#small commercial kitchen for rent near me | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

jamesvince9898 · 2 months ago

Text

Sterling Cleaners Ltd: Professional Cleaning Services in Birmingham and Solihull for Homes and Offices

Introduction: Maintaining a clean environment is essential for both residential and commercial spaces, as it contributes to health, productivity, and overall well-being. Sterling Cleaners Ltd, with Pedro at the helm, offers comprehensive cleaning solutions that cater to a wide range of needs. Whether you're searching for office cleaning near me, tenancy cleaning in Birmingham, or reliable cleaners in Solihull, we have you covered. Our professional team ensures that every space, big or small, receives the highest level of care, delivering impeccable results every time.

Our cleaning services are designed to be flexible and customizable, catering to businesses, landlords, tenants, and homeowners. From deep tenancy cleans in Birmingham to regular office maintenance, Sterling Cleaners Ltd provides services that guarantee cleanliness and satisfaction. With a focus on quality, reliability, and customer care, our team works hard to deliver outstanding results, making sure that every client’s unique requirements are met.

Office Cleaning Near Me: Enhance Productivity and Workplace Cleanliness For businesses, maintaining a clean and organized office is not just a matter of aesthetics—it plays a crucial role in employee well-being and productivity. Searching for "office cleaning near me" often leads to a plethora of options, but at Sterling Cleaners Ltd, we stand out due to our attention to detail and commitment to high standards. We offer tailored office cleaning services that ensure your workspace is not only spotless but also welcoming for employees and clients alike.

Our office cleaning services include everything from dusting and vacuuming to deep cleaning of common areas, kitchens, and restrooms. We understand that every business is different, which is why we offer flexible schedules, including after-hours cleaning, so that our services don’t disrupt your workflow. With Sterling Cleaners Ltd, you can focus on running your business, while we take care of maintaining a pristine and healthy work environment.

Specialized Tenancy Cleaning in Birmingham: End of Lease Solutions Moving out of a rental property can be stressful, especially when it comes to ensuring the property is clean and ready for the next tenants. Our tenancy cleaning services in Birmingham are designed to take the hassle out of this process, ensuring that landlords and tenants can meet the necessary cleaning standards for moving out or preparing a property for new occupants. When you need "tenancy cleaning Birmingham" to restore a property to its original condition, Sterling Cleaners Ltd provides an efficient, thorough, and reliable solution.

Our tenancy cleaning services include deep cleaning of every room, focusing on areas like kitchens, bathrooms, and flooring that accumulate the most dirt and grime over time. We work closely with landlords and property managers to ensure that every detail is taken care of, leaving the property in pristine condition. Whether you're moving out of a rented property or managing multiple units, our expert cleaning team delivers results that meet and exceed expectations.

Reliable Cleaning Services Near Me: Tailored to Your Needs At Sterling Cleaners Ltd, we recognize that no two clients are the same. Our cleaning services are flexible and customizable, allowing us to tailor our offerings to fit your specific needs. Whether you're a business owner searching for "cleaning services near me" or a resident in need of a one-off deep clean, we offer a range of solutions to ensure that your space is always in top condition. From routine maintenance to deep cleaning projects, our experienced team is equipped to handle any task.

We pride ourselves on our professionalism, using high-quality cleaning products and state-of-the-art equipment to deliver outstanding results. Our cleaning services include everything from vacuuming, dusting, and mopping to specialized services like carpet cleaning, window washing, and upholstery care. No matter the size or scope of the job, we are committed to delivering a service that is both reliable and affordable.

Expert Cleaners in Birmingham: Local Professionals You Can Trust Finding reliable cleaners in Birmingham can be a challenge, but with Sterling Cleaners Ltd, you’re choosing a team of professionals who are dedicated to delivering high-quality services with a personal touch. We are proud to serve the Birmingham community, offering expert cleaning solutions that cater to both residential and commercial clients. Whether you're a homeowner in need of regular cleaning or a business owner looking to maintain a clean workspace, our team is equipped to handle all your cleaning needs.

Our cleaners in Birmingham are fully trained, insured, and experienced, ensuring that every job is completed to the highest standards. We take pride in our attention to detail and commitment to customer satisfaction, ensuring that no task is left undone. From one-time deep cleans to regular maintenance, our Birmingham-based cleaning services are designed to make your life easier and your space cleaner.

Comprehensive Cleaning Services in Solihull: From Homes to Offices Sterling Cleaners Ltd is proud to extend its services to Solihull, offering top-notch cleaning solutions to residents and businesses alike. Our cleaning services in Solihull are just as comprehensive and customizable as those in Birmingham, ensuring that we can meet the diverse needs of our clients. Whether you're a busy professional looking for regular home cleaning services or a business owner seeking commercial cleaning, we have the expertise and resources to deliver exceptional results.

We offer a full range of cleaning services in Solihull, including domestic cleaning, office cleaning, and tenancy cleaning. No matter the size or type of property, our experienced cleaners provide reliable, high-quality service every time. Our flexible scheduling and attention to detail ensure that your space is cleaned to your exact specifications, providing a hassle-free solution for all your cleaning needs.

Why Choose Sterling Cleaners Ltd for Your Cleaning Needs? Choosing a cleaning company that truly understands your needs and delivers consistent, reliable service is crucial. Sterling Cleaners Ltd offers a unique combination of expertise, flexibility, and dedication to quality. We tailor our services to fit your specific requirements, ensuring that you receive exactly the cleaning solution you need. Our team is equipped to handle everything from routine office cleaning to intensive tenancy cleans, always with a focus on exceeding client expectations.

One of the key reasons to choose Sterling Cleaners Ltd is our commitment to providing excellent customer service. We believe in building long-term relationships with our clients, which is why we take the time to understand your unique cleaning needs and preferences. Our team is always available to answer questions, make adjustments to your cleaning schedule, or address any concerns you may have.

Another reason to choose us is our focus on sustainability. We use eco-friendly cleaning products whenever possible, ensuring that our services are safe for both your environment and the planet. Whether you need office cleaning near me, tenancy cleaning in Birmingham, or residential cleaning in Solihull, you can trust Sterling Cleaners Ltd to deliver high-quality results in an environmentally responsible way.

Tailored Cleaning Plans for Every Client At Sterling Cleaners Ltd, we understand that different clients have different needs, which is why we offer customizable cleaning plans for all of our services. Whether you're looking for a one-time deep clean or regular maintenance, we’ll work with you to develop a plan that fits your budget, schedule, and specific cleaning requirements.

We offer flexible service options, including weekly, bi-weekly, and monthly cleaning schedules, to ensure that your space remains clean and well-maintained throughout the year. Our team is equipped to handle both large commercial properties and smaller residential spaces, always with the same level of care and attention to detail.

Conclusion: Sterling Cleaners Ltd with Pedro is your go-to solution for all your cleaning needs in Birmingham and Solihull. From specialized tenancy cleaning in Birmingham to reliable office cleaning services, we offer a wide range of cleaning solutions tailored to meet the unique requirements of our clients. Our team of professional cleaners is dedicated to delivering outstanding results, ensuring that every space we clean is left spotless and refreshed.

#Office cleaning near me #Tenancy Cleaning Birmingham #Cleaning services near me #Cleaners Birmingham

0 notes

customconcessions · 4 months ago

Text

Importance Of Running A Food Truck Business

Food trucks are becoming increasingly popular, and having one has several advantages. The primary decision you will face if you want to launch a food business is between opening a restaurant or a food truck. It is better to opt for a food truck. You can search online for a food trailer for rent near me to find the best option. Here mentioned are the importance of running a food truck business:

Customers are drawn in by food trucks:

Most consumers purchase food from food trucks rather than street vendors because they offer higher-quality cuisine at more reasonable prices. Compared to street food, eating from food trucks is healthier and safer. As health consciousness increases, more individuals choose to get their meals from food trucks and local eateries instead of larger chains since they are more affordable.

Specialized marketing possibilities:

Food trucks may readily use social media and word-of-mouth marketing to become neighborhood attractions. With the help of restaurant kitchen builders, you can make your kitchen based on your needs. They are visible and interesting to buyers because of their distinctive branding and frequent attendance at festivals, events, and crowded street corners.

The head is far lower:

When you own a food truck, you usually have a small staff. Most will only have a small number of employees who often switch shifts, but you can also operate a profitable firm with just one or two employees. You can have custom commercial kitchen equipment for your business. Paying wait workers or cleaning crews is optional. While costs will undoubtedly continue, once you have a clientele, they are easier to manage and more predictable.

Partial words:

Food truck businesses are intriguing to entrepreneurs because they offer several benefits. You can get a wide range of options by clicking custom concession trailers near me. With proper planning, commitment, and inventiveness, any town may witness the successful growth and enduring presence of a food truck enterprise.

#food trailer for rent near me #custom commercial kitchen equipment #restaurant kitchen builders #custom concession trailers near me

0 notes

flat-creek-solutions · 5 months ago

Text

Dumpster Rental Near Me

Choosing a dumpster rental near me can offer significant advantages when looking to manage waste effectively during home renovations, decluttering projects, or commercial cleanouts. This convenient service not only simplifies waste disposal but also provides various benefits that cater to both residential and commercial needs.

One of the primary benefits of opting for a dumpster rental near me is convenience. Having a dumpster nearby means you can easily dispose of waste as you work through your project. This eliminates the hassle of transporting trash to distant locations or waiting for scheduled pickups, streamlining your workflow and saving valuable time. Whether you're renovating your kitchen, cleaning out your garage, or managing a construction site, having a dumpster conveniently located ensures efficient waste management without interruptions.

Renting a dumpster nearby promotes efficient waste management. Instead of accumulating debris in multiple smaller containers or piling it up in your yard, a dumpster provides a centralized location for all waste materials. This not only keeps your work area organized and hazard-free but also reduces the need for frequent trips to disposal sites. With a dumpster on-site, you can maintain a cleaner environment throughout your project, enhancing safety and productivity.

Opting for a dumpster rental near me can also be cost-effective. Many rental services offer flexible pricing based on the duration of use and the volume of waste generated, allowing you to choose a plan that fits your budget. By avoiding multiple trips to disposal sites or overfilling municipal trash bins, you can potentially save money on additional disposal fees or fines. Moreover, the convenience of having a dumpster nearby minimizes labor costs associated with waste transportation, making it a financially viable option for both homeowners and businesses.

Renting a dumpster from a local provider promotes environmental responsibility. Professional dumpster rental companies typically adhere to strict disposal regulations and recycling practices, ensuring that waste is handled responsibly and in compliance with local laws. By opting for a nearby dumpster rental, you contribute to sustainability efforts by reducing landfill waste and promoting the recycling of materials such as metal, wood, and concrete. This environmentally conscious approach not only benefits the community but also reflects positively on your project's ecological footprint.

Another advantage of choosing a dumpster rental near me is the flexibility it offers. Rental services often provide a range of dumpster sizes to accommodate different project needs, from small residential cleanouts to large-scale construction projects. This flexibility allows you to select a dumpster size that matches the scope of your project, ensuring ample space for waste disposal without unnecessary costs or space constraints. Additionally, many rental companies offer flexible rental periods, allowing you to extend or shorten the rental duration based on your project timeline.

Renting a dumpster nearby enhances safety and compliance on your work site. By keeping debris contained within a designated dumpster, you reduce the risk of accidents or injuries caused by scattered waste materials. This is especially crucial on construction sites or during home renovations where sharp objects, heavy debris, or hazardous materials may pose a threat. Furthermore, professional dumpster rental services ensure compliance with local regulations regarding waste disposal and container placement, avoiding potential fines or penalties associated with improper waste management practices.

Choosing a dumpster rental nearby also supports local businesses and the economy. Local rental providers contribute to the community by creating jobs, stimulating economic growth, and fostering relationships with nearby residents and businesses. By patronizing local services, you not only receive personalized customer support and timely service but also contribute to the overall well-being of your community.

Opting for a dumpster rental near me offers numerous benefits that enhance convenience, efficiency, and environmental responsibility during home renovations, cleanouts, or construction projects. From streamlined waste management and cost-effectiveness to promoting sustainability and ensuring compliance, renting a nearby dumpster simplifies the disposal process while supporting local businesses. Whether you're tackling a small home improvement project or overseeing a large-scale construction endeavor, choosing a dumpster rental near you provides the necessary resources to effectively manage waste and maintain a clean, organized work environment.

youtube

Featured Business:

When you're in need of expert dumpster rental near me, look no further than Flat Creek Solutions. With years of experience in the industry, we understand the importance of timely service and cost-effective solutions for both residential and commercial projects. Our comprehensive range of dumpster sizes ensures that we can meet the demands of any job, big or small. From construction debris to household junk removal, our dedicated team is committed to providing reliable delivery and pickup services that keep your project running smoothly. Discover why Flat Creek Solutions is the trusted name in dumpster rental, offering competitive pricing and exceptional customer care every step of the way.

