#this is totally not a suspicious amount of cash or anything

[envysparkler]

“Do you really know Wonder Woman?” Jason asked, peering at the trophies that were spread throughout the Cave.  There were rows and rows of costumes, Batman and Robin both, and Jason was reminded all over again that Bruce had been doing this for years.  Jason didn’t remember a time before Batman, he’d seemed as ubiquitous as the smog that choked the streets right up until he’d slammed a tire iron into the mass of shadows and learned about the human underneath.  “I mean, personally?  Outside of crime fighting?”

He might’ve believed Batman knew Wonder Woman, but Bruce Wayne had always seemed like a bit of an idiot, and watching him attempt to blearily cut pancakes with a fork and spoon this morning had only confirmed it.

“Yes, Jason,” Bruce sounded amused from all the way over by the Batcomputer.  “I know Diana.  This is the fifth time you’ve asked me that question, by the way.”

Jason rolled his eyes.  So maybe it was, but he wasn’t convinced!  “I don’t know, B,” Jason said, wrinkling his nose up at a brilliantly colored peacock of a costume with a high, flared collar and a deep neckline.  “I’m still waiting on some proof.”

“Mh-hmm,” Bruce said.  “Is that what you came down here for?  To pester me into letting you meet Wonder Woman?”

“No!” Jason whirled on him in a tone of deep outrage.  That was a secondary goal, he just didn’t want to miss an opportunity.  “Alfred said you wanted to see me.”

Bruce blinked, before his face light up with comprehension.  “Oh, yes, I nearly forgot!  I have something for you.”  Jason trotted over to the Batcomputer to watch Bruce rummage through a stack of files.  He darted a quick glance at the computer, but whatever Bruce had been working on was closed.

The man hadn’t forbade him from entering the Cave after Jason had Figured Out the Secret—read: caught Bruce dressing the massive bruise across his stomach, which on its own wasn’t suspicious, but with Bruce’s wide-eyed look of guilt and surprise, assembled the pieces together—but Jason didn’t want to test the limits.  So far, he only wandered where Bruce let him, even though he was itching to get his hands on those bat-shaped throwing stars.

“Here,” Bruce emerged with an envelope, which Jason took with a healthy degree of wariness.  It was Gotham, where ordinary packages meant fear toxin or laughing gas or a hundred other deadly gags.  “Go on, open it!”

Jason considered it for another long moment, but decided that Bruce hadn’t rigged it to explode.  He opened the envelope and peeked inside.

“This is money,” Jason stated, staring at the cash.  The bills all looked like twenties, and there was at least twenty of them in there.  Probably closer to five hundred dollars.  He looked up at Bruce, who was smiling tentatively at him, and carefully didn’t touch any of the bills.  “Uh, what’s this for?”

“It’s an allowance.”

“An allowance?” Jason stared, puzzled at the envelope.  He’d heard of allowances—Sandra from next-door-before-he-lived-on-the-streets had gotten ten bucks each week for watching her baby siblings and Ty from the-first-foster-home had gotten some spending cash if he did his chores, but Mom never had the money to spare to pay Jason to help around the house.

Not a problem for a guy as rich as Bruce, but Jason hadn’t done any chores here.  Much less five hundred dollars’ worth of chores.

“Is it enough?” Bruce asked, looking concerned.  Enough?  Enough for what?

Before Jason could open his mouth to respond, the Batcomputer emitted a shrill alert and Bruce’s countenance changed completely, going from an open, soft smile, to something harder and focused.

“I’m sorry, Jason, I have to get this,” Bruce said, not looking away from the screen.  “Why don’t you head up for bed?  And let me know if you need more.”

Jason knew better than to interrupt him and he headed up the stairs as Bruce began speaking in a low voice to someone who sounded like Commissioner Gordon.  He didn’t realize he’d taken the envelope with him until he reached his room.

He set it down on his dresser.  Bruce hadn’t told him what he had to do to earn his allowance, and Jason didn’t want to touch it until he confirmed it wasn’t like, shoveling shit or something.  He’d ask him tomorrow.

But part of him was still warmed by the gesture.  Bruce was treating him like he was his real kid, not like a foster kid only around for a stipend or to look charitable in the eyes of other people.  Jason flopped down on his bed and considered, not for the first time, how lucky he was.

He had a huge mansion to live in, and he got to go to a fancy school starting Monday, and he apparently got five hundred dollars just for doing his chores.

[nicksheri]

flash fiction: $42

florus russell counts the money she took from her father’s wallet, just $36 nothing even close to what she needs, she thought it’d be there with all the money she’s seen that bastard walking around with over the past week or so, like he’d won the lottery, passing it out to her brothers, here buy yourself some smokes, buy yourself a nice night with a prostitute, and don’t forget to buy yourself the condoms, buy yourself some pot or whatever asshole—but here she needs to pay off a gambling debt, she told him about it, a little obliquely, she owed about $500 she borrowed from a friend, and would he mind spotting her for a few weeks?—

not that her friend she owed, olson, would break her legs

or anything, nothing mafioso-like, they did sleep together a few times, and she did promise him at one time that they were an item, girlfriend and boyfriend, and she even put her arm around his shoulder a few times and kissed his cheek, all in public, and he asked if she loved him, and she said yes, meaning kind of, but no not at all—and this was all after he lent her the money to make that no-doubt basketball bet on the san antonio spurs, to beat the spread of just 5 points over the denver nuggets, and it was all good with 2 minutes left, up by 6, denver hardly even trying to win, with only 3 games left before season end, playoff hopes long gone, give some bettors a break, they needed it more than those basketball millionaires—but no denver decides that they’re going to show up the rookie bench players that the spurs would put out there for a meaningless games like this, and denver’s players start stealing balls, running to the hoop, a ball dribble behind the back, and then slam-a-dam hanging dunk, the tiny crowd of 800 or whatever in the denver arena all get it with their phones, and cheer, and then all egged on denver does it again, why not nothing to lose except for the bettors needing denver to lose by at least 5 points—but those 2 slam-a-dams totalling 4 points was enough to bring it within 2 points and florus loses the bet and her $500—

olson would come around on the money he’s owed,

he’d almost certain bring it up at their next bed session, after they’d finish, while putting his shirt on, bare naked down below, and he’d look up at the ceiling quizzically, like as if to say there’s something that i’ve been meaning to ask you and i can’t totally remember what, and oh, yeah, right, you owe me $500 bitch, so when are you going to pay that up?—before she was so confident that she’d be sitting on $2,000 or so with her betting win and she’d happily slap it right back in his hand and what not, and not in neat $100s but like this bundle of odd cash, some $5s and and a lot of $10s and a good amount of $20s, random $1s and a suspicious couple of $2s, just to make him count it, to watch him count it on his bare-assed lap next, and see just how much he’d complain, but honestly buddy if we’re and item and you loved me and you wanted to be with me and you want your money at the same time then there, this is how it looks, bundled random cash with love—

