#sliding turnstile

[tripodturnstile]

three arms turnstiles gate from RS Security Co., Ltd(www.szrssecurity.com) Suitable for all types of public places that require organized passage of pedestrians, such as beautiful spots, exhibit halls, cinemas, docks, train stations, bus stations and other places that need ticket confirmation; places that require authorized entry such as factory participation, canteen intake, golf courses, monthly card leisure centers, and so on; anti-static control locations of electronic factories, systems that need rigorous security measures such as face recognition and fingerprint recognition. RS Security Co., Ltd mainly produces, establishes and offers access control items, such as three rollers turnstile barrier, train flap gates barrier, servo motor swing gates barrier, translation turnstile door, drop arm turnstile gate, full body turnstile barrier, half height turnstile door, fastlane turnstiles door and other channel turnstile door items, and barrier gate, facialface acknowledgment video camera, rising bollards, roadway blockers three rollers gates door Integrated electronic tickets, gain access to control and participation, club consumption/catering, anti-static, finger print, palm print, face acknowledgment, iris recognition Integrated application of other series of products; complete stainless-steel frame structure, Taibang motor, independently established and produced movement; one-way/two-way turnstile barrier/ swipe to release the lever button and the upper lever is optional, with Counting function can recognize RS485 direct communication with the computer; three arms turnstiles gate prompts and direction and alarm prompts; automated fall of the pole when power is off and manual fall The pole is optional, and it receives the switch signal to open gates barrier; it can be geared up with a card reading control part, and several systems can be connected to the network; it can be equipped with magnetic card and proximity card mix approaches; it can be ordered according to different practical requirements. Do. A fully rainproof box made from alloy aluminum or stainless steel, compared to the train flap turnstiles gate servo motor swing turnstile gate and other pedestrian passage equipment, three rollers turnstile gate are more affordable. It has a tailored installation interface (such as card reader, indicator light setup, etc) to guarantee that the system integrator's control turnstile door equipment is easy and hassle-free to install. The movement of the three-stick gates door device has actually an immediately changed hydraulic shock absorber. When utilizing the three-stick turnstile barrier operation, the sound is extremely little and quiet. Effect, turnstile gate bar immediately slows down back to center. The surface area of the motion is plated with yellow dichromate. Can be programmed with turnstile gate maker control, a couple of instructions control (set by user). The base is repaired with growth bolts.

[szrssecurityswingturnstile]

dc brushless glass turnstiles door also called gain access to wing turnstiles door, which comes from the access control system, is one of the crucial components of modern-day entrance and exit control. The door wings are driven by the control system and open and close immediately. The operating mode can be chosen through shows settings: As soon as it is confirmed that the individual going into is licensed, the door wings open automatically. It closes after a delay, and the hold-up time is adjustable. Typical dc brushless speedlane turnstiles doors are divided into scissor doors (train flap barrier gate) and swing doors. (1) Scissor doors are often utilized in rail transit, and common scissor doors are mostly utilized in subways and other locations. The door wings extend from the within package, which can efficiently seal the passage and play the function of access control. In addition, an infrared picking up gadget is installed inside the door body, which can realize the function of "a single person, one card" for people to pass through. (2) The swing door appeared later than the scissor door and comes from the 2nd generation dc brushless speed turnstiles gates. Such servo motor slim The quality of gates door is that the door wings run in the front and back direction. The operation procedure is within the human body's line of vision, which is more secure. In addition, given that the door wings do not require to be pulled back into package, The designs of swing doors are more different. Due to the above qualities, swing doors are usually used in banks, corporate structures, high-end office complex, etc. Anti-trailing function: There is an overall infrared light band detection area in the channel. The switch state can be adjusted by software application according to the client's accuracy requirements. The application of the light band to adjust to different needs avoids the drawbacks of point-type infrared detectors that are quickly contaminated and affects the reliability of judgment, and can successfully evaluate the future. Tag reader who reads the card. When the system figures out that tailgating has occurred, the system will respond based upon the location of the legitimate cardholder returned by the infrared detector. After the door opening signal is sent, there are still some abnormal uses that will activate an alarm.

[maxipoort]

Ongeëvenaarde aluminium poorten

Onze aluminium draaipoorten en schuifpoorten combineren duurzaamheid met elegantie, waardoor ze de perfecte keuze zijn voor wie op zoek is naar een stijlvolle entree. Onze elektrische schuifpoorten en draaipoorten worden met vakmanschap vervaardigd en zijn verkrijgbaar in diverse RAL-kleuren om perfect aan te sluiten bij de architectuur van uw woning. Schuifpoort automatiseren met videofonie of parlofonie? Ook dat is mogelijk!

[szrssecurity]

Swing Door Turnstile is typically called a slap door in the rail transit market. Its barrier body (gate pendulum) remains in the kind of an aircraft with a specific area, perpendicular to the ground, and swings through rotation Implement blocking and release. The products of the obstructing body are commonly stainless-steel, organic glass, and tempered glass. Some also utilize metal plates covered with special versatile products (to reduce the damage caused by hitting pedestrians). Bridge Smart Swing Door Turnstile The more popular name has actually been inherited from the original bridge-shaped structure. It consists of a primary chassis and two movable swing bars. The swing bars can swing 180 ° or 90 ° to achieve the function of discouraging or releasing. Column Swing Barrier Turnstile The appearance of the main devices remains in the kind of a column, which can carry out the same functions as the bridge type Swing Gate. It is characterized by lower cost and less space. RS Security Co., Ltd Main Products: barrier, flap gate, full height gate, swing gate, hydraulic bollard, roadway blocker, access control, face acknowledgment, barrier gate and so on. Application of Swing Barrier Turnstile It is mainly utilized for passage entryway and exit management. Usually, just people are enabled to go through, or people dragging luggage, and disabled individuals. Considering that Swing Gate can attain larger channel qualities than wing gates. Most Swing Door Gate passages can be blended with pedestrians, bicycles, mopeds, handicapped vehicles and other non-motorized automobiles. element Swing Gate structural structure: Swing Door Turnstile consists of chassis, movement, swing arm, control system, infrared sensing unit, It consists of control equipment and other parts. High-end brake Swing Barrier Turnstile includes: chassis, brake movement, control system, infrared sensor, control equipment and other parts (high-end brake Swing Door Turnstile is that it can stop rapidly and efficiently, there is no shaking, no mechanical stuck structure, and the swing arm instantly opens after power failure. It fully complies with fire protection requirements).

[peachesofteal]

Simple Math / Part Two

Simple Math masterlist

Ghost/Soap/female reader 3.4k words - AO3 Warnings-tags: 18+ no smut but this fic contains mature themes. Medical inaccuracies, hospitals, medical procedures, medications, blood and injury, nurse!reader, hurt/comfort, emotional hurt/comfort, feelings of fear, anxiety. Panic attack. Implied past abuse. Implied stalking. Deep breath.

There is blood in Johnny's eyes.

He comes to with a start, Price’s voice barking out an order, pressure and flame and blood all washing over him, pain erupting across every receptor in his brain like he’s being shredded alive. 

“Bloody hell, hold him steady.” 

It’s still Price, roaring over the chop-chop-chop of the helicopter blades, bloodied hands trying to keep pressure on the hole in his stomach, his side. 

It burns. Everything burns, his body feels like it’s on fire, bones turning to ash inside his skin, chest being torn apart by some invisible force. He can’t get enough air. There is something shoved inside his ribs, something heavy that’s weighing his lungs down, keeping him underwater, cinderblocks tied to his feet.

He tries to move, but he can’t. 

Gaz is strapping him down to a stretcher, he thinks, and when he ratchets a strap across his legs, Johnny screams in agony. 

“’m sorry mate, I’m sorry.” 

Where is Simon? There are faces here, but none of them are the one he needs. His LT. “W-where is Si?” He slurs, and Price frowns, leaning back over his face, calling his name. 

“Johnny, Johnny. Hold still. You’re on a medevac. We’re lifting you to base.” 

“Si-“ 

“Simon isn’t here, remember? Johnny, oi. Keep your eyes open, Sergeant.” Remember? Does he remember? He tries. Tries to place his partner’s face amongst the rubble, the blast, the screaming. 

Where is Simon?

Your coffee maker sputters to life in the silence of your apartment, churning out the dark, thick, life-giving liquid, and you can’t beat back the glare that fixes your face upwards towards your neighbors, the ones who are running a marathon in their apartment at three in the afternoon.

Seriously. Is there a herd of elephants up there? 

You can’t be too disappointed in them, you know. It is normal working hours. Normal daytime hours. You don’t expect your neighbors to accommodate or understand your schedule. Still, it would be nice if they were just a bit more considerate. 

It’s not the end of the world, regardless. You're up now, already started your day, crawled out of bed and opened the blackout curtains to stand in the afternoon sunlight that streams through your studio apartment. You flick open your laptop as sip your morning coffee, logging into your banking app with quick efficiency, eyes roving over lists of numbers, figures adding and subtracting in your head. You’re so close to being able to move forward with the plan, the light at the end of the tunnel growing stronger and stronger, glowing bright with hope, something that once felt so impossible, so far away. You're going to make it. 

It’s a hike to the train.

You’re fortunate that you only have to take one, no longer having to change once, or twice, in the middle of your commute like you used to, but now you’re walking at least twelve blocks to get there, each way.

It makes you feel very exposed.

You keep your headphones in, hood of your jacket over your head, and move within throngs of people during the trek, keeping your eyes focused on the sidewalk ahead, posture tilted just enough that you can watch the ground but still see in your peripheral. You don’t relax until you make it onto the platform, and even then, your head is on a swivel as you wait for the train to arrive, and you can melt into the mix of others. Seen, but not noticed. 

Old habits die hard. 

You swipe your card to proceed through the turnstile, cool metal sliding against your hands when you push forward onto the platform, settling against a pylon as you wait, flicking through the news with half interest.

The hair on the back of your neck rises.

Someone is watching you. 

Your skin goes cold, ice beneath your jacket, and your lungs stutter with short breaths. Logically, you know you’re wrong. The faces that wait alongside you are not focused on anything but themselves, too busy staring at their own devices, tablets, readers, phones. A woman fidgets with a stroller, a man wearing headphones spits some corporate nonsense out loud, obnoxiously. You’ve already looked them over, too many times. He’s not here.

You lean against the tile, rocking your back into the grimy wall, fingers clutching against the edge of your phone. He’s not here. You’re safe. The dark of the tunnel mocks you, laughs with his voice, its circular opening growing teeth like his, ready to devour you, drag you back to hell, swallow you whole and keep you there.

He's not here. You’re safe. He doesn’t know where you are. Deep breath. 

You breathe the words deep, counting the time of your inhales and exhales until the brakes of the train are squeaking and squealing to a stop, doors opening with a hiss. Everyone moves in tandem, an amoeba inching towards the same goal, get off, get on, and you go with it, pressing inside and shuffling towards the back, angling your body outwards, molded into a corner so tight your shoulders touch the walls of the train.

Deep breath. 

“Hey, you’re early!” The nurse you’re relieving smiles brightly at you, blonde hair pulled high in a scrunchie, stickers all over her badge and ID.

“Yeah, wanted to get caught up on some admin stuff but I’ve got it, if you want to…” you motion with your head, the universal signal of ‘if you want to leave’ without saying it out loud, lest you jinx it, and the place goes to chaos in the next five minutes. She nods eagerly, launching into a run-down of your beds, who’s stable, who’s sedated, who’s still on a vent. “-and two sixty-eight is about to come down from the PACU.” Your stomach clenches with anxiety, and you check your watch.

“They took him when I left this morning…”

“Yeah, I guess there was a complication. Had to re-open his chest, put in a new tube. Poor guy, he’s battered all to shit. Did you see the scans of his femur? It’s literally in pieces.” She sighs. “His partner is in the surgical waiting room, told him the next shift nurse would come find him when he could come back to the room.” Your anxiety heightens, and an alarm bell goes off in the back of your mind as you think about Simon, pacing back and forth upstairs, and Johnny, alone in the PACU, probably coming out sedation, terrified. What is wrong with you? 

“I hear those guys are like black ops or something.” Nia, the nurse who’s worked the last three rotations with you, comments over your shoulder as she drops her bag in the pit. You raise an eyebrow skeptically. Black ops? You shiver. “They air-lifted him from a military base that’s doesn’t even exist on a map. Cass and I checked.”

“Really?” The dayshifter perks up, interested, and you hold your hands out in caution.

“Okay, okay. Let’s not speculate.” You tap your number into the tablet, reading through charts and noting updates. A little green circle with an arrow through it blinks next to Johnny’s, signifying that he’s about to be moved. “Besides, he’s been through hell. Clearly. Let’s have a little, ya know. Respect?” They all cluck, rolling their eyes and groaning, but they shut up, and Nia gives you a little grin. You might not be the charge nurse, but you were the perma-night shifter on this floor, and the one with the most seniority in this moment. 

“Alright, well. You got this?” Dayshift asks, and you wave her off.

“Goodnight.”

“You’re the best. Bye ladies!”

Simon is easy to find. He’s wearing the exact same clothes from yesterday, black cloth mask still covering half his face, hoodie pulled up over his head. He looks less exhausted, but no less anxious, dark circles still present under his eyes, body language tense. He looks… scared.

He spots you just as easily, shooting to his feet when he sees you coming, hands clenched together in anticipation, and you motion to the chair, placing yourself next to him, turning slightly to ensure you’re giving him your undivided attention.

He shifts in the seat, legs spreading out against the stiff frame, and his knee bumps yours, warmth radiating beneath denim bleeding into your scrubs. If he notices or cares about the contact, he doesn't say anything, only blinks at you in anticipation. His head tilts before you start speaking, and your skin heats when you realize he’s looking you over, eyes tracing you from head to toe before pinning you in place with a focused scrutiny.

“Has anyone come to speak with you?” You ask, silently hoping that the surgeon actually did the last part of his job, and didn’t neglect the family member in waiting room, the one who’s holding their breath as every second ticks by.

Simon nods. “They said there was a complication with his lungs?”

“They had to plate his ribs. It will give the bleed in his chest a better chance at healing, help keep him stable. They also replaced his chest tube.” His brow furrows, and you pause. Maybe visualization will help. “Do you want to see?” You tap on the tablet, bringing up Johnny’s last imaging, scrolling through the pictures to show Simon what it looks like, pointing out the before and after CT of his chest, explaining the white vs grey spaces on the image. Simon studies it, taking the tablet in his hand, fingers tracing over the screen reverently, carefully, like he's touching Johnny himself. An ocean’s worth of emotions reflects in his gaze, despair, sadness, grief- all sitting just on the edge, nearly ready to spill over. Your heart skips a beat.

“Can I see him?”

“He’s coming down from the post-surgery unit now. I’ll have to get him resettled in his room, but I promise as soon as I can, I’ll come get you.” He twitches in the chair, rubbing the back of his neck before he huffs out something that sounds like ‘okay’, and you give him one more small smile with your ‘see you soon’.

Johnny is conscious when he comes up from the PACU, barely. His vitals look good, temperature, blood pressure, heart rate all in target ranges, and he’s due for another round of pain medication.

"Hey, Johnny." You smile down at him, sliding the lock on his bed in place and reattaching his leads carefully, gentle enough so you don't jostle him too much. 

"Hi, pretty girl." He slurs, and you chuckle, instinctively rolling your eyes before patting his good hand. 

“Came out of sedation fine, but he’s been a bit emotional.” The PACU nurse warns you, eyes soft with sympathy when she glances at him in the bed. “He’s asking for his partner, I think. Simon?”

“Yeah. I’ll take care of it.” You scan the post op notes, hitting all the important things, logging his last vitals check so you can administer his meds. The incision in his chest has been reopened, and then closed, and his lower body is completely immobilized in the bed, his hip pinned, femur delicately pieced back together with a plethora of plates and screws, so many you think it’s probably more metal than bone now. “How are you feeling?" You ask, heart tugging a bit at the hopelessness in his eyes. “Ready to get some more sleep?” He groans a response, words jumbled together and cracking into a sob that has tears trickling down his cheeks.

“Si..”

“He’s not back yet.” You try to explain gently, grabbing an extra blanket to put over the scaffolding around his leg. “Once I get you settled, we’ll bring him up, okay?”

“H-hurts.” He cries, vibrant blue eyes finding yours, scared, and desperate. “It h-hurts.” He’s openly crying now, shoulders starting to shake, and the monitor chimes at you, registering an increase in heart rate and blood pressure.

“I know. I know it does.” You clean his port, tracking the uptick in numbers on the screen. “Hey, hey. Shhh, it’s okay.” You try to calm him as you flush the line, pushing the saline from the side of the bed. “You’re alright. We’re almost,” You administer the medication easily, counting in your head, replacing it with another saline before reattaching his fluids line, all of the motions so second nature that it allows you keep your focus on him. “there.”

You expect him to calm down. Most patients do, but his heart rate continues to tick upwards, and his respirations don’t decrease, lungs heaving against the fresh sutures in his chest. His hand, the good one, skates across your elbow and down your forearm to grab a hold of you, fingers gripped onto yours tightly, like he’s afraid you might let go.

“It’s alright, Johnny. You’re okay.” His eyes don’t leave your face, his own jaw slack, pain meds coursing through his system. He's frightened, big blue eyes wide and anxious, and you squeeze his hand, stroking your thumb across his knuckles. “Deep breath.” You see patients upset, in pain, all the time. It’s an everyday part of your job. Even the hand holding is a necessary, frequent part of your profession.

But with Johnny, something feels different.

“It’s okay. You’re okay, just try to relax. Take some long breaths- good. That’s good.” You soothe him, rubbing soft touches into his skin. His head is turned to where you’re standing next to the bed, chest still heaving, and he winces with each exhale. “It’s just the last of the sedation, it can make you a little out of sorts. The pain meds are going to kick in real soon.” You reach over, and press the call button, twice. You can feel the pressure, the burn of his attention, his unwillingness to look away from you, and you hum out the softest words you can find, encouraging him to take calm, deep breaths. 

When Nia appears, she frowns. “Everything alright?”

“Hey, yes. Could you do us a favor and go up to the surgical waiting room? Johnny’s partner Simon, is waiting to be told he can come down.” She looks from you to him, reading the situation just as you would if the roles were reversed.

“Got it.” She makes her exit, fast, and Johnny gulps, still staring up at you with bright, wet, blue eyes.