Contact: Flat Creek Solutions 305 S Old Robinson Rd, Robinson, TX 76706, United States FV8J+QQ Robinson, Texas, USA (254) 307–9211 https://www.flatcreeksolutions.com/

YouTube Video: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Gj89mKzQy88

YouTube Playlist: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLzjT5kQvJE3t4IyK_5PIFbd7IhZkRHfl2

Soundcloud: https://soundcloud.com/flat-creek-solutions-tx/dumpster-rental-near-me

Soundcloud Playlist: https://soundcloud.com/flat-creek-solutions-tx/sets/dumpster-rental-near-me

Medium Post: https://medium.com/@flatcreeksolutions00/dumpster-rental-near-me-795e77ce05b0

Weebly: https://dumpster-rental-near-me-1.weebly.com/

Tumblr Post: https://flat-creek-solutions.tumblr.com/post/754425663766839296/dumpster-rental-near-me

Strikingly: https://dumpster-rental-near-me-1.mystrikingly.com/

Google Map: https://www.google.com/maps/d/viewer?mid=1hYXIwgG_E90nyDdTwmASQHP4HMy19TA

Google Map Cid: https://www.google.com/maps?cid=1352716185909715736

Google Site: https://sites.google.com/view/dumpster-rental-near-me-6/

Wakelet: https://wakelet.com/wake/eg_246rFkJQlMjWHue60m

Twitter List: https://x.com/i/lists/1805876943520514489

Twitter Tweets: https://x.com/FlatCreekS/status/1805877886672683392 https://x.com/FlatCreekS/status/1805901356596879579 https://x.com/FlatCreekS/status/1805901514004963743 https://x.com/FlatCreekS/status/1805901686504112192 https://x.com/FlatCreekS/status/1805901881958662162 https://x.com/FlatCreekS/status/1805902027287089408 https://x.com/FlatCreekS/status/1805902349594140874 https://x.com/FlatCreekS/status/1805902492464767070 https://x.com/FlatCreekS/status/1805902624363016322 https://x.com/FlatCreekS/status/1805902785319481640 https://x.com/FlatCreekS/status/1805902941716697285

#Dumpster Rental Near Me #Flat Creek Solutions #Youtube #SoundCloud

0 notes

pestcontrolbloguk · 2 years ago

Text

PEST CONTROL BLOG

Bird Control Services for Residential and Commercial Buildings in the UK

Bed Bug Bites: Identification, Symptoms & Remedies

Effective Rat Control Techniques for Homes and Businesses

Pest Control: Dealing with Wasp Infestations and Nest Elimination

The Ultimate Guide to Wasp Control and Nest Removal

Bon Accord Pest Control: Your Solution for Bird Dropping & Guano Removal Services

The Need for Rat Control in Sewers

How To Get Rid of Rats in Drains: Expert Tips & Solutions

Identifying Mouse Droppings: Potential Hazards and How to Clean Up Safely

Rat Droppings: The Hazards of Inhaling or Touching Rat Faeces

Expert Advice on How To Get Rid of Rats From Home and Garden

Pigeon Lifespan: How long do pigeons live?

How Do Flea Bombs Work?

The Pros and Cons of Flea BombingHow Long Do Flies Live?

Do Mice Hibernate?

Field Mice: How to Identify and Control

Bed Bugs: How to Identify, Control, and TreatUnderstanding the Bed Bug Cycle and How to Kill Bed Bugs

Where Do Bed Bugs Come From And How Do You Get Bed Bugs?The History of Bed Bugs

Locate and Destroy the Bugs: Bed BugsHeat Treating for Bed Bugs: Pros and Cons

How to Identify Bed Bug Bites and Recognise the SignsBites in the Bed: Identifying Bed Bug Bites

Treatment of Bed Bugs – Effective SolutionsHow to Get Rid of Bed Bug Bites Overnight

How to Effectively Treat Bed Bugs: DIY and Professional SolutionsUncovering the Mysteries of Bed Bugs: From Diagnosis to Prevention

Pest Advice For Controlling Rats

Common Mouse Species Found in The UK

Mouse Control: What are the Best Mouse Exterminators and Repellents?

Mouse Identification Chart to Quickly Identify UK Mouse Species

How to Get Rid of Mice: The Benefits of Different Mouse Traps, Repellents, and Baits

Identifying Fox Den Locations in the Garden to Keep the Foxes AwayTypes of Earwigs and Their Habitats

Identifying Different Types of Crab Spiders

Identifying Fly Eggs: How to Spot an Infestation

How to Identify House Crickets Infestation and Take Action to Stop Them

A Guide to Identifying Big Spiders in The UK

How to Tell If You Have a Roach Infestation and When to Hire an Exterminator

Choosing the Right Pest Control Services: Tips and Advice for Homeowners

Debunking Common Myths About Spider Bites in the UK

Flea Spray For Home: Professional Tips for Controlling Fleas The Best Tips for Setting Up a Humane Mouse Trap in Your HomeBaby Pigeon: How To Humanely Remove Baby Pigeons From Your Home

Effective Ways to Deal with an Ant Infestation in Home and Business

Rat In Garden In Daylight: Tips for Making Your Garden Rat-Proof

How to Get Rid of a Wasp Nest: A Guide to Safe and Effective Wasp Control

The Most Effective Treatment of Bed Bugs: What You Need to Know

Types Of Fly – What Are the Different Types of Flies In The UK?

Small Tiny Brown Bugs In House UK

How To Get Rid Of Ants In Kitchen

What Do Bed Bugs Look Like?

The Dangers of Pests: How to Protect Yourself from the Health Hazards They Bring

Don’t Take Pests Lightly – A Comprehensive Look at the Health Dangers They Pose

The Hidden Health Risks of Pest Infestations: The Link Between Disease and Rodents, Insects, and Other Pests

How To Get Rid Of a Mouse?

What is the best way to get rid of rats at home?

How to deal with rat in garden in daylight

Who Is Responsible For Rats In a Rented Property

Wood Worm Control

Pigeon Pest Control Near Me

Pest Control Harrow

Tower Hamlets Pest Control

Seagull Nest Removal Near Me

Cluster Fly KillerBest Way To Get Rid Of Mice

Flea Exterminator

Wolf Spider UK: Bon Accord Pest Control, Wolf Spider Control Experts

Garden Spider UK

House Spider UK – Control and Removal

Wasp Nest Removal Near MeWasp Exterminator

Biscuit Beetle Control

Carpet Beetle Spray

Bon Accord Best Ant Killer UK – How to Deal with Ant InfestationSpray For BugsPest Control Supermarket

Spray for Bed Bugs

Wasp Removal

Say Goodbye to Pests with Bon Accord – London’s Best Pest Control

Bed Bug Killer

London Pest Control Near Me

Mouse DeterrentDo Mice Usually Go Upstairs

Rat RepellentRat Killer

Cockroach Killer London: Bon Accord Professional Extermination Services

Bird Netting Services

Bed Bug Spray

Moth Killer

Spray For Bugs in Bed

Fly Killer

Bon Accord Ant Killer -We Deal with Ant Infestations

How Common are Bed Bugs in London Hotels

Rats In Garden – Find Out How To Get Rid Of ThemWhat Do Ants Eat?

0 notes

olivemac · 4 years ago

Text

heartbeat | chapter two | b.b.

Summary | When Steve Rogers asks Kate Stark to find the Winter Soldier, she gets too involved.

Notes | Captain America: Civil War re-write, essentially. Starts just after the events of CA: Winter Soldier.

Pairing | Bucky Barnes x fem!oc, Bucky Barnes x Stark!oc

Genre | romance

Rating | explicit

Story Warnings | angst, fluff, romance tropes, so many romance tropes, coarse language, alcohol use, canon-typical violence , smut (m/f), oral sex (f&m receiving), 18+ ONLY

Chapter Warnings | coarse language

master list | AO3 link

_____

prev chapter

_____

Kate is on the next commercial flight to Bucharest. She's worried Bucky will move on before she can get to him, but she knows Tony would never approve of the use of one of his jets to chase down an ex-assassin in hiding. The less he knows, the better. Which is why she told him she was escaping to Europe for a long respite after feeling oh so overwhelmed with her work at Stark Industries.

Tony barely bats an eye when she told him. There were some advantages to being Tony Starks' baby sister. The first being he feels guilty about his ineptness at raising her after their parents' death and would literally let her get away with murder. The second is an almost unlimited bank account left to her by her father and supplemented by Tony's previously mentioned guilt.

Kate Stark was her mother’s mid-life crisis. Maria, three decades younger than her husband, had – at forty-two years old – decided she wanted another baby. Tony, who was eighteen at the time, had balked at the idea. But Howard relented and called in the best team of fertility doctors money could buy, and Kate was born.

She doesn't remember her parents, not really. She was only three when they died, and she doesn't remember that event either. Though she was there, in the car, when it crashed on Long Island.

Tony's only ever spoken to her about it once, after she accused him of hating her for surviving when their parents died. Really, he hated that he survived.

When rescue workers arrived at the scene of the wreck, they found her parents dead in the front seat and her tucked safely into her car seat in the back, bundled up against the December cold. She was an orphan, and Tony, at twenty-one, was suddenly responsible for a toddler.

So, he did the only thing he could think of. He hired a series of nannies to raise her, then sent her off to boarding school as soon as she was old enough, all the while playing genius, billionaire playboy.

He wasn’t surprised when it turned out she was just as smart as him or their father. And it surprised him less when she followed in his footsteps and attended MIT. What did surprise him was when she started hacking government databases for fun. She only agreed to work for him at Stark Industries in exchange for him not sticking Rhodey on her after she released documents regarding the US Air Force‘s involvement in some less that savory overseas dealings.

On the plane, she starts an email to Steve telling him where she was headed and what she had found. Then she deletes it and starts over. Then deletes that. She chews her thumbnail and thinks. If she tells Steve where Bucky is, he'll come blazing in, shield at the ready, and Bucky will.... She doesn’t know what Bucky will do, but she has a feeling the encounter would end with a fight and Bucky running. Which will kill Steve. Again. So, she decides she doesn't need to tell Steve – not right away. She'll see if she can figure out what Bucky remembers – if anything – before telling Steve where he is.

_____

A little over forty-eight hours after her software found Bucky, Kate is assembling IKEA furniture in her new studio apartment in Romania. Getting the landlord to lease her the empty flat next to Bucky's was easy enough when Kate offered him double what he was asking in rent. He was discreet enough to not ask any questions. Most of the people in the building were hiding from something so a young American woman who paid cash upfront wasn't the most unusual thing he'd dealt with.

She makes her bed, unpacks her suitcase, and re-reads the Winter Soldier file. That night she dreams of her parents and the wreck that killed them. In the dream there's always a man outside of the car, but she can never see his face. Her father begs for help: "Help my wife, my daughter. Please. Help."

She wakes up sweating, a scream caught in her throat.

_____

The apartment next to his is no longer empty. Bucky can hear music and soft footsteps through the paper-thin walls. If he focuses his hearing, he can hear a heartbeat other than his own, but he's working to turn off the super soldier reflexes, so he tries to ignore it. He's enjoyed the silence that the empty apartment afforded him, and he hopes the new tenant isn’t as nosy as his neighbor in Kiev who had asked so many questions. He hadn't stayed long after that meeting.

Around two in the morning, he wakes to the sound of a strangled cry from his new neighbor. Bucky sits up straight, suddenly on alert. He listens closely, focusing for the sounds of a struggle, but he only hears the unfamiliar heartbeat. His neighbor was having a nightmare, he imagines. He had plenty of those himself.

Sometimes he was staring down the barrel of a gun, his only intent to kill. Other nightmares took him back to the HYDRA base and their machine that scrambled his thoughts over and over again. And others found him falling from a train, the blonde man from the Triskelion reaching out toward him. He always wakes up just before he hits the icy river he knows awaits him.

Bucky knows now that the blonde man is Steve Rogers. Without HYDRA's influence, he's started to remember more: flashes of Steve and a group called the Howling Commandos during the war, but also flashes of Steve before the war, smaller, shorter. And flashes of a family – his family – a father, a mother, a sister. Rebecca. The name comes to him one afternoon while he's browsing the used bookstore near his flat.