it’s what happens, like that, when you start small,

$36 here, another $5 found in some pants in the laundry room, $7 from backpack of cheryl at work who goes to the bathroom too much and she deserves to get stolen from, and right a handful of quarters from the piggy bank, as her cousin where that piggy bank is—but just out of good faith, instead of waiting for the awkward moment when he would remember about the money, florus would spare him the embarrassment—she calls him says they can meet at the park to walk some, pick up some licorice, and take the only dirt path in the park, might be a bit muddy should wear some hiking boots, yes right—and then she says ah yes, i remember that money you lent me for that bet, that i told you went bad right, and you know they lost, no such thing as a sure thing—and olson says, no such thing as a good idea to bet on a meaningless game you could have waited for the playoffs—florus says, playoffs are unpredictable, but apathy by a team just waiting for the season to end is more a sure thing—olson rolls his eyes and slows down his step—florus pulls the money out of her jacket pocket, $42, and she says, this should get us started, a little bit or a little more every week, and we’ll be fine my love—

[not-me-simping-for-blasty]

I Melt With You - Bakugou Katsuki

All Parts:

Part 10:

“Hey, Bakugou.” You greet easily, waving at him. “Can you believe it?”

“Jesus- what the hell are you on about now?”

“Nothing. Just, this marks the third time I’ve seen you without injury. Good on you buddy, setting a personal record and everything.”

He huffs, pushing off the wall. Bakugou is without his costume, clad in just normal sweats. The sight makes you feel a little bad- it was obviously his day off, but there he was working. Sacrificing his time for you.

“Fuck you.” He grumbles, without any bite. “Seriously. Fuck you.”

“C’mon, grumpy, don’t get so huffy.” You say playfully. “I was mostly joking, but I did mean it. I think I like you a whole lot better when there’s no blood involved.”

He starts to smile, just for a second, before he quickly evens his expression. It’s like he’s trying to hide the fact that it was there at all, quickly spinning around and starting off at a brisk pace. 

“Woah, slow down, no need to run, speedy. I’ll take it back if you’re so allergic to me being nice.”

Bakugou doesn’t respond, but he does slow down. Just minutely. Hardly even at all if you really think about it, but hey, at least you’re not basically running after him anymore.

“What’s got you so cheery, hah?” He asks after a beat, making an intentional point not to make eye contact. “It’s late- you’re not tired again?”

His tone catches you off-guard, something accusatory underneath that has you scrunching your nose. You’re not exactly sure what he’s getting at, but you can read his prickly tone for what it is- Bakugou is making fun of you. 

“No. I’m actually not tired, thank you very much.”

“That’s not what you were saying last night.”

“You know, that sentence from anyone else would offend me- but from you?” You scoff, squinting your eyes at him. “Well, I’m sure it was meant as an insult, not an insinutation; so I’ll refrain from calling you a pig. For now.”

“Call me anything and see where it gets ya, leech.”

“What’re you gonna do? Fight me?”

“Please, it wouldn’t be a fight.” He snorts, kicking at a rock in the road. It flies down the alley, all the way past the streetlamp’s glow. “See? I’d slaughter you.” 

“Yes! Probably!" You say in faux exasperation. "But it’s because you have way more practice at slaughtering people! I don’t know why you’re bragging about that- that’s totally not something normal people brag about!”

You throw your hands up, gesturing wildly, and Bakugou just sort of watches you. Doesn’t really react other than to evade one of your errant hands. You just barely miss him, the tips of your fingers clipping the fabric of his sweatshirt.

“What- nothing? You’ve got nothing to say about that? Course you don’t- because you’re proud of slaughtering people. Is that it? Huh?”

“I’m proud of winning.”

“That’s not what I said.”

“Close enough.” He shrugs. “'Sides, it’s not my fault I wasn’t listenin’. Ya said so many damn words to me.”

“That’s so rude! You-“

Seeing his smile, you cut yourself off half-way. It should hardly even count as a smile, really, it’s much more of a smirk- something entirely self-indulgent and dripping with arrogance. You’re not sure if you wanna punch him in the mouth or giggle.

“You jerk. You’re messing with me!” On impulse, you knock your shoulders into his. Bakugou doesn’t flinch- nor does he budge whatsoever. “You’re just being mean on purpose, aren’t you?”

“Course.”

“Why? Just, I don’t know, be nice?”

“Fuck that. No thanks.”

“You incredibly rude- you know that?”

“And you’re fuckin’ annoying.” He retorts, knocking his shoulders into yours. Bakugou smirks when you stumble. “See- I’d murder you in a fight.”

“No one was debating that!”

He just bites his lip, throwing his head back. It’s like Bakugou is trying to hide his smile; exposing the strong column of his throat to you, pale skin gone 10 shades of gold under the streetlamp.

It steals the breath from your lungs- how devastatingly beautiful he can be. You have to tear your eyes away.

“Hey, Bakugou, it’s your day off right?”

He eyes you a little strangely. “Yes? Why?”

“Geez- Don’t be so suspicious.” You laugh. “I only asked because I was curious.”

“The hell you have to be curious about?”

“Just what you’d be doing right now otherwise- you know, if you weren’t stuck walking me-“

“‘m not stuck. Wouldn’t do this if I didn’t need to.”

“Yeah, but still.” You take a breath. “What I mean, is that, I’m sorry if this is burdening you. I know this probably isn’t what you wanted to do on your day off.”

He eyes you, sniffing for a moment while he juts his chin out. “Eh- it’s fine. Walking this far outta my way is good excercise anywa-“

“This far? Oh my god- are you serious? Where do you live?”

“Far enough.”

“Bakugou.” You say sternly, staring him down. You’re well aware he’s not a man who’s easily scolded into revealing the truth, but damn if you weren’t going die trying. “Seriously- how far?”

“Fuck’s it matter to you for?”

“Because it just does! Now, c’mon really, I’m gonna feel like, super bad if you say you’ve gotta take a train her-“

“No train, so quit bitching.” He scans the street for a moment, before turning back to look at you. “Not that far. Half an hour, maybe, if I was running.”

“If you were running? What about walkin-“

“Not walking so it doesn’t matter.”

“It does!”

“It fuckin’ doesn’t-“

Then he’s standing ram-rod straight, slapping an open palm over your stomach and pushing you back. You’re flying back into the shadows, back slamming against the brick wall. Gasping, air knocked clean out of your lungs, it’s all you can do to keep your eyes open and watch him leave.