“See? She’s going to get him. Everything’s alright.” He nods, barely, starting to succumb to the medication, and you exhale, letting out some of the tension from the last few minutes.

Simon comes through the door in a whirlwind, and you immediately raise your free hand, palm out, to slow his hurried panic.

“He’s okay.” You point to where Johnny is still clutching onto you. “He was still in a fair amount of pain when he came down, and coming out of sedation can be disorientating. I think he panicked a little when he realized you weren’t here.” He nods silently, taking his place bedside, towering over both you and Johnny, leaning past you to brush his lips against Johnny's forehead in a sweet, smooth kiss. 

"I'm here, sweet boy." He murmurs, voice so low you barely catch it. You step back, pulling your grasp from Johnny's, but he tightens his fingers, grip stronger than you anticipated, and you stop mid step, glancing to his partner. “I got him.” Simon reaches for where the two of you are connected, sliding his own hand overtop yours, replacing the contact before holding Johnny's hand whole. He’s so careful, lowering himself into the chair, carefully holding onto Johnny until he’s seated, bringing his palm to his mask covered lips. “I’ve got you.”

“Si.”

“I’m here Johnny. Rest.”

“Ye weren’t there.” He croaks, and Simon’s eyes shutter with a long inhale.

“I know.”

“Ah needed-“ He loses the words, dazed in a swirl of semi-consciousness. “was scared.” Simon strokes some of the hair that’s in disarray away from his forehead, smoothing his thumb back and forth above his eyebrow.

“Shhh, everything’s alright now. I’m here.”

The chair in supply closet 2b knows you well. It’s an old thing, something pulled from a patient room once it was deemed too squeaky, and too uncomfortable, shoved in here to be discarded at some point in the future.

That was months ago.

Now, it sits in a dark little corner, plastic packages of disposable PPE and gowns littered on top of it in a heap, excess supply with no place to live. Everyone takes turns in it, shifting whatever it happens to be holding that day onto the ground and settling in for what some could call a break, brief moments that could last seconds or minutes, quick opportunities to get off your feet and most importantly, not have to speak or be spoken to, for an indeterminate amount of time.

This is usually where you hide when you need a second. When there’s a lull, and the pit is full of nurses, techs, students or whoever else may have downtime, talking and laughing together, building relationships, getting to know one another. Making friends. It's a small luxury at work, to have that time, those friendships. 

Luxuries someone who wants to be seen, but not noticed, not known, does not have.

You close your eyes, head tipped back against the chair.

It’s okay to be alone. You can do this. Deep breath. 

Your mind floats to two sixty-eight, to Simon and Johnny. What is it like, to be loved like that? To be so fiercely cared for? Johnny’s teary, blue eyes and Simon’s soft, loving regard for him makes your stomach flip. You didn’t even know love like that was real. The only taste of love you’ve ever had left ash in your mouth, poison in your veins, and deep, deep scars across your body and soul that you’ll never be free of.

Deep breath. 

Your work phone and the tablet both start to beep, a shrill noise that makes you wince, muscle memory of what it indicates making you leap from the chair.

The screen shows a red flashing symbol next to room two sixty-eight.

Johnny.

“He’s tachycardic.” You tell the tech who’s fumbling with the phone, firing off a rapid text message to the on-call for this floor. You hold Johnny’s forehead still with the heel of your hand, using a finger to flick open his eyelids one by one, flashing the pen light across his pupils. “Pupils are dilated, BP is elevated- no call him- call him right now. Do what I said, I don’t care what he told you.” You bark, glancing up at where Simon is frozen across the bed from you, grip so tight against the rail that you think it might break.

“Simon-“ He cuts you off, but you’re half paying attention to him, too busy checking the site of Johnny’s chest tube, and then moving onto the dressing on his lower abdomen, ensuring it doesn’t feel scalding to the touch.

“He was fine. He was just… sleepin' and then-“ You move around the bed, pulling the oxygen tube longer, replacing the cannula with a mask.  

“Simon, I need you to step out.” You press two buttons on the machine, ensuring it’s on high flow, door sliding open with Nia’s arrival.

“No.” His refusal is steadfast.

“Simon, hey.” He lurches closer to Johnny, and on instinct, you reach out and grab his forearm, stopping him in his tracks. His eyes are wild, bleak with anguish, and his chest heaves heavily, panic radiating from his massive form. “Listen to me, listen. I’m here. I’ve got him, alright? But there are about to be five other people in this room, and we can’t work if you’re in the way.” You speak firmly, clearly, trying to get your point across as the door opens again, and the on-call attending is standing on the other side. Simon glances from him, back to you, and you nod reassuringly, swallowing the lump in your throat that forms when he latches onto your own arm, squeezing it tight. “He’s in good hands.” You tell him, nodding to the tech that’s waiting to usher him towards the hallway. 

He keeps his eyes trained on Johnny, before they flick over to where you’re lowering the bed completely flat, free hand on his bicep, thumb rubbing a small semi-circle into his skin, just like you watched Simon do last night, and earlier today. He swallows, endless depths of desperation welling in his eyes, and you take a deep breath, imbuing your voice with all the strength you have.

“I’ve got him. I promise.”

[peterparkouryo]

fell from the sky into my lap | ⍣ ೋ

⍣ ೋ

prompt; You encounter a very charming boy on the train.

warning: fluff, fluff, and did i mention fluff?

word count: 1.5k

a/n: meet cute!! i missed writing <3 (also ignore the fact that i used this gif once b4, feel free to send me tom gifs for future fics 😭)

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ taglist

You step out of Midtown High, the warm afternoon sun casting long shadows across the pavement. You had decided to stay after school, opting to have a small study session with a few of your friends for an upcoming test for the gruesome mathematics class, also known as calculus. The weight of your backpack pulls slightly at your shoulders as you make your way down the stairs of the school building, balmy wind blusters against your skin. Descending down the stairs finally, you keep your head down and walk across the football field, creating a safe distance between you and the ongoing practice taking place. 

What seemed forever, but in reality was maybe a good two to three minute walk off the school grounds, you head toward the train station. The familiar hum of chatter and the rhythmic clack of shoes on the sidewalk fill the air, blending into a comforting soundtrack of the end of the school day.

As you approach the station, the distant sound of a train horn echoes, signalling its arrival. Just in time, you thought to yourself. You quicken your pace, the excitement of heading home, mixed with the anticipation of the journey itself, propelling you forward. The station is a bustling hub of activity, with students, commuters, and travelers weaving in and out of the crowd.

You swipe your transit card at the turnstile, the beep granting you passage onto the platform. The cool, metallic scent of the train station mingles with the faint aroma of fresh coffee from the nearby café. You glance up at the electronic display board, noting the arrival time of your train. It's right on schedule.

The train glides into the station with a soft hiss of brakes and a rush of wind. The doors slide open, inviting you inside. You step onto the train, the cool air conditioning a welcome relief from the warmth outside. You find a seat by the window and settle in, reaching into your backpack and digging through to find your wired headphones, despite begging your parents for regular ones.

You open your phone, clicking the green app for music, scrolling through many playlists you've obsessively created for various different scenarios. Picking a playlist you don't remember creating, you let out a tired yawn and sit back, wandering your eyes to the left, and daydreaming  about your bed. 

The train ride was relatively quiet, aside from a crying baby (not that you could hear it, but breaking your daydream to observe your surroundings, you could see a crying baby), and the loud music blasting in your ears. 

For the next six minutes, the music from your headphones consumed your ears, guaranteed to worsen your hearing in the next twenty years or so. You were at an unusual ease you normally don't feel when you're alone on a train by yourself. It could do with the fact that there was maybe five or six people onboard, you weren't too sure.

You lay your head back against the seat and stare out the window, the passing buildings rapidly leaving your vision. A bored sigh leaves your lips, the spotify ad only adding onto the exhaustion you felt. 

The train stops, indicating people were either leaving or stepping on the train, and you tear your gaze away from the window out of curiosity, watching a couple people swipe their transit cards. You notice the last person, a boy with hair as brown as a bear, swipe his card more than once, and you can only assume something was wrong.

The more you watch the boy struggle, the more you feel bad because not only was the operator getting impatient, the passengers moan and groan as well. Slowly you dig into your pocket for your card, standing up and swiftly walking to the front of the train. Showing the boy a friendly smile, you glance at the operator, who's eyebrows were furrowed and a permanent frown carved onto his face.

"Um, he can use my card." You say unsurely, not entirely positive thats even how transit cards work.

The man narrows his eyes and stares between you and the boy for a good while before he exhales a huff.

"Go ahead, you're holding up my line." He mumbles and you furrow your eyebrows and glance behind you, seeing that it was only the boy and no one else, but you decide not to say anything about it.

You swipe the transit card, watching the red dot change to green, and the boy sighs in relief.

"Thank you." He says, watching your every move as you put your card back into your pocket.

You nod and your eyes drift to his face, studying him carefully, because boy, he was gorgeous. The boy had eyes just as brown as his hair, maybe even a little lighter with the golden specks straggling within them. If anyone was lucky (such as yourself) to stand so close to him, one might be able to see the small barely visible, but undeniably delightful freckles scattered across his nose.

Your eyes trail down to his lips, but not in a weird way, the small smile etched on his face captivated you and deep in your stomach, you swore you felt butterflies erupt. The smile was warm and inviting, and one of his most endearing features, capable of lighting up his entire face. It gave him a friendly, yet approachable demeanour. 

He was the kind of person who had the-boy-next-door kind of vibe, and you can't help but gaze longer than intended, making him uncomfortable in a way you had no intentions of doing.

So, you clear your throat, and quickly look at your shoes. 

"Its no problem." You mutter.

There's a standstill silence between the two of you, the murmur of passengers, the rustling of bags and the occasional ring of a phone not helping the awkwardness you felt whatsoever.

Eventually, the boy shows you yet another charming smile, walking past you to sit in a nearby seat. You return to yours and try your hardest not to stare at the boy diagonally across from you.

There's a standstill silence between the two of you, the murmur of passengers, the rustling of bags and the occasional ring of a phone not helping the awkwardness you felt whatsoever.

Eventually, the boy shows you yet another charming smile, walking past you to sit in a nearby seat. You return to yours and try your hardest not to stare at the boy diagonally across from you.

That challenge, however quickly crashes when you glance at him only to see him gazing back, in a way that wasn't entirely creepy, but cumbersome for the both of you. You do your best to show him a smile, cringing slightly when you realize its more of a nervous grimace than what you intended.

Though, he shows no signs of being weirded out by your so called "smile", he waves as you wave back. A rush of warmth and pleasantry overtakes you when he looks away. You'd think this is the first time any boy has ever showed you this much attention, no matter how little it might have been.

Minutes pass in a blur as the train carries you forward, each moment seamlessly blending into the next. Ultimately, you reach your stop and you gather your things, albeit a bit reluctantly. As you leave, you bite your lower lip and share a scrutiny when you walk past him, making your exit off the train.

While you step off the train, and make it your mission to ascend up the stairs, a hand purchases on your shoulder causing you to flinch fearfully, many thoughts running through your head as you make the stupid decision to turn around to face the culprit.

 All fears subside once you meet the familiar chestnut brown eyes of the boy from the train.

He realizes your initial fear and holds up your tangled headphones. "You left these on the train." He blinks.

"Thank you." You obligate, retrieving the headphones from his hand.

The boy nods and buries his hands in his pocket, unwieldy looking around.

You tilt your head as a thought comes about.

"Is this your stop?" You wonder.

He breaks his train of thought and stares right at you before laughing awkwardly. "Um, no my stop was actually three more blocks away." He informs and guilt fills you at that information.

"Oh, I'm sorry," You apologize, frowning.

He shakes his head quickly. 

"No, its fine I was just going to stop at Delmar's anyway." He reassures and smiles, holding out his hand.

"Also, I'm Peter by the way, Peter Parker." 

You return the smile and shake Peter's hand at his dorky introduction, speaking your name in greeting.

"I know, we share a gym class." Peter says.

You blink at the revelation, having no idea he even went to Midtown. Small world, you think.

"Anyway, is it okay if I walk you up the stairs, in a non weird way that seems creepy." Peter offers shyly, interrupting the barely there silence. There was something about his adorably dunce proposal that made you appreciate him despite only knowing the boy for ten minutes at most.

"Sure." You agree all too eagerly.

With new found courage, you and Peter make your way up the stairs of the train station and you're greeted with the bustling New York city, of what you can only describe as chaotic, honking cars and fellow civilians either on their arguing or arguing on their phones.

You felt excited to be walking next to Peter, no matter how small your interactions have been or how little you two new each other, you were grateful for his presence.

Grateful that you decided to take the train. Had you would've walked, only god knows what could've happened, the foreign feeling of butterflies in your stomach would not had been, that's for certain.

taglist: @victoriousskylar @imawhoreforu @myfangirlinessononeblog

shoutout to the divider account: @saradika-graphics

[something-tofightfor]

On Deck Part 1: Hot Corner

Pairing: Jack Daniels x Female Reader Baseball AU

Word Count: 8,117

Rating: M (language, general adult thoughts, etc.)

Summary: Taking your best friend's little brother to a minor leage game to see his favorite player just might lead to a lot of changes in your life.

And you're ready.

Author’s notes: 

This story has been in progress for more than two years. I've written about Baseball Jack many times before ... but only the "after". It's time to see how - and where - it all began.

(On Deck universe masterlist for all the extras!)

Thank you to everyone that convinced me to work on this and to keep this pairing going / to flesh them out more. I have had so much fun with this because I have such a love for the MLB (and the men who play in the league) - and I'm so excited to share it.

While there are a lot of baseball references within this story, you only need to know the basics to enjoy it and understand them - we're not getting overrly technical here.

As always, if you have any questions or comments, please feel free to reach out. I hope you enjoy this as much as I am.

Third base is often called the ‘hot corner’ due to the prevalence of right handed hitters - and subsequent on-field action - in the league. The third baseman is typically the infield position player closest to the batter, so to excel in this position, players need to display quick reaction times and exceptional hand-eye coordination. 

“We’re going to be late.” He stood next to you, arms crossed over his chest. “We still have to walk to the stadium.” 

“Caleb.” You sighed, closing and then locking the car door before sticking your keys into the small bag you’d bought specifically for games. “We’re here. We’re parked. The stadium is right there.” Pointing with one finger, you raised a brow and grinned. “The parking lot is only half full, and we’ve already got seats, so -”

“Yeah, but we’re going to miss warm ups and the pregame.” He rolled his eyes, turning away from you and heading toward the ballpark. “And those are the best parts.” 

You agreed, but for a very different reason than the twelve year old you were with. 

You’d been to games with him and Erin before. You and your friend sat a few rows back while the pre-teen hurried down to field level, a baseball and a pen clutched in one hand, hoping to meet at least one of the players after they’d finished warming up and stretching. 

From your vantage point, the two of you had been free to whisper about the players - pointing out the way their uniforms fit, discussing whether or not their asses were in mid-season form yet, or even commenting on the stretches they chose to warm up with before the game. Typically, you didn’t have a thing for men in uniform - but baseball pants were a different story. 

You loved the game, and had been visiting The Distillery - your local team’s home park - since you were a child, attending games with your family and friends and even dates as the years passed. Baseball games were the perfect summer activity no matter who you were with, and that was even true when your company was the younger brother of your best friend… and the game wasn’t a Major League competition. 

“She’s got the tickets.” He made the announcement when you reached the gates, the boy pointing back over his shoulder at you. “Two of them.” You smiled at the attendant, sliding your unzipped bag across the table so she could search it, and then returned your eyes to Caleb. He’d already removed his ballcap and the wallet he carried, pushing them forward and stepping through the metal detector. 

“He’s excited, hmm?” 

“Yeah.” Letting her scan the ticket barcodes, you laughed. “He really is.” Caleb waited for you to follow him through the turnstiles, his hat flipped backwards on his head, and you could see the impatience on his face. “Caleb, do you want to get something to eat before we -”

“No.” He shook his head. “Not yet. Before the game starts, but …” He glanced over his shoulder and you looked down at the field, where the grounds crew were still getting everything ready. “Can we go down there? I want to try and meet him. He’s playing today. They said it on the news.”

“Go.” Your smile widened, head moving up and down in a nod. “I’m right behind you, kid.” 

Caleb took off running toward the stairs that led down toward the third base line, and you followed him slowly, taking your time and eyeing the seating situation. There were people already waiting; a handful of kids and their parents, along with a few women that looked to be your age or a little younger, but there were still plenty of seats open adjacent to the field. 

You sat closer than you normally would have, deciding to take a seat in the row directly behind the boy. Just in case. For the next ten minutes, you paid no attention to the field, instead scrolling through social media and waiting, the music pumping through the speakers fading to background noise as you mindlessly browsed and clicked ‘like’ on a few posts. 

You also let Erin know that you’d made it to the game, and that Caleb was exactly where he wanted to be. But when you glanced up, ready to take a picture to send to her, you were distracted by the sight of the team taking the field. Caleb was too, the boy bouncing up and down in place as he leaned forward, resting his hands on the low wall in front of him. 

You watched for a few minutes - eyeing the players as they did their sprints and stretches, your lips twisting into a small smile at the sight of some of them utilizing their trainers for extra resistance during a few of the exercises. “He’s not here.” Caleb turned back to look at you, disappointment on his face. “Why isn’t he here?”

“Maybe he’ll come out late.” You shrugged, still looking at the field. “You never know, kiddo. You said he’s in the lineup, right?” 

“Yeah.” He turned back to the field, leaning forward. “They talked on the radio about how he was coming back today, because they want him to back in Louisville by the end of next week, and -” Caleb stopped mid sentence, straightening up. “There he is!” 

You couldn’t help it, your attention snapping in the direction that he was pointing. Sure enough, Jack Daniels and one of the trainers - a woman with short, dark hair and glasses - were taking the field to a low chorus of cheers, many of them coming from the section you were sitting in. There he is. 

Despite yourself, you leaned forward to watch him, staring as Jack began his warm up. He started with a few stretches - knee hugs and focusing on his quads, carefully extending and testing his arms, and then bent forward at the waist, the man almost able to press his palms flat against the ground without bending his knees. 

You didn’t take your eyes off of him, because like Caleb, one of the reasons you liked going to the Statesman games was looking at Jack Daniels. And there’s so much to look at.

