤

“Want to go get some dessert?” I asked as she nodded, we both got up and left the cute pizzeria down the street to the icecream parlor. Somehow someway on our short walk out fingers managed to get intertwined with each other.

“So tell me, what had made you so entranced that you asked me out for the 6th time?” Ah there’s that question, the one I’ve been anticipating and the most nervous for the whole night. I mean sure it would’ve come up sooner or later but she has the right to curiosity.

I could always reply with an over egotistical remark but I’m going to stick with something a little more formal. “Maybe because I couldn’t keep my eyes off you as you walked through the hall,” I looked around before continuing,

“How you’d answer the questions the teacher gave you correctly every time, or when you didn’t know you would look over to your friend for help with pleading eyes. It’s just the way you embrace your imperfections and how you just always manage to catch my eye.”

I blurted out not even thinking much about what I was saying. She was silent, a bit stunned of my words. If we’re being honest I am to. “Punz buy me a drink first before you admit your in love.” She chuckled breaking the silence as I hit her arm.

“Will Icecream do? I’d like to remember this night, thankyou.” “Fine we’ll save it for the next date.” I stood there with furrowed eyebrows. “What do you mean next date? Okay yeah our next date the one after this one. Next date holy shit.”

I didn’t even notice that while I was in my petrified state of shock, she had already came back with two cones in her hand.

“You paid for the pizza the least I could do was pay for the icecream, I’m sorry I didn’t know which ones you liked so I got Vanilla and strawberry, you can’t really go wrong with vanilla.”

I took a lick out of the icecream, “So basic.” I playfully rolled my eyes as I looked outside the big shop window. She scoffed resting her head in her hand.

I saw little splatters of rain droplets as we both came to a finish. I wiped the little bit of icecream off her nose chuckling at how adorable that looked. “We should go before the rain gets too bad.” I saw the disappointment in her face as the night had to come to an end eventually.

“Well we still have the car ride back to my house, let’s make the most of it.” We walked outside as the rain started pouring down on us. Our hair and outfits already getting a little soaked. “Wait inside Ill pull up my car.” I said shrugging off my jacket putting it over her shoulders.

“Are you stupid, your going to freeze!” “Well better me then you.” I said running to the area we parked. I scrimmaged through my pockets to pull out my keys as my hair turned into wet shambles. I managed to get inside, thankfully the roof was up as I drove over to the little icecream shop.

“Hop in” I opened the passenger as she threw herself inside turning the heat up. “Holy shit that rain is cold.” I sighed leaning back into my seat. “How do people dance in that shit?”

We both laughed as the car started warming up. Once I was somewhat dry again I started the engine driving down the road as the light reflected on the pouring rain.

I managed to slickly put my right hand on her thigh as I saw her neck start burning. “Want to know one thing I never expected?” I said as we pulled up to the red light.

“What?” “I never thought I could fall inlove with you twice in one night.” We both leaned together as our lips softly touched being seperated by the honk of the car behind us.

“I’m glad I said yes after 6 times.”

‿︵‿︵ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ・❉・ ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ‿︵‿︵

I’ve had this in my drafts- anyways request or ask anything! And if you want to be on a taglist just ask

[thewildomega]

Feral Red Dog Ch.5

Opening your eyes the horror from your dreams faded away. Looking at the wall of the room you blinked. Bright light shinned in from the window facing out towards the garden, the pink petals from the cherry blossom trees floating in the breeze. What time was it? Hearing the ticking of a clock you moved your eyes around until they landed on a clock sitting on the dresser, 11:37? It was nearly noon but you were still so tired. Your body felt heavy and your mind fuzzy. Glancing down you blinked again, no clothes, only a white sheet and duvet covering you. Moving to roll over you hissed through your teeth and squeezed your eyes shut. Oh, oh damn it hurt, everything hurt. Making it to your back something red caught your eye and you turned your head enough to look at it. Red blotches spotted the white bedding, blood. Suddenly it all came back to you. 

You gotten married yesterday. To Sakazuki. Last night was your wedding night. The both of you had... mated... more than once you believed but you couldn't really remember much after the... Pushing your hand up to your neck you felt over the extremely tender wound with your trembling fingers. A bite, he had claimed you. Tears were quickly filling your eyes and rolling down your temples. He had done this, mated you and claimed you all against your will. Feeling your lip tremble you rolled back to your side. 

Crying there for a time you decided it was time to get up but when you moved to stand you choked back a sob. Holding your lower abdomen with your hand when the pain rippled there you paused. Regaining yourself you bit your lip as you pushed yourself to your feet, your legs unsteady. Looking back to the bed you saw more blood stains in the middle where he had taken your virtue. Dropping your head you took in a shaky breath and started towards the bathroom in the hall. Closing the door behind you you turned on the light and lifted your eyes to the mirror but gasped at what you saw. Bruises, bites, handprints, your body was littered with them. Your lips were swollen and red, looked to be a slight bruising to the bottom one as well. Looking down for the first time you noticed the smear of blood on the inside of your thighs. Licking your lips you turned on the water to the shower. 

After taking as hot of a shower as you could manage, scrubbing your body and whimpering when you rubbed over your raw feeling nipples and sex you got out. Drying off and brushing your teeth then hair you wrapped a towel around you, the things huge on you, and headed out towards the bedroom. After remembering that he had moved your clothes you went back into his room and peeked through the drawers until you found your clothes folded up and placed in beside his. Pulling them on proved to be a difficult task, at this point you weren't sure if the bruise there would be from you or him. 

Bathed and dressed you stripped the bed to be washed. You didn't much give a shit about pleasing him but you didn't want to keep looking at the proof of what had happened last night either. It hurt to move around much, your body feeling like you had been ran over by a wagon. After starting the wash you fixed yourself something to drink and a small breakfast. Sitting at the table you chewed your food slowly thinking how in the hell you had ended up in a situation like this. You regretted leaving that island now, you should have just stayed there like Garp and Sengoku had told you to. Sighing you finished the meal and drank the rest of your tea. Just what the hell did you do now?

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

Finishing up with his work a little later than he wanted today he removed his hat long enough to brush his hair back before putting it back on. Stopping on his way home to pick up something for them both to eat since she never seemed to cook a decent meal he continued on his way with the paper bag in hand. Seeing the worker of the ice cream shop closing up for the day he let out a sigh, he should probably pay the young man for the ice cream his omega had stolen. Walking over to him he saw the man look up, his eyes widening a bit before speaking.

"Oh Vice Admiral w..what can I do for you? I was just closing up but if you would like some..."

"No. Yesterday you were yelling about someone running off without paying, a woman. It was my omega... I mean my wife. I assure you I have punished her for her crime and I would like to pay for it now." he told the young man, moving to take out his wallet. 

"Y..your wife? Sir that's not possible I mean... that can't be your wife." Seeing the terrifying man raise his brow he licked his lips. "I think there has been some mix up here sir."

"What do you mean? Yesterday you were yelling about a woman running off without paying and..."

"Sir it wasn't a woman, it was a girl. A little girl and her friend."

"You are sure? My wife said that you gave her the treat...for free."

"Oh yes I remember her, pretty young woman, red hair." he smiled but instantly straightened up when he saw the man's hard eyes. "I mean nothing by it sir. Yes I gave your wife a free sample." 

"Why?" he asked, his voice coming out deeper, the alpha in him thinking this young man was a threat to his omega.

"Well just because sir, she was walking by all by herself and she looked rather lonely so I thought it might help cheer her up. We have a new flavor anyways and sometimes giving out samples helps with business you know." he said with a small grin. "Your wife though she was very kind, kept asking if I was sure it was okay to give her some for free." 

She hadn't stole the ice cream, she wasn't a thief. She kept trying to tell him she hadn't but he didn't believed her, he had just assumed the worst of her. While yes she had left the house when he had told her not to, breaking one of the rules he had set and angering him he still felt guilty now for falsely accusing her. Last night he had even punished her for stealing and then lying about it. After spanking her repeatedly when she kept saying she had cried out what he thought was false innocence she had finally broke and admitted to the crime. But she had been innocent the whole time. "I see." he sighed. 

"I do hope she liked it, I had a big rush come over as soon I gave it to her so I never got to get her opinion on it."

Looking down to his wallet he pulled out a small bill, "I wouldn't know but how about making a small one of the same flavor and I'll let you know what she thinks tomorrow." 

Nodding the young man smiled, "Sure thing." 

Walking into his home with the bag in one hand and the small ice cream in the other he removed his shoes at the door, tossing his hat and keys to the entry table. He could hear the dryer going but that was it. Knitting his brows when something hit his nose he quietly walked into the dining room and stopped when he saw the table set. Two bowls of what sorta looked like beef stir fry and two cups of tea were placed at their spots at the small table. She had made dinner, an actual dinner. He didn't yet know how it tasted but it at least smelled good.

Setting the ice cream and take out on the counter he went in search of his omega wife. She hadn't been in the living room or kitchen, the bathroom door was open and he didn't see her in either of the rooms. He did however notice that the bed had no blankets on it, only sheets. Getting angry at first when the idea that she may have yet again ran away filled his mind he was walking towards the door, about to yell her name when he stopped. Back up a step he turned towards the door to the garden and saw it was partially opened. Sliding the door open the rest of the way he looked outside and saw her there. Walking quietly over to her he saw her laying on her front in the grass with her arms crossed under her head, a book beneath them. One look to her face and he could tell she was sleeping. 

