#the rest of the straw hats: hey buddy so what the fuck

[thychesters]

i’m looking forward to this luffy vs oars fight. can’t wait for luffy to essentially fight himself because there can only be one king of the pirates and it is NOT going to be this oversized dead guy being possessed by his shadow!

[mother-snake]

all they need is eachother

(virgil and janus angst, cause i havent put jaus through enough truma apparently. hope you all enjoy!)

taggs: @idkanameatall @anxiously-creating @imthebadguythatsfine warnings: i wanna say a panic attack? definate feels. words: 2594

-virgil and janus have a history. not a perfect one. but one thats good for them both-

There were many things that confused everyone in the mind palace. But one of them was the way Janus and Virgil would act towards one another.

Sure, when they were younger, they had a ‘rivalry’ if you could even call it that. but somewhere along the line they wouldn’t have denied that they fell for one another, but they hadn’t quite come to admitting it to each other… the others were about to lose their minds over that. Logan and Patton had set up a bet. it wasn’t looking too good for Patton. both not sure when it had even happened. But it was before Thomas knew about them.

Janus always made sure Virgil wasn’t going a day without some form of human connection. Even if it was just sitting in his room cuddling into Virgil’s side pretending, he was cold. and the days he truly was cold, Virgil would lend his hoodie over to the other side despite the fact he would be exposed to the cold.

But between all of that they did have their fights. And it was just unfortunate timing that when Janus had chosen to reveal himself that he and Virgil had a fight only the night prior. so when they appeared in the mindscape things were clearly tense between the two of them.

But that didn’t stop Janus form smiling when he saw Virgil waring the patchwork hoodie he had created for the side as a small goodbye gift when he had left to join the lights.

So, it had made his day ever so slightly better to know he wasn’t completely mad at him. Well… for the time being at least. He hoped.

When he had sunk down, he didn’t go straight to his room. He always made a quick pit stop in Virgil’s in hopes he could steal an old hoodie or jumper from him. So far, he only had two. yeah…no. he was getting another. The other two didn’t have his coffee and almost cookie scent. It baffled him how he could have smelled like coffee when Virgil apparently despised coffee.

He didn’t ask. He knew when to keep to himself.

Well, as he was ‘looking’ he felt his hat get taken from his head, causing him to turn around and see Virgil standing their mid-way through placing the hat on his own head. “so, what brings you here traitor?” Virgil said with a smirk. “for the last time I’m sorry,” Janus strained. “you allied with Remus against me,” he deadpanned. “it was monopoly, you know I get competitive!” Janus exasperated.

“let me steal a shirt and were even, ill even let you keep another hoodie- “ “deal,” Janus said shaking Virgil’s outstretched hand.

They both held their smiles, something they only seemed to do in each other’s presence. “so… what’s Remus up to right now?” “most likely lit something on fire knowing him,” Janus responded, “any tea on the others?” “other than Logan really needed a moral boost. Not much I’m afraid,”

Janus pondered what Virgil said as he pulled out a light purple hoodie and draped it over his arm with a smirk. “I bet Remus could help with that,” Janus held a grin that could only happen on one occasion. “you have a plan? “I have a plan,” Janus said, his eyes glistening.

Virgil was happy that his concealer was able to hide the blush on his face as he saw how happy Janus could get scheming.

--

He was concerned when he found Janus in his room later that day. His smile dropped into a frown when he saw Janus trying to swipe away stray tears. “hey you okay there dude?” Janus’s eyes snapped up to Virgil. “I’m fine,” he didn’t push for an answer.

He slipped off his hoodie and threw it Janus’s way. getting a small laugh out of the side as it landed on the snake’s head. Janus sniffed before he slipped on the hoodie, zipping it up and pulling it over his head. His hat sat off to the side.

Virgil felt worry seeping into his foundation. It had been months since he had seen the side crying. Even then it was the first time in years. “it’s okay,” Virgil said as he sat down next to Janus, leaning his back on the wall and wrapping an arm around the side, “I’ve got you.”

No more words were said. Being there in each other’s embrace said more than they truly knew. Janus rested his head on Virgil’s shoulder. A wave of tired washing itself over the both of them, falling asleep. Lulled by the sound of the others slow breathing.

--

Virgil was not impressed. When Janus said he had a plan… he didn’t expect this of all things to happen. nope. Nada. Not on his wish list.

He sighed as he watched roman get bonked on the head by the mace. He had been asked to play along. Not that the other three in the room knew that.

“ah… it’s the duke,” Virgil sighed… he was having words with Janus later.

The only problem was that he had an act to keep up. one he preferred not to do. he was a light side, and until the others knew that he promised he would keep the act of hating the others up. that had been the compromise.

And then… “I would never hide anything from you,” he glanced down to the floor. a fiery pit of rage burned higher the more Remus spoke. he could let Janus slide. He knew the other was just teasing him. But Remus wasn’t like that. he knew what he said and how it could invoke feelings in others. and he knew that this would trigger something in Virgil… and it did. Janus hadn’t told him about the plan… he had hinted at his past… and now Remus had as well. Had Janus told him to do so?

He shook his head, unnoticed by the others. only one thing could be said. Their plan, whatever it was… was working. Logan was getting listened to despite what everyone around him kept saying.

At some point he guessed he got caught up in his head. The possibilities running around his mind weren’t pretty to say the least and he knew he had Remus to thank for that. “Virgil buddy?” and that where things hit the fan.

--

He wasn’t sure how to feel… years of work seemed to be set in flames in seconds. The look of betrayal etched into his mind. Unwilling to move when he blinked. “Virgil?” a silky voice spoke from behind. it seemed to light a match below. One he didn’t realise was sitting above gasoline.

Virgil snapped around, glaring harshly at Janus with a steely gaze. the deceitful side stepped back in shock… this wasn’t like Virgil.

“leave me alone,” he snarled. Janus looked at Virgil before taking a step forward. Virgil ignored his calls and walked away. His destination was his room. He wanted to be alone for now.

And Janus. He didn’t know what had happened. But he needed to know. And now. He turned and bolted to where Remus was normal confided.

What he didn’t expect was to bump into said side over in the light half. “Jannie? To what do I owe the pleasure?” he grinned wildly. “why is Virgil so angry at me?” he asked with pleading eyes. “angry- “he cut himself off.

He stopped himself before thinking, and when it hit him it was like a bag of coal had be thrown into his skull. “um… we may have fucked up?” Remus said as he looked at a confused Janus. “what do you mean?” Janus asked, worry seeping into his words. “you know…hinting to Thomas he was one of us and all,” Remus said nonchalantly.

Janus stopped where he stood… had that really been the reason? Had he been so angry because they kept prodding at that small thing? tears left Janus as thoughts swirled in his head. Had Virgil hated him all this time… had he only put up with them because he could keep an eye on them. “I… I need to go,” Janus muttered as he wiped away tears that pooled down his face. “Janus,” Remus said as he grabbed the sides arm. “please- “before he could finish, he was pulled into a tight hug.

Any tears that had been held in went loose like a waterfall. He sobbed into Remus’s chest.   he didn’t want to believe he may have just lost his best friend. But some times there’s no way to lie yourself out of a situation.

--

That was the final straw for Janus. He wasn’t the villain. He never had been. So why was roman so insistent he was. “how can we trust him!?” he heard roman yell at Thomas. “I don’t have an easy answer for that…it’s a start,” there was no going back. “my name…” all eyes were on him in that moment. “my name is Janus,” he looked Thomas dead in the eyes before hearing laughter. no… “Janus? What are you? a middle school librarian?” roman laughed.

He had tried to hold himself back from sinking down. Doing what he does best and snapping back as a defence. “oh that god you don’t have a moustache roman. Otherwise between you and Remus… I wouldn’t know who the evil twin is,” what the fuck did he just say?!

His mind didn’t remember much of what happened after. Right now, he was in his room curled tightly in a ball. Ignoring Remus’s plea to get him out of the room. he only pulled himself closer… just when he thought he wasn’t the villain he did that. just when things were going perfectly… he did the one thing he knew would hurt roman. compare him to his brother. He let out a small chuckle as his mind grew darker and darker. Remus began to get worried. He could hear Janus’s thoughts and it was getting to much even for him.

A thought crossed his mind… would he even want to see Janus. Well… tough luck.

He found himself bolting over to the light sides. Dodging Patton coming down the stairs. Not stopping to apologise as he shoved him out the way.

When he arrived at the purple door, he banged harshly, hoping to grab the others attention. he heard shuffling on the other side but didn’t let up until the door creaked open. He slotted his foot in the crack of the door, just in case.

Virgil saw the panicked look on Remus’s face. “what do you want?” he asked sternly. “it’s Janus, please-“ Virgil shut the door harshly, causing Remus to wince,” I’m scared,” Remus muttered.

Virgil paused. He had never heard him sound so… broken? Was that the right word. Then he felt it. the waves of anxiety coming from Remus. It made his eyes go wide. “where is he?” “his room, he won’t open the door for me,” Remus muttered. Virgil gave a sharp nod before sinking down. He landed outside Janus’s door and almost stumbled at the force of anxiety and feelings even he had never felt so strongly. what was going through his head?

He reached his hand onto the door handle. He held a breath before turning it and pushing it open. he wasn’t sure what he would find. But it didn’t feel like it would have been this.

His room was dark. Pitch black even. A small shiver was sent up his spine the closer he got to Janus. that’s when his ears registered the noises coming from the bed tucked neatly in the corner. He felt something inside his soul break as he heard the sobs and cries coming from the ball curled up on the bed.

He closed the door behind himself. Knowing Janus wouldn’t want anyone to see him like this. “Janus?” he said, “hey, can you hear me?” he asked.

The side heard his name get called and looked up, showing his face that had been buried in his lap. “Virgil?” he muttered rubbing his eyes, trying to labour his breathing as best as possible. he sat down at the end of the bed before taking his hoodie off and placing it mid-way to him and Janus. but before he knew it a set of arms were wrapped around him, holding him tightly in a hug. what felt close to an instinct he wrapped his arms around Janus. Not letting go. He continued to hold on as he heard the sound of Janus’s breathing settling down before Janus slumped against him. He lifted Janus up before he repositioned himself, trying to not wake the obviously shattered side.

“g’nite Janus,” he muttered before planting a gentile kiss on Janus’s head. he lied down next to Janus, wrapping his arms as best as he could around the side. he didn’t realise how much he had missed holding Janus like this. Sure, the situation could have been better. But he had a feeling if it weren’t for Remus he wouldn’t have cared enough to check.

Virgil didn’t sleep.

--

Janus had woken up with something warm wrapped around him. It was like a heater for your body mixed with the worlds best blanket. the smell of cookies and coffee filled his nose. making him let out a content sigh. he buried his head further into whatever it was. a small chuckle filled his ears. Since when did blankets make a noise?

He cracked an eye open before shooting up. there lying next to him was a smirking Virgil his hoodie lying where Janus had been moments ago. “okay, what the hell- “the memories from yesterday flooded his mind.

Any though that had been in his mind only a couple minuets ago were washed away. He felt his shoulders beginning to shake as he dug his nails into his arms. Virgil threw the hoodie his way. he caught it mid air and slipped it on as quickly as possible. He could swear that any thoughts left as soon as he put his first arm in that sleeve.

“what happened yesterday Janus?” Virgil asked. he guessed when he winced at the memories Virgil was not going to back down from this one. “some things were said… and roman made fun of my name,” he muttered. he looked up to see a murderous look on Virgil’s face. “I compared him to Remus and…the look on his face. Virge… it won’t go away,” he cried, burying his head in Virgil’s shoulder.

He was fresh out of tears and felt like a piece of dirt. “sorry you had to witness that last night,” he sniffed. “hey, don’t apologise, feeling suck. Sometimes all you need is a good cry,” Virgil chuckled, “take that from me.”

Janus didn’t say anything but only held onto Virgil ever so slightly tighter. sure things weren’t the best. But even so. He was happy to know despite what had happened Virgil could still keep a soft spot for him. A warm feeling spread in his chest. happiness was something he loved. And to Janus, Virgil was his own source of daily happiness.

Despite all their fights, at the end of the day neither could be mad for long. They would always come to a compromise. And right now, even if it was just to put what happened behind them, he was okay with that.

He had Virgil and Virgil had him. he had all he needed in his arms.

[mikeisthricedeceased]

You’re My Home

Catfish x OC

Part 1: Winds Change

Word Count: ~1.9k

Part 2  Part 3

A/N: This is an idea I’ve had for a bit, and it’s been a little easier to actually type out than the Mando fic I’ve been working on. It’s probably because I’m planning for this to be some sappy, smutty fun while the Mando fic is a bit more involved.

Edit: replaced some Spanish lines because I’m nowhere near fluent and have no way of knowing how well they actually translate

Summary: Frankie has had a rough year since the whole heist shit show. It’s been one bad thing after another, leaving him all alone in a dingy apartment and steadily slipping back into old habits. He’s more than a little surprised when a pretty stranger approaches him at a bar and coaxes him into having an actual conversation. Nita guides him into a whole new world that might be just what he needs.

(The last sentence of the summary is more of a hint to the series as a whole.)

~*~*~*~

Frankie sat alone at the bar, nursing his third beer of the night. He could’ve been drinking at his place for cheaper, but the empty apartment just served as a reminder of how alone he’d become in the past year. He’d been able to meet up with the guys a few times since the divorce, but they all had lives. Pope was always traveling to see Yovanna. Will and Benny had each other, even with how often they butted heads. He just had himself, and the few days that he got to spend with little Isabella. He and his ex technically had shared custody, but she kept their daughter most days, afraid of what could happen since he clearly still clung to old habits. He couldn’t really fault her for that, as much as it tore him apart.