The trainer watched him closely as he continued to warm up, speeding up his movements and then doing a series of static stretches. But when Jack started to do lunges, you actively fought back a groan, settling against the backrest of your seat and chewing on your lower lip. That’s hot as fuck. 

He looked healthy, and you were happy to see it, because the truth was that the Statesman needed him to be. “He didn’t warm up yesterday.” You turned your head toward the voice, watching as another woman next to you stared at Jack, her smile wide. “He stretched a little, and took batting practice, but he didn’t warm up.” 

“Oh, you were here yesterday, too?” She nodded, and when you glanced back at the field, you saw that Jack and the trainer had switched to more arm exercises, warming up the muscles of his upper body. 

“He pinch hit late in the game.” She leaned forward, her smile widening as she watched Jack start arm circles, the trainer standing a few feet away from him with her arms crossed. “So I knew he’d play today. And that’s why I’m here.” She leaned closer, lowering her voice. “Gonna shoot my shot when he comes over here to sign for the kids. Why not, right? We both know he goes for it sometimes.” 

The girl was pretty - and definitely dressed to get his attention. She wore one of his t-shirts artfully slashed to show off her cleavage and had her legs on display in a pair of cutoff denim shorts. Good for her. “Yeah, why not.” You smiled, turning your head away from where the players were sprinting into the outfield and back to give her your full attention. “Even if he’ll be back in Louisville pretty soon, you might as well. See what happens.”

“It’s only 40 minutes away.” She shrugged, looking out and pointing at where the man was laying on the field, one knee bent and his other ankle resting against the top of it. The trainer was applying extra resistance, and you hummed in approval as you watched. I wish I was that trainer.  “I’d drive there if I needed to.” 

Her eagerness didn’t surprise you. Jack was a notably eligible bachelor, and one of the most desirable men on the team. Unlike the others, though, he didn’t often publicly date. But that doesn’t mean that he doesn’t hook up. And … You returned your attention to the field, watching as he stopped to talk to the woman, pointing at the front of his left shoulder and grinning. And I’m sure he’s got his pick in every city he visits. 

“Oh, I think they’re coming over now.” 

She adjusted her shirt and you watched her posture change, the woman’s shoulders straightening and her smile widening. Instead of staring at Jack’s strut toward the seats, you looked at Caleb. The boy was buzzing with excitement as he turned toward where the man was headed - about ten people to your left, where a small crowd had gathered. “Do you think he’ll come over?” Caleb said your name, frowning. “There’s not much time, and -”

“He will.” You leaned in, reaching out to touch his arm. “You’re wearing one of his shirts, right? He’s gotta stop for you.” Caleb grinned, turning back toward the field, though he kept his head turned to the left. 

You watched Jack then, smiling as he interacted with the fans. He signed autographs and posed for a few pictures, his smile genuine. But you noticed that he was really only focused on the kids and teenagers, spending more than a few seconds with them instead of moving along as quickly as was politely possible the way he did with adults. He took pictures with a few women, the man leaning in but keeping both hands behind his back. He puts his hands on the kids’ shoulders, but doesn’t touch the women… interesting. 

“Keep your phone out. I’m gonna need you to take a picture.” Caleb was excited, the boy happier than you ever remembered seeing him. You laughed but did as he asked, leaning to the right and angling the phone so that you could snap a picture of the two of them, though Jack was barely in the frame. 

The girl next to you leaned forward when he was only a person or two away, and then seemed to second guess that decision. You bit back a laugh as she stood and climbed over the seats, standing next to Caleb and effectively blocking your view of the man on the field. Gee, thanks.

He finished with the little girl that he’d been speaking to, handing her back a signed baseball and a pen, and then took a step to the side and in front of the woman, saying hello. 

Clearly hearing his voice in person shocked you - the man’s accent thick, even in the few words he spoke. You desperately wished that you could see him, but you didn’t want to shift in your seat and draw attention to yourself. I’ll see him when he talks to Caleb.

“I heard you were playing and had to come today.” She leaned forward, fingertips resting against the wall. “It’s been too long since I’ve seen you.”

“Yeah?” He laughed, reaching up to pull his hat off and then set it back down on his head, taking a few seconds to think. You caught a glimpse of the bullseye tattoo on his hand, biting down on your lower lip at the sight. “Well thank you for comin’ out. It’s good to be back on the field.” The woman giggled and then held her phone up, tilting her head to the side. 

“Can we get a picture? I’ll tag you in it on Instagram, and -”

“Sure.” You watched as the woman spun around and then leaned backwards, holding her phone up to take a selfie. “Hope it’s a good one.” He smiled, peering at the phone from over her shoulder, and you fought back a roll of your eyes at how wide and practiced her smile was - the woman’s head cocked to the side - and toward his. 

When she straightened up, he took a half step toward Caleb, already tipping his head down and toward the boy. But the woman spoke up before he could fully move on, reaching out to touch his arm. “Thank you, Jack. You have no idea how much I -” He flinched - just barely, but you saw it, his shoulder jerking back slightly as her fingertips made contact.

“No problem. Thank you, and enjoy the game.” She stiffened, but you didn’t focus on that. You turned your attention to the boy in front of you - and in turn, Jack, whose face split into a grin, the man’s dimple on display, even beneath the shade from the brim of his hat. “Well hi there. I’m Jack, what’s your name?” 

“Caleb.” He leaned forward and you opened your camera app again, your smile widening, too. Caleb’s going to be so excited later. “I had tickets to see you play in Louisville and then you got hurt and I didn’t know if you’d be back this season but then my mom bought me tickets for today after I found out you were going to play again, and so we drove all the way here -” 

“Slow down there, big guy.” Jack laughed, giving you a glimpse of his teeth, and then gestured to Caleb’s hand, the boy holding a Sharpie tightly. “You want me to sign somethin’ for you?” 

“Yeah. This ticket, please.” Caleb held the marker out, looking up at Jack. “And I’ve got your jersey, but it was too hot to wear it today, so I picked this t-shirt instead.” 

“Of course I will.” He nodded, taking the Sharpie and the paper, scrawling his name across the front of it. “Turn around and I’ll sign real big on the number on the back.” Caleb spun around and you were thrilled to see that he was almost delirious with excitement, his eyes wide and his smile nearly splitting his face in two. 

“Can I take a picture of you signing for him?” Jack glanced up at the sound of your voice, his smile faltering for a split second and a confused look passing over his features. “I didn’t want to just do it and have the flash go off, and…”

“Go right ahead.” He smiled again, giving you a nod. “Thank you for askin’.” It only took a few seconds for him to sign, but you took multiple pictures, and then as Jack capped the marker, you decided to speak up again, not wanting to make Caleb ask. 

“And can I get one of the two of you looking at the camera before he turns around again?’

“You’ve already got your phone out.” Jack smirked at you, and then reached up to tilt the brim of his hat back, showing you more of his face. Holy shit, look at him. “I’m more’n happy to take a picture with my new buddy Caleb.” 

You couldn’t help smiling at that, and when Jack settled his hand - the Sharpie poking out from between his fingers - against the boy’s shoulder and squeezed, it widened. “Got it.” You lowered the device, mouthing the words ‘thank you’ at Jack at the same time Caleb spoke them out loud, turning back to face the man. 

There were only two more kids to the right of you waiting to talk to Jack, but before moving to them, he hesitated, looking between you and the boy. “Where are you and your mom sitting today, Caleb?”  Mom? Do I really look like -

“She’s not my mom, she’s my sister’s friend. And we’re over there.” He pointed at the outfield. “Somewhere.” Why is he asking? 

“The section right at the end of the dugout.” Jack pointed, but looked directly at you. “First row. Aisle seats, 23 and 24. They’re mine, and if you want ‘em, today they’re yours.” 

“What? Jack, that -” 

“I’ve gotta go.” He nodded, looking at Caleb and grinning, and then back at you, his smile softening. “Enjoy the game.” He didn’t say anything else before he stepped down the field and then stopped to talk to the other kids waiting. What the fuck just … “That was so cool!” Caleb spun back to look at you, his eyes wide. “He signed my shirt and took a picture with me and now we get to sit in his seats, and -”

“Caleb.” You took a breath, still trying to process what had happened in the previous few minutes. “I don’t -” 

“We’re going to sit in them, right?” You didn’t know how to answer him. Should we? You sighed and then looked to your right, watching as Jack signed a baseball and handed it back to a little girl before laughing with an older man that was with her. “I mean he told us to, and -” 

“I definitely would.” The girl next to you spoke up, and when you looked over, you saw that she was jealous, her eyes narrowed as they looked you over. “Do you know him? Is that -”

“I’ve never spoken to that man before just now.” You shrugged, unsure of what else to say. “I have no idea what … or why, or …” You would have been lying if you’d said that no part of you was a little smug at the fact  that he’d offered the seats to you and not to her, but you didn’t want to be that woman. “He must have liked you, Caleb.”

“Yeah, that’s it.” She rolled her eyes, scoffing. “Whatever. I’ll just see him after the game at the players’ parking lot.” She stood then, but didn’t say anything else before she spun away from you and headed down the row and toward the aisle. 

Caleb watched her go, his head tilted to one side.“What crawled up her butt?” You snorted at his question but there was no way you could give him an actual answer - so you gave him a partial one. 

“She’s probably just sad that you get to have a great view of the game tonight, kiddo.” With a sigh, you stood up, sliding your phone back into your bag and zipping it. You looked at Jack, watching as he said goodbye to the last of the fans and then headed for the dugout. 

But he didn’t go straight there - instead, he stopped and spoke to one of the security guards, pointing at the stands. Oh, he’s… And then you were stunned when both men looked back in your direction, Jack raising one arm to point at you while nodding. The security guard caught your eye and nodded too, and you then watched as Jack gently smacked him on the arm and smiled again, finally turning away to disappear back into the dugout. 

“Can we go and see the seats? And can I get french fries? Will you send the picture to my mom? And Erin? And -” He was excited - and you couldn’t blame him - but you still laughed, gesturing for Caleb to follow you down the row and toward the opposite aisle, closer to your new seats. 

“Yeah. We’ll do all that. Let’s go.” 

There was plenty of room for the two of you to walk to where Jack had indicated, and when you got close, the same security guard that Jack had spoken to stepped forward, gesturing with one hand. “You’re right here tonight.” 

You thanked him, letting Caleb choose which seat he wanted, and when you dropped into the remaining one, you pulled your phone out again as the boy leaned forward, resting his elbows on the back of the wall in front of him. 

You had just enough time to send off a few quick texts to Erin - the pictures of Caleb and Jack, as well as one that you took from the seat and a message that said we got upgraded, I’ll explain later before the National Anthem started. 

You rose to your feet again, keeping your eyes on the field. Once the music faded and the announcer began to give the starting lineups, you were excited, your smile just as wide as Caleb’s. 

And when they announced Jack and the man trotted out onto the field to even more cheers from the crowd, you clapped along with them, pulse quickening. I love watching him play. 

He and the shortstop tossed a ball back and forth a few times while the pitcher made his way from the bullpen, and the grin never left the dark haired man’s face. By the time the ump signaled the start of the game, he was settled in place and standing a little behind the bag, knees spread and both hands resting on his thighs. 

It took a few batters for him to see any action, and when you heard the crack of the bat, Jack sprung into motion, moving toward second and bending over to scoop the ball off the infield before tossing it to first for the out. 

You cheered just as loudly as Caleb did, clapping your hands without looking away from the field - but you weren’t expecting to catch Jack’s eye when he turned to move back into place at third… and you definitely weren’t expecting him to grin at the sight of you. 

The moment was over quickly, and as the players ran off the field after the third out, you turned to Caleb, clearing your throat. “You said you wanted fries?” 

— 

You made it back to your seats just in time to watch the bottom of the second, both of you carrying a drink and a snack. Jack was batting 8th, so there was a good chance he wouldn’t hit until the next inning, giving you time to eat before he headed to the plate. 

You also checked your messages, a series of exclamation points from Erin and a thumbs up from her mother the only two you had waiting. You showed Caleb, the boy laughing and then scrolling up to look at the picture of him and Jack, his smile so broad that you thought it must have hurt. 

There were no seats in front of you, which meant that you had an unobstructed view when the man finally headed to the plate, the familiar sound of his walkup music - Hungry Like The Wolf - blaring through the stadium’s speakers. Here we go. C’mon, Jack. 

He took a few practice swings and you were relieved to see that he didn’t wince or hesitate. His swing looked comfortable, and when you leaned forward, resting your hands on your knees, you nodded as he took another, pointing the bat outward before settling it on his shoulder and waiting. 

He swung at the first two pitches, making contact on the second one and hitting a long foul down the first base line. But Jack ended up walking, taking his place on first and then getting into position as the catcher stepped to the plate. 

You watched him closely - taking in the way the dark blue jersey fit him, the V of upper chest skin - and a peek of the gold chain he wore - visible thanks to two of the buttons being undone, his socks pulled high to accentuate his muscled calves. He always looks fucking great. 

You knew it meant nothing that he’d offered you and Caleb his seats that day - that he’d just done it to be nice. But you would have been lying to yourself if you said that it didn’t make you feel good, Jack’s momentary attention a confidence boost, especially after the reception he’d given the woman next to you. 

The batter hit a single, and when Jack advanced to second and stopped, you cheered again, the man clapping his hands and shouting something that you couldn’t hear at his teammate. But it was all for nothing, because the following player popped out, ending the inning. 

Jack trotted across the field and toward the dugout, the disappointment on his face evident - but again, when he saw you he smiled, the expression only there briefly … though you certainly didn’t miss it. 

As you settled back against the seat, halfway listening to Caleb as he recounted team stats, you wondered why Jack was making so much of an effort when nothing would come of it. You thought of the woman’s comment about the players lot, wondering just how likely it was that you’d be able to meet him if you went, too. But not with Caleb here. 

The night would be a good memory at least - for both you and the boy, and that would have to be enough. 

By the time Jack stepped to the plate, you were more than ready. The setting sun shaded the sky in hues of orange and purple, the stadium’s lights brightening up the field. Your eyes flicked from where Jack stood to the scoreboard, scanning over the information about him that was displayed there and lingering on the giant image of his smiling face. 

But when you heard the groan of the crowd, your attention snapped back to home plate, where Jack was arguing with the umpire over the previous call, his head shaking back and forth. He stepped back into the box, but you could see his irritation, though it didn’t last for long.

He swung on the next pitch and made contact again, sending the ball straight through between first and second. It rolled halfway into the outfield before anyone got to it, and you got to your feet and cheered, the sound signaling that a run scored loud through the speakers. Not only had he gotten his first hit after the injury, but he’d batted someone in, giving the Cavalry the lead. 

And when the next player swung hard, sending the ball up and out and over the center field wall, the stadium erupted - Jack raising his arm and pumping his fist as he rounded third, before stopping to wait for his teammate to make it home. They celebrated for a few seconds and then off the field, and you slung an arm around Caleb as both of you cheered, too. 

They took a three run lead into the next inning, and then handled their business, setting the batters down 1-2-3 thanks to a double play that Jack initiated. You could see his confidence in every movement; his body remembering exactly what he needed to do to be successful on the field even after weeks away. And he’s good at it, too. That makes a difference.  

Caleb left the seats to fill up his cup from the fountain at the top of your section, and by the time he came back the game had started again. It was a productive inning. You spent more of it on your feet than sitting, joining the crowd in cheering as the Cavalry scored three more runs. But when Jack’s turn to bat came, you realized what the celebration meant. 

“They took him out.” You looked down at Caleb, watching as he frowned. “They’ve got such a lead, that it’s better to rest him, and …” 

“That’s stupid.” Caleb crossed his arms, sighing. “He only batted twice.” You agreed, but you also weren’t the manager of a baseball team. You figured he had a better idea of what the right strategy was when it came to Jack’s rehab … even if it did disappoint you that you wouldn’t get to see him at the plate or on the field again. 

The rest of the game went by quickly, and though they gave up a few runs, your team ended up winning handily. Caleb requested to stay and watch the on-field celebration after, and as the players lined up for high fives and handshakes before leaving for the locker room, you focused, too. Maybe he’ll come back out for a second. 

It was stupid and you knew it, but the moment the field emptied, it meant that the night - and the experience in Jack’s seats - was over… and you didn’t want it to be.

He took his place in line - still wearing his uniform but without his hat - and you watched as he greeted the other players, smiling and laughing with them as they interacted. You couldn’t hear him, but you could tell he was happy, and that made you smile, too. Maybe he really will be back in Louisville by next week. 

The handshakes ended, and when Jack headed back toward the dugout, he didn’t look in your direction again - until right before he made it to the top of the steps. 

It was then that he stopped, eyeing the seats until he saw the two of you. You tried not to react, but Caleb didn’t hide his response; the boy raising his hand and waving wildly. Jack laughed at the sight of it, lifting one of his hands in a wave, too. 

You thought that was it, but then his head turned just enough that he made direct eye contact with you. 

Even from the distance, you could see one side of his mouth lift into a half smile as he nodded, raising one hand and touching the tips of his fingers to his temple before tipping them toward you. Your smile grew and you nodded in return, but before you could do anything else, Jack disappeared into the dugout, leaving the two of you standing in front of the seats. 

Well that was something. Biting your lip and letting out a breath through your nose, you turned your attention toward Caleb, saying his name. “Alright, kiddo. We’re going to go to the bathroom before we head out, because I am not stopping twenty minutes into the drive to let you pee.” 

— 

You’d expected Caleb to talk your ear off the entire drive home. Instead, he fell asleep before you made it back to the highway, leaving you with your thoughts on the drive back. 

And you would have been lying if you said that most of those thoughts weren’t of Jack. 

The interaction with him had been limited, sure. But it had been meaningful in more than one way, for both you and Caleb. He had a cool story that he could tell his friends, and pictures that he could show them. You’d look back on the way his gaze on you had felt and remember the thrill of being on the receiving end of one of his bright smiles. 

You didn’t know him any more than any other person that had ever seen him play or interacted with him briefly, but that didn’t matter. Even if you never spoke to him again, and never saw him in any capacity aside from on the field, you’d have that night as a memory. And a damn good one.

After dropping Caleb off and promising Erin a recap the following day, you drove the short distance to your house and parked in the driveway, turning the car off and enjoying the silence for a few seconds before unbuckling your seatbelt. 