He's started eating plums and jogging to improve his memory. He isn't sure if it's helping, but the memories are becoming longer and more frequent. He sees himself with Steve at Coney Island, riding the Cyclone until Steve lost his lunch and Bucky laughed so hard tears were streaming down his face, and he sees himself flirting with an auburn-haired combat nurse in Italy, following her back to her tent and undressing her slowly.

He wakes the next morning feeling restless. He had slept in fits and starts, listening for any more disturbances from next door. None came.

He dresses and goes for a run, and when he returns, he catches his first glimpse of his new neighbor. She's coming out of her apartment, her face turned downward toward her phone. When he reaches the top of the stairs, she lifts her head and smiles. Bucky is struck by how pretty she is, a thought he hasn't let himself have since leaving HYDRA. He turns away quickly and slams the door to his own apartment. He doesn't need pink lips and dark curls reminding him of what he can never have again. He's too broken for her, or anyone else for that matter.

_____

Bucky has seen his new neighbor more times in five days than he's seen anyone else in the building over the past two months. They always seem to be coming or going at the same time.

The first time he actually speaks to her, she's dropping groceries up the stairs from a rip in her canvas bag.

"Fuck," she mutters as an apple rolls beneath the railing and falls to the landing below.

Bucky has a brief vision of her uttering that same word while his head is buried between her legs, but he shakes if off quickly.

"Let me," he says in English, scooping up some rogue potatoes and taking the bag from her.

"Thanks," she says before unlocking her door and holding it open for him.

Her apartment is the same layout as his – one room, with a tiny bathroom at the front and a small kitchen along the back wall. He sets the bag of groceries on the kitchen counter and steps back.

"I should—"

"Thank you—"

They both speak at the same time. Bucky bows his head and motions for her to continue.

"Thank you for your help." She pauses. "And it's nice to speak English for a change. My Romanian is atrocious," she laughs. "How’d you guess?"

"All the music you listen to is in English," he replies brusquely.

She cringes. "Sorry. I'll turn it down."

"No," he says, "It's fine. Really."

There's an awkward pause as they both stare at each other.

Bucky breaks the silence first. "I should go."

"Right." She leads him to the door. "Thanks."

Bucky nods.

When his own apartment door closes behind him, he sighs and scrubs his right hand over his face. He needs to avoid her. He doesn't need anything to distract him from regaining his memories, and he certainly doesn't need to get close to someone he'll inevitably hurt. He doesn’t even begin let himself entertain the thought that she could be a HYDRA agent waiting to turn him in.

_____

Later that evening, he's startled by a knock at his door. When he peers into the hallway, there's a plate of food on the floor, covered with a cloth and a note. He picks it up.

Thanks for saving my groceries.

- Kate

Bucky considers the possibilities that she is a HYDRA agent and the food is poisoned, but he decides it's unlikely HYDRA would take that approach. If anything, they would want their soldier back, and if they didn't, they wouldn't kill him quickly. Also, he can't remember the last time he had a home-cooked meal – definitely before the war – and he’s starving. Protein bars aren’t really cutting it anymore.

He studies the note as he eats. He runs his fingers over the name written in curling handwriting: Kate, and debates what his next move should be. He needs to ignore her – for her own safety – but his mother raised a gentleman so he should at least thank her for dinner, right?

_____

Kate nearly steps on the plate when she leaves her flat the next morning for a run. It’s sitting right at her doorway, clean, the dish towel she had with it folded with a note peeking out.

Kate,

You’re welcome. Thank you for dinner.

- Bucky

If she knew how long Bucky had agonized over whether to write back, she probably would have cried. Kate definitely would have cried if she knew he had debated whether or not to sign the note “Bucky” or “James.” He’s been using James at any off-the-books odd jobs he can get, but with his memories returning, he’s been feeling more like the Bucky Steve referred to in DC.

_____

Kate makes a potato soup that night and leaves it outside his door sans note. She brings him dinner for a week straight before she asks him to dine with her.

"Come over,” she says the next time they pass in the hall.

"What?" Bucky freezes.

"Come over tonight,” Kate repeats, “for dinner.”

"Why?" He sounds rude. He should really work on that, but she’s caught him in one of his broodier moods after another sleepless night.

"Why not?” she shrugs. “I have wine."

He’s staring at her. He realizes he needs to stop staring at her and answer.

“Okay.”

“Seven thirty?” she suggests.

"Okay," he replies.

"Okay," she laughs.

For a second, Bucky wonders if she's laughing at him, but there's a softness in her eyes that makes him think not. Talking to women used to be easy, he thinks. It took him hours to come up with the simplest response to her note the other night, and now he can't even form a sentence in front of her. He spends the rest of the day worrying he's made a huge mistake in accepting her invitation.

He's not the only one. Kate has half a mind to call it all off, phone Steve, and get on the next plane back to New York. What if he doesn't remember anything? What if he's still the Winter Soldier? She has a brief vision of Bucky snapping and wrapping that metal hand he's been hiding around her throat – and not in a fun way. But when he knocks on her door at seven thirty, she thinks she might actually die from how sweet he looks.

"Hi," she says.

"Hi," he responds, running his tongue over his lips nervously.

They're caught in another awkward moment of just staring at each other when she finally invites him.

The old Bucky would have bought flowers and then made some quip about how the flowers aren't nearly as beautiful as she is, but this Bucky – post-HYDRA Bucky – feels like he's forgotten how to interact with women at all and his tongue has suddenly turned to lead.

Kate's debated how much to reveal about herself. Finally, she decides she'll tell him everything. Well, mostly everything. He doesn't need to know that she's a Stark or friends with Steve Rogers or here on some crazy rescue mission to save the Winter Soldier because maybe, just maybe, she read his file one too many times and got caught up in the look in Steve's eyes when he talked about Bucky. No, he doesn't need to know that.

Kate's also considered how much to ask him about himself. She wants to know what – if anything – he remembers, but she also doesn't want to give herself away by revealing she knows who he really is. And she doubts he’ll tell her outright. The fact that he signed the note Bucky seems like a good indication that his memories are returning, though.

"How long have you been in Bucharest, Bucky?" she asks, plating their dinner.

"Almost two months," he says.

"Here for work?" she asks casually.

"Uh...it's complicated," he says, scratching at the back of his neck. "You?"

She looks up at him. "It's complicated."

They're staring at each other again, and Bucky has to force himself to look away.

"Family?" she asks.

"Also complicated," he says. God, he thinks, he sounds like a jackass. But it's not like he can tell her he's a ninety-eight-year-old ex-assassin in hiding so his family is probably long dead.

She motions for him to sit at her small kitchen table and sets a plate in front of him.

"You're not hiding a wedding ring under those gloves, are you?" she asks, a smirk on her lips. She knows about his arm; she just wants to see what he’ll give away.

He blushes and looks at his hands. Then he realizes he's taking too long to answer, and she probably thinks he's an idiot. "No... uh...no. No," he finally says without elaborating.

Kate can sense he's nervous so she does what Tony would do in a situation like this and just keeps talking. She tells him about Tony – minus the Stark detail. She talks about MIT and New York and the last book she read. He listens closely, laughing softly when she makes jokes and asking questions where appropriate. He likes the way her lips look when they form his name and the way her eyes light up at her own humor.

When they finish eating, Bucky helps her wash dishes. She considers asking him to stay, watch a movie or something, but then she thinks maybe she should take this slowly, not overwhelm him, so she bids him goodnight and closes the door behind him.

Bucky thinks Kate might be the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen. Then he thinks that might be because she’s the first woman he’s interacted with in so long. Either way, he tries not to think of her that night when his body remembers what it's like to be a man.

He decides that staying away from her would be too hard.

On the other side of the wall, she’s thinking of him, too. She hadn't expected his eyes to be so impossibly blue. She had stared at the black and white military photo for hours, but seeing him in person, she was caught in the Arctic waters that made up his eyes.

_____

next chapter

#bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #sergeant barnes #bucky barnes x oc #bucky x oc #bucky barnes x ofc #bucky x ofc #bucky fic #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes romance

31 notes · View notes

pixieungerstories · 4 years ago

Text

The Captive

It was pouring rain and the staff all knew that no one was going out in that to buy a skein of alpaca and a chocolate croissant. Not even if they were made with the good chocolate. “Go home, Ben. It’s been a long day. You work hard and have earned some time off.”

Ben hesitated, “You sure, Elly?”

That was when the power went out. “Well, I am now,” Elaina replied.

In the faint light seeping in through the windows, Ben took off his apron and tossed it into the laundry hamper. He had the lean look of someone who was a tall 98 pound weakling in high school and was now a daily visitor to the gym. He had some muscle mass but would never be the bulky guy he wanted to be. His thick dark brown hair was cropped close in an attempt to keep it from sticking up in odd ways. This was an improvement over his previous cut where he looked like he was wearing a hat made of hair. His cheekbones were sharp. His nose was a long and straight with a hint of the freckles he had as a kid. His eyebrows were not thick but they were expressive. All and all, he looked like someone who, should they need to be described in a single word, the word would be sharp. Or possibly angular.

He kissed Elly’s cheek on his way past, “Lock the door behind me, ok?”

She nodded and flipped the open sign to closed When Ben left, she locked the deadbolt and put the security chain in place. Normally at the end of the day, she would wash the kitchen towels, the linen napkins and Ben’s apron.

Straw into Gold was in an old three story house. The kitchen was now a commercial kitchen. The dining room was the cafe. The rest of the house had been opened up to sell wool, yarn, dyeing supplies, spinning wheels and looms. The fireplace was still there in the parlour, still working. There was a circle of arm chairs arranged around it where the knitting groups could meet and not be near the cafe crumbs.

Elly would have to wait for the last of the fire to burn down before going upstairs. She dug out a book and a flashlight before curling up in her favourite chair to read by the window. There was a flash of lightning moments before a crash of thunder rattled the window. She muttered under her breath, but otherwise ignored it.

Twenty minutes later she was scooping ashes into a metal bucket near the fireplace and thirty minutes later she was checking to make sure all the switches were set to off before letting herself through the staff only door to the basement. There was a candle and a box of matches on the top step. She tried to strike a match by feel when George laughed from somewhere below her.

“I could do that for you, you know.”

“Thanks,” she snarked, “but I happen to like having eyebrows.” She made sure the candle was lit before carefully going do the steep and narrow stairs. “How are you doing down here? Any water getting in?”

George yawned hugely, showing off a mouthful of razor sharp teeth. “Nope. That weeping tile you had installed really made a difference. I am warm and dry.”

“It’s getting a bit cold up there, think you could turn up the heat a little?”

George smirked, “Is there any of the boy’s baking left?”

Elly nodded.

George’s scales started to glow faintly, “I think arrangements could be made.”

Elly brought down all the leftover baking, a copper kettle full of water, a lemon ginger tea bag and a fancy cup and saucer that had been her aunt’s favourite before Ina had passed away a few years ago. The cafe used all antique china, but there were still a few special pieces that spent most of their time in the curio cabinet in the corner.

The kettle was set on the floor and George wrapped his tail around it. The floor and walls were all old masonry, so the risk of fire was low. The only furniture down here was a large wingback chair in brown leather, and a small ornate side table in carved from a single piece of dark walnut. The table currently had a camping LED lantern sitting on it. George didn’t like the light it gave, but Elly had put her foot down. She didn’t like the candle smoke.

She munched a slice of chocolate cranberry bread as she tossed baking at George. He caught them out of the air like a dog snapping at treats.

Around a mouthful of brioche, he asked, “Would you sleep down here tonight, Treasure?”

Elly froze, tea cup half way to her mouth. “I told you not to call me that,” she said in a deathly quiet voice.

George’s tail began to twitch in irritation. “And I have repeatedly told you it is a term of endearment.”

Elly shook her head, “I don’t believe you. When I came down here to tell you that Aunt Ina had died, you didn’t even know who I was talking about. I have a name, use it!”

George narrowed his eyes at her. Whatever he was going to say next was cut off by the sound of his tail knocking over the kettle. Elly, jumped out of the chair and backed away from the rapidly spreading puddle of boiling water. She snatched up the lantern and ran up the stairs. George shouted after her, “What’s the point in learning your name when you are just going to be dead in sixty years?”

She slammed the door at the top of the stairs and thundered up the next flight to her apartment on the second and third floor of the house. She paced agitatedly in her much smaller kitchen before using a match to light her stove and setting about making mac and cheese for supper. She still had some roast chicken that she could heat up to go with it, but right now she needed the comfort carbs.

Running a yarn store wasn’t exactly what she was expecting from her life. The store, or at least the property on which the store was built had been in her family for hundreds of years. It had burnt down, under mysterious circumstances in 1912, but had been rebuilt on the original foundations. In all that time, it had always been a wool store. It was the last house in town and always would be. It was built on the corner of a section of farmland that butted up against the town line.