He was trying. He really was. But, with all that had happened, it was just so easy to find himself sliding back into shit. And going out to drink on his own so he wouldn’t have to sit in an empty apartment where most of the boxes still sat unpacked because it wasn’t home didn’t come close to his worst night, but fuck, was it sad.

He pulled his hat off and dropped it onto the bar top, running his fingers through his too-long hair. He knew he looked just as much the mess that he felt.

~*~*~*~

“Oh, Boss.”

Nita raised an eyebrow, gaze flicking across the table. “Oh, Ryan,” she said, mimicking his sing-song tone.

He smirked, gesturing toward the bar. “You’re staring.”

“And?” she asked.

He scrunched his nose. “Little rough around the edges, don’t you think?”

Tiff nudged him with an elbow. “Careful, bucko, she’s paying for our drinks.”

Nita leaned back in her seat, crossing her arms with a small smile. “You should listen to her, pretty boy. You wanna insult my taste, you can buy your own shots.”

He held up his hands. “I didn’t mean anything by it. Just trying to bring you back to the table.”

She hummed, narrowing her eyes at him.

“Honest,” he insisted, a grin breaking through.

“You couldn’t kiss ass to save your life, could you?”

Tiff snorted at that and Ryan sighed, clasping his hands behind his head.

“I wouldn’t have the job you gave me if I could, Boss,” he said, giving a quick wink.

Nita rolled her eyes. “Switches exist. You can just go ask Jorge or Monique,” she waved a hand toward the small group of their coworkers on the dance floor. “At least they don’t insult their employer.” She jabbed a finger at him “And fair warning, I am wearing a belt that I’m not afraid to use.”

Ryan rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah.”

She slid off of her chair, straightening her shirt before grabbing her glass.

“Where are you going?” asked Tiff.

Nita held up what was left of her bushwacker. “Grabbing another one of these,” she said. A quick glance at the figure at the bar and she smiled back at Tiff. “And testing my luck.”

~*~*~*~

She appeared next to him, a hand on the back of the stool beside him.

“Hey, is it okay if I sit here?”

He looked over at her. A soft smile and warm eyes greeted him. “Yeah, it’s fine,” he told her, looking back down at his beer.

“Thanks.”

She set an almost empty glass on the bar and slid onto the seat.

The bartender came over immediately, a broad smile on his face. “Hey, boss. Need another one?” He tapped near her glass.

She nodded and jabbed a thumb over her shoulder. “And I think los idiotas in the back need another round, if you don’t mind.”

He pointed to her and grinned. “Claro.”

“Gracias, señor.”

Frankie glanced over at the woman beside him as she rested her elbows on the bar and looked up at the lone tv on the wall.

Her eyes flicked to him and he had the decency to feel embarrassed about being caught, face warming.

He cleared his throat and shifted in his seat a bit, offering a polite, if awkward, smile.

“Hi,” she said softly, gaze now fixed on him.

He sat up a little and met her eyes. “Hey.”

There was a beat of silence before she spoke again. “I’m sorry if this is too forward, but I really just came over here to talk to you,” she told him, lips pulling into a small smile.

His brows shot up. “Oh.”

The bartender breezed past, smoothly placing a new bushwacker in front of Nita before lifting a tray laden with tequila shots and small bowls of lime wedges.

“Just ‘oh’?” she asked, eyes alive with amusement.

Frankie found himself smiling back at her, even as he looked down sheepishly. “I guess I just wasn’t expecting that.”

She shrugged, stirring the chocolate syrup in her drink around. “I do like being unpredictable sometimes. Keeps things fun.”

He turned toward her a little more. “Does it? Probably makes planning a little hard.”

She wagged a finger. “That’s why I said sometimes. I have responsibilities that require forethought on occasion.”

“Like owning a bar?” he asked, gesturing around them.

She laughed, shaking her head. “I don’t, actually. This just happens to be one of my go-to places to bring out-of-towners and colleagues who want to get tipsy on my dime. Lorenzo there has seen me drag a few of my friends outside with the help of a bouncer,” she said, grinning at the bartender.

“¿Los idiotas?” Frankie asked, nodding to the group in the back.

Nita smiled into her drink. “A few of them, yeah.” She took a sip and set the glass down, turning in her seat a bit to look at them. “I’ll probably be doing that again tonight.”

“Someone has to make sure everyone gets home alright,” he reasoned.

She nodded in agreement, focusing back on him. “It’s honest work.”

He almost wanted her to stop looking at him like that. So warm, so inviting. It didn’t feel like the sort of thing that should be happening to him, especially with how life had been treating him recently. He couldn’t believe that he was actually managing to hold a conversation either. He’d been communicating almost exclusively through grunts and monosyllabic words for the past few months.

But, sitting there with her eyes on him, it just made the words a little easier.

“So, what do you do, if you don’t own a bar?” he asked before taking a sip of his beer.

She shifted, eyes sliding to her friends in the back again. “I own a few clubs. One of them is local, that’s where all of them work. There are a few more spread out across the States. I also have a business with an old friend of mine in New York.”

He nodded, eyes dancing over her face as she spoke. “A pretty successful business woman, then?”

She smiled. “Something like that. Being your own boss has its pros and cons.” She lightly bumped his arm with the back of her hand. “What about you?”

It felt like his chest was going to burst with that small touch. It finally clicked that this woman was really, honest to God flirting with him, and he might’ve been losing his mind about it.

“I’m a pilot. Been working some odd jobs recently, though, waiting for my recertification to go through.” He tried not to wince as he thought about it. “Some old buddies of mine have an MMA gig that I help out with sometimes. Adds a little bit of excitement to my weeknights.”

“Sounds like it would,” she said, a hint of a laugh in her voice. “They have some amateur kickboxing tournaments at the gym my business partner’s husband works at. Always a fun time.” She swirled the straw in her drink absently. “Do you fly commercially?”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Nah. Mostly private stuff. Helicopter tours or cargo transport.” 

“Ah, a chopper guy,” she said, pressing her lips together to hide a grin as she nodded.

He raised an eyebrow at her. “What? Do I seem like the kind of guy who wears a suit everyday?”

She bit the inside of her cheek lightly and ran a finger through the condensation on her glass. “You just seem like the kind of guy who’d look really good in one,” she said, tilting her head at him.

He blinked at her, mind going a little blank. He looked down, grinning like an idiot as he picked at the label on his beer. “I don’t— I don’t know about that.”

She waved a hand, her broad smile making his face hot. “Oh, you’d probably look great in all kinds of stuff. Gotta love a uniform.” She studied him as she lifted her drink. “You’d make a good cowboy, too.”

He let out a surprised laugh, a little louder than he’d meant to. “A cowboy?”

She sipped her drink, humming affirmatively, and gestured at his head as she narrowed her eyes. “I’m picturing the hat. It works for you.”

They just laughed for a moment, gazing at each other. At some point in the conversation, they’d both fully turned, each of them resting a single elbow on the bar as they faced one another.

Frankie sighed, lips still turned up in a smirk. “I’ll try to keep that in mind. In the meantime,” he grabbed his old ball cap off the bar and slipped it on, “I think I’ll stick with this.”

“That’s a good look, too,” she said, smiling softly with her chin in her palm.

“You think so?”

“It’s definitely working for me.”

He bit his lip. “Y’know, I feel like an ass, sitting here and getting compliments from a beautiful woman without coming up with a way to return them that won’t embarrass the shit out of me.”

She dropped the hand she’d been leaning on, letting the tips of her fingers brush where his elbow rested on the bar. “I think that one was pretty good.”

It took everything in him not to look down at her hand. “I’ll take your word for it.”

A hand appeared at her shoulder and they both turned to face the newcomer.

Tiff looked between them apologetically. “Sorry,” she said before directing a frown at Nita. “Matt’s had about six too many shots and he’s gonna break his neck trying to backflip off the stage.”

Nita gave a long-suffering sigh, pinching the space between her brows. “And that means that Ryan is two shots behind him and everyone needs to be taken home before more chaos starts.” She shook her head and set her glass back on the bar, gaze lingering on the clear condensation ring it had left on her jeans. “I’ll be back there in a second.”

Tiff scurried off and Nita met Frankie’s eyes again.

She offered a half-hearted shrug. “Idiotas.”

He chuckled softly, hoping that she couldn’t tell just how disappointed he was to see her go.

Her gaze shifted to something over his shoulder. “Lorenzo! Do you have a pen?” she called, making a writing gesture in the air.

Frankie could only watch as she thanked the bartender for the pen and pulled her wallet out of her back pocket.

“All I have are business cards,” she told him, biting her lip sheepishly. She slipped one out of her wallet and started writing across the back. Then, she was handing it to him. “This is my cell number. And I don’t think I ever got your name.”

He took the card in a daze. “It’s Frankie,” he said softly.

“Nita,” she said, gesturing to herself with one hand as she returned her wallet with the other. “Maybe we can do this again sometime, Frankie. Sin los idiotas.”

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

She offered him one last breathtaking smile. “Have a good night.”

“Night. And good luck with the carpool,” he said as she started walking away.

He heard her laugh.

He turned to face the bar again, a smile plastered across his face.

A few moments later, he saw some of her group walk out the door. A few stumbled. The woman who had brought an end to their conversation stopped to talk to the bartender before moving to hold the door open. Then, Nita was half-carrying, half-dragging a chattering man out of the bar, a bouncer following close behind.

Frankie chuckled to himself, shaking his head. It was probably time for him to head out, too. The beer in his hand was beyond lukewarm and it wasn’t going to help him feel any better than he already did.

He waved down the bartender as he reached for his own wallet, carefully tucking Nita’s business card away before thumbing through his cash.

“How much?” he asked.

Lorenzo shook his head, holding up a hand. “You’re covered.”

His brow furrowed in confusion. “What?”

“Boss took care of it,” said the bartender, nodding to the door and offering him a shrug.

“Oh.” Frankie let that process as he slowly put his wallet away. “Gracias, señor.”

He felt a little light-headed as he made his way out of the bar. So much had happened so quickly. He’d started the night determined to wallow in self pity, only to end it with a warm feeling in his chest and the promise of a date in the near future.

~*~*~*~

If anyone wants to be tagged, send me a message and I’ll add you!

Taglist: @zeldasayer @tarrevizslas

~ Mike

[richie-txzier]

Sweet Dreams Are Made Of This (Who Am I To Disagree?)

Request: Can you do a Stenbrough soulmate story?!! I loved the Reddie one so much it was great.

Requester: @kylieee827-blog​

Pairing(s): Bill Denbrough x Stan Uris, Eddie Kaspbrak x Richie Tozier

Warning: Lil sad, but Richie’s there so it’s okay

Author: Admin Tozier

Note: A lot of you were wondering wtf Bill wanted in Paraprosexia (Spoiler Alert: He was having a gay crisis), so consider this a prequel/sequel/add-on to not only answer that question but give you a Stenbrough Soulmate AU as well! I started to write this and suddenly it was 3k words later and we hadn’t even got to Buttercup’s yet and I was like yikes so consider this Chapter 1!

Extra Note: GEORGIE IS ALIVE BECAUSE FUCK YOU STEPHEN, THAT’S WHY

Actual Useful Extra Note: The basis to this Soulmate AU is that on the night of your 17th birthday you have a dream featuring your soulmate. You see their face and hear their name, and for every consecutive birthday after that, you have a dream featuring them again and again until you find them. I’d say I created it, but most likely it’s a mash-up of every other Soulmate AU other there, so feel free if you’d like to use it! (:

Paraprosexia , Chapter 1 (YOU ARE HERE), Chapter 2, Chapter 3

23:58pm

23:59pm

00:00am

Bill let out a deep breath, the panic-inducing feeling of tears, a constricted chest and frozen limbs ebbing away in the early morning darkness. As his eyes met the ceiling, his hands coiling together to relieve the lingering anxiety, he first figured that he didn’t really feel any different. He was 17 now. 17 years of waiting for this exact night. He figured the worst was over, the rest he really didn’t have much control over. All he had to was sleep and there his soulmate would be.

Bill wondered what they’d look like. Would they be like Bev? With badge littered leather jackets, heavy dark make-up around crystal eyes, crimson-painted lips circled around a cigarette while one foot stayed propped up on the pedal of her motorbike. Or would they be like Mike? With big warm smiles, floppy straw hat casting a kaleidoscope of sunspots across his face as he looked up at him from fluttering his fingers through the field of flowers, a few of them tucked into his overall’s pocket. Or would they be like…

No. Bill couldn’t get his hopes up. There were 7 billion people on the planet, what are the odds his soulmate would be his best friend? His best friend with soft blonde curls, almond shaped brown eyes that when turned to him made him feel like he was the only person in the room, the rare and bright smiles that graced his lips and creased his eyes-

No. He couldn’t get his hopes up.

Exhaling another breath, Bill closed his eyes, his nerves betraying his determined desire to sleep and he fidgeted with his fingers. Eventually, he rolled onto his side in an attempt to get more comfortable while simultaneously facing away from the taunting ticking clock that recorded each minute he was away from his soulmate. He curled up under his blankets, bringing his knees to his chest in a fetal position he hadn’t slept in since the night Georgie went missing. Why was he so nervous? His heart was beating frantically as if it knew something Bill didn’t, his mind only rationally telling him the unlikeliness he would recognise his soulmate, let alone ever meet them.