Your house was quiet and dark as you moved through it, leaving your shoes and bag by the front door and grabbing your phone before heading upstairs. You tossed that onto your bed and went into the bathroom, scrubbing your face and changing into your pajamas before staring at your reflection in the mirror. 

You’d been single for six months, and though you’d talked to a few men through the same dating app Erin had used to meet Troy, none of the conversations had led anywhere past the first awkward meetings. It wasn’t that the men weren’t interested, it was you that was selective, opting not to waste your time with anyone that reminded you of the time you’d spent with your most recent ex. 

You knew that you were being picky, but you were content with that knowledge, even if it meant a longer period of being on your own before you found the right person. And Jack couldn’t ever be the right person. You wrinkled your nose while you brushed your teeth, still watching yourself in the mirror. Because he’s been consistently single for his entire career. 

Jack kept much of his personal life private, but Janie was the exception to that. 

And after climbing into bed and plugging your phone in, you searched their names, refreshing your memory of the story that you’d become familiar with when The Statesman had first drafted Jack. 

They’d been high school sweethearts, opting to go to college together. He was going to play ball and major in engineering, and her chosen field was communications. It was clear from all of the pictures of the two of them you found that though they were young, they were in love. 

Everything had gone well for the first few months; Jack and Janie settled in on campus, started classes and began making friends. They’d come home together for Christmas, and Jack was set to begin baseball in January with the rest of the team. 

But only a few weeks into the pre-season, the unthinkable happened: Janie stopped at a convenience store to buy coffee on her way to meet her study group off campus while Jack was at a team workout, and was caught in the middle of a robbery. She hadn’t even made it to the hospital, and Jack had considered quitting the team due to his grief. 

Her parents had convinced him otherwise - reminding him that he’d worked hard for years to get to where he was, and that she wouldn’t have wanted him to give up on his dreams on her account. His parents had agreed, though there were interviews where they admitted that they would have understood if he’d chosen to take a break or even quit outright. 

And Jack had taken a few weeks off, but was ready to go on opening day, dedicating his season to Janie and her family. He was a skilled player, there was no question about it, but the coverage of a D1 athlete losing his girlfriend in such a shocking manner helped draw attention to the man and his performance, and it hadn’t taken him long to grab the attention of scouts. 

He’d had some attention in high school, too, though nothing had panned out - aside from the offer of a partial athletic scholarship. That all changed in his sophomore year when everyone really took notice of his exceptionally high fielding percentage and his infectious enthusiasm toward his teammates. 

Jack declared for the draft that was to take place a month after finishing his junior year - only days after his 21st birthday, and The Statesman had taken him with the fourth overall pick in the first round. 

The rest was history. 

He’d played with The Cavalry for almost four seasons before getting his first call-up, and though it had been toward the end of the regular season, Jack had received an invite to Spring Training the following year … and he’d never gone back. 

In his second season with The Statesman, he’d been named the starting shortstop, making a name for himself with both his agility and personality. His teammates loved him. The community loved him. The cameras loved him, and in the five seasons he’d played in his original position, he earned two gold gloves and got voted into the All-Star Game once. 

But he was injury prone, and after careful consideration, they moved Jack from shortstop to third base. It was an adjustment period for everyone involved, though after a few years of playing the position, it seemed almost natural for him, and there were fewer injuries. 

Until earlier that season, anyway, when Jack had misjudged a slide into second and jammed his shoulder, spraining a muscle and knocking him out of all baseball activities for weeks. He’d gone on the 60 day injured list, though you’d seen him at more than a few games in the dugout before he’d headed down to rehab with The Cavalry. 

He was lucky he hadn’t needed surgery, and even luckier that there’d been no complications with his healing. According to the newest articles you read as you scrolled online that night, Caleb was correct and the team was aiming to have Jack re-activated by the following weekend so that he could finish the final 7 weeks of the season in the majors. Which is where he deserves to be.

You sighed and rolled onto your side, eyes still on the screen - and on a picture of Jack that had been taken a week or two earlier during a Statesman season ticket holder event. He was grinning from behind the bar, one hand holding a glass and the other pulling on a tap to pour someone a drink. 

“Enough.” You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, pinching the bridge of your nose with your free hand. Doing a deep dive on Jack wasn’t going to change anything, even if it was keeping you occupied as you wound down for the night.

But before you put the phone down and rolled in the opposite direction, you couldn’t help opening his instagram page and checking his tagged photos, just to see if the woman from next to you had posted the picture like she said she would. 

There were countless pictures of Jack in his uniform posted - everything from on-field screenshots to pictures of him with his teammates and family - but those were dotted with more personal ones; people tagging him in photos of themselves, edited photos, or photos of Jack alone that had been taken from other sources. You didn’t have far to scroll before you found the picture of Jack and the woman, tapping it with one finger to make it bigger. 

She’d put more than one filter on it, smoothing out her features and his, and when you zoomed in on it, you wrinkled your nose. Why would you filter him? He doesn’t need it. Even with the filtering, you could see the bored look in Jack’s eyes, his smile small and tight. Not like it was with Caleb. 

She’d captioned the picture with a black and a yellow heart bracketing the number 7, and it already had more than a few likes. She also had a story, and even though you knew that she’d be able to see who viewed it, you didn’t care, hesitating for only a second before tapping on it. 

The girl - whose name was Brittany - had posted a few times throughout the game; pictures from in her seat, a video of Jack walking up to the plate, her grinning at the camera at the end of the game with the scoreboard behind her… but the final story post was clearly a picture of a parking lot with a tall fence around it, and what looked like a security guard in the corner. She went to the lot. 

You sighed, backing out of the story - and her profile - and going back to Jack’s, eyes lingering on his account’s picture. You followed him, and had for years - liking and commenting on the pictures he posted as well as tagging him and the other players in the occasional ones you’d taken at games. He’d never replied or acknowledged them in any way, though. 

And he won’t, you admitted to yourself as you closed out of the app and opened your alarm, making sure that it was set. “Good luck, Jack.” Closing your eyes after setting the device down on your bedside table, you rolled away from it and got comfortable. As you settled in, you let your thoughts wander back to earlier - to the way Jack’s eyes had warmed when he’d smiled at you, and the way his smile had widened when he saw you and Caleb sitting in his seats. 

You would have been lying if you’d said that the memories didn’t make you feel good. It didn’t matter that he’d likely smiled at hundreds of others in the same way. He’d made the night special for you and for Caleb, and that was the important thing. 

It didn’t take you long to fall asleep - and Jack followed you into your dreams… which you didn’t mind at all. 

— 

You didn’t have a meeting until 10:30 the following morning and so you slept in a little, taking a shower and getting dressed before you even checked your messages. 

There were a few from Erin, asking for details, and you promised you’d reach out once you had a break. But before then, you needed to focus and settled in in front of your laptop, clicking open your first email of the day. Back at it. 

You worked steadily until almost 1 PM, checking things off of your to-do list and scheduling a second consultation with the same client for the end of the following week. You typically worked virtually - and had since your uncle had hired you a few years prior - but there were occasional accounts that required your presence in person. And this one’s going to be one of them. 

That wasn’t an issue. Their offices were located in New Orleans, and you were looking forward to potentially spending a few paid days in the city. But we’ll see. 

While you waited for your lunch to heat, you called Erin, your friend picking up on the second ring and groaning into your ear. “Whatever happened yesterday must have been incredible because Caleb hasn’t shut up since he woke up this morning.” 

“It was pretty great, Erin,” Taking a seat at your kitchen table, you laughed. “I sent him the pictures, did he -”

“He’s already set the one of him and Jack as his phone background. And he’s been bugging me to take him to get them printed.” You weren’t surprised; Caleb loved baseball, and the opportunity that he’d had at the game the previous night had likely meant the world to him. “So how did that happen? He just offered you the tickets?” 

“Pretty much. He stopped to sign for Caleb, and just out of nowhere, asked where we were sitting.” You wet your lips, laughing. “And then once he knew we were in the outfield seats, he just … pointed at the dugout and told us that we could sit in his instead.” 

“He offered them to Caleb? Or to -”

“Well… sort of.” You stood, looking out your back window. “He asked your brother where we were sitting but he was looking at me when he offered the tickets…” You pulled your food out of the microwave and set it down to cool. “And then when we were in the seats, he made eye contact with me a couple times, but -”

“How hot is he up close?” You snorted, but she continued. “Because that picture of him and Caleb? That man’s hand is -”

“Really hot.” Humming in agreement, you reached for a fork. “And he seemed really nice, too. Paid more attention to the kids than to the adults. There was this girl sitting next to us and she was clearly trying to catch his eye, but he barely looked at her.” You figured that he was a professional and wouldn’t have done anything to jeopardize his reputation while on the field - and in front of younger fans. But still. She made it obvious. “He was polite, but he was just … going through the motions.” 

She hummed again, the sound non-committal as you took your first bite. “But not with you. And not with Caleb.” No, I guess not. “You should post those pictures and tag him.”

“Erin, I’m not trying to -”

“No, just hear me out. Maybe he’ll see them. And maybe he’ll remember you. And maybe he’ll -”

“Erin, come on. That’s a fantasy. I’m sure he’s got a million people tagging him every day. He won’t even see it if I do.” 

“You never know. It can’t hurt.” She said your name, the tone teasing. “And since Caleb’s account is private since he’s twelve, it makes sense you’d post ‘em for him. He really had a lot of fun with you. He’s already asking if you want to go to a game again.”

“Yeah. There’s still a little over a month left this season, so I’m sure we can figure out a weekend to see the Statesman. I’ll third wheel with you and Troy.” She laughed at that, agreeing. “I’m going to go, though. I need to eat. I have to run and analyze metrics for two campaigns this afternoon, and it’s going to take forever.” 

You hung up soon after, but as you ate, you contemplated what she’d said about posting the pictures. It was really no different than any of the other games you’d been to or posted about. You’d taken pictures that weren’t of Jack, and those could go up, too. Why not post the one of him and Caleb? It’s a good picture. 

After sending the final email for the day, you shut your laptop and changed into more comfortable clothes before stretching out on the couch. You needed to go to the store, but figured it could wait til later … and you had pictures to post. 

You chose five of them - one of the field from the concourse, one of the scoreboard, a picture from the seats, and then two of Jack and Caleb - one while he was signing and the other of them looking at the camera, which you made the main image. Choosing a caption was harder than picking the pictures themselves, but you finally opted for something extremely neutral: First @The_Cavalry game of the season. Great game, even better seats, and @CalebOnBase got to meet his favorite player. 

You tagged the picture - adding Jack and The Statesman’s accounts - and thought about adding one of Jack’s walk up songs to the post. No. That looks too desperate. So you posted it without, taking one final look at the images - and lingering on Jack’s smile - before you checked the Cavalry’s account to see if they’d posted that night’s lineup. 

Jack was starting again, but instead of being in at 3rd, he was the designated hitter. So he’ll get to bat, but can save his arm. It made sense, and you figured that if all went well, he’d only play in a game or two more before being called back up to the majors. And he’ll be back here. It made you smile, and the expression widened when you got a comment on the post from Caleb - four baseballs and the thumbs up emoji. 

You’d done your part, and that was that. Caleb could see that you’d posted the photos, and if by chance Jack saw the tag, he’d also see that you appreciated the seats he’d allowed you to sit in. With one final look at the pictures, you nodded and then sat up, sighing. 

“Alright. Grocery shopping’s not going to do itself.”

— 

You were stunned the next afternoon when you got an alert that The Cavalry tagged you in a story, and didn’t even try to hold back your grin when you saw that they’d reposted your pictures. You got a comment from their account a few seconds later - Glad you had a great time, thanks for coming! - the words accompanied by a blue heart and a baseball. 

After sending the link to Erin so that she could show her brother, you set your phone down, returning to the work you were doing. You stayed busy throughout the rest of the day, and even though your phone kept lighting up with new alerts - strangers liking the pictures and commenting on your post, it didn’t break your focus. 

And by the following day, things were pretty much back to normal. The story was gone, strangers weren’t still finding your profile, and you’d opted to work for most of Saturday morning to get ahead, which meant that you could take Monday off. And I can take a nap. I haven’t been able to do that in weeks. 

You pulled the drapes shut and then climbed into bed, the darkened room helping you to relax much faster than you anticipated. There was no need to set an alarm, and so you didn’t, figuring that you’d wake up on your own when you got hungry… which you did, just after 6 PM. Maybe I’ll order food. I don’t feel like cooking. 

You stretched, pointing your toes, and then reached for your phone, mentally flipping through restaurant options. But you froze with the device in front of your face as the screen lit up, eyes zeroing in on the alert in the center of it. 

Whiskey_Jack7 liked your post

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[whalesforhands]

of public transport and amusement parks

summary: gojo satoru has been sheltered his whole life, never having seen the amenities available to the general populace until his first year of highschool. (ft.first year!sashisu)

The turnstiles clatter against a certain someone’s thigh, a clench of teeth, red cheeks and the shine of a slightly teary gaze as his hands quickly fly to grip onto the affected area.

Gojo Satoru is not going to admit he was hurt by the inanimate gate that allowed entrance into what his classmates called ‘public transport’.

“What an idiot.” Ieiri Shoko is sipping upon an iced coffee, the bitterness lingering on her tongue as she crossed her arms, her totebag shifting slightly as she rolled her shoulder.

“Rich people are certainly a different breed.” Geto Suguru is less than impressed by that new pompous classmate of his, a quirked brow and narrowed eyes.

“Is he… Okay?” You’re in two minds as your nervous eyes flitter between your all too calm classmates and the one practically kneeled over in pain.

“He’s perfectly fine. Look at him.” Suguru’s tilting his head towards the boy that was limping towards your little group, a frown on his face and words said through gritted teeth. “Commoner amenities…”

“Oho? I thought you were the one who wanted to go?” Geto’s face is smug as he watches irritation emanate from his classmate, your form inbetween the both of them as you feel the tension raise.

Oh no.

“Spouting off as if you’re so high and mighty, am I starting to rub off on you, Weird Bangs?” A provocation as sunglasses start to slide down the length of his nose.

“Dream on, pretty boy. I’d rather swallow a thousand curses.” Flared purple meet egoistic blue.

“Why? Don’t feel like talking things out with me?” A smirk upon his good-looking face. “I’ll make sure to say everything real~ slow for your ears.”

Rising attitudes and sparks fly.

(You’re trying to hide your face behind your sunhat and pretend you don’t know these two.)

“Oiii, train’s coming in 2 minutes.” Thank goodness for Shoko, you feel her arm hoop around your arm. A hushed whisper under her breath.

“Let’s go before they start a brawl.”

Grand opening of XY Amusement Park! The largest ferris wheel, the fastest rollercoasters, a beautiful carousell and much more! Come enjoy a fun-filled day of adventure with your family and friends!

(Not to mention the cheap entrance fee just for students.)

And Gojo Satoru was hooked. It was a spur of the moment decision, a yearning want in his chest, an impulse that pushed him to burst into the dorm loungeroom, flyer in hand and sparkling eyes that expected full compliance.

“Huh?” Geto Suguru is blinking at the flyer basically thrusted into his face. “You’re into this kind of thing?” Copper-purple scan over the colourful words and cute mascots littering the paper before he lifts an arm to push it away.

“Stop smushing it onto my face, I can see perfectly—“

“Weird bangs, I demand you to show me the way to this!” The flyer is pulled away to reveal an all-encompassing blue that commanded attention; a hint of childish excitement within those sparkling orbs.

A look of disgust. “No way. Get there yourself.” Geto easily dismisses him as his gaze flits back to the book upon his lap. “This kinda thing is a waste of time.”

A quick rejection, but as a Gojo, he won’t give up so easily.

“Oi, healing girl! How do I get to this place?”

“I-ei-i-ri.” She slowly enunciates each syllable of her last name, her grimace slowly devolving into a smirk upon her face as she notices the irritation on the white-haired boy grow. “Why? Can’t figure it out yourself, genius?”

She still hasn’t forgiven him for eating the strawberry roll cake you had bought for her earlier this week.

Another rejection. Will he really not get to go afterall…? Maybe he can ask Yaga or somethin— His ears perk up at the sound of a muted squeak.

Crystal blue immediately shoots to your form reading a magazine on the sofa, hiding your face away behind the papers as you curl up and make yourself seem small.

A devious grin.

“Sayyyyy…” He thinks for a moment, eyes narrowed and a smirk upon his face. “(name).” A shiver runs down your spine at the mention of it, drawled out with each syllable enunciated with an underlying motive.

“You know, I’ve always been locked away in my home.” There’s a groan from Geto at your side, a chuckle from Ieiri at the table.

Gojo chooses to ignore both of them. “It’s been so lonely… And I’ve never gotten to experience such peasant activities.” A sideways glance reveals that his head is downturned, a melancholic smile upon his face.

“It would be nice to have some memories…”

You can still sense the evident pompous nature in his words, yet you still freeze in expected guilt, nervous eyes hooked onto the same sentence you’ve been rereading since he entered the room. It looks like ruffles are a charm point this season…

A patter of socks against the wooden floor, and he’s towering above your sitting form, sunglasses pinned onto your ‘distracted’ self.

“You wouldn’t deny me the chance to have a normal highschool life, would you?” A pout in his words as you slowly start to lower the magazine.

Maybe it’s a good thing that he wants to involve himself in such activities…

——

“None of you have any sense at all~” Ieiri Shoko is absolutely glowering with pride, a flip of her short hair as she holds onto the stuffed whale that she had just won. A lovely blue, fluffy and mochi-like in texture, beady little eyes and a dopey smile. It was adorable.

A win of the century, as compared to the tiny windchime Geto held and the empty hands of Gojo.

“How did you even do that…?” Suguru is at a loss for words as his little consolation prize jingled lightly.

“Huh? You don’t get it?” Shoko’s smile grows ever wider. “It’s just like a fwoo, you have to let it go; then it just happens.” The look on her face was just too proud, the explanation just far too lousy.

Gojo Satoru’s head steams with confusion as Geto Suguru just scratches his head.

“Too bad then.” She’s humming as she approaches you with her grand prize. “(last name), here.”

Your eyes are widening slightly, squeezing the softness of it in your hug. It’s— freaking adorable.

“You’ll… Really give this to me?” Your face feels hot, embarrassment and gratitude flooding through your very veins.

“(last name).” A snap of fingers fail to snap you out of the staring trance you were in. Confused brown following your trail of sight to the large, fluffy mass that was the whale you couldn’t keep your eyes off of. A carnival prize?