Breathing out he thought of what to do. On one hand he didn't want to wake her, she looked so peaceful right now but on the other she hadn't eaten yet and she was still thin. No he had to wake her, she had to eat. Crouching down beside her he brushed back the lock of hair that had fallen to her face and gently shook her shoulder. "Y/n. Come on wake up." he spoke in a deep low voice but she only groaned in response. Sighing he shook her a little harder. "Omega I said wake up." 

" 'm sleepy." you told the meanie as he tried to wake you, lifting your arm to try and push away his hand that was shaking you. 

Grabbing her wrist he knit his brows at the red area on her palm. "What happened to your hand?"

"Burnt it while cookin' supper." 

Sighing he scooped her up into his arms and stood, feeling her tense and then whine. "Hush, you can sleep after you eat something." Taking her into the dining room he set the book she had been reading on the counter before sitting her in her spot and saw her wince but didn't say anything for now. Moving to his own spot he set down and grabbed the chop sticks. Looking down sat the food he rose a brow but took some and placed it in his mouth. To say he was pleasantly surprised was an understatement. It was actually decently good. Glancing over to her as he chewed his second bite he saw her head dipped down, only lifting enough to place a piece of beef into her mouth. 

Refusing to look up to him you waited for him to start complaining. You knew it wasn't the best food in the world but you thought it was better than the fish you had attempted to cook. Still you knew he would have something hurtful to say. He wouldn't care if you had tried your best on it, if it wasn't perfect then it didn't matter. 

Watching her slowly eat, refusing to meet his eyes he swallowed the food in his mouth and reached for the tea. It was cold, the same as the food but too be fair he had been later than normal today. Besides, holding the cup in his hand he instantly warmed it back up to the right temperature. taking a sip and then placing it down he saw her eyes look the steaming drink, her brow twitching before she looked back down. Seeing her collar fall some he took sight of the deep and angry looking claiming mark on her neck and felt his lip twitch. Mixing the food a bit he glanced to her and then the food, taking a breath. "The rice is overcooked and a bit too much soy sauce..." watching her shoulders curl up some he licked his lips. "...There's room for improvement but it's good.... I like it."

What? Had you heard him right? Slowly looking up to him you saw his face relaxed for once and grinned a little. It wasn't an outright compliment but you would take it. 

"Where did you learn to make it?" he asked as he continued eating. 

"Tsuru used to make it for me."

Humming he swallowed, "That explains the overuse of soy sauce, I believe the woman could drink the stuff. Probably why her face is always scrunched up." he said and heard a small giggle. Shooting his eyes to his wife he saw her smiling some as she looked down to her bowl. He couldn't help but grin a little at the cheerful sound.

The rest of their meal was spent in silence. He finished before her and when he glanced to her bowl he saw she still had a little of rice left but she didn't look as if she wanted any more of it. Figuring she was done eating he had stood and moved to grab her Ice Cream, sitting it in front of her. 

Looking down at the ice cream you knit your brows and then lifted your eyes up to his to see him starring down at you. He looked even more humongous from this view. 

"I know you didn't steal the ice cream yesterday." he told her in a low voice. He hated admitting when he was wrong, when he had done wrong. 

Dropping your eyes back to the frozen treat you bit the inside of your lip. 

"Well aren't you going to eat it?"

Taking a deep breath you looked back up to him. "No." 

Growling he narrowed his eyes at her, "Why not? 

Grabbing the small cup you stood, holding back your discomfort and moved over to the kitchen. "Because this doesn't make it all better. This doesn't make what you did right." hearing his growl deepen and seeing his lip lift into a snarl you kept your head up, refusing to back down. 

"EAT IT!"

"NO! You hurt me, you punished me for a crime I didn't commit! I tried telling you I didn't steal it but you didn't believe me. You didn't even give me a chance to explain you just chose to think the worst of me!" you yelled back, dropping the ice cream into the trash. 

Seeing her throw away the treat he had bought for her he snarled, steam rolling from his shoulders. "Well if you hadn't left the house like I told you to none of that would have happened in the first place!"

"I am not your prisoner! You can't keep me locked up in this damn house for the rest of my life!"

Chuckling darkly he moved closer to her, starring down at her. "Can't I?" he asked and saw her brows knit together. Backing her up to the cabinet he placed his hands on either side of her to block her in and leaned over her some. "I know omegas aren't the brightest bunch but I will only say this once more so you would do well to remember it. You are mine. You belong to me. I own you therefor I can do whatever I want with you. If I want to never have you see the light of day again it will be so. If I want to chain you to my bed and make you my own personal fuck toy I will. I am your alpha and you will obey me."

"You're no better than a damn pirate." you hissed. 

Clenching his teeth he had his hand fisted in her hair before she knew it. Holding onto her tightly while his other hand unbuckled his belt and undid his pants he felt her try and push him away but it didn't even make him budge. Pulling down the waistband of his boxers he allowed his already hard member spring free. When she averted her eyes, refusing to even look at his cock he only smirked. "I am getting fed up with that sass of yours. This mouth is for sucking my cock not talking back." Gripping his cock he tilted her head back and tapped the head on her closed lips. "Open." When her bruised lips remained shut he snarled, "Open!" he commanded, using his alpha voice. Seeing them part a little he pushed the tip past her lips but then stopped and glared down at her when a thought crossed his mind. "You bite me little one and I will make your life a living hell." he warned. 

Feeling him press his cock into your mouth you gave an small suck and heard him let out a sigh. When he kept his painful grip in your hair you felt him slowly push your head down to take him deeper. It didn't take long for him to hit the back of your throat, making you let out a small gag. Instantly you tried to stand back to full height but he only pinned you to the cabinets. 

She had only taken about half of him and she was already gagging. Rolling his eyes he reminded himself that she had never done this before he urged her to take more. When he had forced most of it down her throat he let out a deep moan and let his head fall back some. Damn she felt good. No she wasn't skilled but her mouth and throat were warm and tight. 

Pushing on his hips when you ran out of air you heard him let out a deep breath and loosen his grip just a little, the pain no longer making your scalp burn. Coming off you sucked at the tip but then heard him speak again, his voice deep and husky. 

"Use your tongue." 

His voice was gruff but you obeyed. Cupping the underside with your tongue you heard him breath out a 'Good omega.' not caring at all for the way it made a pressure build between your thighs. Sucking harder you felt him bob your head up and down until soon you caught on to the rhythm and found yourself fucking him with your mouth. A mixture of saliva and precum dripped down your chin but he didn't seem to notice. Nor for the tears leaking from the corner of your eyes. 

She was starting to learn. Good. Smirking he loosened the grip in her hair and started petting her head. "That's it, keep sucking your alpha's cock." he said in a low voice. He was close but he held back.

Your jaw now ached along with the rest of your body. It had been almost fifteen minutes now and he had not let you stop. You were sure your throat would be bruised from the pounding of his dick. How desperate your lungs were to get a full breath of air. When you felt his thighs that were bigger around than your waist start to flex and then his hand in your hair tighten again you glanced up at him. He looked at you once, his lip twitching as he pulled almost the whole way out. Was he done? Before you could think hard on it he was shoving back in, plunging his thick dick down your throat and filling it with a hot, bitter fluid. His deep growls and grunts filled the air of the home. You tried to pull away, push him away but he held you in place, you closed your lips around his shaft as it threatened to spill out. Choking on it you felt some drip out of the corners of your mouth. When he had filled your entire mouth with his seed he slowly pulled out and glared down at you with those cold black eyes. 

Holding the back of her neck to keep her upright he glared down at her. "Swallow." he commanded. He could see the will to fight in her eyes but with a lift of his lip she finally submitted and he watched her throat bob as she swallowed his seed. Grabbing her jaw with his other hand he squeezed, wiping up the drop of cum on her chin and pushing his thumb up to her lips. "Open." he said and pushed the drop into her mouth when she did, making sure she had swallowed all of it. "Now that wasn't so hard was it?" he told her. She said nothing in reply and he smirked as he released her and stepped back. "Clean up dinner." was all he said before walking away. 

Standing where he had left you for a moment you heard the shower turn. Tears rolled down your cheeks and you felt sick to your stomach. Shaking you turned and stumbled over to the table to clean up. Once that all was done you placed the take out food he had gotten in the fridge before moving to grab the dried blankets for his bed. Quickly making it you turned off the lights and moved to the guest bedroom, curling up under the covers, tears spilling from your eyes. 

Getting out of the shower he checked the kitchen and dining room to find them both clean. Huffing he grinned, good girl. Walking to his bedroom he pulled on a pair of boxers and went to get into bed when he saw it empty, only the freshly cleaned bedding there. Narrowing his eyes he walked to the guest bedroom door and saw it cracked. Pushing it open he saw her sleeping on the bed, curled up tightly under the covers. While he wanted to wake her, demand she go get into his bed he took notice of her light shaking from leftover sobs and sighed. Closing his eyes he turned and walked out of the room, cracking the door back and moving to his own empty bed. Sniffing the bedding he growled lightly, it didn't even smell like her. Dropping his head down to his pillow he closed his eyes and went to sleep. 