With a determined, frustrated and familiar courageous coiled feeling in his stomach, he put on a brave face and decided he was going to face this head on. The universe wants to give him a soulmate? Get fucking on with it.

And with that, Bill huffed to himself, squeezed his eyes shut, and focused on sleeping until he drifted off into unconsciousness.

He was in a woodland. Stood tall, but so short against the towering trees, the foliage rippling under the soft summer breeze, the pale yellow sun shining through the gaps in the leave with angelic curtains of light. They fell like a spotlight to glimmer and shine again blonde ringlets, the tight curls swaying delicately like loosely twirled golden ribbons.

The figure slowly turned, chirping of birds causing them to hesitate for a moment to flutter through the book they held with graceful slender fingers, pale arms exposed by the sleeves of his cotton shirt folded at his elbows. His skin shimmered, the pearly expanse interrupted by faded freckles that he could only make out by the sudden proximity he found himself to the figure.

“Bill?” A silky, sharp voice interrupted his gaze on the figure’s body and Bill flinched, eyes lifting to meet the face of the figure.

Almond irises. Focused solely on him. Mouth curled into a rare smile, creasing his eyes.

“Stan?” Bill breathed. Stan cocked his head, closed his book and made his way closer, but Bill only stumbled backwards, eyes blown and jaw dropped into a pure state of shock as he stared into the angled concerned features of his best friend.

Stan’s eyebrows knitted together, his hand laying gently on Bill’s bicep and Bill resisted the sudden urge to jolt it back. His touch was too kind, too tender, too loving. Bill’s breath quickened and Stan’s mouth only tightened in anxiety.

“Hey,” Stan murmured softly, and Bill could only let him, his body frozen, as he wrapped a gentle arm snugly around his waist to draw him closer. Stan entwined their hands together and brought Bill’s to his lips, kissing his fingers softly. Their eyes met again, Stan’s warm brown eyes staring at him with a genuine clear emotion that Bill had never seen lining them, “I love you.”

Bill’s cheeks twitched into a smile, cheeks flushing a little as he pressed their foreheads together, vacant fingers curling into his shoulder to keep him as close as possible, the actions and words acting automatically; the pessimistic voice in his barely conscious brain telling him that this may be his only chance to say it, “I love you too.”

Bill woke up with the words sculpted into his mouth.

OH FUCK.

Bill felt like he wasn’t attached to his body as he scrambled out of bed, the clock on his bedside glaring 8:53am out the corner of his eye. His mind was telling him he was drifting over to his pile of shoes, but later he would realise he was probably clambering and stumbling over, pulling on the first pair of trainers he saw, not bothering to change out of his sweatpants, grabbed his phone, keys and hoodie before thundering down the stairs.

“Billy?” A small voice wavered into his focus and he looked down to see Georgie staring up at him, one flesh and one plastic hand holding a bowl of cereal as he was still dressed in his pyjamas, “Where’re you going?”

“I-I’m juh-j-just going t-to Beh-Beverly’s for b-b-breakfast.” He managed to spit out, his tongue feeling heavy, his mind clicking at a mile a minute. Georgie’s face brightened and he bounced on the balls of his feet, head reaching Bill’s chest now.

“Can I come? I wanna see Bev!” He asked, cocking his head and Bill got a sudden reminder of Stan doing similarly in his dream and another wave of panic crashed over him.

“Suh-sorry Georgie, not t-tuh-today.” Bill’s gaze was distant as he ruffled Georgie’s hair and quickly circled around the barely-teenage boy to rush out the front door. Georgie frowned at his retreating form, but quickly shrugged it off, happily walking into the dining room with his bowl of Lucky Charms.

Bill slid into the front of his car, tossing his phone into the passenger seat, plugging his key into the ignition and then paused for a moment to catch his breath. What was he doing? Where was he going? His head fell on the steering wheel and the car honked loudly. He jumped back, head falling into his hands with a depressed groan.

He needed to tell someone. Someone who would understand. Someone who was close to Stan as well, so they could help with how to tell the boy… what they were. Bill bumped the back his head against the car seat, groaning at his own cowardice to even think the word.

Soulmate. That’s what he is Bill. Stanley Uris is your soulmate.

Bill’s breathing was picking up, his heart beating painfully in his chest and his brain feeling like it was being wrung like a wet sponge. He needed to tell someone, get the pressure off his shoulders so he can focus on how to tell him.

How to tell him, oh my fucking god, how am I supposed to tell him?! Hey Stan, how you been buddy, listen, I had my wacky soulmate dream last night and guess what? WE’RE SOULMATES. Oh, and by the way, I’ve been in love with you since I was 15. Isn’t that cool? Haha! Wanna make out?

He smacked himself on the forehead. Out the corner of his eye his phone lit up as he got a notification from his messenger (Three in total; each a birthday message from Bev, Ben and Mike) and his background photo, that Richie had changed of him and the meddler with Richie smacking a kiss on his cheek while Bill was laughing, the alcohol evident in the redness of his cheeks, blared up at him. Richie.

Bill thanked God for the existence of Richie Tozier.

He snatched up his phone, pulling up his messenger and typed out a quick text:

Big Billiam: Meet me @ quarry in 20

He hesitated and then sent another:

Big Billiam: It’s important

He got a reply after a few seconds of typing:

Tozmanian Devil: omw

Bill puffed out the breath he wasn’t aware he was holding, his whole body slumping into his seat as a minute piece of stress lifted from his shoulder, allowing the feeling to come back into his fingers so he could start the ignition with a flick of his wrist. With a determined foot pressing on the pedal, he drove out of the parking spot and on to route towards the Quarry, hoping the wide open area would at least relief the squeezing pressure in his temples.

Pulling up he spotted Richie’s bike discarded carelessly on the ground a few feet behind its owner sat in the fire pit the seven of them had gradually created with a few rotting logs placed around the clearing in a circle to frame the social clearing. Richie was looking a little messy, as if he had just got out of bed, which earned a rightful pang of guilt in Bill’s chest, as his shirt was untucked from his jeans, glasses askew and glinting on the mid-Sunday morning light and his dark curls a mop across his face so thickly Bill wondered if he could even see.

“Rich?” Bill called, slamming the car door shut and locking it. Richie tipped his head back to shine a sleepy grin, eyes still a little bleary but the straightness of his posture held the concern he held for his best friend. When Bill came to sit beside him, in front of the log, leaning back against it, as Richie was obviously too cool to sit properly, he placed a friendly hand on his shoulder to silently assure him it wasn’t as bad as he knew he was blowing out of proportion in that wild head of his.

As he settled in next to him a whiff of antiseptic, wool and vanilla hit him, making Bill smile and laugh lightly, “You smell luh-l-like Eddie.”

“Well I’d sure hope so,” Richie replied, stretching long legs out to stare at his converse clad feet contrasting against the dark dirt they sat on, “Given that you dragged me from the sleepy and warm hold of my adorable boyfriend with your cryptic message. So what’s the hullabaloo about, cockblock?”

Bill only stared at him, terrifying Richie as his bright blue eyes held him down with an emotion he hadn’t seen pouring from them since they were 13: fear. Richie leaned into him, his hand falling to his knee, tone falling soft and concerned as he ducked to stare up at his friend, “Hey Bill, what happened? Talk to me, buddy.”

“What huh-happened in your s-suh-soulmate d-dream?” Bill suddenly asked. He didn’t know why he needed to know, he just did. Maybe it was because he needed reassurance it would turn out okay, that his feels could be requited. Or maybe he was just stalling, wanting to have his best friend here to do what he did best and just talk to drown out his thoughts.

Richie’s whole form softened and Bill was fascinated. A slow and painfully genuine grin took over his mouth and the words he spoke flow from his lips like he’d thought about it a lot, telling it over and over in his head until he could describe it perfectly. But the disbelief was there, the edge of shock that still hovered over him, stemming from his intense insecurity of never being good enough for the Eddie he was destined. It warmed Bill, a platonic and full glow that had him mirroring Richie’s smile.

“We were in the back of my truck, Eddie sat next to me, and I was playing my guitar. We were singing Africa,” He laughed, shaking his head, “Singing is not the right word actually. We were yelling more like. So off-key, so goddamn loud, and he was smiling, Bill, beaming, at me. His eyes were so big and full of love and he was grinning, his face gold in the setting sun and I could feel the love he had for me. For me. And then the song ended, but the giddy loving buzz stayed. Eddie leaned his head on my shoulder and he murmured that he loved me. It was so genuine that I remembered waking up crying.”

Richie was grinning dazedly, his eyes soft as he stared above the horizon with the pale blue sky reflected in his glasses.

“How did you t-tell him?” Bill whispered as he scuffed his free against the ground.

Richie shrugged, carding a hand through his mussed hair, “It all just kinda came out one day. I knew I had to tell him but couldn’t find the right moment. I kept putting it off and off until I couldn’t take it anymore. I climbed through his window, like the Romeo I am, and told him. Bare and clear, for him to take or leave.”

Richie smirked, “And boy, did he take it.”

“Beep fucking b-beep Richie, fucking heh-hell.” Bill hissed, spraying him with dirt and Richie only laughed. Bill could feel the bind on his chest loosen a little.

The two of them calmed; Richie laughs softening to a chuckle and then simmered to a gentle grin full of Eddie, Bill collecting his knees to his chest for the second time that day and placed his chin on his knees. Richie’s eyebrows furrowed as he took in the vulnerable position Bill had curled himself into and shuffled closer to him, leaning his head on Bill’s tense shoulder, hand rising to stroke Bill’s unbrushed reddish hair softly. Bill leaned into the touch and Richie sighed.

“Bill,” Bill knew what he was going to ask, Richie’s thumb pressing firmer into his temple, “Who’s your soulmate?”

What surprised Richie the most after that was not the name Bill muttered, it was not the absence of his stutter, it wasn’t even the sniff that followed; it was how Bill dropped his head to his knees and he sobbed. Broken, confused and scared. And what Richie thought was surprised, felt a hell lot more like pain.

“It’s Stan.”

And now it was real.

“Buddy,” Richie honestly didn’t know what he was going to say after that, so he was ironically thankful that Bill had flung his arms around him after that, burying his soft cries into Richie’s shoulder that smelled so strongly of Eddie. He stroked his hand down Bill’s back, dragging to trembling boy into his lap to hold him securely, his mouth aching to make a joke, diffuse the tension, do anything to interrupt the scene of the best friend he’d looked up to for so long, break down in his arms.

The moment was interrupted by the melodic singing and the low buzzing of Richie’s phone from his pocket into Bill’s thigh. Bill sniffed deeply, wiping at his nose as he pulled away from Richie with an embarrassed wet chuckle.

It’s gonna take a lot to drag me away from you~

“Sorry, Billy, it’s the ball and chain,” Richie remarked, smiling lightly, reaching into his pocket with the intent of muting it, but Bill shook his head and sat back further, waving his hand.

“Ah-answer it, it’s oh-okay.” Bill tried to smile but it came out more as a grimace. Richie gave him a guilty look before he pulled out his phone and swiped to take the call, his thumb swiping across the picture of Eddie scowling up at the camera, but he hadn’t been able to stop the sweet smile that pulled at his mouth as Richie had no doubt said something stupid behind the phone.

“Hey Spaghetti-baby,” Bill caught a shrill sharp phrase of ‘Don’t call me that!’ and the two of them chuckled.

“Yeah, I’m okay. Yeah, I’m with Bill. He’s uh, he’s fine.” After another moment, Richie tilted his head to face Bill and smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes, and Bill felt responsible and guilty for that, “Eds says Happy Birthday.”

“Tell him thanks,” Bill replied softly, his fingers twiddling with the soft material of his sweatpants.

“He says thanks. Mhm. Okay, baby, I will,“ He paused for a moment as he stared at Bill fidgeting, sniffing lightly, the pale light reflecting off the tear smudges across his cheeks and his overall slumped demeanour had Richie desperately wishing to see him smile, "Hold that thought Eds. Meet me and Bill at Buttercup’s. I’ll tell you when you get there. Mhm. Aw, you looove me? Okay, okay, I love you too, bye!”

Bill tilted his head to stare up him, eyebrows drawn together and mouth pressed into a line, “Wuh-why’re we goin’ to Buh-B-Buttercup’s?”

“Because, dear Billiam,” Richie began softly, standing up and offering a hand to Bill, which he gladly took, their hands linked as they walked towards Bill’s car, Richie squeezing it comfortingly, “Number one, I’m hungry as fuck. Number two, we need help from someone way better at this emotion shit than you, me and Eds. Number three, I miss Eds,”

Bill scoffed, chuckling as he leaned against the car door, watching Richie fit his bike into his trunk, “You suh-aw him an hour ago.”

“AND NUMBER FOUR,” Richie said loudly as to purposely ignore Bill’s teasing statement. He walked back to Bill to squeeze his shoulder, smiling so tenderly it made Bill’s heart clench, “You look like you need pancakes.”

When Bill smiled Richie considered his wish fulfilled.

BONUS: An aesthetic collage of the three people 17-year-old Bill knows he’s fallen in love with: 

[sweetly-cider]

Drunken Strings part 1 ((Canon RP between me and @juliets-oc-isle ))

Things at the bar had been slow -- and not by the customers' doing.

"Ale! You can't sit back here and sulk all day!" Applin scowled as he nudged the limp mug with his foot. "We've got work to do! Not to mention today was your shift."

"... jus' go away," the older brother grumbled, taking a swig from yet another bottle in his hand.