“Oiiii.” She tries again, and there’s yet another failure, your eyes still blank. Looks like there’s only one solution. She turns around to face the arguing duo, cutting in their conversation.

“Anyone up for a challenge?”

“Thank you, Ieiri…!” You stare down at its beady little eyes. “I love it!” A cuddle into its face as you giggle.

The smile upon your face is worth it enough for her, a satisfied hum leaving her as she twirls her hair.

“Show-off.” Gojo crosses his arms as he pouts. He clearly could’ve won that too!

“If you’re so upset,” Shoko’s eyes gleam with mischief as they spot the haunted house attraction close by. “I have just the perfect thing.”

——

“Ieiri…?” You’re whispering into the still darkness as you take a step forward, arms crossed tight to your chest as you continue forward slowly. “Are you there…?”

(The haunted house required you to place everything you held into a locker for safekeeping.)

“See? There’s nothing to be afraid of—“ She’s cut off abruptly as a hand appears on her shoulder, pulling her into the darkness unnoticed as you turn the corner.

Now you’re all alone, wandering the creepy halls lined with lingering shadows and unsettling sounds that made you squeak in surprise. It wasn’t long before a jumpscare caused you to turn tail, backing up quickly only to hit something akin to a person, your screams echoing through the halls before a hand is placed over your mouth.

“Please calm down—“ The familiar calming voice of Geto Suguru is blown into your ears. “It’s just me.”

(Oh. You feel like smacking him for scaring you like that.)

——

You can barely make out the silhouette of him in this dreary dark, always trailing a little too far from him. “Ah— Here. Hold onto my arm.”

“Are you scared, (last name)?”

You nod, only to hear a laugh that makes you hot with embarrassment, your body immediately facing away from him with a self-conscious pout. “Sorry, sorry.” You hear him stifle his chuckle. “We quite literally deal with curses. It’s funny that you’re still afraid of such things.”

“I-It’s just the atmosphere…! I’ll be fine after we get—“

There’s a sudden crying wail of a child, one that causes you to jump in surprise, your classmate immediately standing in front of you protectively as he feels you tense up.

“Mama…! Mama, I’m sorry! I won’t run away from you anymore!” There’s a little boy sitting upon the ground, knees to his chest and crying. “Please save me…!”

“(last name),” His eyes turn to look down at you. “You can open your eyes now, it’s not a jumpscare.”

Geto was the first to realize.

Are the staffs not around? How could they miss him? You notice the ordinary civilian clothing he donned, out of place from the ‘deep sea terror’ theme of the haunted house.

He certainly was not an attraction.

——

“And your name?” The little boy was held in your arms as he continued to sniffle lightly, small hand gripping onto your shirt as you walked towards the exit.

“Junpei…” He blows his nose into Suguru’s handkerchief. “Yoshino…”

“Yoshino,” Your voice takes on a stern, yet all too gentle tone. “It’s bad to run from your mother. She could be so worried about you, you know?”

You feel him bury his face into your shoulder, a whimper coming from his already small voice.

“You have to apologise to her, okay?”

“Okay… I promise, big sister…”

Geto Suguru finds it funny how your fear disappeared the instant you had to help someone, how quickly you disregard everything else. You didn’t even notice that you were walking ahead of him, fear absolutely dissipated as you near the exit.

“You’re a good kid, Yoshino.” A grin on your face is just barely seen, a look of gentle fondness and happy eyes.

He thinks it’s kind of cute.

——

“Crepes.” He repeats the words back to you as you hold the strawberry cream flavoured one out to him.

“Yes, Gojo-san…”

(Geto was actually off puking his guts out after losing to Gojo in the parfait-coaster showdown. Just what kind of monster is this menace to be able to down 5 overly sweetened parfaits without a sweat? Especially after they had just rode the biggest rollercoaster available there 7 times in a row.

Ieiri just wanted a smoke break.)

So that left the both of you. Alone. Together.

“Um— G-Gojo-san, would you like—“ Your eyes are darting throughout the park. You really, really feel the awkwardness of being left alone with him without Ieiri or Geto here to subvert his attention towards them.

“Crepes?! I-I’ll pay!”

That’s 1300 Yen down the drain…

“So this is what I’ve seen in all those anime.” He’s close, poking at the treat and the shine of the glaze. “Commoner street food.”

“Ahaha— Ha… Yea.” You want to die, gulping nervously when you catch a glimpse of the wholly unimpressed gaze he gives you. The dessert is gingerly plucked from your hands, an almost bored gaze having trained their eyes on it, before they flicker back up to you.

He’s unnerving.

You’re twiddling with your fingers, eyes looking to the side as you feel sweat start to form from your nerves. Please, please…! Any god up there please make him stop scrutinizing you so much…!

“…it’s— Good!” His eyes are shimmering, cream on the corner of his lips as he takes another bite, and another, and another. There’s an entire crepe stuffed into his mouth before he knows it.

A jolly melody gallops into his ears, his eyes widened, sparkling with childish wonder.

“What? Whatcha staring for?”

“Your lips—“ You point to the corner of your own pair. “There’s something there…”

A pointed stare and following silence.

“Well? Get it for me?” It’s expectant, almost as if he was asking you what you were waiting for. Is this a byproduct of being waited on hand and foot? Nevertheless, your own handkerchief is produced from your pocket, leaning up to dab lightly at his chin.

It was meant to be a joke. He didn’t expect you to actually— Did you always smell so good? Your sudden close proximity shoots a tingle into his cheeks, hell, not even those maidservants got this close to him—!

“O-oi—“ Your eyes look up to stare at his, head tilted to the side and a pretty (colour) that he never really got to look at up close, his hand subconsciously holding onto your wrist as you began to pull away.

Did you always look so—

“Uhm… Did you want the handkerchief too…?”

A breeze flutters by your hair, the swaying in the wind causing a swirling in his heart. His eyes are slightly widened as they keep staring into your own, a pause in the atmosphere as his senses are all focused on you.

(He’s just been staring at you. You really want to run away now.)

“I-I’m sorry, you can have it too…” You release your wrist from his grip and place the cloth onto his palm, nervous stuttering and tripping of your words. “I think I heard Geto calling for help…”

And you ran. (You really liked that handkerchief…!)

Gojo Satoru realizes there’s quite a few things he doesn’t know about you, the fabric of your handkerchief soft against his palm the flutters of it much alike his heart.

——

“What are you listening to?” His voice is quiet, smooth on your ears that tingle slightly due to the proximity.

“Just… Something, I suppose.” Your whisper back to him is barely audible, trying to keep your conversation hushed as Shoko’s head nuzzled on your lap. If you’re being honest… You have no clue what you’re listening to, the old portable music player softly murmuring lyrics into your ears.

“I don’t think I know this song…”

The mere sight of seeing Gojo Satoru passed out upon Geto Suguru, your whale plushie hugged tight to his chest and his head lolling about the long-haired boy’s shoulder as drool seeped from the corner of his lip.

(You’d think that your usually gentle classmate would throw him off… But you’re pleasantly surprised he didn’t. It’s strangely… Relaxing right now.)

“…do you like it?” His soothing voice is refreshingly clear within the mumbling snores of your 2 other classmates.

“Mmm…” Your eyes close to focus on the sound just a little bit more. You don’t think you can really decide, or make an unbiased decision when your heart just feels so at ease.

A decisive hand removes the bud from the side closest to Geto, body shifting ever so slightly and nudging a fast asleep Ieiri that doesn’t stir. Your careful fingers gently prod his ear, a sheltered lull playing that begets an amused chuckle.

He could just imagine your face right now, proud, and anticipating silently for his reaction as he loses focus on the song.

It was on that day that Geto Suguru decided that you really were cute.

masterlist

Notes:

Shoko and Suguru only decided to go after you agreed to bring Satoru.

Gojo Satoru has been to amusement parks before. It’s just that whenever he went, the entirety of the park was booked, an army of bodyguards followed him to-and-fro in utmost silence and it was just… Lonely and unenjoyable.

Jujutsu High provides assistants that will drive students to their mission sites. Keyword; Mission sites. Hence Gojo’s request for private transportation was denied.

Gojo Satoru learned that taking the train isn’t as complicated as it seemed.

Geto got separated from Gojo in the haunted house, and he found you by following your screams.

nvy’s aftertalk:

guys i had so many rejected drafts for this i couldn’t decide which ones to put 😭😭

[cameronspecial]

Little Subway Things

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: N/A

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 0.7K

Summary: Rafe and Y/N like each other, but haven't defined their relationship and Rafe is ready to take the next step.

A/N: Inspired by something I saw on the subway once. It was cute.

Masterlist

So far, New York is everything Y/N expected it to be. The tall towering buildings give her a sense of claustrophobia not experienced in the open skyline of the Outer Banks. She smells new, often familiar with some sort of bodily expulsion, scents that remind her that she isn’t the first person to have explored this area of land. The people are exactly like she sees on the screen; always in a hurry to get somewhere unknown. Yet, despite this short experience not surprising her, she is still engrossed with the city. She and Rafe have been here for three days now and they’ve been to most of the sites already. The 9/11 memorial. Rockefeller Centre. The Empire State. The Brooklyn Bridge. The Statue of Liberty. Central Park. All the historical landmarks she’s wanted to see. They’ve been moving from place to place via the driver Rafe hired for their trip. Now, that they are slowing down in their activities, Y/N gets to experience something she’s never got to do in the Outer Banks. The island barely has a transit system, let alone a subway, so the girl is curious about the idea of travelling underground on a train. Rafe doesn’t understand her excitement, but this trip is all about her and he would do anything for her happiness. 

She bounces on her feet as Rafe pushes in the information on the kiosk’s screen. He slides his card in and quickly removes it when prompted. The screen displays a reminder to get the MetroCard. He holds out his hand in the direction of the card, telling her she can take it. Her hand snatches it and holds it against her chest. He smirks at his girlfriend with a shake of his head. His arm wraps around her shoulder to pull her into his side. They get to the turnstile and he takes the card from her hand. He tries swiping it, yet the machine seems to reject his attempt. She waits patiently in front of the bars for it to work. Eventually, she gets nervous from the stares of the city’s natives. “Baby, why don’t you let me try?” she suggests. Rafe could be considered the human embodiment of machoism, except all he wants is to get out of this public place. So he sighs and hands over the card to her. 

Her smile is small and it reassures him. She steps away from the gate, allowing Rafe to take her place. Once she slides the thin rectangle through the machine, the bar finally moves and lets him through. Y/N repeats the process, so she can join him. He intertwines their hands and navigates her to their platform. As they wait for the train, her back faces the track while she peers upward to talk to her boyfriend. Wanting to be out of here, his eyes dart to the screen that tells him how long until the next train. “So we are going to the pizza place now, and I was thinking maybe we can go to the all-romance bookstore?” she wonders. He looks down at her with an arched brow, “You don’t read tho, Cupcake.” “I know. The place looks aesthetic though and maybe romance books will get me into it,” she shrugs. “Okay, if that’s what you want.” Having been on the subway a few times before when he visited the city, he knows the signs that the train is coming. Y/N seems to be oblivious to the slight rumble of the floor and even though she is behind the yellow safety line, Rafe grows worried she isn’t far enough. The subway approaches fast and he instinctively reaches out to tug her into his chest. She bumps into him, turning in his arm to watch their transportation zoom by. His leathery-scented cologne fills her senses and she takes it in. He sighs at her content, gently shoving her onto the now-open train. 

They can’t find a seat once there so his hand rests on her waist while the other tightens around one of the poles above to keep them stable. She squeezes against him in the packed environment and looks up at him with adoration in her eyes. The little thing he does to keep her safe always melts her heart. “I love you, Baby,” she whispers. He grins down at her and presses his lips against her forehead, “I love you too, Cupcake.”

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming

[starssaroundmyscarssblog]

𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐏𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄… 𝐃𝐈𝐂𝐊?

pairing: 90s!liam gallagher x fem!oc

summary: in which the concept of a one night stand is lost to the fates of juniper willow

word count: 3.52k

warnings: drinking, vomit, allusions to sex, kissing, all the usual you would expect from a bender in the 90s, liam being an arrogant prick (we love him really) <3

one night stands usually worked well and functioned in natural order for juniper willow, and every other twenty-something in the country. get drunk, go home with someone who looked vaguely interesting in the club, wake up in the morning and face the awkward small talk. the system was clockwork and so was the aftermath, so why were the fates staring down at juniper willow trying so hard to knock her off balance?

she stumbled into the office with a hangover so bad she could hardly see straight, and security had to pull her aside when her id card didn't work at the turnstiles in the lobby. peter, the security guard, was laughing at her as he guided her to his small office. granted he did give her two paracetamol tablets, a flat bottle of half-drank coke and a paper cup filled with rich supermarket coffee, but he still laughed at her.

if moving didn't cause her stomach to turn itself inside out, she would have slugged him in the ribs.

the tinted sunglasses juniper shielded her eyes away with from the rest of the office did nothing to help her, and tony from accounts whistled at her as she slumped into the chair tucked into her small cubicle. the entire floor was split up into small boxes sprawling about, sometimes the occasional head would peek out and ask if anyone wanted a coffee, or if there was a stapler going spare.

"fuck off tone," she bit back, trying to cross one knee over the other but couldn't when she felt the recurring dull ache between her legs. "bit snappy, someone got lucky last night."

he nudged simon and ellie, a couple always in their own small world that gave hr a headache, on his way out. before she could stop herself, juniper yelled, "bite me!" and regretted it as soon as the last syllable left her mouth. the fizzing of the coke bottle irked her beyond belief, as did the clacking of fingers on keyboards all around her.

god knows what she was going to be like in the brightly lit room with a camera shutter going off constantly when the next band who were getting featured on the cover came in for photos.

juniper reached into her bag to pull out her planner, peeling the pages away from one another to reveal the date. in the middle of the page she'd written a simple word, 'oasis', in large capital letters with four think lines drawn below for emphasis. just below was the time they were coming in, 12:00, in three hours.

three hours to get over a hangover so bad she couldn't think straight. most of the time juniper hated half of the people in the office with a vengeance, but slowly they were redeeming themselves by falling silent when walking past her desk, or offering her cups of coffee with silent sympathetic smiles. normally she liked tea, but she could get over it.

at eleven o'clock, she started reviewing some of the concept art that had been left on her desk. oasis were coming in for a short shoot without the bells and whistles - it was the only condition under which they'd agreed to actually be on the cover of nme in the first place. the brothers were coming in at twelve, the rest of the band at one, and then they were going off for their interview downstairs at two.

a phone call came through to her from the wardrobe department to clarify that all she would need were some jackets and sun glasses, and they added a runner into the mix to ensure that the information reached the right people by the right time.

by the time half past had rolled around, juniper was beginning to feel better. she could walk in a straight line and didn't vomit each time she went to the loo. tony had also come by the apologise and declared peace by sliding over a warm slice of cake from the bakery by the school over the road. juniper was scraping the thick layer of chocolate icing off with her finger and licking it off as memories of the night before slowly pieced themself together in her mind.

someone from marketing had asked her through a friend of a friend if she wanted to go out, and usually juniper had a rule against going on benders during the week. however, the chance to go to the velvet rooms wasn't one to be passed up. juniper remembered getting out of a cab with a girl she vaguely knew, shivering in the cold from her skimpy skirt and glittery stilettos and warming herself up with a shot given to her "on the house" from the bartender.

ten minutes before the gallagher brothers were meant to be arriving, juniper had started to regret filling up her stomach with icing and felt the bright blue fishbowl full of alcohol she'd drunk the previous night sloshing around in her stomach. ellie had tried to talk to her about the composition plans she'd submitted for final review, but held them tight to her chest as juniper blazed right through the middle of the office and barged through the door to the staff loos with a harsh shove of her elbow.

juniper had made it into a cubicle just in time before she retched and a blue liquid came splattering into the toilet bowl. she slumped down against the cubicle door and held her head in her hands. the door creaked as ellie's soft hands rapped against the cubicle quietly, "june, are you alright?" she asked tentatively.

"peachy," she croaked back, lunging towards the toilet again as she felt another bout of bile rise. "not so peachy." ellie's heart softened. it wasn't very often juniper came back from a night out and was feeling the repercussions of it the next day. slowly, juniper stretched her legs and rose to a stand, sliding the lock and leaving the cubicle after flushing. she caught sight of ellie's watch, she only had five minutes until she had to be down in the lobby.

fucking mancunian cunts.

thankfully, ellie had supplied her with a plastic cup of water and some mints. she fluffed up her hair and slid the sunglasses down her nose again, surveying her pale, forlorn reflection in the harsh yellow light. juniper pinched sharply at her cheeks to inject rosiness and life, re-applied her lipgloss and failed to stare back at herself confidently.

the guy she'd taken home last night had been from manchester, thick proper thick accent and everything. he was cocky, too, and juniper wasn't sure if it was a northerner thing or not.

ellie gently pushed the small folder of composition sketches to her as they left the bathroom, and gave her shoulder a small reassuring squeeze before departing back to her desk. the phone rang as juniper walked past her own, wrapping two slender fingers around it to answer, "hello, this is juniper speaking?"

"hi june," clare, the receptionist, was talking back at her, "the gallaghers are here, shall i send them up or are you coming down?" sending them up would save juniper from having to brave the lift again, but greeting them in the lobby and taking them to the studio herself would give a much better impression.

she sighed heavily, "i'll come down, let them know i'll be five minutes if they wouldn't mind the wait. they can help themselves to tea if they want as well."

with shaky steps, she pushed the button for the lobby on the pannel for the lift, when the middle one slid open juniper felt like she was walking to her death. she resisted the urge to curl up into a ball in the corner and instead stood up straight, fluffing her hair up once more as she walked as confidently as she could into the lobby. with a folder tucked under her arm and her yellow tinted sunglasses pushed right up to her eyes, she locked onto two men stood in the corner by a coffee machine.

both wearing sunglasses, but whether it was by choice or they were covering up a hangover like her, she didn't know. an instinct in her was leaning towards the latter in hopes of making herself feel better.

"noel and liam gallagher, i assume?" juniper spoke as she neared them, holding her hand out. noel looked at her first, smiled tightly, and shook her hand. "yeah, that's us."