Bakugou hardly even looks back before he’s soaring past the end of the alley, explosions igniting under his palms. There’s no one, all is quiet, silent and tense and then- bam.

A mottled mass of muscles and pulsating flesh barrels through the building beside Bakugou. Debris rains down onto the street, down onto the exact spot you were standing moments ago. The flying detrius knocks Bakugou off course, and the blonde hardly dodges before the creature is slinging fists his way.

“Shouldn’t’a been makin’ such a scene!” Bakugou is all smirks and haughty confidence, seamlessly twisting and dodging the creature’s strikes. “Gave yourself away- I’ve got you now!”

Even breathless and winded, you can’t help but stare. Bakugou truly is something else- a terrifying bullet in the air, bordering on frenetic as he dodges. He’s so fast you’re worried he’ll catch fire. There’s a reckless sort of smile on his face, stretching his lips back around canines you’re sure are sharper than before. He’s throws his left palm out, explosion recoil throwing him just past the creature’s next attack. It’s enough of an opening for Bakugou to surge in, flashbang fingertips making contact with the beast’s abdomen.

“Really, that’s all?” He challenges, grinning like mad when the beast flies back from the impact. “No strategy at all? That’s not gonna fuckin’ work!”

And then he looks back at you, just for a singular moment, while the beast is bent over from his previous blow. The sight nearly knocks the air out of your lungs all over again.

Bakugou is terrifying. Manic and bloodthirsty and feverish almost, chest heaving with every labored breath. There’s something wild in his eyes, coloring his features in blood that hasn’t even been spilled yet. It’s intimidating and scary and overwhelming, but he’s dazzling too. A crazed smile, so blinding and brilliant, that it leaves an after-image long after he’s blasted away again.

Something snaps in you then, and you’re diving behind the nearest dumpster. It’s a little gross and cramped, but you hear plaster cracking around you, and suddenly it’s not so bad anymore. Your eyes are wide, watching the battle- and even when hidden it still feels too close.

Your heart is trapped in your throat, a battering ram even as you try to catch your breath. Everything is loud, and chaotic, and you’ve never been this close to a real battle before. It scares you. You clasp your hands around your ears, trying to block out the gargling and explosions. It’s not enough, your breath still picking up as explosion impact rattles the asphalt beneath your feet.

“You’re done!” You hear him shout, and suddenly the air goes white and hot, and bright.

You screw your eyes shut, and bite back a scream as an explosion rattles every surrounding window. The sound swallows everything, and the light show is even worse. Even through your eyelids it’s blazing. Bright enough to have you diving to the ground and tucking your head between your knees.

Then it’s quiet. Complete silence other than the ringing in your ears. You hear impact, a warbled groan, and then the sound of his voice.

“You fucker.” He roars. “I’m fuckin’ busy, you weak bitch, can’t ya fuckin’ see that?”

Another thud. Another groan.

“All this shit for some cash? Just get a job, you fuckin’ loser. Like the goddamn rest of us.”

You peak your head over the dumpster, and see Bakugou standing tall over the collapsed body. You’re not entirely sure how the villian’s quirk operates, but the mass of flesh is deflating by the second, leaving behind a skinny mess of bones and sinew.

“A front, hah? Pathetic.” Bakugou sneers, grinding his teeth before he snaps. “On your fuckin’ feet weakling- ‘m taking you in.”

Bakugou hauls the skinny man to his feet, trapping rail-thin arms tight to the man’s back. It’s only then that you choose to emerge, staggering slighty on your shaking legs. It’s like you’ve got tremors- your body practically bowled over by the sheer amount of adrenaline coursing through your veins.

“H-help- I didn’t-“ The skinny man starts, before Bakugou is sending a knee into the base of his spine.

“Don’t speak to her, you shit-stain.” Bakugou curls his lip. “Shut the hell up.”

You’re not really sure what to do then- caught between wanting to high-tail it in the complete opposite direction, and surging towards Bakugou. Because, if you weren’t certain before, you definitely were now; Bakugou knew what he was doing. And if worst ever came to worst, he’d stay true to all his threats. Nobody was getting to you while he was around.

“Follow. C’mon.” Bakugou nods towards the end of the street. “Police station. You know where it is. Let’s get the hell to it already.”

You just start walking- almost on autopilot. There’s a weird fuzz settling in your brain, the adrenaline seeping and leaving nothing but exhaustion behind. It’s disorienting because you weren’t even part of the fight- Bakugou had shoved you back long before you could have ever been in any real danger.

You’re not sure how he knew- how he could have possibly predicted the villain coming through the wall, but even still, you’re gratetful. Because you’re not hurt, only frazzled where you would’ve been massacred without him there.

Bakugou waits for you to pass him by, and only once you’re a good few steps ahead, does he start shoving his prisoner forward. The walk is tense and silent, the only noise being the occasional pained groan from the skinny man. There’s an undeniable air of intimidation coming from Bakugou, rolling off his skin and permeating every spare inch of air. It only adds more stress to an already harrowing situation.

The police station lies just where you remembered it, but you’ve never been this close before. You’d only seen it down the end of the street as you passed by- only through the fuzzy haze of exhaustion after your shift ended. Now there’s nothing hazy about it- just a stark white building and big glass doors. Big glass doors that Bakugou is surging through, prisoner in tow, and ordering you to stay behind.

When he’s through the door, it’s like your heart finally starts to catch up. You can feel it’s thud slow against you ribs, no longer jumping at every slight sound. You eyelids feel heavy, further weighed down by the headache you feel coming on. You lean against the wall of the station, bending slightly at the waist as you ground the heels of your palm against your temple.

“All good?” You hear his voice some time later, Bakugou’s footsteps heavy as he approaches. “You get hurt?”

“No- ‘m fine.” You chew your cheek, straightening as you look up at him. “I think.”

He studies you for a moment, red eyes flitting across your face. Bakugou grimaces. “You’re shaking.”

“Yeah. Was scared.”

“It’s fine now.” He huffs, frustration lacing his features. Bakugou clenches his hand, releases, and repeats twice over before he speaks again. “Got ‘em already, so you can chill the hell out now. Alright?”

“Yeah- yeah sure.”

You try to agree, but your voice doesn’t sound right when it leaves your throat. It’s a little too hoarse, empty of almost all inflection. You’re not particularly pleased with it and Bakugou is even less so.

“You need a few minutes or something?” He pinches the bridge of his nose, like even asking the question pains him. “Need to call somebody?”

Bakugou looks incredibly uncomfortable- eyes shifting around wildly and refusing to settle. All of his battlefield-confidence, even that self-assured smirk seems to have disappeared entirely. He huffs a pained breath and leans back against the wall next to you. His shoulders are just barely touching yours, voice pinched and tense when he speaks.