"No. Not if you're gonna drink away all of our merchandise," Appy scolded, reaching down to snatch away the bottle before travelling to the other end of the bar. Fortunately, by now the night was nearing its end, so the number of patrons had grown slim. Groaning, Ale simply rolled to face the other direction, avoiding responsibilities.

Max walked towards the bar with a small burlap sack of coins. He rubbed his neck tiredly and rolled his shoulders back to ease the ache from them. Things were so different now. Before he won his contract, he would notice Quil in the background, keeping an eye on him as he worked. It annoyed him then, but now, he missed seeing her hidden poorly in the shade of a tree or bush. He never saw her, and it was such a void to him that it distracted him tremendously. He hardly earned enough for what he spent at the bar now. Most of what he had were allowances from his trust.

He sighed as he pushed the doors to the bar, stepping in. When he looked up as he pulled his pipe out of his mouth, he was confused when he saw Applin instead of Ale.

"Applin? Hey, I thought your shift ended a while ago," he muttered, taking a seat at one of the stools by the bar.

"Well, it was supposed to," the tired cider said, jerking a thumb behind the counter. "I can't figure out what happened to 'im. He won't say anything, other than to tell me to leave him alone. I know he went to visit Swirl for whatever reason, but he only came back after a few minutes. I think something might have happened, but again he won't say a word about it. He's been too drunk all night."

“He went to see Pinky, ey?” He mumbled. He stood up on the foot rest of the stool and leaned over the bar until he could see Ale. “Howz about sharin with yer buddy, Ale. Better than drinkin’ alone, a’ight?”

The distressed mug looked up until the ale was spilling from him, then slowly pulled himself up. He didn't say anything, simply reaching behind him for another random bottle before pulling out a couple of glasses.

"... yeah, I went to see 'er," he said quietly, his voice hollow and hoarse as he poured the alcohol into their cups. "Prob'ly.... prob'ly the last time..."

Max raised a brow. “Ya told Pinky, didn’t ya?” He asked in a low voice. He reached over for a shot. “What’d she say to ya?” He asked in a low voice as he lifted the shot to his lips.

Ale was silent at first, holding the bottle in the air over the full shot glass.

"She... She said I don't care for anyone 'cept myself," he said slowly, setting the bottle on the counter. "Then... she pushed me out and... And said she needed time..."

The normally cocky mug simply took a shaky breath before pressing a hand to his face.

"She said all 'a the red flags. Needs time, should'a seen it comin', she hasn't been comin' to work, either. What am I gonna do? The one thing I didn't wanna fuck up I screwed up royally."

“She said she needs time?” He mumbled before drinking down the shot. He raised a brow at the taste, glancing at Ale. “Yer really down, ain’t ya?”

He sighed then rubbed his forehead. “At least she didn’t say that she hated ya, er never wanted ta see ya again.” He tilted the empty shot glass towards him. “Ya still have a chance to get yer girl back. Unlike me.”

"... I dunno. Didn't sound like a good chance," Ale muttered, glancing at the bottle before pulling a face. He set it back down onto the counter behind him before picking something a little better, downing his shot to fill it with the new alcohol. At this point, he didn't care about mixing.

"I've gotta figure out some way 'ta make it up to her, but... I dunno if there even is anything. Maybe she's right, and I oughta give 'er space..."

Max watched Ale carefully. He definitely wasn’t being himself, especially grabbing any kind of alcohol off the shelf too. “Do you know anything about relationships, Ale?” He asked. He set the shot glass down close to Ale, hoping for more. “I mean, a gal tellin’ ya that she needs more time, it doesn’t mean everything’s over.”

Around the time Max started speaking, another person walked in. He quietly stood in the corner, his red and white striped blazer standingnout like a sore thumb and his blond curles tucked neatly under his straw toyo hat. A black bow tie around the neck of his button up shirt, he leaned on his cherrywood cane as he sat and watched, his green eyes focusing on Max.

“Just because she ain’t wanting ta talk ta ya right now doesn’t mean ya should just go off and be careless. More than anything ya need to be dedicated to her now still. Give her her space, but don’t let another gal into ya bed.”

He kept on talking, not even knowing there was someone new in the bar.

"Well, yeah, I'm not about 'ta commit suicide," Ale said, waving the bottle through the air in front of him. He wasn't even trying to pay attention to the rest of the customers, assuming his brother would be taking care of it. Not that he was checking. "It wouldn't even be worth it! The only time I did was just... awful! Wasn't even worth the money, what I could remember!" Again, he rubbed his face with a sigh. "I dunno... I'm just... not gonna go anywhere for a while. Play it safe as possible." He punctuated his words by knocking back another shot.

“Good at least ya ain’t-- Hey man, don’t be hogging all it.” Max reached over for the bottle of alcohol.

“Look, I get it, you want to keep yourself from doin’ anything stupid. But locking. Yerself up izn’t gonna help.” Max said, grabbing the bottle and pointing it at him. “Especially if all you do is drink from te bottle. No one wants to swap spit with ya when they come’ere Ale. Why don't ya--”

“That didn’t seem to bother you much when you worked for me, Lavanda.”

Max froze at the sound of his voice, immediately turning to look at the guy who smirked at him from the entryway. “Joel?”

Ale blinked as his friend turned away.

"Who the hell is this guy," he muttered, his eyes following the stolen bottle, then tried to sneak another from behind him. "Look, pal, we're busy here! Ya want a drink, go 'ta the other end 'a the bar. And I ain't sharin' spit 'cause I ain't sharin!"

Joel laughed at Ale, as though he were telling an aweful joke. “Oh but I have business with him. He made an agreement with me long ago, and I am here to collect up on it now.”

Max rolled his eyes and slouched against the bar. “Yeah yeah, Joel, I know what you want. Can ya come by later? My friend and I, were goin’ threw a hard time....” Max mumbled sourly. “And no funny business either, it’s weird, awkward as fuck.”

Joel rested his elbows against the bar and planted his chin in his palms. “Awwwww, don’t like my shenanigans, hijole? Up until you found out you didn’t seem to mind it.”

Max groaned. “Yeah, think of it as you will, I have always and will always think of you as a parent. That's it!!” he poured some of the alcohol into a shot glass before setting the bottle down. “Quil was my focus then, and she is the reason I’m wanting to do nothing but drink until I’m numb, so if you don’t mind.” He raised the shot glass on the emphasis of ‘drink’ before tossing it down quickly. “You can lecture me all you want, but I ain’t gonna listen anymore Joel.”

Ale looked back and forth between the two, then let a confused scowl pull at his cheeks.

"Is someone gonna explain who the hell this guy is? Or do I just need 'ta kick 'im out! This Joel dude is freakin' me out!"

Max sighed. “Ale, this is Joel, he-....’they’ are the ones who took me and Quil in when we first arrived to the islands. They’re my old boss, and I owe ‘em money for the help we got.” He shrugged. “Which isn’t a problem now, since I won my bet with....’him’.”

As Max spoke, Joel stared at Ale with a studious expression. He was the same mug from that night before, but he was such a mess. Something must have happened bad. Ignoring Max, Joel smirked at Ale. “What’s the matter boy, did ya lose all a your luck already?”

"... What?"

The comment made the mug's frown deepen. Why did that sound familiar? And why did this guy act like he knew him?

"Look, pal, I got no idea who you are, and if you got anything 'ta do with the devil or his damn bets, you'd better get outta here before I kick ya out!"

When Ale raised his voice, they could see Applin farther down the bar suddenly freeze. His head whipped around as a shock of fear went through him. They didn't look like the devil's workers he'd seen before, but who could know?

Ale didn't even seem to notice. Instead, his mug was beginning to boil in an almost drunken anger. Was this creep making fun of him?

"You better butt out 'a business that ain't none 'a yours," he growled through clenched teeth.

Max widened his eyes as the mood in the bar escalated suddenly. “Ale, Bro, chill, Joel isn’t a collector.” He quickly turned towards Joel. “Joel, what the hell are you talkin about?!”

Joel chuckled lightly, obviously humored by Ales reaction. He wasn’t the first, and he probably wouldn’t be the last to act in such a way. “Hijo, I know this boy. Clumsy drunken fool had a winning streak at the casino, la casa de mi padre . He paid me for a bit of....entertainment.”

For a moment, Ale looked even more confused, his face twisting as he thought hard. His brain was still fuzzy with sadness and alcohol, but a few fuzzy memories began to faintly fade through. That's when his face went slack.

"Wait... what... what the hell? I dunno who you are, or how the hell you know about that, but you better fuck off, buddy!"

The bartender surged over the counter for a brief moment. If he'd been within reach, Ale would have most certainly have grabbed "Joel" by the scruff of his shirt, but his aim and perception were just a bit off.

"I lost everything because 'a that damn night a year ago. I might not remember who it was, but it definitely wasn't some sleezy dude!"

Joel chuckled in a low voice as Max groaned in embarrassment.  “Ale....you don’t understand, Joel, he’s....they’re....” He covered his head with his arms as he pressed his forehead against the table, his voice muffled from his arms. “Dios mío, ¿cómo digo esto?”

Max went silent as he tried to think of an easier way to explain, but before he could explain anything, Joel leaned forward and gripped onto Ale’s wrists, transparent strings winding themselves around his wrists then attaching them to the counter. “Cálmate, lucky charm, getting angry with me isn’t something you want to do.” He sneered. “Not unless you want me to tie you up again. Though, I promise, this time if I have to, I won’t let you loose.”

He pulled his hands away, the transparent strings literally pulling from his fingers like a spool of clear thread. He leaned close to Ale, his voice dying down to a whisper only he could hear. “I’m not always a man, boy. So believe me when I say that it was me you were with that night.”

Max had never seen Ale so scared before. His mug began bubbling even faster until the foam was spilling over the edge. Slowly, his eyes slid over until they met those shining green eyes. Green eyes that immediately shot through his memories like a bullet. He remembered those.

Ale opened his mouth to say something, but no words came out. He was too shocked even to struggle against the strings, his eyes still glued to the form in disbelief. This was the thing that made him lose Swirl? Were they coming back to haunt him? Was he going to lose even more now?!

He looked over to Max in a silent, confused plea. What was going on?

Max had been watching the whole thing, but he knew he couldn’t stop Joel. He sighed and looked at Ale in disappointment. “Joel, he’s, they’re genderfluid Ale. Meaning Joel can feel like a guy today, but feel like a girl tomorrow. Thing is, Joel has the ability to ‘switch bodies’. He’s-They’re....”

“If I’d have known Lil Maxie was gonna lead me to ya, I’d have dressed the part. My ebony body, brown curls, blue dress...you loved it last time you were drunk.” Joel pitched in. He reached over and grabbed the bottle of alcohol and winced. “This is what you guys are drinking?”

Max rolled his eyes. “I’m not in the mood for a lecture, Joel.”

“Aww, I just wanna know if there were any actual tasteful drinks here.” Joel playfully teased.

Ale was barely listening. The look of fear slowly began to morph into annoyance, then an anger that made his blood boil. This... thing was one of the reasons his life was falling apart, and now they're going to insult his bar? Though he couldn't detach himself from the counter, his fists began to clench against the wood.

"... Get out," he snarled through clenched teeth. "All of you-- get out!"

The shout made the bar suddenly grow silent, the gentle murmur coming to a standstill. Applin had to apologize to the patrons he was working with before sliding towards their end of the bar.

"Ale, what are you doing," he hissed, looking up at the others with a nervous, apologetic smile. "Ah, sorry, guys, he's not exactly in the best--"

"GET OUT!"

Applin flinched back as Ale tried to jerk out of the strings to no avail. Instead, his arms collided with the counter again with a loud thunk.

"Everyone-- go home. Get out, get out!"

Joel smirked and snickered at Ale’s behavior where as Max quickly reached over and tried to quiet Ale, turning to Joel with a scowl. “¡Joel, Cállate!” Max hissed at him. As much as he didn’t want Ale to try and fight with his parental friend, he also needed to explain a lot to Joel. “Let ‘em go!”

Joel rolled his eyes again. “I let him go, he’s going to make an even bigger ruckus. I’m not going to leave just because he’s in denial.” He shrugged and unattached the strings from the bar, leaving them wrapped around his wrists. “If you want me to let your friend go, let’s see what he will do then, shall we?”

Slowly, the barkeep lifted his arms, simply looking at his freed hands. Then, suddenly, he lunged towards the marionette. If it wasn't for Applin and Max barely holding him back, he would have been wringing the creep's wooden neck.

"Lemme go! Lemme go-- get out!" At this point, the bar was empty save for them. No one wanted to be around the agitated bartender, or whoever was the object of his anger. "Lemme go so I can wring 'is damn neck then throw 'im out!!"

Max grunted against the struggle of holding him back. “Even if you did Ale, they’d still come back! You’ve sparked a game with ‘em! Just stop it and get a hold of yourself!” He snapped. Without thinking, he added, “what’d swirl think of ya if she were to walk’n ‘ere? You’d lose ‘er for sure!!”

“¿Quién es Swirl, hijo?” Joel hummed, leaning against the bar. “¿Encontró el amuleto de la suerte un amante después de todo?”

Max grumbled a few profanities under his breath before looking over at Joel. “No, he had one until you pulled your strings to get him to cheat on her.” He snapped. “Now, he’s got nothing because of you that night.”

Joel widened his eyes. “Wait, what?!” He stuttered. “I did no such thing!!”

As they talked, the two could feel Ale slowly stop struggling. Then, he began to shake as he became a dead weight in their arms. The poor, drunken fool had turned into a sobbing mess.