"great. i'm juniper, it's lovely to meet you both. are you ready to come upstairs so we can get this over with? i've heard neither or you are fans of this kind of thing." at this, noel's smile increased slightly. he made to follow her and thumped his brother on the back of the head to get him to join.

liam cursed his brother under his breath as he turned away from the coffee machine and dragged himself into the elevator where he nursed his head in the region noel had made sharp contact. it did nothing to help his hangover, and as he held his hand out for the nme photographer to shake he hoped she would let him keep his sunglasses on.

he nearly laughed out loud when he looked at the reflection of the three of them in the mirrored doors of the elevator. what a sight they looked in their sunglasses in crippling sates of hangover recovery. liam was about to make a snark remark that would have surely granted him another whack on the back of his head when he stopped shortly in his tracks.

the photographer looked familiar, so familiar is was scary. he'd recognise the raggedy ends of her blowout falling limp and losing shape over her shoulders from when he'd seen it splayed over a pillow as she moaned beneath him the night before, and her orange painted nails that dragged over his shoulders and neck in a darkened corner of a club toilet.

he couldn't remember her name, something like juno or julia he thought, but liam knew it was her. she had the same aura about her that he couldn't have forgotten even after stumbling back out through her front door some time around four in the morning. leaving before she'd woken up had been a bit of a dick move even he had to admit, but he was about to be part of the best band in the fucking world!

he had to live up to rock and roll standards somehow, didn't he?

part of him felt bad, but another thought it was for the best he hadn't been there that morning. the situation would have been awful, leaving and then arriving in the same place a few hours later. perhaps he should say something? only in necessary, he concluded, safe in the comfort that at least she hadn't recognised him.

juniper's head was pounding dully as she walked the gallaghers into a studio, bright white lights stabbing through the flimsy protection offered by her glasses. ellie was fiddling with a camera in the corner, and made room for juniper to lay out the concept sketches and composition proposals on the table. "ellie, this is noel and liam." she introduced, though the brothers hardly needed it. they were on the verge of being the best band in the country. "she's here to make sure we run to schedule and to get you and the rest of the band - when they arrive - to your interview on time." she spoke as ellie shook their hands and returned to her camera.

"is there anything you'd like to ask before we start? there's a few jackets we've taken from the wardrobe department if you'd like to change."

without looking up, nimble fingers darting over the buttons as she set the camera onto a tripod in the middle of the room, ellie added, "there's shirts and sun glasses if you'd like those, too." shoved against a corner of the room was a clothes rack full of stone island, fred perry and adidas. noel beelined to a blue denim jacket with a fur trim around the neck then a vintage manchester city football shirt, while his brother hung behind.

juniper was going to introduce herself as she realised she hadn't gotten a chance in the lobby, but stopped short when she saw him look up at her from the paper cup of cheap filter coffee. she hadn't just slept with any mancunian the night before, she'd only gone and slept with liam fucking gallagher.

at first she thought her mind was playing a trick on her, but on closer inspection she concluded that she hadn't. along his neck were one or two hickeys, as well as stains from her lipstick that hadn't washed away after vigorous scrubbing under the shower. his jaw was the same as well, the same one she'd ran her finger along and pulled to face her as she sat on his lap after too many shots.

if having a hangover while photographing up-and-coming music legends was bad enough, having to do it all for her one night stand was much worse. and she could hardly talk to him about it either, because ellie was keeping her to a tight schedule. thus with a sigh and a heavy lump starting to form in her throat, juniper pulled her camera towards her and began to position the brothers in various positions.

the shutter flickered for just under an hour with little to no conversation, the silence only punctuated by juniper asking liam to move a few inches to the left or to get noel to move his head back more because it looked better under the lighting that way. she changed the film three times, got them to change jackets and shirts twice and took another dose of pain killers. eventually, ellie called time. "i'll go downstairs and get the rest of the band, they should be arriving any minute now. take five minutes if you need it, be back here by five past."

a bell rang somewhere in the distance, but juniper thought it came from the secondary school over the road. stupid place to put a music magazine office really, next to a school full of kids clued up about music and pop culture when there were bands and rock stars walking in and out of the building like a revolving door. sometimes they would try and get in through the lobby, or the delivery entrance if they were trying to be clever.

excusing herself and walking down the corridor, juniper looked out a window off a short turning and watched a sea of children clad in navy blazers flood out onto the playing fields where they shouted or played football, gossiped in small circles or watched fights unfold with anticipation.

there was a sharp tap on her shoulder and through the reflection, juniper could see who it was. with a heavy sigh and a pray to a god she didn't believe him to not fuck up the interaction, juniper turned around. "listen, juno-"

immediately, she cut him off. "juniper."

"what?" liam questioned, reeling after he was sure he got her name right after debating it over and over in his head. "it's juniper. my name, but june's fine."

"oh. righ'. well, june, then . . . listen. i was goin' to say summat but i don' really remember." there was something in his head yelling at him to stop acting like a cunt, but he couldn't help it. since he'd seen june in the club the previous night, there was something about her he didn't want to let go. kissing seemed like something he wanted to do to her, but was probably a bad course of action especially if she didn't remember their encounter.

a yell in juniper's head clicked her voice into action and she spoke at the same time as him, "listen, about last night-" they both stopped to look at each other. they clearly both remembered at least one small detail from the night before, mainly who it was they'd slept with. juniper could feel the throbbing returning in full force to the front of her head, and decided to let liam speak first.

"no, you go."

"righ'. well i just wanted to say i try not to sleep with people i end up working with but sometimes it just happens and when the bird is fit, and i mean mega fit, it just sorta happens." there was a level of tiredness and, surprisingly, bewilderment about her stare up at him. perhaps it was his outspoken way, it could have been that he'd tracked her down the corridor to speak to her, but most likely it was the fact he'd even chosen to acknowledge it in the first place.

juniper couldn't believe what she was hearing. liam gallagher, blabber mouth of the century who couldn't even begin to fathom the meaning of the word 'modest', was apologising for sleeping with her. it was nice, don't get her wrong, but there was something in his words that sounded like regret and she didn't like it. not one bit.

after three minutes of endless waffle and the sound of ellie walking across the hall further down with the rest of the band trailing behind her, juniper held up her hand. "thanks, really. i appreciate you telling me you try to keep your sex life away from your work and i'm assuming you don't want people to think of you as a wet wipe, but seriously. hardly any of the men i've slept with have had the decency to bring it up if i've seen them again. and believe me, in this building it happens more than you would think-"

the movement of her shoulders being forced back into the wall behind her as liam gained in distance closer to her face startled juniper into realising he was kissing her with as much force behind it as she was throughout the night. frozen into place as liam moved his hands around as much as he wished, juniper slowly twisted around to push him as far as she could down the small part of the alcove that remained behind them. then she brought her hands up to his chest, and begrudgingly pushed herself away.

juniper looked up at him through her lashes and the lenses of her sunglasses as she fiddled coyly with the button of his jacket placed just under his chin, suddenly brimming with confidence she hoped wouldn't fail. she could see the hickeies she'd marked him with and knew it wouldn't.

liam looked down at her over the bridge of his nose smugly, grin increasing as she questioned, "what was that for?"

"couldn' think of another way to shut you up. i mean you're proper fit, don' get me wrong, but you blab enough for half of the country." juniper appeared disheartened but tried to hide it behind her furrowed brows. "is that it?" she wondered aloud.

"nah. been thinking about doin' that for a while now actually."

ellie's voice called from somewhere in the nearby distance, asking if she ("junie") had gone to the loo and if she had had she seen liam wondering about. if she had, could she please bring him back to the studio now because his brother was getting "testy".

"cunt's always gettin' testy, been testy since he came out of the fucking womb." juniper had to bite down on her bottom lip to stop herself from laughing and giving the pair way. "she'll get testy if we don't hurry up." slowly, juniper peeled away from liam's hold and began to saunter away from him.

she could feel him eyes burning holes on her back where her checked skirt met the low hem of her brown leather jacket, and called over her shoulder lowly, "if you'd started by saying you'd wanted to kiss me, i would have invited you out for a drink tonight if you weren't busy."

liam rubbed his eyes and pushed them back into his head. "i'm not busy."

"are you sure? i would've thought rock and roll stars didn't have time for that sort of thing."

"i'll make time," he rushed out, stumbling over his words at the pace they were leaving his mouth. "lots of time, all the time in the world if you want it."

"i'll think about it, would that make you feel better?"

she hadn't acted like this before, only when she'd had too much to drink and had been running the heel of her shoe up his leg throughout the night at the club, and again liam felt himself being dragged in to wanting more. the pull she had on him was too much to bear. "please, junie?" it was something foreign on his tongue, begging, to get a woman to go out with him.

juniper's eyes lit up before she pushed open the door to the studio, and suddenly her hangover wasn't feeling as brutal as it had been. "well if you insist, mr gallagher, i suppose i'll have to give you the offer won't i?"

🪩⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊🎤

[tripodturnstile]

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[szrssecurityswingturnstile]

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[rosewine-5]

Eyes Never Lie: Part III

gif made by kvtnisseverdeen

summary: Being friends with Coriolanus for a long time lets you what drives him to succeed and survive. You've also gained the insight to guess how he's feeling or what he's about to say just by the expression on his face. But only things that you could never decipher were the thoughts behind his eyes.

A.N: Part 3 is here! Sorry it’s late

word count: 4.3K

divider made by firefly-graphics

You didn’t know how you got in front of the arena, but here you were, being led to the place where all of these innocent kids would die. You then froze, and Coriolanus’ turned and looked at you. “don’t want you to be alone right now.” He added, holding your hand tighter. “Please.” He whispered, letting you know he didn’t want to be alone too. You nodded and squeezed his hand as he walked you toward the arena once more.

Before you realized it you were standing behind Lucy Gray and were ushered to walk forward. The darkness of the tunnel made it a bit hard to see, but the red lights made it easier. Walking forward, the turnstile turned and a voice said “Enjoy the show!” Definitely not creepy. Now beside Lucy, you felt her hand slip into yours, and you welcomed it.

As you walked further in, the hold on your hand got tighter, and you looked at her. She was holding onto your hand for dear life, Lucy was terrified. Suddenly, a noise made you look up and see the arena opening up the top window panels, letting the light in. It was eerie, somewhat amusing, and haunting at the same time. But the decor couldn’t dispel you from an ugly truth: 23 kids are coming into this arena, but only 1 is coming out tomorrow.

“Welcome to the arena for the 10th annual Hunger Games!” A voice cut through the arena. “Tributes, mentors, you have 15 minutes to survey the space and discuss strategy.” You let go of Lucy’s hand and rubbed your hands together. You saw her face contort into one of worry as her eyes darted to you. “Please,” Lucy whispered. “Coriolanus, please don’t let me die in here tomorrow.”

Before any of you could answer, an explosion cut your train of thought off as you were thrown to the ground. You covered your nose as you watched the arena get blown to hell and back. You, Lucy, and Coriolanus stood for a moment as the debris started to fall to the ground, a scream finally leaving your mouth as you ran away, Lucy in front of you and Coriolanus behind you. While you were running, though looked back for Coriolanus and felt a piece of the arena slide across your face, making you fall.

You felt Lucy’s hand turn you towards her, “Where’s Coriolanus?” She asked, making your blood freeze. That was when a familiar voice yelled out, “Help me!” You immediately knew it was Coriolanus. Following the sound of his voice, you soon found him under a piece of debris. You immediately tried to lift it but had trouble. You saw the fire on his back, and it almost sent you into a panic. “Lucy! Help me, please!” You begged, looking into the smoke where you think you saw her last.

She soon ran towards you and joined in the attempt of trying to get it off of him. You were so focused on lifting the beam you almost missed a tribute trying to convince Lucy to run out of the arena with her. “He wouldn’t save you.” You heard Marcus, Senjanus’ tribute say, before running to the blown open doors. But your eyes didn’t leave the beam, and to your suprise, Lucy never stopped to run.

You both lifted it just enough so he could slip away from it. You turned to Lucy, saying a quick thank you before she www dragged away. In that moment, you finally noticed your hands were singing, and saw the beam had burned your hands. But that wasn’t it, your head was also singing a symphony. In fact, the world was spinning.

The next thing you knew, you were falling to the ground, and the next, you were in a hospital bed. Your mother sprung up and hugged you, “Honey! Oh, thank god.” She sighed, holding onto you. “What happened?” You immediately asked. “The rebels bombed the arena. One of those animals from the districts escaped.” Your father said, holding onto you tight. “Coriolanus? Sejanus?” You asked, sitting up, tears starting to well up. “They’re fine, Coriolanus came in right before you did, Sejanus is fine.” Your mother said, and a breath of relief left your lips.

“You, on the other hand, will have a scar on your forehead as well as sore hands.” Your dad said, handing you a mirror. There was a long red scar starting at your left forehead, going across your eyebrow and nose, and ending in the middle of your right cheek. It was ugly, but nothing makeup couldn’t smooth out.

You then reached for your, neck and felt nothing. “My…..my necklace.” You said in a soft tone. “I’m sorry honey. We can get you another one.” Your father soothed, but you shook your head, the sentimental value now gone up in smoke. “Should I be good to go?” You asked, standing up, and finally getting a good look at yourself. You still had your uniform on, riddled now with dust and smoke, as well as your face. Other than the scar now on your face, you looked okay, as well as an exhausted Capitol child who’s survived a rebel bombing and the loss of two friends in one week can be.

You then walked past the rest of the beds, and one sight made you get chills. You saw the president’s son, Felix, your classmate, on a ventilator, scars all over his face. You let out a surprised shout before a nurse turned towards you and shut the curtain, closing off any view from him. Then started to walk out of the hospital and passed a TV.

Turns out they were still going on with the games. Lucky Flickerman was enticing the crowds once more as they were bringing out the tributes to give them one final spotting before they had to die. That was when you got an idea. You walked with a purpose past the beds, but slowed down when you saw a familiar blonde boy asleep in a bed. Coriolanus was okay, he was alive. You forced yourself to run with sore muscles to your house, and go to the back of your closet. You recalled when Lucy said she could “play the strings,” today would be her chance to prove it.

You finally found your guitar, still in its white case, and brought it out. After giving it an experimental strum, you walked towards the last showing of the tributes, and tried to sneak past a peacekeeper.

Unfortunately, you weren’t the best at it. “Hey! What are you doing back here?” One shouted. “I’m here to do one last observation for Dr. Gaul.” You said in your best calm voice, almost scaring yourself from how much you sounded like someone else. You stared back at them when one looked at the other, “Stay right there.” He said and walked out of the room. The minutes going by made you shift from foot to foot until he came back, “Go right in, we’ll be outside.” He said, letting you pass.

Slowly, you walked to the back of the stage and saw Lucy picking at her dress. “Lucy.” You whispered, getting her attention. She immediately ran towards you and before the both of you knew it, you were hugging. She looked at you, her head going to the scar on your face, “Your head.” “I’ll be fine, but I need a favor.” You said, holding the guitar out to her. “I know you said you won’t sing unless you have something to say, I get it. But this is your last chance before the games.” You said, a more serious tone in your voice.

“One last song to put your memory in the minds of everyone who has and will know your name.” You said, watching as she took the guitar and gave it a strum. “You had this? She asked, to which you nodded. You saw her nod towards you, a look of thankfulness before she walked out. You let out a sigh as you watched from a screen as she sang her song, letting her story be told for everyone to hear, making you smile. For someone who just got to the Capitol, she sure learned how to make a lasting impression, one that wouldn’t be forgotten for decades you would say.

As Lucy finished her song, she walked back towards you and tried to speak, but you silenced her. “You did amazing,” you said, taking your guitar back. You then took her hand and held it tightly. “I know you’re not my tribute, Lucy Gray, but I hope you win.” You said, before giving her one last hug before walking home. You laid in bed that night hoping for her survival. That morning you dressed and could barely eat, thinking about the games. As you left, you passed a mirror and got a glimpse of your face. Even though you put concealer over the scar, it was still red.

As you walked to the academy, you ran into Dean Highbottom. “Ah, ms capitol flower, what are you doing up here?” He asked. You then turned to him, “Just wishing my friends good luck.” You answered. For a moment, he didn’t answer, obviously looking at the scar on your face. “I’d only wish one of your friends luck, little miss.” Dean Highbottom said and turned away from you. As you looked for Coriolanus and Sejanus, Sejanus found you first.

“Hey. I didn’t see you at the hospital.” He said, looking at your face and not your eyes. “I left, they had already treated me.” You said. He then held your hand and squeezed it. “Are you okay?” He asked. “I’ll be fine.” You said, knowing what he was implying. Sejanus’ focus then shifted to someone behind you. “Corio.” Senjanus said, walking up to him. “How are you doing? You all right?” He asked, to which Coriolanus shrugged off.

He then turned to you, his eyes widening at the sight of the scar. Before he could speak, a man got the attention of the 3 of you, and signaled he wanted a picture. Sejanus put his arm across you to put his hand on Coriolanus’ shoulder as you felt his hand go to your hip, the same mannerism he used in the zoo. You put your arm around Sejanus’ back & Coriolanus’, and gave a small smile.

The man snapped the camera, immortalizing the moment in the photo. Sejanus walked off and Coriolanus suddenly held you still, looking at the scar closely. “Are you okay?” he asked, looking at you, his eyes, for once you could see how he was feeling: concerned. “I’m fine. It just stings.” you said, rubbing small circles on his hand. “Before I forget, here.” He said, holding up your necklace, the one you thought you would never see again. “How did you get it?” You asked, staring at the pendant dangling in front of you.

“I owed you and Lucy Gray a favor, this is yours.” He said, walking behind you and putting it back around your neck. You turned towards him, only to see him staring at you from over your shoulder. You two were so close to each other, you could feel the faint blow of his breath on your nose. Nervous, you broke the silence. “I hope you win, Corio.” you whispered, but he only looked at you in silence. “When I woke up in the hospital, no one had seen you, not even Sejanus. I thought you were dead.” he said, his voice breaking at the end.

“You haven't lost me, Cori, and you never will.” you said, putting your forehead to his, and kissing it. He then took your hand and kissed it, before smiling. “Happy Hunger Games.” he whispered. “And good luck to you.” you replied before walking out of the room and towards Gaul’s lab. As soon as she laid her eyes on you, that same sinister grin “Let me see you, my flower of death.” Squaring your shoulders, you approached Dr. Gaul, and her hand held your chin still. She chuckled, her eyes going over the length of your scar, before her other hand held one side of your face.