A/N: Comments always welcome. :)

[worldismyne]

Hevvin's Day Off

Approximate Date of Origin: 9/21/12

Author: Unknown; I do not take credit for this fic

Rated: T

Summary: Hevvin-centric drabble

Hevvin sat at the table, eating a strawberry - vanilla ice cream. He reviewed a list. it was titled  "Daily List"    He sighed.             DAILY LIST 6:00 - Hide in bushes and wait for Finn to go to school 6:30 - Chase Finn to school 7:00 - Eat breakfast 8:00 - Terrorize other innocents 12:00 - Have lunch 1:30 - Chase Finn home from school 2:00 ~ 6:00 - Try to kill Finn 7:00 - Eat dinner 8:00 - Go to sleep Hevvin's brow furrowed. Most of the things he was supposed to do today revolved around hurting Finn. But today, Finn was home sick. With his mom being a witch and all, Finn would be well by tomorrow.... she'd probably just whip him up a potion of some sort. But that left about a whole day of nothing to do. "Urrgggg!!!" he moaned, then slammed his head down on the table. It was only 6:55. He had a whole day to fill, and he didn't have much else to do. Hevvin could just hear Finn's shrieks of terror as he stepped outside, seeing the glint of a horn hellbent on stabbing him a few million times. The very thought of it sent a shiver of pleasure down his spine and an evil smile spread clear across his face. After finishing off his ice cream, Hevvin decieded to go to Warrior U. If there was anything he could do today, he'd probably find someone to torture there. He walked into the forest and turned back into his unicorn form. Shaking his mane, Hevvin trotted off to Warrior U. Then, he began to run. Just feeling the wind whip around him sent another evil smile across his face and he burst out in a fit of meniacal laughter. "NI HI HI HI HI HI HI HI!!!!!!" THUMP..... THUMP.... THUMP..... Hevvin sat wide eyed in the bush near the school. Treavor was walking to class. He always scared Hevvin. He was afraid Treavor would sit on him. No, Treavor was not the one he would go after today..... Hevvin looked around. The only other living thing he saw was a bird. Darn, he missed everyone. It would be hours before they got out. Hevvin began to turn and walk away when he heard a loud noise in the street. He glanced back. A wagon was pulling up. Herv was driving it. Seems he was late for school. Hevvin smiled. "NI HI HI HI HI HI HI!!!!!!!!!!!!" Hevvin jumped out and pointed his horn at Herv. Herv rolled his eyes. "Hevvin? Look, I really don't have time for this. I'm already late for class. And Finn isn't even here." And with that said, Herv raced into the school just as the bell rang. Hevvin sat in his home, rearanging his skull collection over and over and over again. He was bored out of his mind. Now that he thought about it, most of the fun things he did involved harming Finn in some way. If he had to go through another minute of this, he was going to go insane.... well, MORE insane....... he HAD to find something to do..... Hevvin went to the village. He looked around in the stores, but found really nothing he liked. Well, he did find a little skull belt buckle, which he purchased. It was silver, with rubies for eyes and a menacing smile. Hevvin though it made him look even more evil. Though, how evil can you look when you're a unicorn? He went to the beach, but there was no one to drown, so it wasn't as fun there either.... Hevvin stood on the path to Finn's house, in his human form, thinking. Would this work? Well, he might as well try. Nothing better to do... He walked up to the door and knocked. Leenan, Finn's mother, answered the door. She had a shocked look on her face. "Who are you?" she asked. Hevvin hesitated. If he told her his REAL name, Finn would insist he stay out. And that wouldn't work.... "Ehhem... I'm..... erm.... " "Oh whatever." Leenan snapped "What do you WANT?" Ah ha, here was his chance..... "I'm one of Finn's friends and I want to wish him a get well." Hevvin lied smoothly. That did the trick. "Oh! Well, I guess you could stop by for a little while..... Finn's been awful lonely today....." Leenan gestured for him to come inside. Hevvin smiled politely at her as he walked inside the big house. The door creaked open. There was a bed in one corner with purple sheets on it. Finn lay under the

sheets, looking positively angry. Hevvin smiled. Perfect. Finn was weak and Herv wasn't around to protect him today. But he would have to watch out for Finn's mother.......  Well, if worse comes to worse, he would change forms and bust the window to escape..... "ni hi hi hi hi hi......" he laughed softly. Finn's eyes widened. His eyes darted around the room. "Wh...who's there?" he stuttered. Hevvin slinked into the room. Finn nearly had a heart attack. "WHHAAAAAaa-" Finn screeched, only to be silenced by Hevvin. Hevvin chuckled. "Well, well...... look what we have here.... little Finn, all alone, weak in bed........" Finn tried to say something, or scream something, but Hevvin had a firm clamp on his mouth. Hevvin pulled out a small dagger with his free hand and held it to Finn's throat. Finn was crying, the tears streaming down his cheeks. it was so simple, so easy. Hevvin could finish this quick and.... and then what? Hevvin remembered how utterly bored he had been all day without being able to torture Finn. If he killed Finn now, he wouldn't be able to try to torment him later on. What else could he do? Hevvin pulled back the blade and sheathed it again. Finn looked up at him with confused, and rather shocked, eyes. Hevvin smiled evily again. Then before Finn could say anything else, Hevvin switched back to unicorn form and burst through the window. As Hevvin ran back into the woods, he let loose another round of maniacal laughter. "NI HI HI HI HI HI HI HI HI!!!!!" Finn would have screamed, but he fainted as soon as he heard the laughter coming from the forest outside. Hevvin raced back to his home, all the while thinking of new ways to completely devastate Finn's life. He could just imagine Finn screaming..... and more vanilla ice cream...... This was the best job in the world.

[riofann]

Rio Random 3

TW: Alcoholism

Part 1    Part 2 

You don’t hear from him for the next month or so. He doesn’t pay you any visits, no calls or texts. Nothing radio silence on his end. You contemplated calling him but what would that do? Nothing! Nothing he could say or do would make you feel any better at the moment. Plus you couldn’t just go back to him with open arms even though you wanted to. There were many levels of betrayal here and a simple I’m sorry wouldn't fix things, it couldn’t.

You were woken up from your sleep on the couch, typical for you these days. You were too afraid to sleep in your bedroom afraid that anything could happen and you being in the back of the house away from the door and windows didn’t make you feel safe. You hear the knock again before sitting up. Slowly you walk down the steps, when you look through the peephole you see Mick getting ready to break in before you open the door. 

"Hey" you say using the door for support

Rio steps into your house before speaking, irritation laced in his tone “What were you doing we were knocking for a long time"

“I was asleep, you could just break in like normal.” Mick steps in after Rio “Hi Mick” 

With a head nod Mick says “Sup”

You close the door and lean your head on it. You were still sozzled. Another thing you picked up after the great revelation. You would drink yourself to sleep every night. 

“You aiight?” Rio asks leaning to the side to look at you “Hmm!” You perk up. For a second you had forgotten he was there, you walk past him, Coconut your dog runs over to Mick who in turn gives her all the pets she wants as they retreat down to the bottom half of your home. You quickly rush over to where you were sleeping and grab the tumbler and drink the remaining liquor before rushing to wash it. Rio doesn't say anything but watches you. 

“Want something to drink?”  You turn to face him, doing your best to not look as drunk as you felt before he can answer you, grab a glass and make the infamous Bourbon on the rocks. “HEY MICK!” “YO!”  you hear him rush up the steps

“If you want food or drinks help yourself,” 

“Cool cool” he retreats back downstairs to watch the game. “Come on Coconut!” You smile

It was cute seeing him with Coconut, a Samoyed, who looked like a teddy bear had come to life with Mick of all people. 

“I was gonna say tequila”

Tequila is your favorite liquor 

You roll your eyes “Please you know you love bourbon it's your girlfriend's favorite drink”

Without speaking he stares at you making you nervous, thinking that he knew you were drunk. You quickly make conversation "to what do i owe this visit?”

“Came to check on you see how you doing, you haven't texted or called”

“You haven't done the same either” you counter

“I am a busy man”

“I have a target on my back”

He looks at you before speaking “We both do”

“Fair enough, we can both do better let's just leave it at that”

He nods in agreement “Just came to check on you”

You look at the clock on the oven “At 1:00AM”

“No better time than the present” he says flashing his infamous smile 

You nod, “I guess” your anxiety was starting to get the best of you again. You were able to pretend so long as he wasn’t around but now it was becoming more difficult by the second. 

“You aiight?” he says as he notices you taking lots of deep breaths “Yea i just need to lay down”

You walk towards the bedroom without even looking back at him, you assume that he planned to spend the night. You hear him walking behind you and you become more panicked. You rush into the bathroom before he reaches the bedroom. 

“Thought you said you were sleeping” he comments noticing your bed was made up 

“Yea on the couch!” you answer from the bathroom

He takes a seat on his side and starts to undress himself getting comfortable in nothing but boxer briefs

You sit on the toilet and do your best to calm down. You reach for the flask in the vanity drawer and  take a few gulps before you put it back in its hiding spot, a few more breathing techniques and you feel calm enough to walk out. He watches you as you walkover to your side of the king sized bed. He always hated it. It was entirely too big for two people let alone one person. 