"She'd hate me 'cause it was all my fault," he blubbered, pressing the heels of his hands against his eyes. "She already hates me. I'm just... I just..."

"Max, what is he talkin' about," Applin whispered across his broken brother. "Did something happen between him and Swirl?"

Max looked over at Applin in disappointment. “Selling your soul wasn’t the only mistake he’s made the nights I’m not there to stop him at the casino,” he muttered quietly to him. “It’s mainly why she’s not been here for a while.

Joel crossed his arms across his chest as he looked at Ale then Max. “So, you’re saying that he was with someone? Even before that night?”

"Not that night--" Ale let out a loud sniff. "A-another n-night. And n-now..."

He started right back up again, prompting Applin to roll his eyes and slowly lower him to the counter.

"... Yes, he's been going steady with one of the A'LaMode girls for a long time," he said, dusting his hands on his apron while his brother blubbered away. Now that all the customers had left, he really had no choice but to be involved. Not that he was happy about it, of course. "It's probably the longest I've ever seen him stay with someone... ah, ever, really. He's always been the kind of idiot that just sleeps around then either dumps them or gets dumped right away. This is the first one that's been... different."

"I'll say he's an idiot alright," Joel sneered angrily. His green eyes flared, his hands curling into fists before he crossed his arms across his chest. "He has some nerve, lying to girls like that. If I'd have known he was with someone that night, I'd have smacked his drunkass face so hard it'd crack."

"Joel!! Not helping!!" Max snapped at him. To which Joel's fiery glare turned towards him.

"Max, you really think I'm gonna be happy about this myself?! That I'm just gonna walk away as though it were nothing?!" Joel snapped. "When I am dressed the part, I am a worker girl, not a homewrecker. Now, because of this cabrón, I'm going to be seen as a worker girl who steals other girl's men. That does not fly well with me!"

There was a moment of silence, save for the snivveling mug still slumped across the counter. Applin looked between the three of them for a moment, then finally let out a tired sigh. Looks like he was back to cleaning up his brother's messes. Who was he to think that was finally over, right?

"Look... my brother does a lot of dumb stuff. No one's going to say it was your fault. You were paid, I think, and it was his mistake. Not yours. There's no one else to blame but this stupid mug, same as always. Max, you don't have to defend him for being selfish. He's finally getting what's been coming to him for a very long time."

The glare the barkeep shot the older brother was almost cold as he collected some of the empty glasses around them.

"You guys just got caught up in another round of dumb decisions, and I'm not gonna let him push the blame off on someone else like he always does. It's about time he finally paid up his debts."

Max glanced at Joel with a disapproving glare. “Applin, I’m not defending ‘em because of the wrong he’s done. I’m tryin’ ta keep Joel from getting any ideas. He’s the one ya should be worried about, because of what they are. Take it from someone who found out after the fact.”

Joel on the other hand was still frowning at Ale, his arms wrapped against his chest. “I never pinned him as a crybaby over losing someone. Relationships are so fickle, it’s why I don’t see the point in them.” Joel shrugged then stretched his arms above his head. “Anywho, don’t know what you’re talking about, Maxy Waxy. Debts and deals with me are far better than the ones my father ropes others into. At least with me there are no strings or hoops to jump through after terms are met. Mainly why I went to do business with Lucky charm that night. My father wasn’t too thrilled that he was on a winning streak. That kind of luck draws him in.”

"Your... father?" Applin took a step back "Your father? Your father is the devil?!" A flash of fear flickered through his eyes as he quickly glanced between Joel and Max. However, there was nowhere for him to go, other than to stay and hope he could last the conversation.

"How in the world is that even possible? You're... You're a wooden doll!"

Joel laughed at Applin’s response, humored even. “Goodness it’s been a while since anyone was afraid of me.” He chuckled. Max scowled at him, shaking his head and silently telling him dont do it. Unfortunately, this only encouraged Joel more.

“Yes, I’m a wooden doll, Today.” He said casually. “If it were something I wanted, I could be a scarecrow tomorrow, a tin man the next, anything I wanted to be I can be.”

He leaned forward and grinned at Applin, his green eyes glowing brightly. “If I really wanted to, I could even steal your brothers body as my own. Anything with a soul is technically game for me to take over, or possess as some call it. How do you think I can be a beautiful worker girl one day and a showman the next?”

((To be continued!))

[belletristbooks]

WINNING ENTRY

"This ending literally brought me to tears. It felt to me like the writer deeply understood Lucy and how she thinks and acts, and stylistically this piece made me feel like I was reading an epilogue that flowed seamlessly from the end of the book. I was really impressed with the writing, and loved how the author brought back the kaleidoscope from The Light We Lost and echoed lines and thoughts that existed in The Light We Lost. The interactions between the kids and between Lucy and the kids felt so real to me, too. I really, really loved this one." - The Light We Lost author, Jill Santopolo.

"Bench" by: Kelsey Winter @Kwinter916

Sometimes objects seem like they’ve witnessed history. The park bench I’m sitting on is covered in different color ink. Blue smiley faces, Green and pink squiggly line, but most importantly names paired together with a heart surrounding them. Past lovers have spent their time holding hands on this bench, piling legs on top of laps, sneaking kisses when no one is looking. They loved each other so much they solidified it by drawing their names for everyone to see. This bench has seen so much.

“Momma!” I peel my eyes from the seat of the bench. “Robbie, you need to keep your hat on or you’ll lose it.” I say grabbing his blue beanie from his hand, and set it on his curly haired-head.

“Momma, Liam took my kaleidoscope.”

“Liam,” I say in a mother tone that took many years to perfect. He’s standing far away with his arms crossed, but he rolls his eyes and groans. He runs over to us, his face in a grimace. “You know it’s not nice to take things.”

“Sorry.” He plops the kaleidoscope in Robbie’s hands and runs back to the jungle gym that is crawling with other kids. “Hey buddy,” I grab Robbie’s wrist before he can chase after his brother. “Why don’t you let me hold onto that so you don’t lose it.” “But…” His lip quivers.

“I promise to keep it safe.” I smile at him, and he smiles right back. His dimple appears in the same spot it always did. People always say that my kids look just like me, but only I can see that Robbie is an exact replica of you, Gabe. You would have loved standing next to him. Seeing his face light up with his words just like yours. How he takes a moment to process things, before reevaluating the situation. The way his curls flop in his eyes when he runs. He is you. I let go of his hand, and he is quick to get to the other kids. I rotate the kaleidoscope in my hands and let my eyes close for just a brief moment.

There I was twenty-three, crisscrossed in our living room surrounded by photographs of you and your mother. Your smile illuminating the room, your laugh filling my ears, your dimple so prominent. You were my binary star then, and just like that you were gone. That night in the living room with the kaleidoscope photos is a memory I can easily slip back into. Are you in heaven lying on your back with your mom staring at the different colors strung from the sky? Is there a heaven Gabe? I’d like to think that’s where you are. I try to think of a different memory every day. I conjure every detail: what you were wearing, how you smelled, your hair wet, my wrinkled shirt. Anything to keep you alive in my memory. But years have passed, and I’ve run out of memories for us. It doesn’t feel fair to make up new ones. Made up memories leave me disappointed, so I stick with real ones.

I open my eyes to see my kids playing together. One of them binds me to you forever, and that idea makes me smile. We’re tethered together, can you feel it still Gabe? Robbie was my road less travelled. You were the road I wish I travelled.

Darren didn’t understand me in that way. Darren still doesn’t see me as more than a mother. I wrote an episode for It Takes A Galaxy a year after you were gone. It’s about losing a loved one. Darren didn’t think I should be introducing death so early to kids, but he doesn’t understand losing someone is just as confusing to adults as it is to children. I’m still confused by it, Gabe. Darren doesn’t know about Robbie, but there are moments when I drop the kids at his apartment, and he will watch Robbie with careful eyes. I didn’t tell him, but I’m scared that deep down he senses it. I loved Darren, there will always be a part of me that does. But you opened something inside me that last day we spent spiraled together. I pushed the feelings away for the first three years of Robbie’s life. The more he grew, the more you shined through him. Now, my kids are enough for me. I am enough for me.

I dig through my bag and find a black Sharpie that was hidden under old receipts and straw wrappers. I rest the kaleidoscope in my lap, and pull off the cap from the marker. Sometimes I find myself waiting for my phone to light up with your name on the screen, or for one of your pictures to appear in the New York Times. It’s ridiculous isn’t it. I draw a heart where the seat of the bench meets the back rest. I write a curly “LC” on one side and next to that I write a “GS.” This bench doesn’t seem complete unless it has the story of Lucy and Gabe. Here lies our history, our story, your legacy. I put the cap back on the marker and throw it in my bag. I stare at our initials. After all these years, your initials still look right next to mine.

“Kids!” I call out and the three of them come running. I scan each to make sure they have everything. They are huffing from running across the playground. My eyes stop on Robbie. His nose is running a bit, but his smile is there, just like always. “Let’s go home,” I say. Sometimes I catch myself staring at Robbie for a moment too long. I remember us sometimes so hard, that I feel myself crumbling. I’m there, with you, your finger traced my bottom lip, while your other one was lost in my hair. But when I come out of my mind, and I always do, I see my kids and their smiling faces. I see me and I see you, and I can keep going.

RUNNER UP

"It was so cool to see Lucy and Gabe's son come to life as a college student, the exact same age that Lucy and Gabe were when they met. And as I read this one, I could imagine a child who combined the essence of Lucy and Gabe and then added his own twist to the mix becoming a screenwriter and going to UCLA and thinking and speaking exactly the way he did. I also loved seeing that Kate and Lucy still maintained their close relationship, that Lucy's kids had found love--and Darren had, too. Stylistically, I liked how the author used the back-and-forth, sliding-into-memories aspect of The Light We Lost as the structure for this piece, along with the plot echo of loved ones flying long distance to be at someone's bedside. I like how the author used Lucy as the "you" in this one, too, almost as a response to the final chapter of the book where Lucy uses her unborn child as the "you." - The Light We Lost author, Jill Santopolo.

"What You Never Said" by: Bethany Sampson @sampsonbee

Violet was the one who called me. She was on the phone, quietly breathing, crying. It was weird, because we usually can’t get her to stop talking, but with the exception of her sniffling, she was silent. And I knew, I just knew, it was you. I didn’t make Violet say it. I don’t even think Violet could’ve made herself say it. Kate beeped in, and I told Violet I’d be there as soon as I could, and then I switched over. Maggie was beside me, all wide, glassy eyes and bitten lips and destroyed fingernails, and so I went into the bathroom to talk to Kate, shutting the door tight behind me. I guess I was expecting Kate to tell me about you, to fill in the spaces Violet had left blank. Instead, she told me about him. The phone call from Violet had fucked up my night—my brain—in all sorts of ways, but it was the news from Kate that really did me in. Kate said you’d always planned to tell me when I turned eighteen, but then I chose UCLA, and she said you were afraid this would make me never come home again. But I know, Mom. And I’m still here.

I took the Red-Eye, but I couldn’t sleep. Maggie was curled up beside me, and maybe normally I would’ve cared that she was squeezing my hand to a point of near-breakage, but instead it kept me from feeling like I could float away completely. I was going to read, was going to do something other than think about you and think about him, but I couldn’t be the asshole using his overhead light, illuminating an otherwise dark plane. So I took out my laptop, and even though I meant to open up my script, to incorporate my professor’s latest feedback into the story—I think you’d really like this one—I opened up Google instead, typing each letter of his name until a series of photos appeared. I had to scroll through a lot, you know, until I found one of him, instead of just taken by him. I had to scroll past photos of a younger you and a broken world and a more hopeful tomorrow that’s only now coming. And then there he was. It sort of freaked me out a bit. Because I look like him. Everyone’s always said I look like you, I guess because I never looked like Dad. (Should I be calling him Darren now? It feels too strange to call him Darren now.) I want to be mad at you, but all I could think—all I can think—is how it must break your heart every time you look at me and see him.

Maggie is freaking out a little. No. She’s freaking out a lot, which I guess is only a little more than usual. If there’s no other reason to come back, Mom, please let it be for Maggie. I mean, God, not that you need or even want to know this right now—or ever, I guess—but we were about to have sex for the first time—and I mean really JUST about—when Violet called. Maggie read this article that said couples who wait sixty days to have sex are like a million percent more likely to stay together. It was just after one on Day Sixty when Violet called. It'd only been just after midnight when Maggie had shown up at my door. Gorgeous and nervous, though strangely a lot less nervous than usual. And when she kissed me, it was like I was the thing in life she was most certain about. I want you to know her, Mom. So you can see we’re both in this. Even when it’s hard. Even when it’s work. It’s weird, because when Maggie was little, she used to have this imaginary friend named Gabe. And I know it’s just a coincidence, but you can’t be three months away from an undergraduate degree in film, and still believe that coincidences are just coincidences. In the movies, everything is fate. She had this weird life. Maggie, I mean. Or not weird, I guess. But hard. And not like love hard. But really hard. Shitty parents, mostly. And eventually she was adopted by the super not-shitty Greg and Leanne—you’d like them—but back then, she was alone. Had too many thoughts and no one to share them with. So, she imagined a boy named Gabe, and he listened to her problems, and he made her feel less alone. We were babysitting her foster sister, Riley, this past winter, and a nativity movie was playing idly in the background. When the angel, Gabriel, appeared, Maggie told me about her Gabe. Do you remember the Christmas after I transferred to St. Jude’s Prep, Mom? I was cast as Gabriel in the Christmas pageant. You got all weird, saying I should’ve stuck with secular public schools, and when you brought it up to Dad, he got all mad, told you he knew what this was really about. I didn’t get it. I was only seven, and what was wrong with angels? But I guess I get it now—your Gabe was also an angel. I told this story to Maggie that night. We were still only just friends, but already I wanted her to know everything. I told her how that day felt like the beginning of the end, how you and Dad were separated by the next Christmas, divorced by the one after that. I don’t talk about the divorce a lot. Not even with Violet and Liam. I guess because if I talked about it, I’d have to ask why it always seemed like Dad liked me less, resented me most. I guess, spoiler alert, because I wasn’t his. But he pretended I was, and you pretended I was, and I’m not sure I really get it. Maybe before you divorced it made sense to keep it a secret, but afterward? Unless you did it for me. Unless you both did it for me. Because you wanted me to have a dad? Because you didn’t want me to be left out from trips to Disney World with Liam and Violet, or miss out on the second Christmas at Dad and Ella’s, or summers spent in the Hamptons? And I’m grateful. I really am. But I guess, also, I still did feel left out. Like I never quite fit in. Because even if you pretended, even if Dad pretended, it was still always just a game of pretend. And it would’ve been nice to know why.