The farm was currently being leased out as pasture. The tenants didn’t actually pay rent. They kept sheep and tended Elly’s flock with their own. The sheep supplied some of the wool for the store, but mostly they kept George fed. No one knew that though. Officially the area was just prone to sheep thieves.

Elly’s family did well. Their crops flourished. Their businesses succeeded. And every generation, one woman in the family would take over the yarn shop.

It was just bad luck that she had been the oldest unmarried girl in the family when Ina had died. It wasn’t even like she was single at the time. She had tried really hard to talk Jeremy into a quickie wedding when Ina got sick, but it hadn’t worked.

Then Ina was gone and her choices were either dump him or wait for the family curse to get rid of him some other way. She walked away from her job, her boyfriend and being one semester away from getting her Masters in Library and Information Sciences.

Her mother had told her it wasn’t that bad. Maybe she could sell off the yarn and turn the shop into a bookstore.

Ha!

Mom had married into the family. She didn’t know what was in the basement. Now Elly was trapped in this house without so much as a dog for company.

She turned off the stove and dumped out her pot of boiling water. Who knew when the power would be back on. There was ice cream in the fridge that needed eating up.

#exophilia #the captive

85 notes · View notes

dishefsllc · 7 days ago

Text

Do you have a commissary kitchen in North Carolina? Rent it out to food businesses, caterers, and meal prep services who need fully equipped, licensed kitchen spaces. List your commissary kitchen on Dishefs today and start connecting with local culinary professionals who are looking for reliable kitchen spaces to grow their businesses.

1 note · View note

piracytheorist · 4 years ago

Text

A Kiss for Good Luck (9/15)

Summary: So this is the story of one born lucky, and one born unlucky. Fate will keep making them cross paths, but is it to bring them together, or to test them? Captain Swan AU.

Rating: T (make sure you’re okay with the warnings on AO3)

Word count for this chapter: 3.1k (48k in total) AO3

Read from the beginning: Tumblr | AO3

Chapter 9: Emma Swan, October 19th 2015 – May 19th 2016

The kiss doesn't get deep, but Emma's insides are melting; damn it, it feels so good and he feels so sweet. She breaks the kiss, fearing she's already gone too red and hoping the cold lights around them won't show it.

He's looking at her, and she feels she'll have to run or she'll turn into a pool of goo right at his feet.

Thankfully, his eye catches something and he turns his head to the side. Emma turns as well, only to see a woman a few yards away, about their age, looking at him with a scorned expression.

Killian just shrugs at her, and the woman seems to scoff and turn her back at them.

He turns back to Emma. “Don't worry,” he says. "Wanna add me on Facebook? It's Killian Jones, if, if you're interested... we can share favourite songs."

Emma snorts. "Like we're in high school?"

He laughs, a bit awkwardly so. "I won't stalk you if you don't add me, just saying."

Emma smirks at him, then reaches into her belt bag and takes out her phone, which immediately slips from her fingers.

"Shit," she says, picking it up and gasping when she sees that the screen cracked a little. "Shit!"

"Oh." Killian bites his lip. "I feel as if I've caused that."

Emma shakes her head. "It's replaceable. Don't worry. Killian Jones, you said?"

He looks to be debating himself. But Emma quickly opens the app, finds him and adds him. "Friend request sent," she says. "So we can chat about hot, new releases," she says, only half joking.

"Hey," Ingrid calls at her. Emma turns to see Ingrid's eyes go from her to Killian.

"Coming," Emma says. "So, we'll keep in touch," she tells him, pointing at him with her phone.

For the first time in so long she finds herself hoping that this near stranger will actually respond.

“Who was that?” Ingrid says as they start walking to their rented car.

“He's Killian,” Emma says with an innocent smile.

“You know him?”

“No, actually. We just met.”

Ingrid's brows shoot up. “You were just kissing a guy you just met?”

Her tone isn't accusative, just curious. So Emma's smile widens and she says, “Yeah. Yeah, I-”

She's cut off by her own gasp when her ankle bends unexpectedly and she falls down. For one long second she feels cold sweat at the back of her neck; first her broken phone screen, now tripping on flat ground?

“Emma?” Ingrid is kneeling next to her, face full of worry.

“I'm okay,” Emma says, collecting herself.

“Sweetheart, did he give you something?”

Emma laughs, trying to break the tension despite that small but insistent piece of her mind that's still worried. “If you're referring to butterflies in my stomach, yes.”

“I'm serious.”

“I'm alright. I just... didn't step right. And I'm a bit tired, to be honest.”

Ingrid's face relaxes a bit. “You did dance a lot tonight. Are you sure you're okay?”

“Yes, Ingrid. We were just talking and then... kissing felt right.”

“In any case, perhaps you should let me drive.”

Emma's jeans got a bit dirty and she scraped her palm after falling, but they're too small to rival the amazing birthday night she just had.

She wakes up with a bit of a headache, ringing ears, and a sore throat. But that day it's the goodbye to Ingrid that takes priority.

Ingrid promises to do her best to come to Boston for Christmas. Emma holds back her tears, hugs Ingrid, then waves her goodbye as Ingrid boards her plane.

Emma sits back. And waits. And waits.

Her flight was supposed to have left only twenty minutes after Ingrid's – she had considered herself very lucky to have found two cheap flights so close to each other – but now it's been delayed for more than two hours, the waiting chairs full of exasperated passengers and too many tired toddlers.

The food isn't great, the air conditioning hits her a bit too much and she doesn't get much rest. The lines at passport control are long, and she's happy she decided to take just a cabin trolley and not have to wait at the baggage carousel. She's already too tired, her body stiff, and she regrets not asking Ruby to come pick her up as she waits for a taxi while it's raining and a little too cold outside.

The next morning she scrolls through the line of notifications from Ruby asking her again and again to wake up and tell her everything, and it's only then she sees that Killian has accepted her friend request.

And he's active now. She checks the time – it's afternoon there and a Sunday.

She gives herself ten minutes. Her hair is not cooperating and she smudges the eye pencil on her lower eyelid.

She just shakes her head. Maybe the connection will be bad enough that he won't be able to see that much detail.

She settles herself on her bed and takes five deep breaths before calling Killian on video.

It takes a bit too long for him to answer. Maybe she should have asked first?

Eventually, his face fills her screen, and her stomach is all in happy knots again.

“Good morning,” he says. “Or afternoon? Have you gone back yet?”

“Yeah,” Emma says, noticing her wide grin on her preview, “I arrived last night.”

“How was your trip?”

“A bit more tiring than I'm used to. But safe.”

“Than you're used to? You do it often?”

Maybe she's not ready to go fully into her history with Ingrid, but he seems to catch up with what little she shares. They talk more than just their favourite music. For now, it's food, and how they'll spend their Sunday, then Halloween and Christmas...

She doesn't realize a whole hour went by until Killian, seeming a bit conflicted, says he has to go eat. He's staying with his family, and his parents are 'already experiencing retirement by eating early'.

Emma laughs, swallowing her own bitterness. She keeps it at bay until the call ends, then she sighs, looking at her cracked, black phone screen.

He's with family. He doesn't have to move countries and choose whether to celebrate holidays with them or with friends.

“Ugh,” she tells herself. She doesn't actually know much. For all she knows, he's had it as bad as her.

Work isn't going well. There are enough cases to go by, but they wear her out every day. Ruby is busy with work and her new girlfriend, and David's mother has gotten sick and the Nolans don't have the time to invite Emma every Sunday anymore.

At least, she manages to talk to Killian twice a week. She knows she'd like to talk more often to him, but she's still a bit insecure. Not just about whether she's annoying him, but because she feels like an old pessimist again, and caring for this will only end up breaking her heart.

She can't help it, however, especially when half the time it's him calling her, staying up late because it's already evening when she finishes work, then they spend the next at least two hours equally listening and talking.

She still gets to see Ruby and the Nolans occasionally, and she still gets enough to go by. But her one constant these days is Killian.

Ingrid tells Emma that she can't issue a visa in time and she won't be there for Christmas. Emma knows her bank balance isn't enough to afford a last-time trip to Norway; the Nolans will spend the holiday with David's mother in a small town in Maine, and Ruby is taking Mulan to New York City. Bless their hearts, though, they offered. It was only the white lie that she found super cheap tickets to Norway that convince both Ruby and the Nolans to not cancel their plans.

She gets a gift from Ingrid – a hand-sewn sweater that apparently got coffee spilled on it during shipping and she has to wash it. It shrinks and the coffee stain hasn't left. She doesn't dare use the word 'luckily' to describe the fact that her other gifts weren't ruined. Killian sends her a collection of seashells, with a note telling her that he gathered them himself.

She spends the little money she kept aside on a grand meal and many boxes of pop-tarts for Christmas. She calls Killian as she eats one of them, teasing him about eating her favourite “sugar-coated sugar,” as he called them once.

It's still late for Killian, but he talks to her even longer this time.

“What about your family?” she asks.

“It's four in the morning, Swan. If anyone's awake they're probably sneaking around the kitchen for a 'very-late-night' snack.”

She's the one falling asleep to him talking to her that night.

Just five years ago, Emma would watch the ads on TV and everywhere else talk about “family time”, or a “time to share the love”, and they would wash over her like everything else did in her life. She was the one everyone else counted on to not take the days off during holidays. But since reconnecting with Ingrid and making new friends in Ruby and the Nolans, Emma got slowly used to being part of something. A family, a company, where she learned to appreciate that time again. A time when she would go shopping for someone other than herself, when it wouldn't be a given that she would work on a holiday, when she would expect it just for the extra time and coziness she would live with someone else.

Now the commercials hit as hard as they did when she was seventeen and homeless; eighteen and in prison; nineteen and alone.

Being loved and thought of has really spoiled her, hasn't it?

She barely has the heart to call Ingrid when it's the latter's time to change the year. They wish each other a happy new year, and she feels glad that there's a lot of celebration going on where Ingrid is, so Ingrid doesn't get the time to truly see how difficult it is for Emma, to see what she's missing and all for a stupid lack of money.

At eleven in her own time, Emma breaks down crying in her bed.

She feels so alone. The past few years of reconnection with Ingrid and having new friends seem to weigh nothing over the emptiness she feels now. She didn't even have the heart to decorate her house this year.

She lies curled up in bed, hoping she can fall asleep before she surely hears the neighbors start the countdown, but, of course, no such luck.

Instead, four minutes before midnight, she gets an sms from Killian. An sms?

Turn wifi on, he tells her.

Breathing shakily, her throat thick with sobs, she turns it on but is still surprised to immediately receive a video call from him.

She checks the time, and tiredly tries to do the math. It's four minutes to five in the morning there. What is he doing?

She accepts the call, and her first glimpse of Killian is his tired but smug face. As he gets a good look at her, though, his face falls.

“Oh, Swan...”

She bursts into sobs again. He doesn't speak, but from the few glances she gets of him until she calms down, she knows he's waiting patiently.

She wishes she could reach her arms into the screen. She knows that his would hold her back.

She knows.

She gets her breathing under control and she looks at him, wiping away her tears.

“Thank you,” she says, and he smiles softly.

Damn it, that smile. She almost starts crying again, but he takes pity on her and looks somewhere away.

“It's thirty seconds now. Do you want me to count with you?”

“Yes, please.”

He smiles again, still softly but a bit more cheerfully now.

The connection lags two seconds, according to her neighbors' countdown. But the two seconds between the cheers across the wall and Killian popping a confetti cannon in front of the camera are theirs and theirs alone.

“Happy New Year!” he says.

His smile is so bright. Her tear-stained face in the preview looks so out of place, it feels wrong.

“You stayed up,” she says, voice harsh from crying.

“I... woke up. I mean, I went to sleep a bit early, and even I would say two is early for New Year's, so I snuck in a few hours of sleep before the alarm went off.”

He did it for her.

How wrong is it to wish she could kiss him now?

Her words will have to do.

“Thank you. Thank you so much.”

“I wouldn't forgive myself if I let you change the year alone. Especially after you told me what you didn't tell your friends. Losing a bit of sleep is nothing.”

Her friends. He says it as if he's not one of them.

Well, he's not in that group of friends, but he belongs in that category.

Only that, though? Just a friend?

Once again, he stays up with her. He's properly prepared – snacks and music and lights and, well, soda, considering how late it is there – and she just feels stupid all she has is the sugar-coated sugar.

“Perhaps I chose the wrong flavor,” he says. “If I visit Boston one day you'll get me your favorites and I'll taste them all.”