“I know it’s loud- but it’s over now. Now you just go home, and you sleep. Nothing is gonna happen to you.” Stuffing his hands in his pockets, Bakugou tilts his head skyward. He grinds his teeth, once, twice, and smooths out his grimace. “And I’ll fuckin’ be there so don’t go spiraling about it, alright? You’re safe now.”

You nod, rolling your lips together for a moment. He’s not meeting your eyes, not even attempting to, but you can’t help but stare. Can’t help but track all the lines of his face; the way his nose slopes, and the set of his eyebrows. He doesn’t look like before. Not crazed, or manic, or brutal. He’s just Bakugou. Maybe a little grumpy, but mostly just uncomfortable- exactly the way you’ve come to know him.

Something in you settles at bit at that.

“Yeah. Yeah, okay. Let's go." You kick off the wall, putting one foot in front of the other. "I'm more than ready to be home."

Bakugou just watches you, and you can see him reach a hand out before immediately dropping it. His lip curls up in disgust- and that just confuses you. You wonder where the Bakugou from a few minutes ago went; the one who seemed so entirely sure of himself.

"Faster." He says, overtaking you in one long stride. "Stallin' around at night is never a good idea."

You suppose he's right, but you never would've believed him before.

Prior to tonight, you had never been a part of a villain attack. You hadn't even seen a villain on anything other than TV re-runs. Your neighborhood was quiet, the streets never holding any danger, even at night. Now, though, every shadow seems suspicious, every sound a precursor for something far worse. Your well aware you just got caught in the wrong place at the wrong time that night, but that didn't make the reality any easier to handle. If Bakugou hadn't been there, if he hadn't show up dead on your balcony months ago, then you would've been gravely injured by all that falling debris.

The thought makes you feel weak all over again. Has your fingers curling in your gloves- itchy and uncomfortable and helpless.

You're quiet as you walk, caught up in a million spiraling thoughts. Bakugou doesn't seem keen on conversation either, keeping a few paces ahead and scanning for other danger. Occasionally he'll turn back, check to make sure you're following, and all you can really offer is a nod and a shaky sort of smile. It doesn't satisfy him at all- you can see that every time he sets his jaw.

"Oi- Leech." He snaps in front of your eyes, waving his hand back and forth. "It's- stop lookin' like that already. All freaked the fuck out. You look ridiculous."

His haughty tone as your blood warming, fingers clenching at your sides as you walk. You're not sure what reaction he's after, but all you can really think to do is get angry.

"I am freaked out! You were there! You saw that guy! He was huge!" You snap, squinting your eyes and waving your hands around. "If you weren't- I- what am I supposed to do when that shit happens? Huh? I can't fight, and even if I could I wouldn't, so what am I supposed to-"

"Nothing." He interrupts. "You do nothing, and you hide. Like you did."

"Yes, because you pushed me! If you hadn't I would've been crushed by all that- and how on Earth did you even know he was coming?"

"Vibrations. In the ground." He squints at you, a little confused. "Did you not-"

"No!"

"Damn," He huffs a laugh, shaking his head. "You really couldn't feel that? Jesus, you really are clueless. No wonder you were so freaked out."

In that moment, you're a little sure you could strangle him. All his skill you'd seen earlier suddenly didn't matter at all, and you were sure you could take him down with nothing but rage alone.

He- vibrations? You didn't feel anything! You felt nothing and even if you had, you would've assumed it was an earthquake. No one except for him and his battle-addled brain would've ever assumed it was a villain of all things!

"Calm down," He seems to be fighting a smile, lip twitching up. "You look fuckin' ridiculous right now. 'm not scared of you, leech."

"You should be! I'm about to strangle you right now-"

"For what?"

"For- for- I don't know! You just make me so angry with your 'Oh, you didn't feel that?' bullshit!" You tilt your voice lower, coating it in gravel to mimic him. "Of course I didn't feel anything! I'm not like you- I don't have freaky super-human instincts and explosions and I can't just go fight somebody!"

True to his word, your outburst doesn't seem to scare him. If anything if seems to pull the smile from him more, lips pulling back into a grin even he has no chance of hiding.

"There she is." He stuffs his hands in his pockets, falling back a little to walk right beside you. "Thought you'd gone into shock or somethin'."

"So you- on purpose?"

"Said that shit about vibrations? Yeah." His smile turns wolfish, all sharp canines and pink gums. "There were no fuckin' vibrations, idiot. I heard the plaster cracking."

In that moment you're the surest you've ever been- you were going to murder Bakugou Katsuki.

"You dick!"

Your hands are out before you can stop them, shoving forcefully at his side. He just looks at you, rolling his eyes, and then decides to let you tip him sideways off the curb. It's the worst kind of victory- a pity one that he let you have.

"Chill out, already." He laughs. "Only said shit so you'd stop bein' all miserable. You should be fuckin' thankin' me."

"I'm not thanking you!"

He steps forward, one long stride eclipsing you entirely. Then he spins, facing you with another crooked grin, and you're digging your heels into the cement to avoid crashing directly into his chest.

"I said-" He starts, hands in his pockets and leaning forward until he's practically towering over you. "You should be thanking me."

His voice is low, sly and challenging as he grins. He looks positively predatory- but attractive too. The worst kind that leaves your heart stuttering in your chest for almost no discernable reason.

"G-get away from me." You fluster, taking a step back. "I'm not thanking you."

He shrugs, falling back to a safe distance. You don't miss it though- the way his grin goes just a little wider, entirely satisfied. He won, and he knows it.

"Suit yourself, then leech." He says, voice light. "If ya wanna mouth off so much, then 'm not fuckin' saving you next time."

He says the words, but you're almost entirely sure he doesn't mean them. Not with the way he is now- beaming and pleased under the moonlight. You wonder if he always gets like this; so happy just after a victory. It's the kind of sight that almost makes the entire ordeal worth it. Almost.

You walk through the doors of your apartment, shuddering a long sigh of relief. The walls feel safe, security and peace etched into familiar walls. Even with Bakugou stomping behind you, the serenity isn't disturbed all that much. He's still in his rare good mood apparently, and he doesn't even grumble whatsoever.

Truth be told, you're still a little shaken, but the interior of your apartment puts you at ease. Even if you don't feel nearly as infallible as before, home is a good feeling- it always is.

"You know- you know that you just got unlucky, right?" Bakugou seems to struggle for a moment, kicking the door shut behind him. "It's- that's- shit like that doesn't usually happen here."

You're not sure where his sentiment is headed, and he must see it on your face. He flares his nostrils, sighing something long-suffering and dramatic.

"I'm sayin'- that wasn't part of anything else. It was just the one idiot, so it's not any more dangerous here than it used to be. 'm sayin' don't waste your time worryin' about that shit."