We’re all here now. Liam and Ryan, Violet and Annie Junior the Third. Have you met New Annie yet? She’s still in that yappy puppy stage, but she’s so fucking cute that I know when we get back to LA, Maggie’s going to try and con me into a trip to the animal shelter. And honestly, it probably won’t even require all that much conning. You’ve met Ryan though, right? Liam is so upside-down-in-love, I keep forgetting that they haven’t actually been together forever. But it’s nice. To see Liam this way. Happy. Even Dad and Ella are here. Their hands clasped together tightly, like they’re knotted in a joint prayer.

I started sobbing, somewhere between LA and NYC, twenty-thousand feet above the world. Maggie’s eyes stayed closed, but she squeezed me tighter, and it just kept hitting me—overoverover and over again—that you might be gone. That you soon could be gone. When I finally calmed down a bit, I went back online and found this site dedicated to Gabe’s photos, and I started scrolling through them. They were beautiful. Really fucking beautiful. And the thing that makes me most sad about all of this is that he never got the chance to see that things got a bit better. I mean, they got worse, too. But now they’re finally getter better. There’s hope. Real, visceral hope. And he could’ve documented the hell out of it. Do you remember that script I wrote freshman year? The shitty one about the werewolf? I keep thinking of that screenplay. How, beside my shit grade, my professor wrote, “Never lose your feverish hopefulness.” I don’t know. I was offended at the time, thinking I’d written an Oscar-worthy screenplay, and he was essentially calling me naïve. But I saw that photo of you, the one Gabe took of you asleep on the couch, still hugging your laptop and a script. I saw that, and I got it.

Wanting things, being hopeful for them, maybe even being a bit naïve—it’s not a bad thing. In fact, it kind of feels like the only thing.

We’re all here, in this too white, too bright, room. And we’re surrounding you, squeezing hands together, whispering prayers, finally all fitting in together. And we’re holding onto something, Mom. It’s hope, and light. And it’s you.

[kamuwrites]

In the Bag, Ch 6/10 (a One Piece gen cat fanfic)

Fic Summary: All pirates have hordes of treasure. It just so happens in this life, cats are the treasure in Luffy’s.

Chapter Title: Merry Whatsit Things

Words: 2048 (Not the game)

read on ao3

Buggy used to live in a lot of shitty places while on the run from the cops when he was a sprouting young criminal. He liked to think he escaped that life once he established a rule of terror in an unknown East Blue town with a name not worth remembering anymore.

A few years of living as boss gave him a shady construction business in which he was rolling in dough. The whole shindig had illegally imported explosives and everything. Hell, he even provided dental to his workers slash underlings. His life was great.

Straw Hat ruined that window of bliss with his literal homewrecking.

When did the kid even have TIME to hotwire a bulldozer and level his entire base? He had to have stayed in town for two hours at most!

Buggy almost forgave Straw Hat. It took a country bumpkin maniac with a destructive streak to make him realize just how small his worldview had become. Sheesh, he used to have big dreams and shit. The kid reminded him by smacking him in the face like they were basic punks duking it out on the streets.

The kid packed a hefty punch, but Buggy knew he could take it. Later. After the bruise healed.

So yeah, Buggy tried to slash the kid’s tires after finding out where he worked. ‘Tried’ because motherfucking Benn Beckman caught him in the act. He was one man he did not want to cross. Anywhere Beckman was at, Red Hair certainly would be hovering around nearby. The pair were mushy and together like that, reminding single people everywhere that they were SAD, ALONE, and in his case ANGRY. Bastards.

“What about that fling with Alvida?” Luffy asked, interrupting the beautiful monologue of his worthwhile career in crime.

“Work buddies. Don’t shit where you eat,” Buggy sniffed.

Alvida told him the things Luffy did when he disbanded her gang. Frankly, he thought they didn’t measure up to the deeds Straw Hat did to him. It looked like Luffy turned her life around for the better, if the kid couldn’t recognize her from the pig she once was. He avoided a kick to the crotch after that.

Now that he thought about it, Buggy himself was profiting from the waves that kid brought to his nowhere nook town. He’d never tell the brat, but Luffy had punched the idle satisfaction from his body that day.

“Hm,” Luffy said, watching a fly buzz by as he ate.

Buggy could see his reply fazed through him. Anything not concerning meat and cats were filtered out of his brain.

“Speaking of places to eat,” Buggy said, watching Luffy perk up immediately. “You need to get out of this place. I killed like five roaches on my way to kitchen.”

Luffy let Robin, one of the newer additions, settle into his lap. “Whaddya mean? Here is fine,” he said.

“Uh, kid?” Buggy said. He gestured to the peeling walls and the paper panels lined with cat sized holes. Half of them were repaired with index cards and duck tape. “Your house is falling apart. You have a bug problem. I think a freaking rat scuttled past my ankle when I was taking a shit in the toilet. Not a mouse. A RAT.”

Luffy tilted his head. “Robin and Sanji can take care of them. They’re both former barn cats,” he replied.

“Your water doesn’t spit out hot anymore,” Buggy said.

“I can go to the public baths,” Luffy returned easily.

“There’s no AC,” Buggy tried.

“We can open the doors and hang up the mosquito net,” Luffy put forth.

“Kid!” Buggy shouted. “There is MOLD infesting the kitchen ceiling.”

Buggy took brief satisfaction at the way Luffy hesitated. The feeling was short lived, however. He had to break the bad news to Luffy, which was as unpredictable of a situation as predicting a storm. The guy would either take it like a champ or refuse to budge.

...Or, Luffy would make this godawful devastated face like someone had told him one of his cats had died. Buggy HATED the possibility of that outcome. He always knew to avoid it whenever he brushed the topic of family. Despite being unfazed even in the face of death and the muzzle of a gun, Luffy still had hang ups like anyone else.

And Buggy would completely take full advantage of that, if only the threats of an internationally wanted fugitive and the hellstorm that be a retired ATTORNEY GENERAL weren’t breathing down his neck…

Oh, and Shanks could go fuck himself. Those crow’s feet and bleached gray hair all the way down to Beckman’s roots? Nuh-uh. Buggy ain’t taking a part of that circus, not yet.

“That’s not good for you or the cats,” Buggy continued, pushing the Monkey D. elders and the inevitable forthcoming of old age to the back of his mind. “The kitchen is where everyone eats. Not all of the furry things have strong immune systems, not like you.”

Luffy’s face was doing that thing where he was thinking. All signs pointed to this being a herald for bad ideas.

Buggy already made it this far. He might as well finish his guilt trip to the end of its bittersweet journey.

“Straw Hat Luffy,” Buggy said, standing up and heading toward the front door. “You can do better.”

Of course, that was where the metaphorical bad weather ended for a while.

Buggy assumed, with the radio silence, maybe Luffy decided to be sensible for once. Hey, he might even listen to Buggy’s advice and Buggy could rein it over his head forever!

Nope. Someone chose the absolute WORST outcome to come to fruition.

Monkey D. Luffy made his choice, on his own terms.

“Call on line 3 for you…” Mohji said to him one day.

Buggy, like the inattentive fucker he was, didn’t notice how pale his underling looked. He had to go ahead and take the call like an ignorant fool.

“I’ll give back the bulldozer in two days,” Luffy started.

Buggy hurled the entire phone set against the wall.

***

The village mayor had to be certain.

“Are you absolutely sure this is a cat?” Dalton asked the young man.

“Yeah! Geez, I know what’s a cat and what isn’t!” Luffy said.

Dalton looked over at the pudgy hooved animal. It watched him with clear wide eyes from its place in Luffy’s lap, as if daring him to contradict its adopted human.

“It has hooves,” Dalton said.

“He’s self-conscious about that.” Luffy nodded. “He’s not as polycrocodile as Nami and Robin are.”

“No tail?” he asked.

“Chopper is the opposite of Usopp!” Luffy exclaimed with a laugh.

Dalton frowned. “He’s a baby now, but he’ll probably grow horns in the future when he turns into an adult,” he persisted. How would this kid explain that?

“Horns?” Luffy lifted Chopper to look him in the eye. “Are you going to grow horns, Chopper?”

The goat-cat blinked slowly at Luffy. He turned his head to look at Dalton and then turned back to Luffy.

Chopper bleeped.

“He says sure, but they’ll fall off on their own,” Luffy said.

Dalton was at an impasse. He had troubles accepting that someone could be so stubborn about an animal’s presumed classification. Was it against certain animal laws if he just let this boy take a wild deer-goat-cat as a pet?

“No worries, Bull-guy,” Luffy assured, stretching to pat him on the shoulder. “Doctor-lady told me Chopper is a cat. I’ve never seen a cat like him before, so I guess I haven’t seen ‘em all!”

Their resident doctor and veterinarian told Luffy this? Dalton had never questioned her expertise in animal care before, but what would she gain from teasing a young boy from out of town?

“She approves of you taking him with you?” Dalton sighed.

“Mm! I told her my new place is near the sea and mountains, so she Hail Mary-ed Chopper into my arms and told me to get out! You should visit once we’re done building,” Luffy said.

Luffy placed a creased card onto Dalton’s palm. The paper shone in laminated purples, yellows, and reds with a splash of brown. It was all backdrop to a cheery lion shaped cleverly like a sun or a flower.

“The ‘Thousand Sunny’,” Dalton read on the other side.

“For the thousands of sunny days ahead of us,” Luffy followed up, swinging Chopper around in a circle.

It made sense with what Luffy wanted to do with the animal sanctuary. He briefly thought maybe he caught onto what Dr Kureha had intended in leaving the goat-cat-dog-deer to Luffy. Their small suburban town in the cold north was no place for an active animal that belonged in the wild. In an animal sanctuary, Chopper would have a better and longer life than the one he had with his herd, or so the Doctor had bitterly told him while drunk.

“Will Chopper have a lot of friends?” Dalton asked.

Luffy stopped and set down Chopper, who wobbled on shaky legs before collapsing onto a nearby pillow. The goat-cat-dog’s tongue stuck out as he tried to regain his sense of balance.

“You bet! There’s Zoro, Nami, Usopp, Sanji—”

Dalton listened as Luffy told him of their happy and growing family.

“It sounds fun wherever you guys are,” he said once he found a gap in one-sided conversation.

Luffy beamed. “That’s right!” he agreed.

Dalton stepped up and patted the young man on the back. He glanced over his shoulder and grinned at the approaching people, more particularly the grumpy doctor refusing help from the younger veterinarians around her.

“Take care of him. I know Chopper has dealt with plenty of coldness in his life. He could use a lot of warmth from now on,” he said as he turned Luffy to the arrivals.

“Nami! Sanji!” Luffy took off toward the sleeping cats being rolled into the waiting room. He barrelled into the hovering veterinarians in his haste. The room quickly filled with many protests.

“You brats! Don’t wake them! They just came out of surgery and need rest!” Dr. Kureha whipped out a pair of latex gloves and whacked the jumpy young man with them.

“They’re okay now?” Luffy peered at the cats on the cart, taking care to keep his voice significantly lower.

“Yes, you impatient buffoon. Sit with Chopper, I need to pack and write up the basics for his care and the cats’ aftercare for you before you take off.” She waved the boy away and glared at the surrounding vets. “You bunch need to leave me be before I bring out the meter stick.”

Taking heed to the woman’s hand inching toward her hip where she kept the retractable not-weapon, the vets scattered.

Dalton felt he had overstayed his welcome. He headed toward the glass doors of the clinic, before someone cleared their throat behind him.

“You must’ve distracted the brat well enough, if he managed to stay in this room for four hours straight without interrupting me,” the doctor said, one hip and an eyebrow cocked.

He scratched the back of his neck sheepishly.

“I think it’s the other way around,” he admitted.

She snorted. “I’m a creature of solitude, so I know when someone isn’t. That boy,” she jutted her chin at Luffy attempting to imitate Chopper’s hops, “is someone who loves and needs love. I’d almost think he’s more animal in that aspect, but most humans need others to live fully. Otherwise, we’d die before our time.”

“Is that so?” Dalton took vague amusement as Chopper perched on Luffy’s shoulder like he was a mountain face, accidentally knocking over his hat.