You avoid all eye contact. If you thought you looked drunk he would definitely pick up on that. 

When you lay your head on the pillow the room feels like it's spinning before the feeling slowly subsides and you feel yourself falling asleep.

“Y/N”

“Hmm?” you hum

“I came to talk to you” normally you would be alert and waiting for him to talk but this time you’re avoiding any type of conversation 

You sigh “Your timing is impeccable!” 

He chuckles he missed you. He missed having to deal with a grumpy you, who didn’t get enough sleep, missed how you were so picky over ice cream, missed how you smelled, how your skin felt under his finger tips, missed your sarcastic mouth that always irritated him

You sit up and move closer to him grabbing a pillow to put on your knees so you could lay your head on it. “Okay i'm listening”

He says nothing but looks at you, 

“My name is Christopher”

For a second you want to thwack him with the pillow. Is this why he came over to tell you his name?! 

When you look up at him there’s a look of vulnerability behind his eyes. You get the sense that he was being truthful

“Okay what do you want me to call you then? Christopher or Rio?” He smiles lazily, he was expecting you to roll your eyes and fuss at him “whatever you want mama” he reaches over and rubs your leg

“I like Rio, maybe i’ll call you Christopher when i'm mad at you”

He chuckles “fair enough,” he clears his throat. “My name is Christopher, people know me as Rio. I am a divorcee to a lady named Rhea and we have a son together named Marcus.” 

You smile at him “nice to meet you Christopher”

“I’m single by the way so you know”

“Why are you doing all of this?”

“I don’t know how things like this go, I’ve never “dated” girls it was always we vibe together cool we together. I’m trying something different, you don't like it?”  You shrug “No its just odd......”

“I meant it when i said i cared about you, Beth and I are a thing of the past only business”

“What did you do break up with her yesterday?”

“More like a month ago” 

“How did she take it?”

“How most women do? Cry got mad at me typical shit”

You nodded “okayyy”

“Im serious Y/N I want to be with you,” 

You didn’t respond but laid down next to him, when you woke up in the morning he was gone. You sigh in relief. You didn’t want to discuss him wanting to be with you in greater detail. As far as you were concerned words meant nothing when it came to him. He always spoke with his actions. Nothing changed besides him revealing his name to you. He was back to being the mysterious person in your life. I guess since he told you the truth there was no need to pretend anymore. No late night calls asking how you were no more frequent pop ups. 

The next time he does show up, he’s nothing but irritated. Standing outside your door for almost 10 minutes knocking, just to break in. When he finally locates you on the couch there's a bottle of tequila beside you, cap half screwed on even Coconut’s excited yipping doesn’t wake you up. 

“Do me a favor find every liquor bottle you can in here and get rid of it” 

Mick nods in agreement before he returns to petting Coconut

You wake up the next morning in bed wondering how you got there the last thing you remember watching was Scandal before blacking out. You hear commotion near your kitchen area, you get scared but hear Rio’s deep voice and relax a bit. You get up and ready to go to work before walking out of the room. 

Without thinking about him you look in the cabinet that housed all the liquor

“It’s not there”

He scared you, you had forgotten he was there, you take a few deep breaths before turning around to face him 

“Where is it?”

“Don’t worry about it”

“Rio” 

“Why you drinkin’?” 

“Why not? As far as we are concerned there’s still drugs in my house right?”

He ran his hand down his chin “I told you I’m taking care of it”

“What does that even mean? You don’t text or call nothing just show up out of nowhere whenever you feel like it. What is the definition of taking care of it, if drugs are still being funneled into my house. You don’t  want me drink? When I can smell her perfume around the house after I come home from work? You don’t want me to drink? When I can see a trail of dirt going down or up the steps? At any given moment I could be ambushed by the feds or your enemies.... But you’re taking care of it?! Right? You tell me if you were me and someone kept telling you I’m taking care of it would you believe them?” He remained silent for what felt like an eternity “It's complicated”

“Then uncomplicate it!”

“So what you gon drink yourself to death?”

“YES!.....I mean NO!..... But you can’t possibly think that i am going to deal with all of this by myself without you there and a sober mind”

“Need to grow tough skin, if you wanna stick around” 

“I didn’t ask for this! All I wanted was a boyfriend not someone who is supposedly plotting my demise and telling me don’t worry about it” 

Offended he speaks before he can stop himself “And I ain’t ask to be with no drunk either”

You paused for a while and walked away. Rushing into your bathroom your hands shaking from being extremely pissed and needing that drink in the morning to take the edge off. You quickly locate the flasks in your room thankful he had yet to find those.Once the liquid poison settled in your stomach. You quickly gather the remaining flasks and stuff them in your purse before rushing out the door. You could feel his eyes on you as you left the house. 

When you return home your heart sinks to see his G Wagon sitting in the driveway. Carefully you put the flasks in your purse. You were hoping he didn't make someone follow you because your flasks were now full to the brim with alcohol. 

You open the door and Coconut runs towards you barking and hopping on you. “Hi girl, how are you? Were you good today?” You bend down and pet her, tears coming to your eyes as you realize just how much you had been neglecting her lately, “I promise i’ll make it up to you” you whisper as you continue to pet her. When you stand up you see Rio standing in your line of vision. You walk up the steps to see Mick sitting on the couch watching sports. You wave at him and take the corner towards your room. You had a short window to hide the flasks before Rio would come in. 

When you step into the kitchen you don’t see Mick on the couch instead its Rio sitting by the kitchen counter. You move slowly as you feel the alcohol racing through your veins. You pour water in your tumbler and pull out the bowl of fruit salad that you had made early in the week. 

“Not gon eat?”

It hadn’t even occurred to you that Rio actually cooked until you set eyes on the stove which had multiple pots with simmering food

“Not hungry”

“Late today” he comments 

“Yea” 

“Where were you?”  

You look at him wondering if he was just baiting you or he actually had no idea where you were

“Hello” he brings your attention back to him “Where did you go after work?” “I thought you knew” hinting to him possibly trailing you 

“What you talking bout?”

You knew this question was coming so you pulled out the pamphlet of AA which ironically was signed by the organizer. You place it in front of him. “We can’t have your reputation destroyed can we?” you spew out venom, almost like you were looking for another argument. Which you weren’t you just wanted him to hurt as much as you were. 

He  ran a hand down his face and looked up at you, however you weren't standing in the same spot you were walking back to the room. He wanted to apologize. He didn't mean what he said, well he did but he didn't mean for it to come out as harsh as it did. 

The next day was Saturday and he knew your routine to go to brunch with either your Aunt Brenda  and/or your best friend Mia. He was going to propose taking you out maybe to lighten the mood, get you out of the house so you don’t obsess over things that he was actively trying to fix. Soon after he sits down to drink his water he hears you up and an hour later the clicking of your heels on the wooden floor. 

“Going to brunch” is all you say before you begin to walk down the steps

“Think you can cancel?”

You stop and turn and look at him “Why?”

He shrugs “I wanted to take you out for brunch”

“Okay you can just join us” you offer

“Nah i just wanted it to be me and you” he is now standing in front of you and moves the hair out of your face

You nod in agreement and look down to begin texting.Aunt Brenda and  Mia could keep themselves busy anyway

“Ready?” He asked with a smile on his face  

“Yea!” you answer you walk past him and down the steps

The car ride is silent until you arrive downtown and park a street over. You let him lead the way which brings you to one of your favorite brunch spots a chic french restaurant. He remembered you talking about it and how much you wanted to come back but you and the girls were busy exploring other places. 

When you arrive you get seated, you look down at the menu before looking up at him. You kinda knew what you wanted, you had made your mind up the last time you were there what you would get next. When the waiter arrives he greets in french and you respond

“Bonjour comment-allez vous? (good morning, how are you?)” “Qu’est-ce que vous voulez boire? (what would you like to drink?)”

“De l'eau s'il vous plait (water please)” you turn to Rio. “Rio what would you like to drink?” He smirks before answering “Water”

The waiter then proceeds to tell you about the house specials for today before leaving to get your drinks

“I didn't know you spoke french”

“Yea, Krystal knew that, I guess your girlfriend forgot to mention that”

He had to admit he was lazy in his research about you, trusting Beth would tell him all about you. 

The waiter quickly returned with the water. You two were not ready so you ask for more time. 

He sighed before taking a sip of his water, You had reverted your attention back to the menu. He was really trying hard at this boyfriend thing. Majority of his ex girls were attached in some form or another to his business so it was easier to sit and talk about plans and things that needed to be fixed, than actually have a conversation. However Beth ‘Krystal’ was the last one, he was faced with the realization that someway or another that being part of the business never really made the relationship stronger in fact it made the bulk of it which he realized was not good for anyone involved.

“What are you gonna get?” he asked breaking the silence, he also hated how you could just be silent, he would rather you make small talk like Beth, whether it be joyous or filled with hate

“Im debating” 

“Between”

“Pancakes with omelette or the french toast” you looked up at him 

“Hmm” he held his infamous smile on his face the one that always made you weak to your knees

“You” 

“Eggs Benedict”

You smile at him “good” 

Before your food comes you two try at the small talk thing, out of nowhere you hear her voice

“Hi you two!”