“Hmmm. This rosebud is tougher than I thought.” she then turned and went to her lab. “Come child, I have much to teach you today. For the whole day, you shadowed Dr. Gaul in her lab, learning her methods of creating her “babies” for the games, how to tame them, and how to make them vicious. During one moment, she looked at you as she handed you a snake, letting it get used to your scent. “One reason I chose the colors is to make an illusion. The colors are to make them enticing, the beauty masking their true nature, their deadly nature.” Dr. Gaul said, looking you dead in the eyes.

“Before you know it, you're too busy looking at the beauty of the colors to see you're about to be bitten with their poison, doomed to drown in the beautiful sea of death.” The snake was now circling your neck, before resting still, allowing you to let out a breath you didn't know you were holding. “Let me guess, I'm the fool drowning in the sea?” you asked. She only smirked in response, “Not yet, I'm still deciding if you're the snake not yet radicalized or the flower not yet fertilized with the malicious poison.”

“And how would the flower be poisoned, who does it?” You asked, wondering what her riddle meant. “That is a question that doesn't have an answer.” she said, chuckling as she took the snake from your neck. After a long day, you began to walk home just as a car pulled up in front of you. You began to reach up for your necklace to wrap around your knuckles just as a woman stepped out, looking frantic. You realized it was Senjanus’ mother. “Mrs, Plinth, what's wrong?” you asked. “Honey, have you seen Sejanus?” she asked, walking towards you.

“No. I haven't seen him since the games started. Did something happen?” you asked. “They captured Marcus and put him up in the arena before a tribute mercy killed him.” she said in a sorrowful tone. “One of the tributes mercy killed him, but he was home for one minute and the next he was gone.” she said, slowing her speech down to calm herself some. That was when something dawned on you, and the idea made your stomach do flips. “I'll help look for him.” you said and squeezed her hand.

“Thank you, dearie,” she said and walked back to the car. As you watched her go back, you noticed Mr. Plinth give you a nod before he joined his wife in the car. You, on the other hand, walked toward the arena and convinced yourself to not turn around with every step. You made a quick stop at Dr. Gaul’s lab, noticing she was already walking out. You both froze, looking into each other's eyes. “I take it you found out where your friend is.” She said, you nodding in response. “Go ahead, I'll send someone to go with you in a minute.” she said, and walked away from you.

“When you finally got to the gate, the peacekeepers eyed you, “Let me in, his mother is worried sick.” you said, looking between the two. It didn't take long for them to open the gates and let you in, as well as locking you in. You slowed your breath as you began to walk into the arena, missing the turnstile to avoid the sound going off. You looked around, making sure to keep your steps as quiet as possible so you could get to Sejanus. As you passed a pile of debris, you saw a bow and some arrows and decided to take one of them in case needed it. When you got close enough, his head whipped towards you and relaxed.

He didn't say anything, but he looked back toward Marcus’ body and you kneeled beside him. Against your better judgment, you helped him grieve for a moment, one of his hands finding yours, and you let your head rest on his shoulder. “Thank you.” he said, you only hummed in response. That was when you felt someone walking towards the two of you, raising the arrow in front of you, only to see it pointing at an equally nervous Coriolanus.

“I thought they'd send my ma.” Sejanus said. “I wish they had.” you said, looking back at him. “You need to go, Corio. Both of you.” Sejanus said, standing up. “I'd like to. I really would. But I promised I'd get you out.” Coriolanus whispered. So he was the backup Gaul sent? “Why?” Sej asked. “Because you're our friend.” You added, looking him in the eyes. “I have to do this. I had to go where the cameras are.” He argued. “You think anyone's watching this,” Coriolanus asked, “Gaul cut the feed. Tributes kill you in here, she's just gonna say you died of the flu.”

You then looked at the beam above you 3 and saw a tribute wake up and grab her weapon. You tightened your fist around the arrow as Corio started to pull you closer to his side. “You need to decide right now. Do you wanna fight these tributes, or fight for them?” Coriolanus asked Sejanus, “Because if you wanna make real change, you need to stay alive to do it.” “How can I make any change from out there?” Sejanus asked.

“You're rich, you have your father’s money. You're smart, you care,” you said, looking between Sejanus and the female tribute looking at you three, “You're the only one who stood up to Gaul in that class, not us.” That moment you heard a clatter from somewhere in the arena, putting all of you on edge. You could see Sejanus was starting to get antsy. “We're dead if we don't leave right now.” You whispered to Sejanus. “Come with us. Spend your father's money, and do some real good. Or just be another dead body in Gaul's war.” Coriolanus whispered, getting close to his ear.

“Please, Sejanus, trust us.” You begged, wanting him to leave with the two of you. That was when you heard a scream from the end of the arena, and saw a male tribute charging towards you. “Let's go!” you yelled and ran for the gate. Even though you were running as fast as you could, they both were faster than you. You saw Coriolanus’ hand reach for yours, and he helped you keep up with him. You were able to jump over the turnstile, Sejanus couldn't and you heard a bone in him snap. You ran over to help him up just as the tribute lashed at the three of you.

You were able to miss his first swing, but when he swung his blade low, he cut your leg, making you scream. By instinct, you swung at his leg with the arrow and surprisingly managed to get a cut on his leg before Corio bashed the boy with a piece of debris. Before you could get out the way you felt the boy's blade cut a long line up your back, dragging another scream out of your mouth.

For a moment your vision blurred, hitting the wall as Coriolanus pleaded with the tribute. It didn't work. You heard Coriolanus scream and then proceed to hit the boy with the beam before hitting him in the head, making him fall through the turnstile. You had just gone over to help Sejanus up with you saw Coriolanus hit the boy one more time, and he no longer moved. You and Sejnaus stared at the sight, the horrible display of the dead tribute making you sick. Your best friend just killed someone, and he didn’t need to.

You then heard a group of tributes start to run towards you. “Get up, Sejanus!” You yelled, hoisting him up with one arm and running towards the gate. “Open the gate!” Coriolanus yelled. You ran through the gate and let out a small sigh of relief when it slammed shut, stopping the tributes from coming through. That was when one female tribute, Coral, looked at you briefly before looking directly at Coriolanus. “Watch those screens, gorgeous. ‘Cause I may have missed you tonight, but your songbird’s next on my list.” She smirked before walking away from the gate. You let out a breath and. As you stood up, you then leaned on the gate, and a wave of pain went down your back to the cut on your leg.

Holding yourself up, you let out a whimper as you saw the blood going down your leg. You could also see the gash on Coriolanus back when Sejanus spoke up, apologizing, “I’m… I’m sorry, both of you, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry, for all of it.” He looked up at both of you. Behind him, you saw Sejanus’ parents drive up. “My father. Let the buying begin.” He said, and slowly stood up and walked towards his mother. You had just managed to stand up straight again when you and Coriolanus caught the eyes of his father, giving you a silent but grateful nod.

You and Coriolanus were led away and back to Dr. Gaul’s lab. “Snow and his rose stormed down, down on their heads. It stormed down on their heads, and now the boy is...” She stopped and made a noise, imitating the sound of a knife slashing. “Dead.” You whispered to yourself while she chuckled. You two have had enough of the Games tonight, I see,” she said, “Come, sit, I'll stitch you up.”

Coriolanus tried to usher you forward, but you sat down in another seat, “You saved us, you first.” He didn’t argue further. As he sat down, you grabbed a stool and sat beside him. “Who could imagine Crassus Snow's baby boy fighting for his life in the arena one day? What happened in there, that's humanity undressed,” Dr. Gaul let out a sigh before continuing, “Fueled with the terror of becoming prey, see how quickly we become predator. See how quickly civilization disappears?”

“Those tributes didn’t have a choice.” Coriolanus said, finally finding his voice. “I was talking about the two of you.” She said, your eyes finding his stare. “All your fine manners, education, background, stripped away in the blink of an eye, leaving a boy with a club who beats another boy to death to stay alive.” Dr Gaul said, before looking up at you, “And a girl who takes up an arrow and draws blood out of desperation to keep her life.” “You wanna protect people, Mr. Snow? To govern them like your father?

Then it’s essential you accept what human beings are and what it takes to control them.” She then patted his back, signaling him to move.

He squeezed your hand before he slowly walked out of the lab, leaving you alone with your mentor. For a while she stitched up your back, she didn’t say a single word, and neither did you. When she turned you around to sew up your leg, that changed. “So, Snow’s rose is growing her thorns,” She chuckled, “The daughter of the Capitol goes into the arena, who would’ve thought?” “I didn’t intend to humor you tonight, I went in to get my friend.” You replied. Dr. Gaul raised an eyebrow in response, “Be cautious of your loyalty and friendship, young girl.” “They would do the same for me.” You said, looking at her. “Oh I’m sure they would, that’s why you all could’ve died tonight.” Dr Gaul chuckled.

“It’s like I said earlier. Friendship like the one you have with Snow and Plinth can help you thrive as easy as it can be to die following your friend and lover into danger.” Your mouth fell open, but she raised her hand in response. “For a child so wise, you’re very blind to see the eyes of affection that boy has for you?” Dr. Gaul teased. “How are you sure?” You asked, curiously getting the best of you. Dr. Gaul chuckled, “Do you want me to point out the fact he calls you Calanthe, which translates to beautiful flower?”

As she finished the stitch on your leg, she smirked. “Love is a funny thing, pupil. It can be your greatest strength, weapon, or weakness.” “I don’t have a crush on-.” “Don’t lie!” Dr. Gaul shouted at you, making you shut up immediately. “If you don’t love that boy why did you protect him with that arrow in your hand?” She asked, holding your arm up, showing you the arrow still in your clenched hand.

You forgot you still had it.

Dr. Gaul looked at the arrow and then at you, helping you stand up, the stitch now complete. “You’re a strange one, little flower,” Dr. Gaul said, “You don’t see your strengths.” You then looked up at her, “And what do you see?” You asked, grabbing your blazer, and getting ready to leave. As you turned to leave, her chuckle made you freeze and turn around, “I still see what I saw the first time we talked my dear: potential.”

[szrssecurity]

Swing Gate Turnstile is typically called a slap door in the rail transit market. Its barrier body (gate pendulum) remains in the type of an aircraft with a certain area, perpendicular to the ground, and swings through rotation Implement blocking and release. The products of the blocking body are frequently stainless steel, organic glass, and tempered glass. Some also utilize metal plates covered with special versatile products (to reduce the damage brought on by hitting pedestrians). Bridge Smart Swing Barrier Turnstile The more popular name has been inherited from the initial bridge-shaped structure. It includes a main chassis and 2 movable swing bars. The swing bars can swing 180 ° or 90 ° to accomplish the function of discouraging or releasing. Column Swing Turnstile The look of the primary devices is in the form of a column, which can carry out the very same functions as the bridge type Swing Barrier Turnstile. It is characterized by lower expense and less space. RS Security Co., Ltd Main Products: door, flap gate, full height gate, swing gate, hydraulic bollard, road blocker, access control, face acknowledgment, barrier gate and so on. Application of Swing Turnstile It is generally used for passage entryway and exit management. Normally, just people are allowed to go through, or people dragging baggage, and disabled individuals. Considering that Swing Barrier Gate can attain broader channel attributes than wing gates. The majority of Swing Door Gate passages can be blended with pedestrians, bicycles, mopeds, handicapped automobiles and other non-motorized cars. part Swing Door Gate structural composition: Swing Gate Turnstile includes chassis, motion, swing arm, control system, infrared sensing unit, It consists of control devices and other parts. High-end brake Swing Door Turnstile consists of: chassis, brake movement, control system, infrared sensor, control equipment and other parts (high-end brake Swing Turnstile is that it can stop quickly and smoothly, there is no shaking, no mechanical stuck structure, and the swing arm immediately opens after power failure. It totally complies with fire defense requirements).

[ruh--roh-raggy]

Heart of Wires (Sundrop/Moondrop x DCA!OC Piper)

Hello hello! Welcome to something new and different from me!!! This is my first time writing Sundrop, this is also my first time making an OC! It is with my greatest pleasure that I introduce you to Piper Belle Healy! This whole fic is going to be slow burn, super tooth rottingly sweet fluff. I'm just enamored by these big Bois, I wanna hold their hands and kiss them on the cheek. SO THATS WHAT IM GUNNA DO!! I hope you enjoy! Please let me know if you'd like to be added to the tag list!

WARNINGS: None

You can find my Masterlist here!

Word Count: 3,985

Part 2

“Good morning!” The chipper blond welcomed her with a gapped tooth smile as she sang her greeting. “Piper, right?” The red head nodded in confirmation. “Perfect. I'm Meredith, everyone calls me Merry, I'm gonna be the one showing you around the Pizzaplex!” She motions for Piper to follow her, pushing through the turnstiles with ease before walking into the main lobby. “I’ll give you a more thorough run down after your shift, they never listen when I tell them to have you come tour the place beforehand.” She sighs, stepping onto an escalator and casually leaning up against the railing. “You’re going to be in the daycare, so you’ll be working with Sundrop. It should be pretty easy; arts and crafts, making sure the kids don't hurt themselves, nap time, nothing too crazy. Sun can walk you through it, anything you need, just ask him.”

“Some interesting nicknames around here.” She remarks with a lopsided smile. “Merry and Sun.”

“Oh, Sundrop is his real name!” She responds with a laugh. “I take it you haven't gotten to meet any of the animatronics yet?” Merry gives her an excited glance.

“No, I've seen the posters and stuff, pictures of them in the office when I went in for my interview, things like that, but I haven't, uh, met them?” She says giving the taller blond a look of confusion. ‘Why would I have to introduce myself to a robot?’ She thinks, quickly shaking the thought as she rushes to keep up. She approached a set of large, wooden double doors, the gold handles glistening in the low lighting. She holds the door open for her with a smile, motioning for Piper to walk in ahead of her. Piper fidgets with the sleeves of her sweater, looking around the room to see shoe cubbies and hangers for coats and bags about halfway up the wall. The faded paint was covered in drawings of kids standing next to who you were assuming to be the daycare animatronics. Both of them are tall and slender, one with a sun shaped head, the other a moon. The sun wore yellow and red striped pants that billowed loosely down his legs, you noticed most of the kids had drawn what must have been bells on his wrists and ankles. The moon was dressed similarly, only his pants had white stars against a dark blue background, a matching sleep cap sitting atop his head. She smiled, breathing out a soft laugh as she ran her finger over the waxy artwork.

“We could take the stairs, but the slide’s faster.” Piper jumps as Merry suddenly starts talking. She chuckles seeing the shorter woman’s expression, pointing to a tube that must have led down to the daycare.

“Slide it is.” Piper giggles in response. Merry grabs onto the railing above the slide, jumping slightly before flinging herself down the plastic tunnel. Piper hears the clatter of plastic below before Merry calls for her to come down. She excitedly hops into the slide, unable to stop herself from smiling as she rushes downwards. She yelps slightly as the slide abruptly ends and she’s flung into the waiting ball pit below.

“Sunny! I’ve got a new friend for you to meet!” Merry cups her hands around her mouth as she calls out in the massive playroom.

“A new friend? Oh, how exciting!” Piper hears a voice call from above. Her eyes widen as she sees a large clown with a sun shaped head spin out onto a platform overlooking the daycare. In one swift motion he dove from the platform and into the ballpit, mere feet in front of her. Piper scrambled to find solid ground, hoisting herself up onto the rubber mat covered floor, her foot slipping on one of the yellow pool noodle covered edges. Two sets of articulate robotic fingers wrap around the foam in front of her before the robot hoists himself up to his full height, she scrambles backwards, screaming as she bumps into Merry.

“It’s alright! Piper, this is who you’re working with!” She drops down to her side, shaking her slightly in an attempt to break her out of her panic. She froze, her chest heaving as she watched the golden points whirl around his face.

“You said he was an animatronic!” She exclaims, motioning rapidly to the human-esque figure in front of her.

“He is!” She exclaims. “The technology for him is very advanced, it’s something the owners have been perfecting their entire lives.” She explains with a smile. She looks between the animatronic and the nearly shaking girl in front of her. “Sundrop, this is Piper, she’s the new daycare attendant.” He stands there for a moment. His unreadable expression makes her heart race.

“New daycare attendant, hm?” He suddenly speaks, his voice was so expressive, if she wasn't so terrified of his monstrously tall stature Piper would've been amazed. He slinks closer to her, kneeling down to bring his face directly in front of hers. “I’ll warn you now, the daycare isn’t a place for amateurs.” She furrowed her brows at him.

“I’ll have you know I’m wonderful with children.” She sits up, he jolts back as she suddenly gets close to him. “I would appreciate it if you wouldn’t make assumptions about me considering you just met me a few seconds ago.” He seemed a bit taken aback at her sudden change in demeanor. Just a moment ago she looked so timid and scared, but now she looked like she was ready to bite his head off.

“I’ll let your work speak for you then.” He stands, grabbing her gently by the wrist and hoisting her up with him.

“Sun, play nice, she’s the best resume that’s applied for the daycare in a long time. Who knows, maybe you might even like her.” She smiles and winks at him. She turns to Piper, “I’ll swing back by here at lunchtime, I’ll help you find your way to the cafeteria.” She offers happily. “And don’t let him make you nervous, he’s a drama queen anyways.” She teases, making Piper giggle.

“I wonder why? It’s not like my programming was originally meant for the theater or anything.” He responds sarcastically.

“Show her around the daycare, give her a run down of the schedule, don’t kill each other.” She counts out the tasks on her fingers. “Think both of you can handle that?” They both nod. She gives both of them a wave over her shoulder as she heads off to get ready for her shift.

“So, we start off with free play.” He motions for her to follow him as he prattles on about the schedule for the day. He shows her where all the craft supplies are, where to find the adult-only tools like sharp scissors and permanent markers. He explained that during naptime is when she would meet Moondrop, “let him handle putting the kids down, he doesn’t like it when someone interrupts his system.” He explains. “Other than that, if you’ve worked with kids before, you should know what you’re doing already.” He sighs, obviously expecting her to fail from the start.

“I think I can handle it, don’t worry.” She squeaks with mock confidence, trying to find some way to change the animatronics tune towards her. “Sundrop?” He turns to her. “I’m really looking forward to working with you, I’m sure I can learn a lot.” She noticed how the whirrs and pings of his internal mechanisms grew slightly louder at her compliment. His eyes flicker over her face for a moment.

“Thank you, Piper.”