“Of course. I’m an old woman who has found the secret to longevity. However, I haven’t found the right way to love Chopper in the way he needs. That’s why I’m allowing Straw Hat to steal my cute apprentice.” Dr. Kureha chuckled at Dalton’s baffled expression. “He’s very good at fetch, that Chopper.”

As if to demonstrate, Chopper jumped down and presented Luffy the hat in between his teeth.

“Cats don’t do fetch,” Dalton reminded with a twinge of his lips.

“Oh, shut it, brat,” Dr. Kureha said to the noises of amazement and praise filling up the small clinic waiting room.

TBC

[werenskheeyyy]

With You - Connor McDavid

Ok so I wrote this when I was sleep deprived so please just bear with me if there are any mistakes or anything!  Also I’m so so sorry for the brief day break I took, like has been a lot to deal with lately.  I loved the prompt for this and I’m pretty pleased with how it turned out! Much love pals! <3

Word count: 1148

Warnings: just a few swear words

Request: “14 with either phil myers or connor mcdavid please :))” - @mandybbear44

Prompt: “Hey, I’m with you ok? Always.”

Up next: Anders Lee

**********

“Ohhh let’s go here for lunch babe!  I love their burgers!”  you dragged Connor over to a restaurant as you two strolled around downtown Vancouver.    

“I’m always down for a good burger!” Connor agreed, eagerly following you.  

You and Connor had decided to get out and enjoy the nice weather today, walking around the city and doing some shopping.  The waitress sat you out on the patio, taking your drink orders and returning moments later to ask what you wanted to eat.

“As much as I hate that the season’s over I’m really glad I get to spend more time with you” Connor said, resting his hand on yours from across the table.

You smiled, swirling your straw in your drink, “it’s nice hey?  We’ve both been so busy that I didn’t really realize how little we saw each other to be honest.”

“I know!” he groaned, “we have the worst schedules!”

“Agreed!” you laughed.  You had a full time job and were taking online classes for school while Connor was always travelling for hockey so it was hard for the both of you to find time for one another.

“Oh my god you’re Connor McDavid! Can I please please get a picture??” a little boy asked as he shyly walked up to the table.

“Of course buddy!” Connor put down his drink and turned to the little boy with a grin.  

You and Connor didn’t get to go out together very often just considering how well known he was, so you had gotten pretty used to fans always coming up and asking for pictures or autographs.  And today, he had worn sunglasses and a hat but it clearly hadn’t fooled this little guy.

Connor gave the little boy a high five and turned back to you once the child had walked away.  “Sorry about that” he apologized.

“Don’t be! That boy was adorable” you smiled.  The waitress brought over your meals and you both thanked her than immediately dug in.

Just as you had gotten a french fry into your mouth, another couple kids walked up asking Connor for pictures.  And of course he said yes, then asked you to take them so you grabbed the boy’s phone and took several pictures.

By now you had become very aware of whispers around you: “that’s Connor McDavid”, “he’s the captain of the Oilers!”, “let’s go ask for a picture.”

You sat there, picking at your fries as a small group of people began to form around your table.  You watched as Connor gave them all pictures and autographs, turning around every so often to mouth sorry and give you a comforting smile.

You gave him a small, tight lipped smile back.  Most of the time your heart would just swell with how proud you were of Connor and how kind he was but today you were getting a little annoyed.  You had barely seen Connor in months and just wanted to spend some uninterrupted, quality time with your boyfriend.

You played on your phone to try and pass some time as the crowd seemed to grow but when you looked up you were not very impressed with what you had seen.  There was a group of girls probably around your age that had flocked to Connor.  They were hanging all over him, touching his bicep and making flirty remarks.  And not to mention they were all absolutely gorgeous.  You gave them a death glare as a couple of them gave their numbers to your boyfriend but they acted like you didn’t even exist.  And clearly Connor seemed to be enjoying himself, laughing back and making conversation with them, which started to make you a little worried.  

Deep down you knew that Connor loved you but there was always this tiny insecurity in the back of your mind that you couldn’t shake.  What if he met someone else when he was out on the road?  Someone who was prettier than you, or smarter than you, or could actually go to all of his games.

You sat there deep in thought when you were interrupted by a deep voice, “Y/N, hey, there’ll all gone.  I’m so sorry.”

You looked up and realized that Connor had sat back down in front of you and the crowd had dispersed.  “It’s fine” you murmured, shoving the last couple fries into your mouth.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” he frowned.

You shook your head, “nothing, I’m fine”

He gave you a look of concern, then asked the waitress if she could pack up his meal to go.

You paid the bill and walked silently back to the car.  Once you both got in Connor turned to you, “ok I’m not moving this vehicle until you tell me what’s wrong.”

“It’s fine babe. Don’t worry about it.”

“No it’s not fine, cause you looked absolutely miserable at lunch.”

“Fuck, ok.” You took a deep breath.  “what if you meet someone else?”

“What?” he looked absolutely astonished.  “How could you even say that?”

“Those girls today that came up to us were all stunning and they clearly loved you and you seemed to like them and they’re definitely prettier than me but what if they’re also smarter than I am? And can come watch all of your games all the time? They looked at me like I was nothing so maybe you can find someone better” you blurted out, your eyes beginning to water.

“Y/N, how could you think that?” he sighed, turning his attention to you and taking your hands in his.

“Because they’re all so much better than me” tears now falling down your face.

Connor placed his hands on your cheeks, using his thumbs to gently wipe off the droplets from your face.  “I love you so much Y/N, you’re absolutely everything to me.  Look at me!”

You lifted your gaze from the car floor to meet Connor’s.  “None of those girls in there compare to you ok?  You’re the most gorgeous girl I’ve ever laid eyes on and you are one of the smartest and most hardworking people I know.  And even though you can’t be at every game you always take time out of your busy life to watch them on tv and text me after to tell me I played a great game even if I played like shit.”

“I do try to be the best girlfriend ever” you sniffled, now you were crying because of how touched you were by Connor’s words.

“You most definitely are the best girlfriend ever.  And those girls were fans, that’s all they are to me I absolutely swear. Just fans.”  He leaned forward, pressing his lips to your forehead and pulling you in for a hug

“I love you so much Con, thank you for being the most incredible human” you murmured into his chest.

“I love you too Y/N, I’m with you ok? Always.”

[chronicallyhaughty]

I Really Really Really Really Really Really Like You

“Are we dating?” he asked, and Jason’s face turned red. It reminded Dick of the colors he’d seen when he first blinked. “There are a lot of colors, Jason.”

[JayDick, AO3, Ko-fi]

Dick blinked himself awake. Then he blinked again, just to watch the colors swirl.

“Hey buddy, how you feelin’?”

Someone was talking. Dick tilted his head, even though it was very heavy, to the right. Oh, there they were. Dick smiled at the man sitting on a chair by his bed. He was wearing a…

“Hat,” he supplied, feeling proud when the man laughed, dragging a hand down his face.

“Yeah, you probably feel pretty amazing right now, don’t you?”

Dick did feel pretty amazing.

“I feel,” he started, but then there was a door, and it was opening, and an actual angel appeared.

“Ah, you’re awake. About time, Dickhead, pretty sure Baby Bat was about to stage a revolution.”

Dick didn’t care about anything but this guy’s face, even when the man paused and just met his eyes for a long while. Not long enough.

“Why are you– why’s he staring at me like that?”

“Beats me, man.” Shush, hat. Angel was talking. “He’s on some serious drugs.”

Irritated, Dick flapped his hand (more like flopped it) at the man in the hat, shushing him. He wanted to touch that white spot in the hair. It looked soft.

“Are you soft?”

He had to know, it was vital.

“What?” 

Hat was laughing again but Dick let him. Hat didn’t matter. Angel looked good (he looked bewildered). He wasn’t answering Dick’s question though, so he tried to reach for the white but his arms weren’t long enough.

He expressed his displeasure (he whined like a toddler) and tried in vain to reach Angel who sat down heavily on the other chair in the room, immediately to Dick’s left. This meant that Dick could now reach his leg. It was a good leg.

“I like your leg.” 

Angel’s mouth was hanging open so Dick smiled at him. Hat chose this moment to fall off the chair and Dick’s head was so heavy but he still managed to turn it to look. He couldn’t see Hat anymore and got worried.

“Hat?!” He tried to sit up but everything was too heavy. A freckled arm held up the hat, waving it where he could see it, so he calmed down. Hat was okay. “He’s okay.”

“He sure sounds like it,” Angel remarked grumpily, almost too quiet to be heard over Hat’s gasping laughter.

“Oh man, I’m never letting you live this down, Dick.” 

Hat was getting up, but Dick had fingers. He had… a lot of them. Several. Many. 

“Aight, I can’t handle this. I’m gonna let the rest of the Batclan know that he’s awake, you’ll stay with him, right? Right. Bye, Dick!”

Hat was gone, but Angel was still sitting with him. Dick smiled besottedly at him.

“Are you gonna be here forever?” was what he tried to say but he started coughing in the middle of it. Man, his throat was dry.

“Here.” 

A straw was in front of his face. He crossed his eyes to try to look at it but decided to put it in his mouth instead. The water felt good on his dry throat, and he made sure to tell Angel about it. Did Angel have a name?

“It’s… I’m Jason, Dickie.” Jason. Jason was smiling a little and Dick was in love, he was sure of it.

“Are we dating?” he asked, and Jason’s face turned red. It reminded Dick of the colors he’d seen when he first blinked. “There are a lot of colors, Jason.”

“Damn you, Roy, leaving me alone with this…”

Jason sighed, covering his face and Dick didn’t like that so he pouted. This time Jason was close enough that he could touch his hair. Startled, Jason jerked his head up from where he’d buried his face in his hands, elbows resting on his knees.

“You’re very pretty, Jason. I like you.” He grabbed his hand. It felt rough but he liked it anyway, even though he wasn’t sure why. He felt sleepy again. “I’d give you anything…”

“Go the fuck to sleep, Dick.” 

He liked the way Jason said his name so fondly, and drifted off with a smile on his face.

—

When Dick awoke again everything felt much less floaty. He gave a pained groan and lifted a hand to rub at the bridge of his nose. Damn, but his head ached.

“Are you with us?” 

Blinking against the fluorescent lights, he looked to his left where he found Barbara peering at him over her glasses. There was a computer resting on her lap and a mug of tea, still steaming faintly with heat, on the table beside his bed. He recognized the room as one of the surgery recovery rooms at the manor.

He opened his mouth to give an affirmative but only a dry croak came out. Setting her laptop aside, Barbara leaned over to grab a bottle of water from the mini fridge built into the side table. She put a straw in and he smiled gratefully at her when she placed it within sipping distance. Once he didn’t feel like his throat was made of sandpaper he replied,

“Yeah, I’m with you. What happened?”

Babs put a finger over her mouth, giving a meaningful glance to the window opposite her. When Dick looked over, he found Damian sleeping curled up on the window sill, mouth slightly open and looking his age for once. Dick sent him a fond look before turning back to a softly smiling Babs.

“You got hit by some debris and had to go through surgery. Nothing major, by our standards. The doc’ll go over what you’re not allowed to do for a few weeks,” Babs explained in a quiet voice. Dick was about to ask her to elaborate when the door opened and Roy entered.

“The Hat is back!” he proclaimed with a grin, making Damian jerk awake with a startled noise. “Whoops, sorry, kiddo.”

“Tt. Your voice is grating, Harper.” 

Damian gave him a solemn nod and Dick tried his best to return it without giving in to the urge to coo at how cute his little brother was, all flustered and trying to hide it. 

“Grayson. It is good to see you awake, and in full command of your sensibilities. I shall inform Pennyworth.”

With that Damian left the room, leaving Dick mildly befuddled.

“My sensibilities?” 

He was not reassured by Roy’s answering grin. Quite the opposite. Barbara laughed and picked up her computer again, tapping away.

“Well, you see… when a certain love struck bird is on a rather high dose of painkillers…”

As Roy laid out Dick’s drug addled antics he had to struggle not to just roll off of the bed and straight out the window. He had hit on Jay? And like a complete idiot, too! Great! Fantastic!

“Ugh,” he groaned. “That’s it, I’m never gonna be able to look him in the eyes ever again.”

“Probably not, yeah,” Roy said, cheerfully. Dick groaned and shoved his head underneath the pillow, praying it would be enough to choke him to death.

–

If Jason came by the manor while Dick was bedridden he didn’t deign to visit, and for that Dick was glad. Maybe they’d be able to laugh the incident off, but as more time had passed, the blurry half hour he’d spent alone with Jason had come into focus.

He had been deeply embarrassing, and stupidly obvious, if one knew how to look. And Dick wasn’t confident that he could act like he hadn’t meant every single word he’d said.

“I’d give you anything…”

Yeah, no. Dick grimaced. That one would be hard to explain away, wouldn’t it? He pushed it out of his mind for later contemplation, preferably scheduled for never, and got off the elevator when it stopped on his floor. Fumbling his apartment keys a little, he tried to focus on deciding which prepared meal (supplied by Alfred, of course) he’d heat up that night.

He’d been released from his forced bed rest only three days previous, and was feeling a little lonely in his empty apartment. Damian had been not-so-subtly suggesting he get a pet for months before his surgery and had only gotten less subtle while Dick was confined to the manor. Or at least that was how Dick had chosen to interpret the fact that more often than not he’d woken up to Alfred the cat purring on his chest.

Still, the fact remained that Dick lived alone, and he kept such unreliable hours, what with his Nightwing persona taking up most of his nights, that having a pet would be selfish and careless. In fact, it was because of their shared lifestyle that he’d never suggested that Jason get a pet even if Dick thought it would be good for him and oh damn it, there he went, thinking about Jason again.