You both look up at her it seemed like she came out of nowhere

You feel nauseous, the smell of her perfume now made you sick. “Hi how are you?”

“Having a little brunch?”

“Yea”

“Mind if i sit”

You look at Rio and before he can answer you say “Sure!” 

He gives you a look both you and Beth can read

“Here I’ll move over”  you offer as you move to the middle seat

The waiter rushes over and gets her order before any conversation takes place

“You didn't tell me our girl could speak french” “I didn’t? Must have skipped my mind”

“How are the kids Krys?” you ask

“They are good.” She says curtly before turning her attention to Rio “So uh the cookies you wanted me to bake are ready”

“I told you i didn't need them anymore” 

“But i took time off to do so can’t you just come by and pick them up?”

“I’ll send Mick” 

You sit back and observe her behavior. She had done herself up slightly more than usual, her cleavage was showing and she was accentuating it every chance she got. They continue to talk in code and it was  becoming irritating to you because you were sitting there eating your food while they could be discussing the situation in your home without you knowing. At this point you had to assume the worst. 

“Maybe you two need a bathroom break,” you interject both of their head whipped around to look at you, both looked bewildered

“Why would you say that?” Rio asked 

You shrug “it seems like there's a lot you two want to talk about clearly not in front of me” 

Rio smirked before answering

Quickly, Beth answered “Actually we could” “Nah we good, Krystal was just leaving.” He flashes her warning look before she quickly excuses herself. 

He can tell that your mood has turned sour and chucks the date as a fail. When you return to your home he speaks before you exit the car “I didn’t know” “I know Christopher,  gotta grow tough skin right?” He sighs before following you inside.

As always tell me what you think. 

[harringtown]

you drew stars around my scars

sorry for the wait anon!! hope you enjoy!! 

requested by anonymous

Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Summary: When the reader moves back to Hawkins after nine years, Steve tries to hide his changes and his past from them (aka steve is really dumb sometimes, childhood friends to lovers, and a happy ending cuz im a sap)

Word Count: 3.2k

Warnings: cursing, violence mention

-

The last time Steve Harrington saw you, he was twelve years old.

Your family piled the station wagon and a trailer full of your belongings, and on a cold and early morning, you left Hawkins, Indiana and headed north - headed away from Steve.

Almost nine years later, he still finds himself thinking of you at the oddest times: when he peels an orange and remembers the brush of your fingers as you handed over sweet, sticky slices, or when a tacky old song comes on the radio and your laughter at his gangly, flailing limbs as you both danced in his backyard rings in his ears, or when summer fireflies flicker to life, and he longs for the days of mason jars and mosquito bites and grass between his toes.

Even now, almost nine years later, he remembers the girl that introduced him to love before he even had a word for the feeling. He doesn’t expect to see you again, ever, but he can’t keep himself from remembering.

And then, like a miracle, you come back to Hawkins; you come home.

-

Shifts at Scoops Ahoy are monotonous. Steve stands behind the counter and scoops ice cream into cones and counts change and wipes the counters, and sometimes, Robin cracks a joke that breaks the agonizing boredom, and sometimes, Dustin or one of the kids stops by - he pretends to be annoyed, but secretly, he loves the company - but other than that, life is simple and boring. So, so boring.

He's sitting on the counter behind the partition, using his ten-minute break to wolf down half a sandwich and a cup of ice cream he may not have paid for from up front, when Robin tugs open the divider and pops her head through, cocking a brow at him.

“I’ve got four minutes left,” he says, jerking a chin at the clock hanging on the wall. Robin rolls her eyes.

“No shit, Sherlock,” she says. “Customer’s asking for you.”

“For me?” Steve asks, lips turning down in a frown. “Who is it?”

“Oh, am I supposed to keep track of your friends now? Want me to memorize your grocery list while I’m at it?”

Steve's expression twists, and he slides off the counter, quipping, "You still owe me that four minutes of my break," as he heads around to the door and pulls it open. Robin meets him at the door with folded arms and a smirk.

“Don’t worry,” she says. “You’ll get the rest of your precious break. Don’t keep your girl waiting?”

“Girl?” Steve asks.

“Close your mouth. You’ll catch flies,” Robin says. Steve flips her the bird and prays his expression doesn’t reveal how nervous he’s become. A girl, here to see him. What girl could be here to see him?

Robin's exit from the counter clears his view, and the surprise of your presence, coupled with nine years of growth, gives him pause. He stands like a deer in headlights, one hand on the handle of the scooper in his pocket, his brows furrowed.

“Steve?” You ask, one side of your mouth lifting. “It’s y/n.”

Steve swallows the stone in his throat and nods, exhaling sharply and stepping forward, moving to the counter and leaning into it. His heart pounds like a kick drum in his chest, so hard he thinks he might crack a rib, but he forces an easy expression and smiles.

“You think I’d forget the first person that punched me in the face?” He asks.

“That was an accident,” you say. You cock a brow. “First? You make a habit out of getting punched in the face?”

"It's been nine years. You missed a lot," Steve says, maintaining the calm facade, hoping the words' double meaning doesn't weigh down the tone. The Steve Harrington you knew was different than this one - he was unbroken.

You smile, reaching out to flick a strand of hair off his forehead.

“Not that much,” you say. “You’ve still got that wild hair.”

“And you still can’t keep from fucking it up.”

“Fixing it.”

“Whatever you say.”

“Damn straight.”

Steve stifles a laugh and leans further into the counter, asking, “What the hell are you doing here?”

“The parents moved us back. They missed home.”

“Home missed you,” Steve says. You cock a brow, a smile pulling on your lips, and Steve’s stomach flip flops.

“Home?” You ask. “Or you?”

“Both?”

You smile and say, “Well, there’s nothing to miss anymore. I’m here to stay.”

-

What was going to be a boring, slow summer now has a silver lining, and you're at the center of it. When Steve isn't working, he's with you, showing you the newer parts of town or reminiscing in old ones.

He feels more like himself than he has in a long time. The Steve from before - the one that didn’t wield a bat like a third arm or see monsters behind every set of eyes - is so close he can almost reach him, and though he knows that Steve had his fair share of problems, he can’t help but miss the simplicity of his ignorance.

Being good, being better, moving forward, it is all an uphill climb. Most days, he feels like Sisyphus and his stone, spending every waking most shoving the boulder up the mountain only to watch it fall back down when the sun goes down.

He wants to be a better person, an unbroken person, but he can’t quite shake the scars or the imprints of ferocity from days past.

The Steve you knew was brave and confident and cocky and whole, and as hard as he tries, there are too many cracks in the glass for it not to give beneath the weight of who he has become.

-

Two weeks after you move back to town, you linger after the mall closes as Steve locks up the shop, a plan to get milkshakes and enough French fries to feed an army already laid out.

The night is quiet and warm when the two of you exit the mall, pushing through the back lot and out into the empty and vast front parking lot toward Steve’s car. It was busy when he arrived, and he ended up parking near the back, close to the sidewalk and the street, and in the dark - and the pull of your presence - he doesn’t notice the man walking his dog until the large, black creature lets out a growl at a rabbit in the grass ahead of it.

The hairs rise on the back of his neck, and he freezes, head snapping toward the sound, images of black blood and dripping teeth flickering behind his eyes. He can hear the snapping of teeth and the thundering roars of the Demogorgon, even after all this time; he still expects to find them everywhere.

“Steve?” You ask from behind.

The man pulls the dog away, and the bunny dips into the bushes, but Steve can’t stop the racing of his heart or the panic slicked along his skin.

He forces himself to turn and face you, swallowing the stone in his throat.

You stand with your arms folded and your brows furrowed, confusion and concern weaved into your features.

“Are you okay?” You ask. “What happened?”

"Nothing," he says, a lopsided plastic smile pulling on his lips. "That dog scared the hell out of me."

“You scared of puppies, Harrington?” You say, though the concern hasn’t quite lifted from your eyes.

Steve rolls his eyes and waves a hand dismissively, tugging his keys out of his pocket and moving to the car, grateful you take the hint and head to the passenger side and miss the way his hands shake as he struggles to force the key into the slot.

He pulls open the door and drops into the seat, exhaling sharply and shoving the last embers of fear from his lungs.

The monsters may be gone, but there are too many traces of them in Hawkins to shake; they are clothes on a line, forever caught in the wind.

“You good?” You ask, lips pursed as you climb into the car, and for a moment, just a moment, Steve considers telling the truth.

He doesn’t. He simply nods, starts the car, and drives out of the lot.

-

Steve is back in the Byers' house, with Billy Hargrove's hand wrapped around his throat, the children screaming a cacophony of chaos in his ringing ears. It is a dream that pulls from memory and weaves into a nightmare.

Billy Hargrove releases him, shoving Steve back onto the hardwood, and when he stands up, a shadow steps out of the darkness beside him, its massive form hovering behind Billy.

The Demogorgon spreads its maws and lets out a thundering growl that pierces Steve to his core. He is frozen in place, a statute on the verge of being shattered, Humpty Dumpty off the wall with no horses or men to put him back up again.