Something in you warms a bit- just a fraction. You're not sure how he knew, how he always seems to know just what you're thinking, but at this moment you don't care to find out. There are some comforts better left experienced instead of studied- and you figure this might be one of them.

You smile, something soft and fond. "I take it back- I will thank you. So thank you. I'm sure I'd be a lot worse off if you weren't around."

You watch him fluster, watch him itch in his skin and shift his weight around. Eventually he settles on turning his back, moving towards your fridge as he speaks.

"Probably. You froze up completely- woulda been piss poor job performance to let you get killed." He's swinging the fridge door open, and the white light just makes it more apparent- his cheeks are pink. "Got ice packs in here somewhere?"

"I-Ice packs?"

"Yeah. Knuckles are gonna bruise up if I don't ice 'em."

You look a little closer then, at his fingers curled around the handle of your fridge. His knuckles are a little swollen, bruised up and red where the skin had split. It doesn't look too bad, much less serious than any other injury he'd come to you with, but that doesn't change the itching in your own fingers. You want to help him- now more than ever it seems.

"Shit- sorry." You breathe out, nearing a little to get a closer look. "I was so freaked I didn't even think about asking- are you okay? You're okay, right? Nothing else, no bones or blood or-"

"Calm down. 'm fine."

You look at him again, squinting for eyes for a moment. He just rolls his own, extending his arms out and flipping them. He was telling the truth- there's only one other scratch on him, and even that was already scabbed over. The only issue were his knuckles- and that sets you at ease.

"You want me to wrap them for you?" You ask, looking up at him. "Oh wait- actually, you'd probably want to do that yourself, huh? Since you're not on the brink of death this time and actual-"

"You do it."

"Huh?"

"I said- you do it." He won't meet your eyes, turning back to your fridge and opening it up once more. He makes himself right at home, grabbing one of the water bottles off the shelf without asking. "Did it all the other times, so you do it. Don't think you're gonna get away with cuttin' corners on me."

"I didn't mean it like that. I just meant, that I know you find it annoying when I'm all fussy so I just-"

"Shut up already. You continuing to run your mouth is the only thing that's annoying me right now."

You're about to retort, something offended and assuredly juvenile, but you decide against it. That night had been filled with far too much conflict for your liking, and you weren't about to incite more of it. If he wanted you to wrap his knuckles, then you'd wrap his knuckles. You figured it's the least you could do for him.

Turning your back on him, you start for the bathroom, and the first aid kit inside. A part of you considers just permanently moving the kit into the kitchen, but that sort of seems like you're just inviting more misfortune. You keep hoping that one day you'll stop having to patch Bakugou up at all, but from the looks of it, that isn't likely. Not even a little bit considering his obvious bloodlust.

"You wanna-" You start, walking back into the kitchen. You're shocked into stillness by the sight of him searching through your cupboards. "Um, what exactly are you doing?"

"Hungry."

"Okay, caveman, I just- you're not seriously trying to cook right now are you?" You near him, hands hovering in the air. You're sure he wouldn't appreciate it, but a large part of you just wants to grab at his shoulders and shove him away from everything. "Stop that- lemme get you fixed up first. Then I can call for something. I'm not gonna let you exert yourself any more than you already have."

Bakugou seems a little perturbed by that, whipping his head around until you can see wild red eyes. You almost sigh; what you wouldn't give for him to just chill out for once.

"I'm not saying you can't cook. You probably could, I don't know." You near a little more, dropping the first aid kit onto the countertop. "I'm saying, you've already done enough today, and you deserve to take it easy. So let me help you by wrapping your hands up. That's all."

Bakugou's in the midst of another internal struggle, before he visibly forgoes it. His shoulder's drop and the tension leaks until he's settling into one of your dining chairs. He sets his hands out on the table, clearing his throat at you until you kick into motion.

At this point, cleaning up his hands is practically a daily chore. You've gone through the motions more than enough times to be adjusted, but even still, his hands still freak you out a little. You'd never seen anyone who radiated so much heat- even just being next to him was like sitting in front of an open flame.

Your fingers are gentle, skidding over his hands with feather-light touches. He seems to slump in his chair, eventually just laying his head on the outstretched arm you weren't actively working on. He watches you closely the entire time though, red eyes burning holes into the side of your head.

"Do it again." He says. "Too loose. Do it again."

You're half-way through wrapping his right hand, only a small amount of bandage left. Not only would you have to do the bandage over entirely, but you'd have to unwrap it completely first.

"You always say that," You mutter, exasperation coloring your voice. "What makes it so much better the second time around, huh? I do it the exact same."

"It's just better. Takes longer."

You're not really sure what he means by that, and Bakugou doesn't look all that thrilled that he said the words at all. He jumps in his chair, cheeks gone pink as he digs his face into the skin of his arm. He's hiding.

It strikes you as even but odd, but you shrug off the strangeness all the same. You're getting far too used to his particular brand of bizarre.

"All better now?" You goad, patting the bandage after you've finished re-wrapping. "Everything feel nice and perfect for Prince Bakugou?"

He lifts his head. "You're not funny."

"You always say that too. But it's okay, I know one day you'll finally come around and appreciate me."

He just laughs under his breath, but he smiles too. Grins something tiny and small that he hides in his shoulder.

You start finishing up his other hand, and Bakugou doesn't say anything otherwise. He just sits, resting his head on his arm, and watching you intently. He's all calm and even breathing, chest rising and falling in perfect rhythm. You'd thought him adrenaline-crazed earlier, but it seemed he was coming off of that high rapidly. You could feel the exhaustion too- almost lulled by your movements just as much as he was.

You start gathering away all of your materials, and he doesn't even move. Just sits in perfect stillness at your table.

"I- I didn't accidentally touch you right? That's not why you're like that?" You ask, smothering a yawn. "Super exhausted, I mean."

He shakes his head. "Nah. Normal tired. Didn't fuck up this time, leech."

You don't have it in you to respond, hardly even rolling your eyes at his remark. His jabs don't hold much bite anymore- you begin to wonder if he's actually getting nicer or if you're just growing a ridiculous tolerance.

You brush off the thought, pushing away from your table and rising from the chair. "You still hungry?"

"Yeah. Wanna sleep first though so don't worry about it."

"Okay; well, I'm definitely going to so-"

"I said don't." He supplies evenly, finally sitting up in his seat. "It's fine. 'm not fuckin' starvin' or anything."

"You're sure?"

"Yes."

His insistence sells you, but you're not sure if it's because you actually believe him or because you just want to. Either way, you figure it doesn't matter much in the end, not to the way your limbs are quickly bowing to exhaustion. You feel the fatigue settling in, and you'd like to blame that for your next actions.