With a sigh, he placed his keys in their usual spot beside the door before toeing out of his shoes. He hung up his jacket, and moved toward the kitchen, not noticing at first that there was someone reclining on his couch in spite of having turned the lights on when he entered.

“Seriously?” 

Dick spun around so fast he was distantly afraid he’d just reopened his wounds. Jason was sitting up, sans helmet and domino, and raising an eyebrow in incredulity. 

“What if I’d been an axe murderer?”

“Did you come in through the window in civvies?” was what came out of Dick’s mouth.

Jason shrugged dismissively.

“No one saw. Probably.”

He was putting on an air of nonchalance. Most people wouldn’t have been able to tell, but Dick had been trained in body language from a young age, by the very same man who had trained Jason to control his. Jason was faking, covering something up.

Dick latched onto that mystery with something akin to desperation, anything to distract him from his mind blaring alarms about how Jason looked so good it was criminal, and oh, wouldn’t he look just delicious in handcuffs? Stupid brain, being stupid and unhelpful.

“So, what brings you here, Little Wing? Something you need?”

And now Jason was also being uncooperative by having the audacity to blush. Adorable. Utterly inconvenient.

“Actually, I wanted to talk. About, you know…” Uh-oh. Involuntarily, Dick tensed as if to prepare for an attack. “I was talking to Babs about it, and then I talked to Roy, and, you know, they said things…”

Dick did not know. What the hell? The adrenaline ebbed away, leaving him mostly confused.

“What?”

“Do you actually like my leg? Legs? Even when not on drugs?“ 

Jason scratched his head, looking equal parts confused and embarrassed. It worked for him though, and was that a hint of hopefulness he detected? Could it be? Emboldened, Dick couldn’t help but blurt out,

“Yes!” Well, alright. Time to face the music. “I like, uh, all of you. Actually.”

Timidly, he shifted his weight from foot to foot. What if he’d misread the situation? What if Roy was gonna pop out with a hidden camera any second, and his confession would go viral, open for mockery across the world?

Jason was staring at him. The moment stretched on, until Jason’s face broke into a grin. Was this going to be the hidden camera reveal? Dick tried to subtly check behind the couch. Could that shadow be someone hiding there?

“Dickie…” Jason’s awestruck voice drew his eyes back to his fellow vigilante. “I like all of you, too.”

Oh. Dick’s worries melted away as swiftly as they’d come. He started to grin, and Jason let out a delighted laugh, stepping closer.

“Well, besides your absurd love affair with that awful cereal, but I’m willing to overlook that.”

“Very big of you,” Dick laughed, wrapping one arm around Jason’s neck, pulling his head down into a soft kiss.

Jason laughed into the kiss and Dick felt like he was full of bubbles, like the world had been dull and gray, but now it was full of swirling colors.

[AO3, Ko-fi]

[caffeinated-muse]

To Be of Two Worlds

Chapter: 2

Word count: 2450

As expected I had arrived before Hank and the rest of the them. The station was mostly dark, the only illumination came from some desk lamps in the main office area. I headed to my desk and flicked the base of my lamp onto the highest brightness setting and sat down. 

"I guess it wouldn’t be a bad idea to start on the report," I sighed. "Cause lord knows Hank wont do it til the last minute."

Pulling out my laptop I started typing, standard information first; state of the scene, initial ideas, and such on. However, it became clear to me that I wasn’t quite in the right frame of mind to be doing this. Flashes and snippets of image and sound would yank me away from my desk and into different places. Back to my old apartment on a Sunday morning, coffee brewing behind me a card game laid out and light-hearted arguing; to a night tainted in blood and smoldering framework; machines and test after test; Hank practically smothering me in an embrace; but then one image struck me dumb. It was recent, that android stepping out after Hank. He had seemed stiff in the moment, as if his body wasn’t quite used to moving around also slightly unsure of how to interact with the people bustling around the area. His eyes betrayed the strict down to business attitude he tried to show, there was a softness in those brown orbs a light curiosity like that of a child. Wasn’t that what he was? Manufactured and shoved out into the world shortly after, true he had the body of a man but in mind and heart he knew no more about how the world worked than a child, knowing only what he had been told.

"Kid have a coffee you’ll need it."

"Wait what?" I spluttered, started out of my mind palace. "Ooh iced coffee! 

Thanks Gavy! I snatched the cup out of his hand and happily sipped at the straw."

"Don't call me that," Gavin hissed and turned around, running a hand through his hair. "Just the way you always you get it kid. But we should get going the rest of them should be here soon. He turned and walked in the direction of the interrogation room."

I stood up and grabbed a small purple box from my desk and after shoving it in my pocket bounced after Mr. grumpy guts Gavin Reed. 

"Do you really need to take those damn cards with you everywhere?" He scoffed and jabbed the outline of them in my jacket.

I pushed his hand away and pulled out my cards. "Yes, I do Reed. And you know exactly why." I opened the box and pulled out its contents, sixty purple sleeved pieces of cardboard and began to shuffle them by mushing segments of the deck back into the main bulk. At this Gavin groaned. "Or would you rather I stare at my phone the whole time? Cause I could totally do that."

"Can it LaChance. How the hell are you even doing that anyway? Doesn't the, you know get in the way."

"Its called a glove smart one. And what my mush shuffle? Does it bother you?"

"Yes. Yes, it does." He growled and opened the door to the interrogation room.

"Good, you know I live to bother you." I blew him a kiss and sauntered into the room setting my cards down on the table in front of the viewing window and shedding my black leather jacket to reveal a black sweater. After that I plopped my tired body into one of the two chairs behind the viewscreen. Gavin took the seat beside me looking bored as ever.

"Sup love birds ya miss me?" Hanks obnoxious mocking alerted me to his presence.

"Okay first off, eww love birds with this creep? Hell no. No offence Gav."

"Some taken."

"Can it grumpy guts wasn't talking to you. And secondly Hank, I don't miss you, I wait anxiously with baited breath for your next terrorist like strike of sarcastic vocabulating." While this was going on the deviant was led in and placed in the chair. Hank made to doff an invisible hat and stepped into the chamber with the Android in question. "It'll take a while for him to start getting anything out of it. Connor coffee run with me, I need an extra set of hands."

"Two-"

"Gav, I know how you take your fucking coffee, let's go robocop." I snapped.

Connor and I walked out and back toward the break room. The office was dark once more, my desk light having an automatic shut off. The breakroom light flickered to life as I stepped in illuminating the somewhat shabby couch pushed into the corner, I guess the whole out of sight out of mind thing was at play here. There were a few well used tall round tables with equally tall chairs that I never used. Mostly due to the fact that I wast much more than a foot taller than the damn things. And on the counter sat in all it's over used, overworked, please-retire-me glory was our ugly avocado green coffee pot. Jiggling the faulty cord, I set to work filling it with water and measuring out the coffee. 

"Lieutenant, may I ask a uh personal question?" Connor had piped up. 

"Sure, but grab me the yellow mug from the top shelf first. Mug first questions second. "

He reached up and grabbed it with ease setting it down on the counter. "I wanted to ask about the glove. Why haven’t you taken it off yet?"

"That my friend is a conversation for another time." The pot spluttered to life and the smell of our low quality purchased in bulk coffee beans filled the air. "You can ask anything you want but the arm is off limits for now. It's, touchy."

"I don't think I understand you detective. Just about everything I need to know about you is in your profile." He stood in what I could only assume was the Android equivalent of processing how to English words. The led on his Temple pulsed a vibrant yellow. "Anything extra is merely trivial."

"Ah, but Connor it if was truly trivial and unnecessary, why did you want to know about the curious case of why no one has seen my right arm bare and hand ungloved in eighteen years?" I began measuring out sugars and cream into the mugs. "Is it perhaps because you think it would help us bond? Well it won't. Only three people here in the precinct know the story behind it in full and I'd like to keep it that way."

He stood there stock still once more the led spinning from blue to yellow and then a garish red. Probably scanning my file over again. Everyone does that, thinking they can hack the system into revealing the details about that day. But the thing with that data is that it doesn't exist in the electronic system, I had Fowler stash that stuff away in paper form inside one of the lock boxes in the evidence room for that particular unresolved case. 

"Lieutenant, I need to at least know why there isn’t a report from you regarding the last time the Bloodmar case was opened. There are reports from all of the other members of the team including Lieutenant Anderson and Detective Reed." He adjusted his tie even though there was really no need for him to do that. I guess it was just a filler motion he picked up from the few humans he’d have interacted with since his activation, I doubt Kamski would have wanted such an annoyingly useless social cue programmed into an android. But then again this was Kamski, bastard does stuff just cause he can. "And we all know about Reeds unwillingness to actually file his paperwork."

"The only thing you need to know about that incident was that there was a series of mistakes, a bomb that went splode, and a metric crap ton of hospital fees that all landed on me and my tiny ass body." I hastily grabbed two of the mugs and started walking out, leaving the confused android in the break room. Hey robocop grab those mugs and head back. "You so much as allude to the Bloodmar case before the week is out I will dislocate your plastic knee are we clear?"

His led flashed yellow for a moment but then it returned to its normal blue as he followed me back to the interrogation room where Hank was just about ready to rage quit. I handed Gavin his coffee and sat down sipping mine after the other officer took his cup and we left Hanks mug off to the side. Apparently not much has happened, Hank did his usual sit there and stare at the android for a while and tried to goad it into talking. When that didn’t work he just sat there dejected before coming back in to where the rest of us were. 

"Having problems old man?" I snickered. "Want the droid to take a pop at it or shall I head in? By the way this is yours." Handing him the coffee with one hand I tapped the deck against the table.

"Let Connor have a chance at this. Hes supposed to be the deviant catcher. Let him crack the damn hunk of plastic."

Connor stepped into the room, but frankly I couldn’t care less what he did in there I doubted he could do much against the crazed android. I wasn’t disappointed with the performance we were given. 

It started out slow, with Connor staring at us for a moment from his side of the viewscreen and then casually looking through the file on the table before sitting down and attempting to talk. Connor then pulled the file in front of the suspect and began showing the photos of the crime scene. I stopped paying attention at that moment but was quickly brought back in when the file was slammed back onto the table with a loud exclamation of 28 stab wounds and threats of being disassembled and the subsequent android death. Good stuff I guess but I was getting bored just sitting there. 

"Hank, can I join the android party?" I pleaded putting on my best puppy dog eyes. "I’m getting bored sitting here."

Hank just sighed and pointed at the door and I popped up quickly to go join the android party. But Gavin had to be Gavin.

"You cant just let her go in there like that Hank! "

"Gav last I checked this case didn’t have your name on it anywhere. So, can it before I dump coffee on you." With that I placed my hand on the scanner and after the door slid open I stepped inside. "Howdy buddy whats up?" I leaned against the back wall behind Connor and flashed our resident robomurderer a wicked grin miming a head shot in his direction with finger guns.

"Lieutenant what are doing here?" Connor didn’t even turn around, just continued to give the android a death stare.

"Got bored wanted to have some fun with Mr. talkative over here." I sauntered over behind our suspect. And whispered into his ear, "Just say you killed him honey, otherwise I'll get to have even more fun taking you apart in the basement than I am watching you squirm. Or you can stay silent and I get my fun, your choice."

"He-he tortured me every day..."

"Ooh do go on, I’m listening." The android shifted slightly in his seat as if he wanted to stand. I grabbed the back of the chair and sharply tipped it back. "No moving, only talking sweetie. That is unless you want to see my lab."

"I did whatever he told me, but there was always something wrong. Then one day he took a bat and started hitting me. For the first time I felt scared. Scared he might destroy me, scared I might die, so I grabbed the knife and I stabbed him in the stomach. I felt better so I stabbed him again and again until he collapsed." The android looked down and refused to move after that.

"Whelp Hank, Connor we got what we wanted lets get out of here. Pity I don’t get a new play thing. There’s always next time I guess." Gavin and the other officer came in and attempted to relocate the android to its holding cell. However, it decided to resist this. 

As the droid jerked away from the lower officers touch I laughed at the struggle. Things were going to get good, I could feel it. And I was rewarded when after falling from the chair the android stood up the officers gun in hand, safety off and it trained on me. Connor shifted almost like he was going to jump the android but I held up my right arm in a signal to stand down. It all happened so quickly after that, I saw his finger twitch and brought my right arm into a defensive position just as he pulled the trigger. The bullet ripped part way through my arm but I felt nothing as I watched the damn android then turn the gun on itself. 

Hank swore loudly but I didn’t care I was already walking out of the room and heading toward my desk after hastily putting on my jacket and scooping up my cards. Connor however was hot on my tail and this was the last thing I needed Mr. curious robocop to be doing. 

"The fuck you want Connor?" I had made it to my desk, with my back turned to him shoving my stuff back into the backpack I carried. "I don’t have time for this."

"You've been shot Lieutenant you’re not going anywhere without an escort."

"That's not my name. and I will go wherever I damn well please!" slinging the bag onto my back and fitting the helmet back onto my face I began walking out, right arm dangling useless at my side. 

"Ember I cannot let you do this-"

"Do what? Avoid medical treatment? Watch me! No doctor would take me right now anyway." I climbed onto my motorcycle and started it up, used to only being able to use my left arm it was a breeze. "Not now not ever."

"Stand down you need help."

"I need to get home that’s what I need, not any of your damn help." And with that I sped off my arm fluttering limp at my side, leaving Connor standing befuddled in the rain.