Her heart flutters at the idea of him visiting. She's tempted to correct his 'if' with a 'when'. Because she wants him there. She wants it to be certain.

But she decides to keep it low for tonight. He already gave her the best surprise she could have had.

Perhaps she loves him.

But she's known better than to hang onto hope.

The last thing she remembers seeing is the view from his window, at the tiny show of the sky getting brighter.

The last thing she remembers hearing is him singing Auld Lang Syne.

None of them ask, and none of them organizes anything more, but their video calls become daily. Depending on Killian's schedule, of course, they talk from ten minutes to three hours at a time. Even on very busy days, they manage to sneak in at least five minutes of talking, even if it's just voice chat.

Gerda is having health issues, forcing Ingrid to not visit at all nor call often, and Emma's work is still hectic. She manages to meet Ruby for drinks or the Nolans for dinner, but it's not on a constant basis like it used to be.

The only constant in her life is coming back tired from work and talk to Killian, who will stay up and chat no matter how late it is for him.

And he once told her he's an early bird.

It feels silly, but Emma can't help thinking of it as a compromise he's making to himself for her sake.

Killian tells her about his childhood; about his mother dying, his father leaving, and then nearly losing himself after losing his brother as well. How getting adopted saved him.

Emma tells him about Ingrid saving her. How she took a disillusioned kid with no family and gave her love and a home.

She tells him about being alone at seventeen and leaning on the wrong person. But her admitting that she has done time comes differently.

He tells her about losing his first love and resorting to things he is not proud of, including getting himself into a relationship that he knew would hurt him.

“I've done some stupid things myself,” she tells him.

“Well,” he replies, “I have a criminal record.”

She shrugs. “So do I.”

He actually raises his eyebrow. “Well, you can say we're equal in that.”

“Mm. I've done time.”

“Oh. Okay. You win.” He seems super casual about it.

“You don't mind? That I've been in jail?”

“Well, did you kill or otherwise harm someone innocent?”

“No.”

“Then, if you've moved on, who am I to judge?”

“What did you do?”

“Hacking, breaking and entering...”

She was a thief herself, but she didn't expect to find such a kindred spirit in him in that way – as well. “What? What for?”

His brows furrow. “Nothing too dangerous, and I was too stupid to think rationally, and it was a very difficult time.” He pauses for a while, then looks at her seriously. “I was an alcoholic. I've been totally clean for about six months now. It had only lead me to make more stupid decisions.”

“Well, you're working through it, right?”

He smiles at her, that smile that always threatens to rip her to pieces. “Aye. I never believed it at first, but it gets easier.”

It's always easier when one is not soul-crushingly alone, she thinks.

She had underestimated him and how much he understood what being alone can do to someone. Conversation flows easier the more they talk, and in early May, he surprises her by telling her he's thinking about visiting her.

Emma immediately offers to let him stay with her.

She fakes a broken connection to recover from the smile he gives her. Jesus. How will she handle it when they're face-to-face?

They come to a mutual understanding; neither thought light of their first kiss, but both knowing of each other's pasts, they decide to take things especially slow.

She hasn't been so excited to count the days for something good since the first time Ingrid visited.

She drives her Bug to pick him up from the airport, but it breaks down midway there. A long string of curses and many calls to a service center later, she manages to send Killian a text letting him know she'll be late.

After a tow truck takes her car away for service, she takes a cab for the rest of the way to the airport, only to find that her message to Killian hasn't been received, and that his flight has just landed, nearly an hour late.

However, he looks fresh and cheerful when he exits arrivals. Even from afar, she can already feel his smile turning her knees into jelly. She steels herself to at least walk normally to him.

They embrace and it's as if a weight is lifted off her shoulders. And if she judged by his face, it looks the same for him.

His eyes trail to her lips, and she gives him a quick peck.

#Emma Swan #Captain Swan #captain swan ff #cs ff #ouat ff #akfgl #captain swan movie marathon #see this chapter doesn't have any warnings!#wow I managed that #still a bit of angst tho #you know how it goes #piracytheorist writes

15 notes · View notes

vanityloves · 4 years ago

Text

anyways im gonna listen to/read the fuckin...rise of the ogre shit bc ive been putting it off 🪓🥴 im gonna put stuff under the cut bc im gonna be TALKING n dont wanna make a new post everytime

piss

ok he performed for 2 pounds 50. which is basically $3 today i- well it was absolutely a power play on his father behalf that also had the promise of money so.

also lol he said Rejection fueled my ambitions which, yknow,, i already knew but it still hurts and i will continue to talk ab it xoxo

AH HELP. "...if ebay had been invented at the time he would've sold me online there and then,"

"man hands on misery to man, yknow"

THEN PROCEEDS TO CONNECT IT TO MUSIC/HIS CAREER. this man said :) the one thing i truly have a passion for. the one thing i fucking like.

oh yeah. bullied by students AND teachers.

oh god hes 42ish during this interview? ok.

the fuckin school bully saying he wouldve acted differently if he knew what hed become

getting called "faceache", then proceeds to call 2d that. jfc he really does just repeat what everyone says. really "treating others how i was treated/how they treat me"

maybe thats why? hes kinder to fans? bc :] you support me and like me so, ok ill return that energy

MURDOC GETTING HIS ASS BEAT N PARADING HOME LIKE WELL I WON BC 'I PISSED YOU OFF' SJDJD

a real rowdy boy. absolute nasty boy. fraud and arson... shooting ppls windows with his air pistols

black sabbath being a huge inspiration? fucking absolutely.

became a satanist n shit at age 16? "it fitted me like a glove" "heavy metal and devil worshipping became my favorite past times" ajsj funny that ppl in trying times often seek religion or following of some sort

heavy metal being his favorite, n loving the clash, while hannibals was more punk based

hannibal breaking murdocs nose for the 2nd and 3rd time for playing his music on hannibals turntable

he doesnt sound that bitter? ab hannibal? he doesnt sound incredibly fond but he talks ab how he got him into a lot of music. so, i imagine they we're a bit closer than i thought?

international baccalaureate in antisocial? anthropology?

MURDOC IS ACTUALLY SMART HE WAS JUST. NOT INTERESTED IN THE SUBJECTS? I GUESS? (also,,, he literally Built cyborg noodle and i think he had a PhD too lol. but its always nice to hear hes actually...yknow, interested or good at other things)

alright but murdoc having a fascination w/ other cultures - or at least some interests, that lead him to actually study the damn subject and "pass with flying colors"

'fuck college though. im gonna be a rockstar'

he sold his soul at 18ish? whenever the fuck he got kicked out but college was mentioned so my brain goes to 18ish idk

he lived with his father still and paid rent via low paying jobs one including 'part time dressing as santa'

help he was ab to take a Personal Job for quick cash and uhh well, "still made me call him sir though" he really said 20 dollars is 20 dollars, huh "that story was totally true"

alright, 1997,,,

2d stuff

loves zombie stuff? thats really cute, and is freaked out by the way they move. god he rambles

both he and murdoc are horses in the chinese zodiac

[[jfc ok if the official shit compares them a lot i understand why ppl ship them but Dont. its a narrative foil and that doesnt always mean Romance jfc.]]

SUMTHINK.

truly... a lil stinker. super cute bouncing baby and a "bit thick" which is stull so endearing to me. hes just a happy man!

excitable 10 year old and would dance around his room

jfc the fact he has normal/caring parents. i kinda forget how opposite hes supposed to be from murdoc but i think thats another thing jsjsysg (murdoc said why isnt my tragic story making me famous why does he get to be the Star. no wonder he acts like a loon)

i still dont get how gettin bonked by a tree branch made him go bald and also turn his hair blue

big tiddy nurse mommy,,,

went to the same school as The Cure and got decent grades despite hittin the noggin quite hard. WANTED TO BE A STORM CHASER... OMG??

oh thats really cute, hed bond with his dad by building keyboards toegther 🥺💕

messed around with paints and graffiti? artistic king

MURDOC AGAIN: QHDJ 'VILLANOUS' GANG HELP

oh yeah d day...new instruments, new band, new singer - and 'had to be the best or no dice' and absolutely CONFIDENT that his songs were bangers ajsjd

but on that same note, had absolute faith (or desperate) in 2d which i love

ransacked the fucking music shop jdjdj and 2d said he was Just Standing There behind the counter the whole shift hdhdh

"thats when your eye came out, yeah" "yeah!-" HELP WHY DOES HE SOUND SO HAPPY AB IT ?? yes he said ut hurt but he sounds...ok

jfc murdoc ragdolling this poor mf around. dunking him and slapping him around. actually? so incredibly terrible and abusive and i hate him for that 🔫 im sorry 2d stans. we dont condone that behavior here ong.

how and why the FUCK did 2d's parents allow that fucker near their child after that i??? help. wtf. his moms a nurse why didnt she just have murdoc sit in plain view of other people. god damn.

2d flying out the window n hitting the curb "whoops"

"just two black holes...[ah] it looked great...a blue hair, blacked eyed GOD- the girls would go wild-" "pretty boy looks" ???? HELP. HE DOESNT GO LIGHT ON THE COMPLIMENTS, HUH

RUSS TIME

oh yeah, he straight up kiddnapped this man help. idk how he managed that, russ is a Big Man??

AND MURDOCS MUSIC WAS SO FUCKING SEXY GOOD that russel said hm alright ill stay, :] out ifbhis owm free will im screaming.

"oh this is one of them febreeze commercials" "uh . yeah sure. *murdoc turning on his Sick Tunes*" but that either means? it was just his guitar playing the convinced russ? unless he and 2d recorded sumn?

"2d was the looks, murdoc the brains, then russel truly was the heart"

'while 2d and murdoc liked music, this man was a MUSICIAN' god fucking bless this book holy shit ny man russ getting some respect. he said back hurts from carrying this band.

murdoc basically heard this guy had big trauma that gave him So Many Skills n said "thats what i want" ok idk thats actually really? inch rest ting to me. seems that murdocs fine handing out compliments but i guess that where his charisma really helps out yeah?

"he was going to be in my band whether he liked it or not" ...murdoc-

HELP. 2D IS LIKE BRO GO ON IM LISTENING 🥺 despite hearing the story 50-60 times and murdoc said fuck off you lil shit.

ok irrelevant but i love his voice! its super comforting n nice to listen to 🥺

HELP MURDOCS SO BITTER. "NOTHING THAT HAPPENS TO US IS NORMAL" WELL YEAH. THIS IS TRAUMA CENTRAL.

idk how/why he sucked up all his friends souls though ... how are they all possessing the same person. they said "its my turn on The Russ"

DELL IS HIS ACTUAL, LITERAL SOULMATE...KING...😭

went to a private school,,, and was already possessed? and the thing where he gets bigger and smaller is a reoccurring thing?

was in a coma for 4 years?

hiphop machine...time and history...the ultimate set i guess.

his knowledge was infinite and hes a "Renaissance man" hes so fucking smart our king. jack of all trades but a master of drums. he said i know im good and what of it

PAULA.

HELP. HE RMBRS THE STALL: CUBICAL NUMBER 3 🥴 IF I DO RECALL 🤤

yes russel our king. fuck up his nose 5 more times. probably stunted his growth too. he shrunk after russ gave him a wallop im sure

why dies paula sound like tracer overwatch

also only dated 2d for 2 months before joining the band?

HELP SHE REALLY WAS THE FIRST MURDOC FUCKER: "but when i saw murdoc with his thick greasy hair, green teeth and yellow skin i thought 'oh this is the ine for me!'" "OH HES SUCH A DANDY-" HELP ME IM HQJDHD

sick in the head...like i want to hurt people help girl. shes fucking Crazy. but she rly said damn i didnt hear back from him again 😭 and my purse is gone JSHHD

MURDOC: SHE WAS DEPRESSINGLY UGLY *still fucked her*

NOODLE TIME

"small japanese person!"

2d: we werent gorillaz until noodle arrived!

im dying the reason he chose gorillaz. 'swinging through the jungle baring my ass'

noodle really said "im just happy to be here" and she balanced everyone out 😭 "she gave off pure love and the fact that she could laugh at murdoc REALLY helped too" RUSS... IS BABY

JFC MURDOCS SO FUCKING CONFIDENT IN THIS BAND IM LIVING FOR THAT. HE SAID YOU WANT US SO BAD IT MAKES YOU LOOK STUPID. THE CHARISMA

2d rambling ab some girl he met and "ssSs" "whats the s stand for hawhaw" "i dont know!".

THE RECORD LABEL GUY.

one song is all it took i ❤ good for them

just murdoc talking ab the party that they threw for thier deal and saying "you dont know how much of a dick i felt like [when carrying one of those huge checks]" like oh thats whatll make you a dick? alright.