The monster lunges, and just as its teeth close around Steve's neck, he jerks awake. The Byers' living room is replaced with the Quarry, the rocky sand beach, and the water's soft noise on the shore, the metal of the hood of Steve's car cold beneath his back.

A hand settles on his arm, and he practically throws himself off the car and into the sand, heaving for breath, adrenaline surging through his veins.

“Steve?” You ask, eyes wide and lips parted.

Steve shoves the last of the dream from his mind, the present clearing like a fogged mirror, and he takes deep breath after deep breath, trying to regain some composure before he meets your gaze.

You climb off the hood, where the two of you were lounging in the sun, and come to stand across from him, concern knitted in your expression.

“Sorry,” he says, letting one side of his mouth quirk up into a fake smirk. “Bad dream.”

You frown, not fully convinced by his performance, and step back, leaning into the hood and folding your arms.

"Want to talk about it?" You ask. For a moment, just a moment, Steve considers saying yes. He considers opening his mouth and letting the truth spill out, but he remembers the y/n and Steve of the past, his bravery and durability.

The Steve Harrington of your childhood wasn’t a broken husk; he was better, he was more.

“Rabid beavers,” he says, waggling his brows. “Scary motherfuckers.”

You hesitate a moment before asking, “Rabid beavers?”

“Yeah. Trying to gnaw off my toes.”

Your hesitation gives to an exasperated breath and an easy smile - a successful evasion - and you roll your eyes, pulling yourself up onto the hood and letting your feet bob rhythmically against it.

“Rabid beavers, huh?” You ask. “Terrifying. How are you not curled up, rocking in the corner?”

Steve snorts, and doesn’t share that he has, in fact, spent many-a-nights rocking in metaphorical corners, struggling to peel his nightmares off his skin and begging to anything that might listen for the relief of sleep.

-

After four weeks, Steve finally works up the courage to ask you on an official date. You’ve been halfway there for the last month, moving closer and closer to something unnameable. It’s all accidental touches and lingering glances and laughter that goes on a little too long, and Steve doesn’t think he’s been this happy since you left nine years ago.

The date is simple, a movie and dinner at the mall, and though its a little awkward at first, solely due to the labeling of the event as a Date with a capital D, the familiarity softens the edges of the tension, and by the time the movie is over and you’ve snacked yourselves sick in the food court, all tension has dissipated.

Steve holds your hand as you exit the mall, heading through the crowded lot toward his car, and you swing your twined hands with exaggeration. You’re talking about a silly dog you watched for a neighbor a few times, and though Steve is listening, he’s also a little drunk on your presence, his laughter too quick and too long.

When you reach Steve’s car, you don’t head for the passenger side, rather moving to lean against the backdoor, not releasing Steve’s hand and tugging him toward you. His stomach flips as he steps toward you, hands finding your waist, your hips canted toward him.

Your lips quirk up in a smile that plucks the breath out of Steve’s lungs.

“Milkshake?” You ask, holding up your cup between you, two straws sticking out of the lid.

Steve struggles to stay composed, his heart slamming against his ribs and his cheeks hot, and leans forward, catching one of the straws in his mouth. You move at the same time, taking the other, your noses less than an inch apart.

You lift your gaze to Steve’s, and the corners of your mouth turn up, and Steve knows if he just moved an inch, let the milkshake fall, he’d be kissing you.

Unfortunately, he doesn’t get the chance.

“Well, well, well! If it isn’t y/n y/l/n. Wish I was surprised to find you with your tongue down some guy’s throat.” The voice arcs across the lot, and Steve turns to find a handful of kids from school approaching, led by Tommy.

You shift to stand beside Steve, half behind him, and your fingers close around his arm. He doesn't have to look at you to know you've gone taut and tight, tension thick in the air around you. He doesn't have to have known you these past nine years to understand that the fear that has just sprung to the surface isn't centered around Tommy H himself, but the presence of the men and their raucous vigor.

“Harrington? How’d you trick her into this?” He asks. Tommy looks to you, and Steve shifts further in front of you, his jaw tight. “Haven’t heard about Steve, yet, have you? I’ve got quite a few stories to tell, if you’d rather hop onto my lap.”

“Tommy, that’s enough,” Steve snaps.

“Oh, he speaks!” Tommy croons, his cronies laughing behind him, feeding off each other’s energies. His attention moves to you again, and your grip tightens on Steve’s arm.

“Trust me, man, you really don’t want to do this,” he says.

“What you gonna do? Get the shit beat out of you again? Run away? Like you always do?”

Steve bristles, ignoring Tommy and moving to the car's trunk, gently pulling you with him. You follow, a frown tugging down on your lips, but linger close to him as he pops the trunk. He shoots you a glance, his lips pursed, before he pulls the nail-studded bat out of his trunk and twirls it in one hand.

He has no choice but to lay his cards on the table, because only then will he shake Tommy and his friends. Unfortunately, though, laying his cards means revealing them to you. And that revelation comes with risks.

“Time to go,” he says to Tommy, narrowing his eyes, shedding the King Steve facade in favor of the soldier he was forced to become, his tone cold and hard.

The boys stare at the bat, and though one opens his mouth - likely to crack a joke - Tommy's head snaps toward him, and he gives it a little shake.

“He’s not worth it,” Tommy sneers. “He’s fuckin’ crazy.”

“I said, go,” Steve says, lifting the bat and letting it rest on his shoulder, his eyes narrowed and his jaw set.

“This isn’t over, Harrington.”

“Looks pretty over to me,” Steve says, cocking a brow.

Tommy hesitates another moment, flicking glances between the two of you - Steve with his bat, you behind him - before he gestures for his cronies and they turn, headed up the lot and likely in search of someone else to torture.

The moment they're out of sight, Steve exhales and lets the bat fall, tucking it back into the car's trunk. He turns to face you, and your expression is torn between fear and confusion.

"Are you okay?" He asks. Your lips purse, and you shake your head.

“I-it’s…” Your gaze shifts to the trunk. “What the hell is that thing, Steve? Why is it in your car?”

For a moment, just a moment, Steve considers telling the truth. And then, because he's already played all his cards, he opens his mouth and speaks. He tells the truth, the whole complicated, horrifying, scary truth, and you tell your truth, too.

-

Steve assumed that he was the only one walking around with baggage, that his intrusion into your life would only ruin it, that he was broken and bruised and too heavy not to weigh you down with his darkness. As it turns out, you’ve faced your own monsters in your day. Nine years is a long time, and just as Steve has fought battles in that time, you have, too. Your monsters were different, had more human faces, but they were monsters all the same.

“So, you just carry that thing around? Just in case?” You ask, sitting next to Steve in the front seat of his car, your leg pressed against his.

“Just in case,” he says.

You make a humming sound, neither approving nor disproving, and after a moment, thread your fingers through Steve’s.

“Thank you,” you say. “For earlier.”

“Don’t thank me. Tommy and his friends are assholes. They could use a little kick to the ego.”

“Considering what it did for you, I’d agree.”

Steve snorts, laughing and tipping his head back against the headrest, letting his eyes fall shut for a moment before lowering his chin and meeting your eyes.

“You don’t think I’m a loser, then?”

"Oh, absolutely," you say, lips curling up. "But, I always have."

“I see how it is.”

Your grin widens, and you reach up, letting a hand settle on his cheek, touch soft. He leans into your fingers, and your smile is replaced by a soft, affectionate one that makes Steve's stomach wrench.

“I’m really, really glad you’re back,” Steve murmurs.

You lean toward him, and Steve’s heart skips a beat, and he brings a hand up to settle atop yours on his cheek, fingers curling around yours.

“I’m really glad I’m back, too,” you whisper. Your nose brushes Steve’s, and your breath hitches, and Steve can’t hold still any longer, lifting his chin to catch your mouth in his, a careful, gentle kiss. His hands move to find you, fingers sliding softly along your jaw, and his heart beats steadily. When you shift toward him, he can feel your heartbeat against his, beating in tune.

It is not impatient or greedy or quick or intense, not like either of you would have expected after so many years of waiting, but it is perfect simply because it's yours, because it’s the two of you.

There will be time for a million other kisses of a million different varieties. And though the world is still overrun with monsters and men, in this car, only you and Steve exist; only you and Steve matter.

There are no lies or facades anymore. There is just you and Steve, the way he thinks it was always supposed to be.

-

Taglist: @allfandomxreader @kalie-bee @kurtsbuckethat @iiqtpiee @drcwse @whitecard62 @captainelsaeverdeen @hairrington @lemonypink @ludicstilinski @harrington-ofhawkins @dezzylou24 @mightstudysoon @ultrunning @xthe-dreamerx @bralessandflawless @pvnsie @anerroroccurrrrred @bookfrog242 @yayrainyday @snarky–starky @mybestfriendthedingus @mochminnie @redbullchick @izzylizzybizzy @sassisaluxury @80strashbag @m-blasterrr @estrela-rogers @comedy-witch @sammyyyygp @chaoswrites @nxncywheeler @perksofbeingawf @anxiouskore @bombardia @willowrose99 @honeybloomtea @mustbluvs @ilovebucketbarnes @kylosleftbuttcheek @steve–harrington–gal @ssanjuniperoo @the-passionate-freak @vintagespidey @bisexualpears @hellbandit3 @katiem227 @heart-eye-harrington @unrvquited @scoopsahcy @abbyg217 @ashtounding​ @blahhhhhhhaaa​ @cececroft​ @train-wrecc​

[junkercrush]

Yo! Can I request junkrat being oblivious to his feelings with an equally oblivious crush?