"C'mon then, sleep time, I guess." You say.

Then you cross the kitchen, passing behind him, dropping your hand on his shoulder. You hardly let it sit, just running your thumb over his shirt once, twice, and then continuing on your way.

He takes several seconds to finally follow you into the living room. Enough to have you looking back in confusion, unable to understand why he looked so very stunted where he still sat.

"Jesus, you're annoying." He finally grumbles, rubbing at his eyes.

His steps are loud as he crosses the room, stopping just a few inches in front of you. He grabs at your arm, raising your wrist himself and plucking the glove off in one fluid grab. It if wasn't so sudden an action- so ridiculous and fast and borderline violent, you might have even been flustered.

As it was though, he just grabbed your wrist before you could really register it.

Familiar warmth floods your veins. The same burning, slow heat that makes it;s way through each vein and artery. You think maybe your knuckles ache a little bit too, but it's too hard to tell through your quickly increasing sleep fog.

Bakugou lets you go pretty quick, falling back on your couch in almost the same moment.

"Better?" You ask, mirth warming your words. "Had to do it yourself because I was taking too long?"

"No, 'cause you pissed me off."

"Doing what?"

"You know what you're fuckin' doing."

Then he's grabbing the blanket, settling it over himself gracelessly while he flops over. He's face-first into the cushions now, effectively ending the conversation in much the way he typically does- by refusing to engage entirely.

You just roll your eyes a litItle fondly, still not even beginning to understand.

/-/

ooooo boy i am so sorry y'all for this late uPDATe,,, pls i usually update my fics way faster than this but sometimes life rlly just do be happenin lmaoooooo

n e wayz, ty for reading and supporting my work!! y'all are the absolute best i could ever ask for!!!

[hermannsthumb]

Hermann preparing for date night with Newt by selecting where to eat solely by what he has a coupon for. Or, ya know, frugal connoisseur Hermann. <3 ksci

inspired by a convo re: the fact that ksci @k-sci-janitor likes to make fun of me for never letting a coupon go to waste even if it means walking like 2 miles in the cold to use it :/ like im gonna NOT get a free Baja blast. (there is one small little allusion to some M rated stuff towards the end in this)

-------------------

It’s not a rare occurrence that Hermann will treat Newt to dinner when the mood of dining out strikes them, but the point is that he’s doing it in a way that’s supremely…shifty tonight. Well, maybe not shifty. Weird? For one thing, he didn’t tell Newt where they were going until they were already on the bus headed there, for another, it’s their sharing-a-lab-anniversary, which tradition dictates they evenly split a bill (even if the origins have more to do with both trying to show up the other and take advantage and order the most expensive shit on the menu). The weirdest thing is definitely that, when Hermann got up to pay the bill five minutes ago—a small, folded piece of paper clutched in his hand—he left his wallet laying next to his wine glass on the table.

Newt stirs his straw around in his cup of soda, clinking ice cubes against the sides, and squints at the wallet. Did Hermann bring cash to pay with? He could’ve stuck some in his pockets without Newt seeing, or his bank card, even, which would explain the forlorn wallet. Or maybe forgetting the wallet was totally an accident, and he’ll be back in a few seconds to pick it up and pay for real when he realizes. That’s probably it.

When Hermann comes back to their table, though, he doesn’t bother with his wallet—he takes his seat, picks up his wine glass, and tips it at Newt. “That was quite lovely, wasn’t it?”

Newt hums. “It was.”

“I quite liked the fish I got,” Hermann says.

“I loved my noodles,” Newt says. “We should try to copy the recipe back at the base.” He sets his straw delicately on the table. “How’d you pay without your wallet?”

“My wallet?” Hermann says. He makes a show of catching sight of the wallet, arches his eyebrows in mock surprise, and picks it up. Here we go. “Oh, goodness. Did I forget this? Well—it’s not as if I needed it…” He tucks it neatly into his inner jacket pocket.

“Hermann,” Newt says, rolling his eyes. “What’d you do, get a hundred-percent discount by reminding them we saved the world a few months ago?” Hermann shakes his head, and takes a long sip of his wine. “Did you write a check? Did you pretend we got food poisoning or something?” Hermann shakes his head again, and this time, his mouth begins to creep up into a smug smile. Newt remembers the piece of paper. “Dude. You got us a fucking Groupon. No wonder you were being so weird about what I was ordering!”

(“I think we ought to stick with the entrees labelled B, Newton,” Hermann had said, flipping a page forward in Newt’s menu. “They look—er—far better.”

“More expensive,” Newt had said.

“What’s it matter? I’m paying.” Hermann had pointed at the noodle dish Newt had ended up getting. “Look, I reckon you’d like that.”)

Hermann finally grins triumphantly. “I did—and saved us quite a decent from our ‘date night’ fund. Pity it didn’t extend to dessert, I suppose, but we could always find some ice cream at the commissary later.”

Newt can’t even pretend to be exasperated. The noodles rocked. And they would’ve rocked even more if he knew that Hermann was saving them a few bucks. “You’re such a weirdo,” Newt says, shaking his head, though he’s mirroring Hermann’s grin. “Is that why you picked this place?”

“Not entirely,” Hermann says. He takes a long, slow sip of his wine. “Mostly I picked it to make a point.”

“About?”

“About my being right.”

Newt sighs. Only Hermann would dredge up old arguments on Lab Anniversary Night. It wasn’t even an argument, really—all that happened was that Hermann asked Newt to hand him his glasses cleaning cloth from his parka, and it took Newt almost ten minutes because Hermann’s pockets were so jam-packed with a million little coupons for everything from granola bars (which they can get from the mess hall for free) to mouthwash (which Newt can snag from the commissary, also for free, whenever they need it) that he couldn’t find anything but. A majority of them were expired. Then Newt remarked on how Hermann was nuts, and Hermann remarked on how Newt didn’t understand the value of making smart financial decisions, and they went back and forth for a bit like that. This was a whole week ago, too. In terms of Newt and Hermann arguments, that’s more than ancient history. “Are we really talking about the fucking coupons now?” Newt says.

“Frugality pays off,” Hermann says, cryptically. “Now we really ought to head out. The forecast is calling for rain, and I don’t fancy getting caught in it.”

They get caught in the rain anyway. Newt invites himself over to Hermann’s bunk to dry off, because Hermann bought a space heater back when they were stationed in Russia, and it travelled with him here to aid through the long nights of overpowering A/C. Right now, it’s aiding Newt through stripping out of his wet clothes. When he’s down to just his boxers, he snags the quilt from Hermann’s bed, and waits for him to finish up in his little en suite bathroom to hopefully catch a hot shower. One of the unexpected side effects of the world not ending and most nonessential personnel leaving the ‘dome in doves is that they almost never run out of hot water anymore. Newt can take a shower at midnight and not freeze his ass off. It’s awesome, really.