A FOOD FIGHT THAT WENT SO HARD THAT IT KNOCKED 2DS TONSILS OUT? WHAT THE FUCK

ahshdj damon and murdoc not getting along bc of Rival Band One Uppery + damon calling murdocs cuban heels crap since ge wore steel ones with gold spurs.

MURDOC FEELIN EMBARRASSED BC HES 'QUITE PROUD OF HIS SHOES'

but the band and damon getting over music and their ambitions and became a "paternal figure"

HELP MURDOC SAID AWIOGA @ RACHEL WHICH MADE HER THROW HER DRINK IN HIS FACE AND SPLIT FROM 2D. kinda sad actually, she said i still like 2d but murdoc kinda ruined it by trying to get it in with me, it put a strain in our relationship :/ oh god murdocs That Dude

nov 31 1998: started recording :]

40 tracks that got cut down to 15 holy shit

KONG STUDIOS 🤲

hooking up cameras in every room ejdjsu

webby artist of the year in 2006? holy shit

noodle learning ab kong studios omfg

JFC. YES I KNEW KONG WAS BUILT ON/IN A CEMETERY BUT I DIDNT KNOW PPL FOR THE FUCKING PLAGUE WHERE THROWN THERE HDJD

built in 1739?

the ghost of the first owners ghost still roams around in the kitchen in the early hours and moans 'aaa glass of water'

theres some rotting bullshit near the studios and in the summer its fucking TERRIBLE

the former owners were a biker gang, and they all died in a fire

murdoc said this place has bad vibes. i want it.

grim weather

the building feels impossible to escape from huHgg

#rip lol i feel annoying but my blog my rights ig #brainworm ivy #gorillaz rambles

15 notes · View notes

scarletfish · 5 years ago

Text

don’t worry, you will

Summary: Two weeks ago, Juno was engaged. Now he's quarantined with a complete stranger who can't operate a microwave and has no sense of personal space. And they were quarantined (oh my god, they were quarantined!)

Pairings: Peter Nureyev/Juno Steel, background Vespa/Buddy in future chapters Word Count: 3000 Chapters: 1/5 Warnings: canon-typical alcohol abuse, depression AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24016468/chapters/57779629

A/N: Thanks @space-city-traffic for the prompt, and @pipis-pods for the suggestion that Juno and Vespa communicate and become friends

Chapter 1

Diamond paid you $1520 . Your Venmo balance is now $1520.

Fiancee. Rent. They’re the first and last things on Juno’s mind. He realizes he’s been sitting in the parking garage for over ten minutes, idling and staring at the alert on his cracked phone screen. He turns the car off.

His car with a long crack in the windshield. Everything is goddamn broken. He gets out of the car, pauses. Gets back in the car.

This calls for a detour.

***

Twenty minutes later, Juno is ready to take his newly acquired liquor to his room so he can introduce it to his newly acquired headache, but he still has one more stop to make.

Hyperion Apartment Complex twists eight stories high, and the tacky light grey brick facade is almost reflective at night. Semi-nice rooms in a mostly bad part of town. Hyperion city makes cheap look beautiful, the way fast-food commercials brush up plastic meat with shoe polish and glue. Diamond had always hated it.

Juno shoulders into the leasing office with two large grocery bags. The front desk is empty, and everything is fading or peeling. He rings the bell and sits on a peely, faded chair to wait. Might as well put the whisky to good use.

Taking a swig, he looks out the floor-length windows to the filmy outdoor pool. (Rita swears security fished a body out of it a couple years ago. Juno told her she needs to stop watching so much Law and Order.) For the hundredth time, he wonders if this is even worth it. She's going to ask questions, it's inevitable, and he doesn't know how to answer them. Doesn't know the answers himself.

He starts poking holes in the plastic grocery bags with his thumbnail. Takes another swig. Then a couple more-

“Boss!” Rita bobs into view with her tablet in hand, Cheeto dust on her bright purple jacket.

Since the police force scandal, Juno runs a small PI business from a shitty downtown office, which is where he met Rita. To this day Juno’s not sure how or when she wormed her way into a position he wasn't even offering. He’s also not sure when she sleeps. As far as he knows, the part time leasing office representative is her third job- she also does... something with computers.

“Rita,” swig, “I need a favor.” The shorter woman has already started talking, anticipating their usual back and forth.

“And I know I ain’t supposed to call you that here, but you are my boss, and I don’t think my other bosses-- wait, huh?” Confused by the change in script, Rita eyes the half-empty bottle of whisky in Juno’s hand. Her eyes jump to the clock.

“Mista Steel, are you okay?” One pro of hiring Rita: she’s very perceptive. Con of hiring Rita: way too perceptive.

“Fine. I need you to check someone out for me.” Rita’s eyes immediately light up.

“Oooooh, boss, another case already? Is it gonna be as exciting as the one with Mista Prince Julian? Are we gonna get to travel? I’ve always wanted to go somewhere exotic, like Maine, or Florida-” Juno cuts her off before she can get going.

“He was a dramatic politician with a cheating husband who ended up dead, Rita. Not everything is a Netflix rom-com.”

There's a bitterness in his tone that might not have been there a week ago, but the smaller woman doesn't notice. She's already sunk into her desk chair, head propped in both hands, sighing dreamily as she swivels back and forth. Time to bring out the big guns.

Juno reaches into his shopping bag and pulls out the chips, dangling them in front of Rita’s heart eyes. She snatches. He raises them just out of reach.

“Focus. It’s not a case. There’s this guy I need you to find. I’ve got name and place of employment. Can you do it or not?”

Rita pouts. “But boss,” she whines, “you don’t even need me for that, you can just Google his name like I showed you. I thought we were gonna do something exciting.” Juno pinches the bridge of his nose.

“Yeah, well, Google isn’t gonna cut it this time, because,” I wasn’t really paying attention when you showed me that, “because, he’s highly secretive. And, that’s potential name. And potential place of employment, my source isn’t very,” he almost chokes on this last word, “reliable .”

The gears start turning. “Secretive… hang on Boss, is this another high-profiler? Have you been holding out on me?” She lowers her voice (not much). “Boss, this is about a case, right, you just can’t tell me because they might have tapped the phones!?”

What… who does she think they are? Juno drops his head into his hands to rub his temples. When Juno doesn't immediately contradict her, Rita continues in her stage whisper.

“Don’t worry Boss, Rita’s got your back! I’ll have this secretive criminal tracked down before they even know we’re on their case!”

“It’s not a case.”

“I’ll be as quiet as… as those monsters in The Quiet Place! Except they ain’t so quiet when they’re attacking people, but neither are we when we’ve got the bad guys cornered and we’re ready to take them out-”

Besides the recent political debacle with Julian and his missing husband (that one was a high-paying scrap tossed Juno’s way by an old friend), most of the cases he’s hired for are affair investigations and insurance fraud.

He’s certain neither he nor Rita have “taken anyone out” ever ... unless you count that time he tried to teach Rita to drive stick shift. Or the Hot Tub Debacle. But those were accidents.

Juno slings the bag of snacks onto her desk. “Just find out whatever you can about the guy, okay?”

“Fresh shrimp flavored?” Rita squeals, “Aw, you’re the best Mista Steel!” She digs into the large bag and talks around a mouthful of orange crumbs while Juno tries not to vomit in his mouth.

“Shipping ish ‘aking fore’er wi’ this crathy thirus thing goin’ gon,” she swallows, “speaking of, have you been watching the news Boss?”

“Every morning with my sunrise yoga. Listen Rita, I’ll check in with you tomorrow, okay?” Juno’s limbs are… heavy, suddenly. Maybe it’s the alcohol, maybe it’s because he hasn’t slept well in that last, oh, ten years... or maybe it’s the weight of that single text, sitting in his phone for almost a week now. Looking at Rita, he thinks of telling her everything. Just spilling his guts right onto the scuffed linoleum floor.

The engagement. The text. The Craigslist ad. The man he’s supposed to be meeting tomorrow.

Rita’s still chattering on, and her voice cuts through the haze. “-but you never told me the name of Mister Criminal?” She happily shoves another handful of chips in her mouth. “Oooo, or is it so secret you need to write it down on a piece of paper and then I can read it and eat the paper-”

“Peter Ransom. Might’ve done a job for Vallas Vicky’s hotel recently.” That’s all he knows. “And he’s not a criminal Rita, he’s just a normal guy.”

Rita’s dialogue wanders around to closing borders and something about Italy, but Juno’s already moving towards the door (it shuts a bit harder than he intended). He doesn't know why he's so upset with Rita, when all she's done is try to cheer him up and offered her help. He makes his way back to the parking garage elevator. It smells like cotton candy vape and something vaguely mossy. A group of ragged kids is flying down the incline around the corner on penny boards.

Juno takes another swig of whiskey in front of the chrome doors and jams the elevator button about twenty times before he remembers.

Of course the fucking elevator is down for the weekend.

He wants to sit at the bottom of the stairwell and drink himself into oblivion. He want to wallow in this feeling for a moment, the feeling of the universe kicking him while he’s down.

Instead, he drags himself to the stairwell, drudges down the second floor hall, and practically collapses through the door.

An eager chittering greets him from the cage in the living room. “Hey, Smallfry.”

Diamond wouldn’t go near the ball of fluff (“It’s so dirty Juno,”) so when they moved in together eight months ago, the rabbit was a launching point for multiple arguments. Juno drops his grocery bag of Timothy hay and carrots by the cage, not bothering to stash it in the kitchen.

He pointedly doesn’t look in the smaller second bedroom that Diamond claimed as an office space. He doesn’t look at their shared bed either, because the sight of the rumpled sheets will just wrap around his ribcage and squeeze and squeeze until he can’t breathe again and everything is spinning-

Juno takes another swig and collapses on the couch. And then, because he wants to hate himself a bit, he thumbs through his phone to his fiancee’s most recent text. No matter how often Juno reads it, it never changes.

3:56AM: Diamond

Juno. I’ll forward my part of two month’s rent before the month is over. That should be long enough for you to find a temporary roommate, at least until the lease expires at the end of the year. Do what you’d like with the furniture.

Ex-fiancee.

***

Juno bolts upright, disoriented and confused. The decorative couch pillows left lines on his cheek, and he’s nursing the beginning of a monster headache. He gropes around for his phone. 7PM. It’s only been a few hours.

It feels like days. Months. Years.

Juno shivers. He left the door to the porch open, and a cool fall breeze is raising goosebumps on his arm. A nearby screen door slams, and heavy boots tread the balcony next door. “Hey piss-bucket, you been day drinking again?”

The green-haired nuisance next door is only loud when she chooses to be, so Juno knows she's hoping to stir him out for a cigarette or two. He wonders briefly when Buddy will be back. Vespa only gets this chatty when her partner is gone for long periods of time on work trips.

He toys with the idea of stepping out. Hey Vespa. How're the axe-throwing students? (She refuses to tell him what she does for work, so Juno assigns her a new job every night.)

She’ll respond with something like, Great. If your failed PI business finally tanks, we could always use some new targets.

Maybe if Juno gets drunk enough, he’ll tell her why he’s not planning on ever being sober again. Tell her that he’s such a fucked up human, his fiancee ghosted him three weeks before the wedding with no forwarding address. Over text.

She’ll have to laugh at that. It’s the goddamn joke of the century, and Juno’s the punchline.

He jumps violently when his phone starts ringing. “I know you can hear me, Steel,” Vespa sneers from her balcony.

Juno groans at the name lighting up his screen. He was wrong- he’s not the punchline. Fucking Mick Mercury is.

He almost sends it to voicemail, but at the last second he crosses to the balcony door, wrestles the screen closed as Vespa flips him off (“What, too busy getting wasted alone?”) and finally slides the door shut with a bang.

He leans against the wall by Smallfry’s cage.

“Whaddya want, Mick.” Juno’s brain struggles to keep up with the excited babble streaming out of the phone.

“Juno! That hit we got on your listing? The Peter guy? He messaged again!”

No one’s outright asked Juno, “Did your fiancee ghost you three weeks before your wedding over text?”, so he’s not lying to his friends, per se. He just isn’t ready for the inevitable string of I-told-you-so’s from Rita and Vespa, who have hated Diamond since the moment they waltzed into Juno’s life ten months ago and stomped all over his heart with their designer boots.

Mick, bless him, is blissfully ignorant of Juno’s recent string of unfortunate life events. He’s blissfully ignorant about most things, actually, but his unending stream of well-intentioned business ventures mean he knows how to advertise.