Yes, you may! Here you go!

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“Oblivious” 

Junkrat x Reader (I’m guessing female?)

Rating: SFW

Words: 3,303

You’re finally caught up with work, and Junkrat was coming over. Nothing special, just a hangout.

“Aw, crap.” You groaned as the scent of burnt popcorn hit your nose. You ran to the kitchen and popped open the microwave. Thank goodness the popcorn bag wasn’t on fire (this time). You threw the darker pieces in the trash and poured the rest into a huge party bowl.

You skipped excitedly to the living room where you were preparing for Junkrat’s arrival. Tonight, you and Rat were going to watch horror films until the crack of dawn. You turned on the TV and reviewed your horror playlist. It was filled with frightening titles featuring vampires, ghouls, and zomnics. Junkrat might love the zomnic one, even though he can’t stand Omnics in real life.

You peered at the clock hanging on the wall over your TV—6:23 pm. You moaned with impatience. “Where the hell is he?” You asked aloud.

The pizza guy with the four extra-large pizzas you ordered was supposed to arrive 45 minutes ago. You could nibble on some popcorn as you waited, but you wanted to save it for your horrorfest. Your stomach growled. Perhaps one small bite---

Ding dong!

Was that the pizza guy or Rat? You set the popcorn aside and rushed to the door. Wait, the pizza money! You checked your pockets and pulled out two $20 bills. The pizza guy could keep the change.

You opened the door, and a blue light zipped past you. “Hello, hello!” Tracer chirped.

“Tracer,” You sighed. “The hell are you doing here? I thought you were out on a mission.”

Tracer was already munching on your popcorn in the living room. “Nope, false alarm. What are you doing?”

Tracer turns to the TV you left on with your horror movies. “Oooh, movie night! I’m game!”

“Uh no, actually—”

“Am I  interrupting something?”

“Not really—”

“ ‘Not really?’ Sounds suspicious to me.” Tracer’s eyes lit up. “Are you waiting on your date?”

“No! It’s just Rat and me. We’re having a movie night.”

Tracer stares at you with a sly grin. You only roll your eyes at her. “God, Lena, it’s not like that!”

“Are you sure? You two have been ‘hanging out’ for a while.”

Tracer zips around your living room, checking under your furniture and peeking behind your hanging picture frames.

“What are you doing?” You asked.

“Searching for surprises. I know you’re hiding condoms and your kinky toys around here somewhere.”

You playfully whacked Tracer with a couch pillow. “Get out.” You ordered.

“Aw, c’mon!” Tracer groaned. “Let me hang out with you guys on your date. I  don’t mind. I want to see ‘Attack of the Living Zomnics’ too.”

“For heaven’s sake, it’s not a damn date!” You laughed. “Rat is not into me like that. Just friends. It’s been like that for years.”

Tracer crossed her arms. “Remember when you caught him ogling at you at Lucio’s pool party?”

You traced your memories back to last week. You hated parties, especially the kind where you got wet. But it was Lucio’s party, and you liked his music.

You came out in a shockingly fitting bathing suit Tracer bought for you just for the occasion. You didn’t care about the guys looking at you. You were shocked to see Junkrat there. He was in the swimming pool sitting on top of a huge inflatable duck. His mouth was slightly open, eyes straight at you.

You remembered asking him to go to the party with you, but he made an excuse that he was sick. There he was, staring at you like you were God just descended down from heaven. 

You two got together later and ended up playing pool volleyball with some random partygoers. Junkrat was very touchy that night. You were used to it, he was that way with everyone. But that time was different, way different. 

The image of Rat’s lean, wet body lasted in your mind for a week. You weren’t going to tell anybody about that, especially Tracer.

“Yeah,” You said, coming back to the present. “No big deal.”

Tracer slumped her head down and let out a heavy sigh. “C’mon, you can’t tell me the signs between you two aren’t right there!”

“Looks like somebody’s has been watching too many chick flicks.”

The doorbell rang again. Before Tracer could say anything else, you paced to the door and peered through your door’s peephole. Finally, the pizza man.

“Sorry, miss,” The skinny, freckled face delivery boy apologized as you opened the door. “There was a bunch of traffic—”

You shoved the money to his face and took the pizza boxes from him. “Glad you made it. Thank you so much! Keep the change.” You blurted and waved at him. The boy counted the money.

“Sweet, thanks!” He scurried to his run-down rusty car and sped off.

“Mmmm, I smell pepperoni.” You heard Tracer from the house.

You closed the door and placed the pizza boxes in the kitchen. The cheesy aroma goodness traveled up your nose and made your stomach rumble with anticipation. Man, Junkrat better hurry up before you ate all this pizza yourself! 

Tracer arrives and opens a box. “Mmm,” She hums. “Extra large too.”

You glared at her. “Don’t you take a single bite.” You warned her.

Tracer only smiled. “Oh, you’re right. We have to wait before the love of your life arrives.”

You reached for her, and she teleported to the kitchen entrance with a giggle. “I’ll leave your little get together when you guys start snogging.” She said, taking a bite of a gooey cheese pizza slice.

“Hey!” You shouted. The doorbell rings again. You froze. Tracer’s smile grew wider.

“I’ll get it!” Tracer zipped to the front door.

“No!” You shouted.

Junkrat was let in before you could protest further. He was oddly clean today, except his hair was covered in ash. He wore a fresh tank top and some (unripped) cargo shorts. He definitely smelt like he was forced into a flowery-scented bath. The rose and lavender scents slowly filled the room.

“H-hey!” Your voice quivered.

“Hey, I heard some yelling while I was outside,” Junkrat said. “Everything alright?”

You glared at Tracer again. She only shrugged her shoulders like she didn’t know anything.

“Everything’s fine.” You sighed. “Just fooling around.”

“Hey!” Someone barked outside your door. Roadhog entered. He looked like he just rode out of hell. He was smoking, covered in soot, and his mask all beat up. You rushed over to him.

“Jesus, what happened to you?” You asked Hog. The Junkers exchanged glances and laughed.

“We just robbed a bank,” Junkrat answered.

“And I wanted to keep him clean.” Hog added. “Knew he was going to see you tonight.”

Tracer grinned. “I knew this was a date.”

“The hell are you talking about?” Junkrat asked her.

“Admit it, Rat!”

Junkrat shot you a confused glance. You only shook your head. “I don’t know what’s going on.” You sighed. “She’s gone nuts.”   Roadhog patted Junkrat’s shoulder. “I’m off. The police may find us here. I’ll distract them.”

Junkrat shot him a thumbs up. “Good call, mate.”   “I’m going to get some ice cream too.” Hog continued.

Tracer appeared in front of Hog in a hot second. “Can I come?” She asked him.   Police sirens blared in the distance. Hog threw Tracer over his shoulder and marched out of your house. “Sure, let’s go!” He huffed.   Perfect, she was finally gone. “Bye!” You waved with a great smile. You and Junkrat watched as Roadhog strapped Tracer into the passenger wagon of his motorcycle and zoomed off.   “Finally.” You sighed, walking back to the living room. “I got pizza and popcorn ready for us. Which movie do you want to see---” You turned to Junkrat and froze. He held out a bouquet of daisies for you. Looking at the roots, it seems he pulled them out of the ground somewhere.    “What’s this?” You asked.   “A gift for you,” Junkrat answered. “Found them in some bloke’s yard.”   Tracer’s stupid smirk popped in your mind. If she was still here, she would’ve flipped. You cleared your throat. “That’s nice of you. Thanks!”   You took the daisies into the kitchen and placed them in a vase filled with water. Junkrat followed you. From the corner of your eye, you noticed his eyes kept shifting at you then down at the floor like he was afraid to ask you something.    “Do you want to see Blood Sucker Junkers first or Junkenstein’s Revenge 2?” You asked. Junkrat scratched his head.   “Actually, I changed my mind about our movie night.” He said.    “Oh?”   “I want to take you to the beach. Heard it was going to be really nice this evening.”   You shrugged your shoulders. “I don’t see why not.” You said.   Junkrat grinned. “We’ll take the food with us. Feed the popcorn to the seagulls.”   You laughed. “Don’t blow them up!”   Junkrat raised his hands in mock guiltiness. “Oi, have you ever tried fried seagull? Delicious!”   “No thanks. I prefer chicken.”   “You don’t know what you’re missing, mate. You need to live a little more.”   *~*~*