Hermann emerges from the bathroom in a dorky little pair of pajamas, a dressing gown knotted at his waist. “Oh, Newton,” he sighs, and prods at Newt’s blanket cocoon with his cane, “not my grandmother’s quilt.”

“I’m dry!” Newt says. “Mostly!”

He gives up the quilt to Hermann and ducks into the bathroom to brush his teeth. He stuck a spare toothbrush in the medicine cabinet at some point, for when he was too sleepy and lazy after makeout sessions to go back to his bunk, and sure enough he finds it alongside a suspiciously generic-looking tube of toothpaste. It doesn’t even have a label. He doesn’t think much of it until he starts to use it, which is when he immediately gags and begins to rinse his mouth out with hot water. “What the hell is this toothpaste?” he chokes out. “It tastes—awful.”

“Ah,” Hermann says. He ducks his head into the bathroom, looking a bit sheepish. “Well. I found a coupon for that brand, and I know it’s not very, er, pleasant, but—I saved forty percent, Newton.” Newt continues to rinse his mouth out, this time adding some mouthwash into the mix. “Oh, really, now you’re just being dramatic. It’s only toothpaste.”

“Dude,” Newt says. “I feel like I just rubbed, like, acid cement all over my gums.”

“Ah,” Hermann repeats, guiltily.

A bit later, Newt goes in to kiss Hermann goodnight as they settle into Hermann’s bed together, but pulls back with a sad little pout when Hermann merely flinches away from him. “Oh, Newton, I’m sorry,” Hermann says, quickly wrapping his arms around Newt and kissing his neck. It softens the blow somewhat. “It’s that bloody toothpaste. You still smell like it. You’re right, it’s rubbish.”

“Tell you what,” Newt says, grumpily. “I’ll buy you a brand new tube tomorrow. My treat.”

Newt mostly forgets about the coupon thing for a bit. The odd little item crops up in the lab that makes him roll his eyes fondly at Hermann, but nothing as major as the Groupon or toothpaste. Hermann’s preferred tea brand swapped out for something Newt’s never heard of in a flavor that Hermann clearly detests, if his face when he drinks it is anything to go by, for example, the chocolate digestives Hermann keeps in his desk replaced with plain ones, his new box of chalk all in a salmony shade of pink and weak enough to snap apart under his fingers if he presses down too hard on his chalkboard. When Newt asks about the changes, the answer’s always the same: Hermann had a coupon for them, or they were less expensive than his usual. Newt just wishes he could understand where this sudden bought of thriftiness came from. It’s not like it was back during the war, where they had to pinch pennies and save in every area they could if they wanted to supplement their nonexistent funding. They’re actually getting paychecks now, on behalf of the UN’s guilty conscience! They have free room and board! They even put a few neat bucks away from some (heavily-redacted) interviews they did back in late January.

What Newt’s getting at is Hermann doesn’t have to limit them ordering out sushi to only places with free delivery on date nights, or skimp on his pizza toppings (four-topping down to two) so they can use a better coupon, or buy any of those subpar teabags or digestives or toothpaste tubes. But he just…is.

The tipping point occurs on a Saturday night about a month after the Groupon incident.

“Nn. Hermann. Do that again.”

“Do—?"

“Yeah.” Newt groans, turning his head to the side. “Oh, shit.”

“Newton—” Hermann kisses his throat. “Newton, you’re—”

“Wait.” Newt pauses. “What is that?”

“Oh, er.” Hermann pulls his hand away. “You mean the—the—?”

“Yeah. It feels…weird.” He frowns. “That is not what we used last time.”

“Oh. No. It isn’t.” Hermann clears his throat. “Well, Newton—see—we were out, so I thought I’d—I’d buy a larger bottle, to last us longer, and I happened to find a coupon for this lovely—er—gallon-sized—”

“You’re kidding,” Newt says.

“Only I thought it was a very frugal purchase,” Hermann says. “We do tend to, er, burn through it rather quickly.”

Newt rolls away from him. “Dude. We need to have a talk.”

Some brief amount of time later, they sit together on the end of Hermann’s bed, clad in their pajama bottoms and, in Hermann’s case, one of Newt’s sweatshirts. Newt waits until Hermann meets his eyes blushingly before he proceeds. “What is up with you lately?” he says. “You’ve been acting so—weird. Weirder than usual,” he amends. “Since when have you cared about saving a couple bucks on random shit like pizza?”

Hermann fidgets, and sighs, and finally reaches to pull open the drawer of his nightstand. He retrieves a piece of paper folded into quadrants, and for a wild moment Newt thinks it might be another Groupon. “Oh, I wanted it to be a surprise,” Hermann says. “I was going to wait until it was all finalized—but it’s close enough now, so I suppose there’s no harm in it.” He thrusts the paper out at Newt, and Newt—still wondering if it’s not another Groupon—unfolds it with surprise to find what looks like a flight itinerary. Two tickets for Hong Kong to Boston, with a short layover; then two more tickets a week after they land for a short trip from Boston to some town in Maine Newt recognizes as being seaside. They’re made out to Hermann Gottlieb and Newton Geiszler and purchased a little over a week ago.

“You kept telling me you wanted me to meet your father,” Hermann says, and rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. “And—I thought it might be nice, to have an—er—vacation, for a few days. We’ve certainly earned one. And it’s not as if we have any truly pressing obligations at the moment that can’t be put on hold for a week or two. I was planning on booking us a little cottage up in Maine—or maybe just a hotel room, I hadn’t decided—but we don’t have to if you don’t—”

“And you’ve been saving up for it?” Newt interrupts.

“For a few months now,” Hermann says. “Since February, in fact.”

“And that’s why…?”

The tips of Hermann’s ears turn red. “Every penny helped,” he says.

Newt carefully re-folds the itinerary, sets it aside, and then kisses Hermann soundly. It would be safe to say that Hermann’s thoughtful, romantic moods tend to be on the spontaneous side, probably as spontaneous as they are in Newt, so when one strikes Hermann (and in such a perfectly Hermann way as this one) Newt doesn’t like to take it for granted. “Of course I wanna go on vacation with you,” Newt says. “You rock. Seriously.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” Hermann says, looking pleased.

[bffsoobin]

Iced Chai

↳ you had a small obsession with drinking iced chai lattes between class, and it just so happened that the coffee store on campus had the best ones. when a new barista replaces the one who used to make your drink, you put him to the test. he makes the most wonderful iced chai you’d ever had. he’s also one of the most handsome boys you ever seen on campus.