Juno isn’t sure who Craig is, or why he keeps lists of random shit online. All he knows is that he can't afford rent on his own, and Mick owed him a favor. A lot of favors.

“Let me guess, he's found something better and he's not interested anymore.”

Fuck Diamond for putting him in this situation. Even if he deserves it. Even if he should’ve known better.

“No, Juno! He says, and I quote,” he clears his throat and reads dramatically, “‘Juno, would it be possible to move our rendezvous sooner? Due to personal issues I find I’m in need of accommodations a bit sooner than expected, and your ad did say the room was available post haste.’” Mick drops his voice back to normal. “He wants to meet sooner!”

“Yeah, I got that Mick. ‘Post haste’?”

“I went for a 'trustworthy but not desperate' vibe, ya feel?” Juno is quickly wishing he read and approved the ad before Mick posted it across the internet in his name.

“All right Mick, whatever, sure, just let me know when you set it up for.” There’s a long, telling silence. “...Mick?”

“Okay so here’s the thing,” and with that, Juno knows the universe is screwing with him again, “I kinda already told him you could meet him tomorrow morning? At eight? And I gave him the address of the apartment?” His words get faster with each blow.

“You gave him the address? Goddamn it Mick, I thought we were meeting for coffee somewhere first so I could make sure he’s not some wackjob who wants to hack me to pieces and wear my skin as a suit!” Juno’s less worried about becoming a potential skin suit and more worried about waking up before noon with the spectacular hangover he’s got planned, but he’s not going to tell Mick that.

“Oh Juno, you’re so,” he chuckles, “you’re hilarious! Skin suit. Ha! You’ve been watching Law and Order with Rita again, haven’t you?” Juno resists the urge to slam his head into the wall and end it all.

“Anyways, get some sleep tonight and make a good impression on our friend tomorrow! I’ll pass him your number. And hey, maybe you could mention my new Hair-in-a-Can line? One good turn and all that. The recall went real smooth with the last one!”

“Mick, hang on, listen to me-” Juno’s cut off by a loud crash in the background.

“Sorry Juno, gotta go, the cans are a bit more,” a high-pitched scream, “uh, high-pressured than we expected, good luck pal, don’t be a stranger!”

The line goes dead. Perfect. Juno eyes Smallfry.

“Not like I have anything worth stealing, huh? Unless he deals in small, neurotic rabbits.” He restocks Smallfry’s hay before he’s too drunk to remember. Vespa's convinced that a hungry rabbit might be inclined to chew through the apartment wall and go on a carnivorous hunting spree.

“My last roommate had a rabbit. It got mad when their sister’s rabbit got a nicer cage, so it chewed straight through the bars and,” she snapped her fingers, “chomp chomp. Nothing left but rabbits feet.”

“Bullshit.”

“What are you Steel, the rabbit whisperer? Okay, maybe it was a gerbil! Whatever, same difference.”

Then he grabs an extra blanket from the hall closet (it really is starting to get cold), two bottles of liquor, and the TV remote and settles onto the couch for another long night.

***

The best mornings are the mornings Juno wakes up still drunk and pleasantly fuzzy. This is not one of those mornings.

His alarm is playing quite loudly, meaning it’s probably been going off for quite some time, and two things happen in quick succession as his brain painfully struggles towards consciousness.

He rolls over in bed to grab at his phone and realizes the bed is actually a narrow couch. He hits the floor with a heavy thump . He's blindly swiping at the floor trying to turn the damn thing off, ignoring the nagging anxiety that he’s forgotten something important... There!

Blearily, he reads the alarm label… “SOUR CREAM.” What?

There’s a sharp knock at his door. His tipsy brain stumbles around in tight circles. He set that alarm weeks ago while cooking… never bothered to re-label it.... that doesn’t explain…

A second set of knocking, more forceful this time, accompanied by a muffled voice.

It’s 7:50AM and he honestly can’t remember why he’s supposed to be waking up or who could possibly be at the door. No, wait… he vaguely remembers…

Mick. The phone call. The desperate roommate.

All at once, Juno’s certain that he doesn’t need a roommate. It’s only four months after all, and the idea of a complete stranger snooping around his stuff, asking questions about his life, getting tangled up with his job, makes Juno’s skin crawl. It’s not worth the money. He can figure that out… somehow.

It’s decided. He’ll ignore the knocking. This Peter guy will eventually give up, he’ll tell Mick to take down the advertisement, and he’ll figure something else out.

Then a noise outside the door makes his blood run cold. He knows that giggle.

“Sorry Mista Criminal, lemme just, ngh-hungh, try that key.” Rita, traitor secretary and ex-best friend, is using her spare key to let this man into Juno’s apartment. The stranger’s muffled voice leaks through the door. “Could you maybe...?”

There’s no time to think. Juno’s only on the second floor, there are bushes underneath the window. If he can get out quick enough, he might be able to avoid a meeting altogether-

“Thank you Rita, you are an absolute gem, and twice as beautiful if I might add...” the door clicks open.

Might’ve been able to. If he’d moved a little quicker.

“Hello! Juno, I presume?”

Fuck.

#peter nureyev #juno steel #jupeter #the penumbra podcast #quarantine au #omg they were roommates #this turned into a Whole Thing #multi-chapter #Juno Steel and the Series of Unfortunate Life Events

23 notes · View notes

h-e-l-l-b-r-o-k-e · 5 years ago

Text

Stains on the Memory [B. Hargrove x you]

Request: @awildkaitlynhasappeared

Inspiration: Disintegration by The Cure

Word Count: 2421 Warnings: profanity and angst.

Written Date: 8/6-24/2019 Posted Date: 8/24/2019

The new Lego set includes too many pieces to count and a manual too difficult for the four-year-old to read. The pictured King’s Castle on the box brings wonder, but not enough for the stubborn boy to stick to the instructions or ask for help. Either way, blocks lock on together by able hands and his imagination runs far too wild to be tamed by boring words and numbers.

It wasn’t playful excitement that had him push past his dad and run past you, with your hands on your hips as your eyes flew from him to Billy, but rather a desperate eagerness to escape what is now taking place on the other side of his bedroom door.

“You forgot Jason in your car for two hours!”

Your muffled words pierce through Jason’s crayola-scribbled bedroom door. That tone in your voice is always reserved just for his father; it’s never been directed at your son even when he’s worn your patience thin by throwing a tantrum when Looney Tunes hadn’t been on TV while your feet were sore from wearing pumps at work all day.

Jason knows that this is only the beginning of an endless night.

The wires in his brain steer him to focus on the Legos he had been begging his parents to buy ever since he’d first seen the commercial on television. He’d asked and asked and asked but the answer was always a prolonged no.

There were far too many excuses his parents would give him that it was tough for his little head to wrap around the truth. The pieces proved hazardous for a child his age, you’d tell him. They weren’t sold in the stores in their town, Billy’d tell him. They were sold out last time you checked and were waiting for a restock, but, in reality, the price had driven you away. Billy simply just hadn’t seen any around―not that he was actually looking.

“Don’t tell me he was safe! You ditched our son to have drinks with fucking Perry!”

But, what had been the truth? After being strapped in with a seat belt with no form of entertainment except for watching strangers stroll by the sidewalk in front of the bar every now and then, Billy had returned to the car with a quick stride and a nervous twitch to his eyebrow. No apology. No explanation to the boy who was promised his father wouldn’t be gone long. Nothing that made any bit of sense except the drive to Target, and finding out that Legoland sets hadn’t been in some faraway land like Jason had been growing to believe and that his father had no problem pulling out a wad of bills from his pocket to pay for it. So why did his parents lie?

The knight figure has quickly become the favored piece as Jason mounts it on a horse, charging it against another figure he decided was the enemy in this private battle. A whoosh pushes past thin lips as the impact between plastic erupts, the enemy crashing against the carpet a few feet away.

Brain waves continue to buzz through his trickling veins in a vain attempt, like palms pumping against a dwindling chest, to keep his spirit from retreating into a cocoon. It seems to be working as the proud digits on his bedside table flick through the evening even though his heart isn’t fully invested in the activity.

“I didn’t mean to―”

“And yet you decided to get behind the wheel with our four year old son while who knows how drunk you were―”

“I wasn’t fuckin’ drunk…now will you keep your fucking voice down?”

Jason doesn’t know that his toy collection is decent at best. He has yet to start Kindergarten, so he doesn’t know many children his age to compare. The only children he knows belong to Billy’s co-workers down at the mechanic shop and yours from the restaurant you waitress at, but even then, most of the kids are too old to want to play with him whenever they visit.

If only he was old enough to read all the clear signs right in front of him. His parents are living paycheck to paycheck, and they just don’t have the heart to tamper his blissful ignorance with such a heavy burden.

“No, because it’s always the same thing with you! Is that what was normal when you were growing up? Butter up the kid with gifts bought with rent money every time your dad screwed up?!”

Small fingers loosen around the knight in matte armor and it’s white horse, falling out of Jason’s clutch. His sleeveless forearms rise past the Hulk logo printed across his chest as his palms cup his ears.

Your rambling is long and far too scrambled for Jason, yet certain words are stressed enough to slither down the hallway, slip through the cracks of the bedroom, and nail your sole pride and joy. Even when he doesn’t fully understand why these words hurt him.

The mention of possible family members who never call nor visit is part of the void that breathes between his fragile shoulders. He only had pictures tucked away under his parents’ bed in some weathered album. The faces had names he often forgot, and some even had titles of relation, but that’s about the extent of the knowledge you indulged him in. It hurt you too much to go any further and explain why your and Billy’s little family lived states away from everyone, but you handle it better than Billy who only ever changes the subject with a flick of his eyes whenever your boy asks about the redheaded women who’re pictured with an older man with a mustache who oddly resembles his father.

The photograph had been hidden in the last page of the photo album in which Jason had discovered on his own after flipping through the empty pages. The expressions of the three mysterious figure are anything but happy, yet the women do not send shivers crawling up his spine like the stern-looking man does. Jason knows he doesn’t like him, whoever he may be.

“Why don’t you just come out with it and say what you really mean?”

Behind the door, with ears taped closed by stiff fingers and eyes sewn shut by quaking muscles, Jason isn’t aware that Billy’s slammed a palm against the kitchen counter, nostrils flared and protruding vein on the side of his jugular, nor that you’ve merely dismissed a flushed Billy with nothing more but the shake of your head and an apologetic frown etched on your weary face.

Jason opens his eyes and drops his fingers, kneading the fibers of the carpet for a moment, when his bedroom door opens and your bare feet slip through the crack.

Standing before him with the doorknob pressed against the lumbar of your spine as your hands rest on the bronze, you don’t look a day over twenty-two, perhaps you even look a little younger. But, not to your son’s untrained gaze. To him, you and Billy look like just any other boring adult who has presumably completed high school, gotten their degree, and are now living their best course.

Instead, you and Billy are thousands of miles away from those who were meant to support and love you unconditionally, family and even friends alike. You both packed up whatever you could fit in the Camaro on a school night, cashed out whatever savings were available, and set out on a journey to Billy’s hometown.

Your knees sink onto the floor beside your little boy and you look at the mess of scattered miniature blocks. When you pick up a stray Lego and attach it to the clump in front of Jason, he speaks up, “Are you taking the toy back?”

“No,” you shake you head, “It’s yours, baby.”

You envelop him in your arms and kiss his curly crown. “This is the one you’ve wanted?” you ask even though you already know by the amount of begging he squeezed out of his lungs the past month.

“Mmhmm,” Jason nods against your sternum.

He pulls away after another second or so, peering up at you through curls that fall over his forehead. “Are you still mad at dad?”

A little bit, you think. Frustrated, definitely. It’s no longer about the money, especially not after walking in on Jason playing with the guilt-tripped gift. Picking up a few extra shifts is worth it if it means you can pull a few more grins out of Jason. But, no, the frustration comes from watching Billy constantly stomp on egg shells when it comes to being a father.

By no means are you a supermom―you’re still learning how to parent every single day―but at least you aren’t forgetting about your precious baby in the backseat of a car just to abandon responsibilities for a few hours. No, you’ve been holding it together since the minute you sat in the passenger seat and Billy shifted the gear back in Hawkins. It just seems that no matter how much you and Jason mean to Billy, it’s in his nature to rebel in some form―even when he knows the guilt is only a step away.

The acts that keep him from conforming into a father he’d wished he had as an adolescent could be something as mundane as bringing home a carton of low-fat milk when you had specifically said two-percent twice before. Billy just couldn’t get it right, and you didn’t know if it was somehow on purpose or not.

Before you could respond to Jason’s question, Billy enters. Ruby no longer rushes up his neck nor speckles across his cheeks in angry splotches.