Piper watches as child after child comes down the slide into the Superstar Daycare. “Friends, if I could interrupt your playtime for just one moment, I have an important announcement to make!” She was pleasantly surprised at how quickly the screams and laughter of the children died down, Sun easily able to catch their attention. “Some of you might have noticed there's a new face around the Daycare today. I would like to introduce all of you to Miss Piper.” There was a chorus of small hello's and hi’s from the group. She jump as Sun suddenly claps his hands together, telling them all they could go back to playing. He strides up to her, her eyes trailing up his long thin frame as he stretches farther above her than anyone she had ever met. She guessed that Sun stood somewhere around 7 feet tall, compared to her short stature he looked nothing short of a gigantic. “Go grab the markers from the supply closet, I'll take care of pulling out the tables and chairs.”

“You know it wouldn’t kill you to say please.” Piper huffs before turning on her heels and hurrying off to get set up for drawing time. Sun can’t help but watch her retreat. Out of all of his time in the Pizzaplex he had never met anyone like her, staff member or otherwise. She wasn't afraid to speak her mind, that was apparent from the small little quips she had spit out at him. Granted, he knew he had a tendency to be a bit harsh towards new hires, but that was only because almost everyone they sent him was incompetent. It's not that Sundrop was mean, he was just a perfectionist. The Daycare Attendants he has worked with in the past didn't care about the kids like he did, they didn't have the same passion for the glitter covered stick figures they would be presented with. But there was something different about Piper. Sun saw how you immediately stopped when one of the kids ran up to you, stooping down to scoop the small boy up in her arms to head in the direction he was pointing in. A ball had gotten stuck in one of the rungs on the play place, too high for any of the kids to reach safely. He watched as she maneuvered herself carefully up the brightly colored structure, wiggling the ball loose before climbing back down. She hands the ball over to the boy, giving him a high five and praising him for asking for help. She smiles as the boy runs off to play with his friends. Her eyes meet Sun’s, causing her to freeze. She lets out a sigh of relief, smiling softly as he offers her a subtle thumbs up. Sun walks away, going to set up the tables for the next activity.

“What do we have here?” A voice purrs in Sun’s head.

“There's a new Daycare Attendant.” Sun mutters quietly out loud.

The voice groans, “another one? They keep sending us these stupid humans-”

“I thought the same thing. But she seems… different.” He explains, sliding the tables across the floor.

“So that's what woke me up.” He lets out a raspy chuckle. “I guess I’ll have to see what she’s like in a couple hours.” The warmth in the back of Sun's head dissipates as his counterpart returns to sleep.

“Sundrop?” He's snapped from his thoughts by her melodic voice. He turns to find Piper standing there with multiple bins of art supplies stacked in her arms. “I have all the crayons, markers, glitter, stickers, glue sticks, and stamps.” He smiles as he listens to her list off everything he would have grabbed. “I'm having some trouble finding the paper.” She admits bashfully.

“Here, let me take these.” The cold tips of his metal fingers brush against hers as he takes the stack of containers from her. He spreads them out across the tables before turning back to her. “Let’s go look for that paper.” She was a bit shocked by his response, she was waiting for him to start yelling at her. He didn't seem too keen on working with someone new, her not being able to complete such a simple task should've set him off. She follows him into the supply closet, he lets out a soft hum as he scans over the shelves. “Here we go.” He pulls out a pack of paper and hands it to her. It appeared to be at the back of one of the very top shelves, a place she couldn't have reached if she tried. “I'll make sure to get all the paper moved down to where you can get it.” He states simply before walking back out into the daycare, leaving Piper to watch him duck out of the closet in a state of confusion. He had seemed to completely change from the animatronic she had met earlier this morning, and she couldn't figure out just what exactly had spurred the sudden shift. She got everything set up for drawing time; separating the stack of paper into smaller piles to make it easier for all the kids to share, opening all the containers and removing a couple markers that had been left uncapped and had dried out. You heard the excited screams and talking of the kids as they ran over to draw. Sun had a child in either arm, a third clung to his leg as he moved in your direction.

“Miss Piper?” Her attention was caught by a girl with strawberry blond pigtails as she tugged on her sleeve.

“Hi honey, what’s your name?” She asks cheerily, kneeling down to be closer to the girl's eye level.

“Haley.” She responds with a huge smile, her two front teeth missing.

“It’s nice to meet you Haley, what’s up?” She looks bashfully over at Sundrop before her eyes immediately dart back to Piper.

“Do you think you could help me draw a picture for Mr. Sun?” She holds out the orange crayon she had clutched in her fist. “I want to make something for him but he’s really hard to draw.”

“Of course I can.” Piper smiles brightly at her, letting out a soft chuckle at her excited expression. Haley grabs Piper by the hand, tugging her back to where she was sitting, telling all of her friends that Piper would help them make pictures for Mr. Sun. She couldn't help but smile as her time was filled with giving high fives to all the excited kids as they showed off their drawings to her, drawing a quick Sundrop head for the kids to color, and being asked a million questions about her bright colored jewelry and fun outfit. Little did she know, the whole time Sun was keeping a close eye on her, absolutely delighted by what he saw.

“How’s everyone doing over here?”

“Sunny!”

“Mr. Sun!”

“Sundrop!” Piper looks over her shoulder to see the large animatronic had made his way over to where she was working.

“Is it okay if I sit here Miss Piper?” He asks with a smile, motioning to the chair next to her. He noticed how some of the kids must have placed stickers on her cheeks, her freckles laced with sparkly stars and neon smiley faces.

“Sure, Sundrop.” She smiles sweetly at him. He crouches into the comically small chair, his knees pressed to his chest.

“Miss Piper’s been helping us draw you Mr. Sun.” Haley exclaims, giggling when the animatronic gives her an amazed expression.

“Really? You all wanted to draw me?” They all clamored over to him, wanting to show off their pictures, most of them drawings of Sundrop holding hands with that child, ‘best friends’ scrawled across the bottom in messy script. “These are so wonderful!” He leans in closer to the group, they all copy his motions with wide eyes, waiting eagerly to see what he would say to them. “How about next you guys draw some pictures of Miss Piper?” They all silently agree before hurriedly turning back to their papers and crayons. He leans back in his chair. “I'll have to admit Piper, you're doing an amazing job.” She found heat settling behind her cheeks at the compliment, her eyes darting over to meet his glowing white ones.

“Thank you, Sundrop.” She smiles shyly.

“You can call me Sun, less of a mouthful.” He chuckles. “If Moon likes you you'll have passed your trial run.” There was a slight teasing tone in his voice.

“Well, lets hope for the best then.” She smiles at him.

She was grateful for nap time once it rolled around, with so many kids it was hard to find a moment to catch her breath. “Go pick your spot.” She shoos off a small boy into the other room, dimming the lights as they all settle in. She softly shuts the door, tucking herself away in a corner so she wouldn't get in Moon’s way. She wondered why she hadn't seen any sign of the animatronic all day. Her eyes immediately drifted to Sun as he stepped in the room, as he shut the door you watch his face spin around, all of the points surrounding his head getting tucked away as a sleep cap appeared. She blinked, the gold and red stripes on his pants suddenly turning to stars.

“You must be this new Daycare Attendant I heard about.” His voice was much raspier than Sun’s, he turned to face Piper, a noticeable difference in his face from the animatronic that had just stepped in the room in front of her. The moon on his face was much more prominent, the other side of his face being blacked out save for his glowing white eye. She was amazed at the complexities of their system, not to mention the immediate difference she noticed in their personalities, if she hadn’t just seen the change in front of her she wouldn't have believed this was the same animatronic. “You just sit back here, I’ll make this quick… and try to stay awake.” He chuckles before slinking off into the dark room. She heard the soft gasps and calls for Moon that he gently shushed, patting each child's head that greeted him as he made his way to the center of the room. The soft sounds of a music box beginning to chime filled the room, a tapestry of stars slowly rotated around the ceiling. Almost like magic Piper noticed the kids near her fall asleep one by one, every one of them in the room asleep by the time his song ended. She found herself yawning, pushing her round, wire framed glasses onto the top of her head as she wiped her eyes. She stretched, her spine letting out a soft pop as she pulled her arms over her head. Her eyes fluttered open, her hand immediately clapping over her mouth to suppress the scream that had welled up in her throat. Moondrop’s face was mere inches away from her own, he studied her closely, slowly crawling around her with almost spider like movements.

“I'm assuming you must be Moon?” She whispers nervously, his gaze didn't feel as judgemental as when she first met Sun, but he still made her nervous nonetheless. He offers her a small nod in response. “I’m Piper.”

“Sun seems very impressed with you Miss Piper.” He coos softly. “I do have to say you're definitely a lot prettier than the usual Daycare Attendants they send us.” He chuckles at her flustered expression. He runs a finger over one of the star stickers on her cheek. “The kids seem to like you too, that’s good.” He carefully maneuvers around her, propping himself up against the wall at her side. “How are you enjoying your first day?”

“It’s been good, definitely not what I was expecting.” She giggles, Moon felt a strange pang in his chest at the sight of her smile. She looks out over the group of sleeping children. “You know, that?” She makes a vague motion to the room. “Very impressive.”

“I have a bit of a talent.” He chuckles in response.

“Do you only come out for nap time?” He was a bit surprised by the genuine curiosity in her tone.

“I can only come out when the lights are off.” He explains. “Nap time, sleepovers, Sun and I switch off after hours.” She sat and quietly chatted with Moon for the rest of nap time, Piper found herself a bit sad to see him go.

“It was wonderful getting to know you.” She smiles softly at him.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Piper.” The lights gradually grew brighter as nap time came to an end. The sleepy yawns of kids and soft giggles of them talking amongst themselves filled the room.

“Well, good morning!” Sun greets the kids cheerfully as they head back out into the main play area. She timidly makes her way up to his side, feeling a bit awkward standing next to the tall robot. “I take it everything went well with Moon?” She could tell by the softness his expression held that he already knew the answer to that.

“I hope so.” She smiles at him. “I don't want either of you to think I'm an amateur.” She mocks his assumption from the morning with a wink, making him chuckle.

“You definitely proved you're not an amateur Piper.” His hand gently comes to rest on the top of her head. Piper feels a blush spread across her cheeks as he pats the spot between her messy, copper space buns. “I'm sure they're all hungry, let's get them set up for snack time.”

“He hasn't been giving you a rough time, has he?” Merry asks as she hands you a tray.

“No, I've actually been having a lot of fun working with him.” She admits with a small shrug and a bashful smile.

“What about Moondrop?” She follows up.

“He was also wonderful.” You reassure her.

“I'm impressed.” She mumbles as she starts to grab things to eat. “The last three people they hired had already been run off by now.” She chuckles. “I guess they did end up liking you after all.”

“I can't get over how much personality they have.” Piper smiles excitedly.

“I mean, they might as well be people with how complex of a machine they are. They're fully articulate, their AI lets them experience emotion, they're pretty much just like us without the internal organs.” They both pay for their lunches and sit down. “So, now that you've spent a couple hours with them, do you think you’re going to keep the job?” She seemed almost nervous as she asked her.

“Oh, absolutely!” Piper beams. She hurries through her lunch, exchanging goodbye’s with Merry before she heads back to the daycare. So she wouldn't cause a disruption she decided to take the stairs down to the main play area.

“Welcome back.” Sun smiles at her as she approaches. The rest of the day flew by as Piper got dragged off by a small group of kids to go play. She couldn't help but laugh as she caught sight of a girl wearing pastel pink fairy wings riding around on Sundrop’s shoulders, pretending like she was flying. Slowly your group became smaller and smaller as parents arrived to pick up their children, before you knew it you and Sun were alone, cleaning up the disaster left behind. “I'm sorry we got off on the wrong foot this morning.” He suddenly apologizes, nervously tapping the curled golden toe of his shoe on the floor.

“It’s okay, from what Merry told me they threw in some real pieces of work before me.” She giggles in response. “We can always try again tomorrow.” He pauses, straightening up to look at her.

“Piper?” She hums softly, her blue eyes landing on him. Sun felt the words catch in his throat for a second. He takes a few steps closer to her, retrieving a yellow sun sticker from the booklet he kept in his pocket. He presses it to the apple of her cheek, her soft warm skin squishing under his finger as she smiles at his action. “Welcome to the team.”

Tag List: @yellowbunnydreams @twelvelevens

[klbwriting]

Adventures In Atlantean-Sitting

Chapter 6

Fandom: Aquaman

Pairing: Ormxfemale!Reader

Warnings: mild violence

Summary: Orm goes to help and finds some evidence of who might be framing him

Orm ran back to the pier, YN following him. She called his name and he stopped, looking at her. He couldn’t get through the turnstiles with the bracelet on. She looked at him, conflicted for a moment. Would he run again? Use this as a reason to leave her behind like everyone else did?

“There are people who need help,” he said. She nodded, coming to her senses. She released the bracelet, taking it with her. Orm jumped over the fence to the park easily now, taking off into the wreck while YN stood out front, helping those who were escaping get to the help.

Orm skidded to a stop, seeing Atlantean soldiers firing weapons. They were wearing strange gloves. He studied them and realized they were pieces of his old suits. That’s where they were getting the DNA from. He noted that down for Arthur later and dove into the fray. He tried to avoid fighting at first, wanting to get as many people out as he could. He slid behind game stalls, cardboard cutouts, direction signs, anything so he wouldn’t be seen for the moment. He found a family about to be crushed from a falling awning, he lifted it and sent them away. He then found one of the rides, stopped, the operator having been hit and unable to move. He tore open the restraints, getting them off and sending them out. As he was going to the swing ride, he heard one of the soldiers call out to him. He turned and barely dodged the blast.

“Orm Marius, you are under arrest,” he called. Orm glared.

“For what?” he asked. There was a list of things, but he wasn’t the one attacking right now.

“For this attack and for the attack in the city proper,” he answered. Orm could see the smug look on the soldier’s face. He really thought he had done something great here, maybe he would get a promotion for this. Orm shook his head. Not today he wouldn’t. Orm held up his hands, pretending to be coming towards them. He knew they were just going to shoot him, would be easier bringing back a body instead of a living Atlantean. He waited until he saw the charge starting, then he ran right at him. The soldier was surprised, grip slipping on the weapon. Orm took the moment to slide just a little to the right, the weapon firing wide, him able to grab it from the solder’s hands, turning it and hitting him in the helmet with it. The protective screen shattered, and the soldier was forced to retreat to the water before he suffocated. The other two soldiers were ready, already firing. He winced as one of the shots grazed his side. These wounds would take longer to heal than the ones he got on the surface. He felt some burning also but ignored it as he fired the weapon back at the soldier. His hit was true, sending the soldier into a food stall. The final attacker, clearly realizing he was in trouble, dropped his weapon, holding up his hands. Orm didn’t lower his weapon.

“Take off the gloves,” Orm said. The soldier did as instructed. “Take your friend and get back to Atlantis, tell whoever is sending you here to leave me alone. I am not coming back there.” The soldier nodded, looking surprised. All the stories they heard about Orm was that he was bloodthirsty, that he had no mercy for anyone. Why was he sparing all of them? The soldier gathered the other and they went back to the water.

“Orm!” YN yelled, running up to him. He turned to face her, glad to see her safe. He motioned to the gloves on the ground.

“We need to get those to Arthur…and this weapon…” he wasn’t sure what happened next, everything went black.

Arthur arrived at YN’s cottage as the sun was rising the next morning. He brought Atlanna with him to help with Orm’s wounds. The queen had spent some time since coming back helping with the sick and injured in Atlantis and he hoped she would know what was wrong. Orm had a fever, the gash in his side wasn’t healing and was turning a strange shade of green. YN knew it was infected but they didn’t have the same medicines on the surface. As Atlanna went to help Orm in the bedroom YN led Arthur to her shed behind the house.

“He said to bring these back from the attack,” she explained, showing him the gloves and the weapons. “I’m not sure why, but I think they’re evidence that he isn’t the one doing this.” Arthur nodded and then looked at her. She knew she looked back. She hadn’t slept and her eyes were red and raw from crying. She couldn’t hold still either, feeling like she needed to do something but all she could do was stand there. She kept inadvertently using her power to find Orm even though she knew where he was, and it was draining.

“What’s been happening while he’s been here?” Arthur asked, putting the evidence in his bag carefully so not to damage them. YN debated being completely honest with him, but what was the point in lying?

“Well, he tried to run away first, I used the bracelet on him after that and I don’t know, we’ve just been, together,” she said. “Its so basic, we hang out, watch tv, cook together, go to the movies or the diner, talk. Do you know he’s funny? Like honestly, really funny in a dry kind of way. And he can sing, angelic voice on that man, and last night…he saw people, surface dwellers, in danger and he was so worried about them, had to run back to save them. I wished I could have kept up with him, but he ran and people were coming out and the ambulance arrived so instead of staying with him I went to help the others and now he’s in there hurt.”

“Its not your fault, he knew what he was doing,” Arthur said. She made a frustrated noise.

“I know it’s not my fault, but he’s been trying so hard to be good, to not be who he was and now someone is fucking with that progress he’s made. And why? You know that we were volunteering this week at a soup kitchen? He keeps saying he wants to make up for what he did, for the surface at least, because he can’t fix what he did in Atlantis, so we were starting there…its not fair!” she said. She knew she sounded like a toddler, but she hated to see him like this, hated not knowing what might happen to him. Arthur reached out and hugged her to him.

“He’ll be ok, mom knows what she’s doing, and we have some evidence of tampering, maybe we can do something with it, throw the investigation in another direction,” he said. “And maybe once he’s up and about again you can get back to your basic married life.” YN let out a hoarse laugh at that before nodding. He let her go and they headed inside. Atlanna was waiting for them.

“He’s going to be fine, there was a poison lace in the water that they shot him with, I was able to give him the antidote once I figured out what it was. He just needs a day or two of rest,” she said. YN nodded and went into the bedroom. Orm was awake, groggy but awake.

“Hi,” YN said, sitting next to him on the bed. He immediately put his head in her lap, hugging her legs gently. He had been having horrible nightmares about her being taken from him, hurt because of him. He needed her close and she didn’t mind, fingers brushing his hair back from his face.

“You’re safe,” he said softly. She chuckled as his words slurred.

“I am, and so are you,” she said back. He nodded. “Get some rest, I’ll stay with you.” She waved to Arthur and Atlanna as they left and didn’t move for the rest of the day.