Rent on your place can be a bitch on your wallet, but having only to walk a few minutes to the beach was worth the money.   You and Junkrat arrived at the beach at sunset. People were already lingering away from the calm, blue waters to the parking lot. One frustrated mother was dragging her screaming child, who clearly didn’t want to leave. The little boy yanked his arm away from his mother’s grip and fell out on the ground, kicking sand up in the air.   “Nooo!” The boy shrieked. “I have to finish my sandcastle!” He pointed to the sandcastle decorated with seashells, sticks, and seaweed. The boy’s mother only huffed and placed her tightened fists on her hips.   “We have to go, Cayden, or no ice cream!” The mother warned. The boy’s tantrum stopped immediately.   “Ice cream?” Cayden asked.   “Yes.”   The boy ran past his mother to the parking lot for his parent’s car. The mother chased after him. You watched the sandcastle as a colossal wave smashed it into nothingness. Good thing little Cayden didn’t see that.   “Man, that boy can scream!” Junkrat chuckled behind you. He was lying on his stomach on a beach towel eating out of his second pizza box.   “Hey!” You closed the box. “Save some for me!”   “But I didn’t get to eat all day.” Junkrat moaned, looking up at you with pitiful eyes. “I’m starving!”   Junkrat opened the pizza box and nibbled on a large pepperoni slice. “Hmm, crunchy.”   You eyed him questionably. “Crunchy?”   Junkrat giggles. “I think I got some sand topping on my pizza.”   You laughed. “That’s what you get!”   A beach couple walked past you two, holding hands. They looked like they literally lived in the gym and the tanning salon. They parked their beach towel not too far from where you were sitting and started watching the sunset together. The beach body boyfriend had his hand right on his girlfriend’s ass, playing with her g-string thong. You rolled your eyes and returned to chewing your pizza slice.   “Oi,” Junkrat called out to the couple. “Get a room!”   You didn’t know why the couple bothered Junkrat so, but it was funny until he pulled out a small cherry bomb from his pocket.   “Junkrat, no!” You hissed, taking the bomb from his hand before he lit the fuse.   “What?” Junkrat looked completely innocent. “I was just going to scare them. Not blow them up!”   “Let them be.” You muttered. You turned back to the couple, and they were already making out. For real?   Luckily, a huge wave came ashore and hit the couple. The girlfriend screamed.   “My hair!” The bikini goddess yelped. You could only snicker. Why the hell was she there if she didn’t want her long, blonde luscious locks wet?   The couple glanced your way then moved further out from the rushing waters. Junkrat sighed with relief.   “Thank God,” Junkrat said. “They were ruining our spot.”   You turned to him. “Ours?”   Junkrat gently grabbed your face with his prosthetic hand and turned you toward the glowing sunset. It was a splash of red, yellow, and orange in front of the purple clouds. It was perfect, just perfect.   Seagulls circled the skies, searching for fish to pick up for the late evening dinner. A line of dolphin fins peeked out of the water. You gasped at the sight and pointed at the sea. “Junkrat, did you see that?”   “I did!”   You jumped as you realized Junkrat was sitting right beside you, still chewing on pizza.   “I don’t understand why Tracer thinks we’re dating.” He continued.   You shook your head. “I don’t know, man.”   Junkrat turned to you, a cheese string hanging from his mouth. “Is this dating? I just gave you flowers because I know you like them.”   You threw your arm around Junkrat’s shoulder. The first stars appeared as the sun slowly descended into the ocean.   “This is the best place to look at the stars.” He said.   You smiled. “You’ve been here before?” You asked. Junkrat only grinned.   A man’s loud cough made you jump. You turned to a couple sitting on the bench watching the sea. A huge man and a tiny man garbed in fishermen’s gear with sunglasses. Looks like they were taking a break from their fishing. You felt weird vibes from their presence.   “I like you,” Junkrat said. “I mean it.”   You stared at him. “I like you too. You’re a good friend.”   Junkrat shook his head. “No, no, no. I meant—”   “Daddy, look!” A little girl shouted behind you. A little girl and her family stepped off the boardwalk into the beach. More and more people steadily approached around you and Rat, pointing at the skies and planting their beach chairs on the cool sand.   “Daddy, look, look, look, LOOK!” The same little girl shouted.   “I see, I see, sweetie!” The exhausted father replied.   The sky was nearly covered with shooting stars. Your mouth dropped with amazement. “Oh my God,” You gasped. “I almost forgot about this.”   You remembered last week you were watching the news with Junkrat when an anchorwoman announced a meteor shower was coming up. The beach was the best place to see anything up in the skies, whether it be the stars, an aerial hostile Omnic invasion, or UFOS.   “I remembered,” Junkrat said, tapping your nose.   You smiled, blood rushing to your cheeks. You shyly turned away from Rat. Geez, why were you acting like a timid schoolgirl with a crush on him now?    “Remember the time we went out to King’s Row?” Junkrat asked.   “Yeah.” You recalled. You remembered it like it was yesterday.   After bringing in a British TALON spy into custody, you, Junkrat, Tracer, and Roadhog all went out for drinks as a celebration. Roadhog and Tracer returned to their hotel rooms early. At the same time, you and Rat explored London seeing Big Ben, visiting Piccadilly Circus, and almost getting regrettable matching tattoos.   “Remember Junkertown?” Junkrat continued.   “Yep.”   “South Korea? Brazil? Paris?”   “Yep, yep, and yep.”   “Were we dating back then?”   You and Rat would often take on week-long trips together. Just the two of you. Whoever asked where you all were going, you quickly responded it was a mission. Really, you just liked being around each other. You didn’t know why, but you just did.   “Maybe we are dating.” You admitted. Your heart rate increased after your confession. You opened your mouth to say something else, but a sudden pang of fear stopped you.   Junkrat only stared at you, a genuine smile slowly forming on his face. He leaned closer to your face, and you immediately backed away.   “You want to get some snow cones?” You asked, breaking the moment. “I know a place nearby. It’s not too far from here.”   Junkrat turned to the empty pizza boxes and patted his stomach. “A dessert sounds nice.” He said.   You two gathered up your beach towels and trash and walked away from the beach, leaving the crowd still watching the meteor shower. You glanced over at the bench where the mysterious fishermen were sitting. They were gone. You had a strange feeling you knew them from somewhere.   *~*~*

An hour later, you and Junkrat finally received your snow cones after a terribly long line at the snow cone hut. Only two people were working at the stand.   “Finally!” Junkrat sighed as he stabbed his blueberry snow cone with a spoon. “That took longer than I expected.”   “Yeah, seriously.” You replied.   With no warning, Junkrat stole a scoop of your cherry snow cone. “Mine!” He shouted.   “Hey!”   You reached for his cone with your spoon, but he moved it out of the way. “Ha! Missed!” Junkrat shouted. He leaned forward and surprised you with a kiss. Both of you stared at each other in shock afterward. “Uh, whoops, sorry about that, mate.” He giggled nervously.   You licked your lips, tasting the artificial cherry/blueberry flavor. “It’s all right,” You said as you set your cup down and grabbed the back of Junkrat’s head. “Fuck it!”   You crushed his lips with a long, savory kiss.   “Daddy, look. The pretty one is kissing that strange, ugly man!” The little girl from the beach pointed at you. You jerked away from Junkrat and laughed.   The beach father rushed over and scooped the child up to his arms. “Shh, that’s not nice!” He said. “We don’t talk about people that way.”   The little girl looked back at you as she was taken away. “But Daddy, he’s weird! Look at his funny hair!”   “Be quiet, and you eat your snow cone!” The father hissed.   Junkrat ran his fingers through his half-burnt hair. “Me hair’s funny?” He turned to you. “It’s not that bad, is it?”   You pecked him on the cheek. “You’re absolutely fine.” You said. Junkrat pulled you closer to him and buried his face into your neck.   “Mmm, I love you (Y/N).” He said.   You blushed. “Yeah, me too.”   “AH HA!”   The fishermen from the beach burst out of the bushes, scaring a couple of beachgoers.   “What the fuck!?” One tan man holding two snow cones yelped. One cone accidentally fell to the ground. “Fuck!” The man groaned.   “Oh, sod off.” The tiny fisherman said to the man.   “Um, do I know you?” You asked the fishermen. They removed their sunglasses, and you instantly recognized them.   “Tracer? Roadhog?! So you’ve been spying on us this whole time?” You frowned.   Roadhog pointed at Tracer. “It was her idea. I just wanted some ice cream.”   Tracer clicked her teeth. “Ah, ah, ah! You brought up the idea as we were eating ice cream.”   “Did not!” Hog barked back.   “Enough!” You shouted. Junkrat only laughed.   “Sorry we spied on you.” Roadhog apologized, twiddling his fingers with his massive feet turned inwards. You scoffed.   “Hog, it’s okay.” You assured the Maori giant. “I’m just startled.”   “I’m not surprised,” Junkrat said. “I knew you two were watching us back at the beach.”   You stared at Junkrat. “You knew?! And you didn’t tell me!?”   “Love, if I did, I wouldn’t have had the chance to kiss ya!” Junkrat wiggled his eyebrows.   “Oh my God.” You rolled your eyes.   Tracer pulled out her smartphone. “Smile for the birdy, would you? I want to capture the moment King Junkrat and Queen (Y/N) have finally reunited.”   You smiled and threw your snow cone at her.   “Hey!” Tracer cried.   The picture caught your snow cone flying towards her direction. Your face in the frame half-covered by the flying dessert while Junkrat had his lips planted on your cheek. A blurry Roadhog hand hovered over you two.

THE END

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