Billy’s thick eyelashes flutter towards you and Jason, and he knows that you have every right to feel as you do, to yell at him as you did, and walk away before the argument could escalate to places he doesn’t want to imagine. And, he knows that you had just been a hairbreadth away from speaking it into existence, that Billy had inherited some of the qualities that made him hate his own father in the first place. He doesn’t think he could ever handle that.

He kneels down near the two of you, tucks a loose strand behind your ear, and ruffles Jason’s fluffly head of hair. “Hey buddy, you wanna continue reading the Hulk?”

Billy’s never been a fan of comic books, but Jason enjoyed the noises, the voices, and sometimes the acting that Billy did when he read to him. Max had given her older step-brother a few of her old copies before he left as a gift to her future niece or nephew she’d probably never get to know. She’s just another faceless shadow that will haunt every dark corner Jason comes across.

Your boy shakes his head and reaches out for the blocks he had formed to resemble what he thinks is a fort. “I just want to play.”

Jason goes to pick up the knight with the horse as Billy’s fingers caresses your knuckles before holding your hand in his own. Your gaze meets Billy’s, and somewhere in the blue of his pupils he’s apologizing without further dragging Jason into the mess. You nod and give him a small smile, hoping that Billy can see that you’re sorry too.

The King’s Castle box lays on the carpet a few feet away. Billy reaches for it and pulls out the instructions. “You want mommy and me to help you?”

“Yeah!” It’s the best idea Jason’s heard all day.

You glance back at Jason’s clock. It’s almost seven and you haven’t prepared anything since you’ve gotten a call by Gwen who told you she’d seen Jason in the car by himself in front of Stokey’s, Billy’s and his co-workers’ place to meet. By the time you’d gotten there, Billy and Jason had already left. “What about dinner?”

“I’ll call Domino’s in a bit,” Billy says as he reads some of the instructions.

You pinch Jason’s cheek then begin to gather the stray pieces that surround his bent knees. “You wanna help me get all the pieces together, hmm?”

Soon, all the blocks except for the yellow figures lie in a pile between the three of you as Billy begins describing the pieces needed to begin building the foundation of the kingdom.

You both know that there will be more bumps down the road, even Jason knows these moments don’t last forever. In the following years, Jason will realize the truth, in which imperfections haven’t expanded as he’s aged but that they’ve been sprinkled all over his home all along, waiting to finally be uncovered one by one.

Jason’s grin grows when Billy makes the horse gallop, letting out a horrendous neigh in the process and prompting you to jokingly throw a Lego or two at his head.

Happiness envelops the three, but that cannot be said for tomorrow or even next week without spilling a lie. Something will happen to drag everyone down, and it’ll be up to them to build everything up again. But this, this memory is engraved and will forever stay the same among stains that cannot be scrubbed off.

A/N: Boy, I really lagged on this one, but I’d say I’m pretty happy with the outcome. Leave some love.

#Billy Hargrove #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove x you #billy x reader #stranger things #st imagine #stranger things imagine #angst #dad!billy

340 notes · View notes

thenocturnalmushroom · 5 years ago

Text

Time to Heal - AshEiji (Chapter Two)

Chapters: 6/? Fandom: Banana Fish Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Ash Lynx/Okumura Eiji Characters: Ash Lynx, Okumura Eiji Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Fluff, Lots of fluff, Angst/Comfort, Lots of comfort, Healing, Mentions of past child abuse, Happy Ending

Read on AO3

Eiji felt very tempted to throw his phone to the other side of his small apartment when the alarm started to ring. But, even only half conscious, his mind was awake enough to remind him how much it would cost him a new one - a little too much for his college student wallet. Contending himself to just turn the alarm off, the boy came back to bury his face into his soft pillow, promising to never staying up so late at night reading again - a promise he knew he would never accomplish.

Allowing himself to have a few more minutes of laziness, Eiji stretched out his body on the bed, letting the timid sunbeams, that were coming through the curtains, warm his face pleasantly. The boy didn’t have so much to do that day; he just needed to start his shift a bit earlier in the café that afternoon, to help his uncle to reorganize the storage, but his whole morning was completely free for him to start a new book or watch the show that his best friend, Shorter, had recommended to him. While Eiji tried to decide what to do before leaving the bed, he let the sounds of the already busy store downstairs reach his ears, indicating the true beginning of a new day.

After going to brush his teeth, Eiji headed into the kitchen to prepare his breakfast: a cup of hot green tea and the last chocolate donut in the package - an unexpected match of flavors from both cultures, but a very welcomed one. The boy loved how the bitterness of the green tea balanced the too sugared taste of the American sweet. Accompanied by his breakfast, Eiji came back to his bed, taking the opportunity to grab his laptop in the “living room” – two old, but pretty armchairs he had positioned in the free space between the kitchen and his bedroom, trying to make it look like his tiny apartment wasn’t that tiny. The boy ended up deciding to find out if the show that Shorter had insisted so much for him to watch was as good as his friend claimed it to be.

The show ended up being so gripping that Eiji completely lost his track of time. He dived so deep into the story, getting so involved by all the small mysteries that led to a bigger and exciting one, the interesting characters, the unique atmosphere of the world where the story was settled… and when he realized, the morning had almost reached its end, dragging him back from the fictional world to the real one. The clock ticked just over eleven o'clock when he turned his laptop off, making a mental note to thank Shorter for suggesting him that amazing show later, right before starting to get ready for his chores of the day - being the first one, preparing the lunch for him and his uncle. The boy couldn’t help but let a resigned sigh get out of his chest for not be able to finish the first season of the show that morning, while he locked his door and headed for his uncle's apartment, right beside his own.

The kitchen of Eiji's apartment was enough for the small meals he prepared to himself; but when it came to larger or more elaborate meals, the boy borrowed his uncle's kitchen, as was the case that day. Ibe's apartment was more than twice the size of Eiji's, with well-divided rooms and three bedrooms. When he moved to America to help his uncle during his recovery from cancer, about two years ago, Eiji had shared the apartment with Ibe for little more than eight months, but he had never felt comfortable with it; the boy couldn’t stop thinking that he was somehow invading his uncle's privacy. Then, as soon as the man was completely healed and recovered from the treatment, Eiji voiced his wish to rent the empty efficiency apartment. Uncle and nephew had some discussions on the subject; Ibe didn’t want to accept that his nephew would pay to live there, but the stubborn boy insisted on doing it, after all, he didn’t think it was fair to stay in the apartment as a favor. The uncle still tried to make him change his mind, but soon he found out that when Eiji puts something in his mind it was easier to just accept the defeat. Still, Ibe had made it clear to him that his house would always be Eiji's as well - which has been proved to be very convenient for the boy, like at moments like that.

Wasting no time, Eiji took all the ingredients he would need to prepare the lunch: rice, two pieces of fish, some vegetables and spices. The boy was better at preparing sweets dishes, but there was nothing to complain about his savory meals; he always seemed to know the right spice and the right amount of it to enhance the taste of each food - unlike his uncle, who always seemed to use either too much or too little spice. A little over half an hour later, Eiji was already serving the food in the obentou boxes and as soon as he finished cleaning the kitchen, the boy grabbed both obentou and started walking to downstairs to the first floor where the Banana Fish café was running full blast.

The boy hesitated for a moment in front of the door that separated the silent residential part of the build from the hectic commercial one. At this point, he was supposed to be used to deal with lots of people, once he has been working at the store for almost two years, having to interact with the costumers everyday during long hours of his day, but… the truth was that he still feeling like he hadn’t improved so much when it comes to his social skills. Eiji still feeling that annoying uneasiness in his stomach every time when he was about to start a new shift, every time when he needed to smile and exchange a few words with a stranger, every time when he needed to step outside that door in front of him.

Taking a deep breath, Eiji opened the door and gave his first step to beyond his small, silent world.

Eiji found his uncle in the staff room, but he wasn’t alone; Ibe was talking with Max, his business partner and best friend. A smile automatically came up to the boy’s lips, only to falter a moment later, making his heart ache a little bit.

Since Eiji had met his uncle’s best friend, he had never seen the man without a gentle smile on his face, but… the only thing that seemed to adorn his face since the month before was a deep expression of concern and exhaustion, darkening his kind eyes and making the tips of his lips - so used to be turned upwards - point to the ground. The loss of his younger sister had really messed with Max and, no matter how much the boy wanted to help him, he couldn’t thinking about anything to do. The feeling of impotence made Eiji’s chest even heavier.

“Hello, Eiji!”, Max greeted him with a broad smile, but that wasn’t enough to erase the marks that the tiredness had left on his face.

“Good afternoon.”, the boy returned the smile kindly, approaching the two older men and taking a sit next to his uncle. “How are you doing?”

Max visibly suppressed a sigh. “I won’t lie to you… it’s been a tough time, but…”, a small, but sincere smile took shape on the man’s lips. “I’m gonna be fine. I’m feeling like things are finally starting to settle down.” And with a glow of fun flicking into his eyes, he added: “I’m even missing working! I can’t wait for the end of these vacations!”, If Eiji wasn’t mistaken, the Head Chef of the Banana Fish café still had another week before returning to work, after taking a couple of weeks off to handle with all the things related to the passing of his sister and brother-in-law, besides the custody of their son.

“And how’s your…”, the boy hesitated for a moment, uncertain about the proper word to use in that case. For someone who used to have a very poor knowledge of the English language when he arrived in North America lands, Eiji had improved a lot during his time living there - but it didn’t mean that the Japanese boy had stopped to struggle with the language sometimes.“… stepnephew going? Does this word even exist?”

Max burst out laughing at the last question of his best friend’s nephew for a moment, right before his smiling face melted back to his tired expression.

“Well… it’s really hard to tell how Ash is actually feeling… He seems to be pretty good at cover his emotions with some layers of indifference and self-confidence, as if he doesn’t care so much about what’s happening around him because he knows he would be fine no matter what. As if he thinks he can deal with everything all alone. And that’s what worries me the most.”, each word that came out from Max’s mouth seemed to put more weight over his shoulder instead of relieving it.

Eiji knew near to nothing about the Chef’s nephew. Ibe didn’t want to go into too much details, but he had told him once that unfortunate events seemed to chase the boy along all his life since he was a child, including the loss of his parents around a month before. It broke Eiji's heart to hear that someone so young has had already to face so much in life.

“The only thing I’m sure about Ash…”, Max continued. “… is that he's not very excited about the idea of living in a small town like this one, but…”, his concerned expression started, little by little, giving way to a fragile smile with a hint of hope on it. “But he’s getting along very well with Michael. Those two got attached to each other the moment they met, like they had adopted the other as a brother or something like that instantly.”, and with the softer expression Eiji had seen on his face for the past month, he added: “The only times Ash seems to be himself is when he's with Michael. That's a good sign, isn’t it?”

It was Eiji's turn to allow a smile to reach his lips. The little Michael was a very special child, so it didn't surprise him that the other boy got attached to him so easily; it was hard not to have a soft spot for that sweet kid.

“You should invite him to come here.”, Ibe suggested, tapping his fingers lightly on the lid of the obentou box. He seemed eager to devour his lunch, but he didn’t want to be rude. “I'm sure he will not resist to our delicious sweets. They are… irresistible!”

Max smiled at his friend gratefully. “Thank you, Shunichi. I’ll talk about it with him later. But, now…”, he began to stand up calmly, resting one hand on the back of the chair. “Now, I'm going to let you two have your lunch in peace.”

Ibe tried to persuade Max to stay a little longer, but his friend declined the invitation, affirming that he had promised his wife to help her with some things at home, but he promised to return to visit them before his kind-of vacation was over - and that he would bring his nephew next time.

“I've never seen Max so down before…”, lamented Ibe, chewing his lunch in a melancholic way. He must have been really worried about his friend not to be excited about the delicious food his nephew had prepared for them. “I hope things get better for him soon.”

“Me too. Seeing him like this makes me feel so sad.”, Eiji agreed, poking his piece of fish absently with the hashi. “But I'm sure everything will be fine sooner than we expect!”, the boy smiled at his uncle with confidence, making the man smile too.

The Glenreeds had always been so kind to Eiji, making him feel comfortable around them, almost as if he were part of the family. No matter what they were going through, the boy was sure they would get over that much in no time. They were good and kind people... Eiji could bet it wouldn’t take so long for even that new member of the family to feel welcomed by them.

The boy couldn’t help but wonder what kind of person Max’s nephew was.

#Banana Fish #asheiji #ash lynx #Eiji Okumura #Coffee Shop AU #Fanfiction #Fanfic #Fic

5 notes · View notes