➤ fluff, college!au, shy barista!hueningkai

Word Count:3,830

A/N: yes, this fic is very much influenced by my massive love for iced chai lattes and the way I consumed them up until March when we had to leave campus. Sadly I didn’t have any cute boys serving me :(. Anywho, I hope you enjoy it! Please keep in mind that I haven’t proofread, so there may be some small mistakes!

•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•☾☼☽•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:••:•.•

Calculus was a pain in the ass. Obviously, you knew this well before you scheduled for your freshmen year of college, but there was no way to avoid the reality handed to you by your major. So every Monday, Wednesday and Friday morning at 8 am you endured the rambling lectures of your less than spry professor who could barely work his desktop computer. You tried your best to pay attention, you really did, but there was only so much you could do when the conversation shifted from tangent lines to the best way to reheat fast food french fries.

As you doodled in the margins of your lined notebook, your mind wandered to the only good thing sitting through this class does for you. Other than the credits. As soon as the clock struck 9am, you had a date with the on campus café. The roughly hour break between the end of calculus and the beginning of chemistry gave you the perfect window to enjoy some alone time. Homey, student run and always playing some version of a coffee shop playlist; the place was your haven on campus. Not only did you love the atmosphere and the fact that it was the best place on campus to study, but they also serve the best iced chai latte you’d ever encountered. The thought of the drink alone made your mouth salivate. From your first hesitant order, you had become hooked. Within your first week on campus, you had easily drank 10 cups of the chilled goodness before your roommate expressed concern for the sheer amount of sugar and dairy you’d been consuming. 

Due to the timing of your tri-weekly trips, you had always been served by the same lovely barista, Rachael. She was stylish, down to earth and always told you a good joke when you showed up looking especially out of it. Most importantly, something about the way she mixed the drink convinced you that she surely was sent from the heavens.

When your graying professor finally let your class go for the day, you walked on clouds to your favorite spot on campus. It had rained during class so the air was chilled and the ground was still damp. The telltale scent of rain invaded your senses and a chill ran through you. Most people would be craving a hot coffee or steaming cup of tea- but all you desired was the smooth flavor of your favorite drink. The walk to your beloved café wasn’t long, but you always found yourself in a bit of a rush to get there as soon as you possibly could. In a moment of carelessness, you stepped right into a rather large puddle and soaked one of your feet right through your shoes and your sock. Disgusting you thought as you finally arrived at the door. The handle was slick with moisture thanks to the weather, but you wiped your hand onto your sweatshirt as you stepped inside and let the familiar scent of coffee grounds occupy your mind. Your shoulders relaxed simply at the relaxed atmosphere.

A few students who also frequented around this time were sitting at their usual tables, and you waved at them politely before taking yourself- and your squelching shoe- over to the small booth you’d come to know and love. You ditched your bookbag on the table with a thud, feeling secure with the knowledge of your agreement with the girl who sat at the table next to you to keep an eye on your things. 

As you headed toward the counter, you belatedly noticed that the line seemed a bit more backed up than usual. It wasn’t too big of a concern, as your college was relatively small and waiting an extra five minutes would by no means ruin your timing. It was just curious. Usually Rachael ran the counter with the ease of an experienced sailor, but that ease seemed to be missing today. Nevertheless, the line inched forward steadily. Engrossed in your phone, you hadn’t noticed the glaring difference in your routine until you got to the cash register. While placing your plastic ID card over the scanner, you chirped “just my usual, Rachael!” 

Despite what your mind told you would happen next- she would laugh, say okay, maybe ask about class while handing over a receipt- you were met with an awkward stutter that your trusty barista certainly didn’t make. 

“I-I’m sorry, I don’t know your usual,” upon finally looking up, your brain processed the sight of a new boy. A new gorgeous boy. Did they only hire beautiful people here? His black hair was falling into his eyes, charmingly shaggy and exposing just enough of his forehead to make you oddly wish you could see more. His cheeks were dusted in a light pink blush that both charmed you and made you feel bad at the same time. He seemed so fresh. Upon further inspection, you caught his handmade name tag written in slightly shaky handwriting that was so cutely boyish. Hueningkai. He had decorated one corner with a smiley face and the other with a drawing of a coffee bean that looked suspiciously like nothing more than a dark brown blob with a small accent line down the middle. 

“I’m sorry, Hueningkai,” you didn’t miss the way his eyes widened slightly at the use of his name, “usually Rachael is here to take my order. But I’ll take a large iced chai latte, please.” He nodded quickly, reverting his eyes to the LED screen which his eyes bounced around for a few seconds before he finally found the correct button. This must have been why the line seemed abnormally long. As the sound of your receipt printing filled the silence, you asked; “first day?” 

A melodious laugh fell from his lips, causing a scrunch of his perfectly pointed nose that you felt honored to have seen as he stepped away from the register to start making your drink. “That obvious, huh?” Another worker came to take his spot and serve the next student but you followed Hueningkai to his new destination. For as shy as he was at the cash register, he moved with much more confidence when it came to actually making drinks. His earlier hesitation was totally gone as he got to work mixing up your drink. In his new position, you could get a better look at his hands, adorned in simple silver jewelry that embarrassingly made your breath catch in your throat. His actions were over almost as quickly as they began, and his earlier hesitation seemed to return as he slid the drink to you over the granite counter top. You grasped at it eagerly in the same moment he reached to balance a straw on top of the lid. 

For a brief moment your fingers lingered and your mind went wild at the absurdity that you honestly felt sparks pass between the two of you. 

“Oh, uh, sorry,” he mumbled, dipping his head down awkwardly as he finally tore his hand away. You smiled back earnestly, hoping to make him understand that you weren’t bothered at all by the contact. 

Back at the safety of your table, you took a second to collect yourself. Surely you were overreacting to the small interaction. After all, you were already having a pretty weird day. Looking down at your clear cup, you remembered the beginning of your dilemma- the absence of amazing barista Rachael. Hueningkai was adorable, but could his skills hold up to the woman who made drinks you literally dreamed about? Tentatively, you took a sip of the drink and immediately cocked your head to the side. On the off chance your taste buds had totally deceived you, you took another long swig from the cup. 

Hueningkai’s drink was even better than Rachael’s.

——

The next morning, you awoke before your alarm even started to beep. Thursdays meant no class until 1 o’clock, so you had almost all the time in the world to catch up on assignments and homework and do your errands. Instead of doing anything constructive, you found yourself craving yet another iced chai latte. As you voiced this desire to your roommate, she looked at you as if you’d just admitted to the murder of 4 people.

“Are you insane? Do you not remember how miserable you felt after drinking two a day? I can’t let you do that again. You can go to the café but at least drink something different!” You knew that she was right, but something inside of you- that shitty little perpetual teenage boy who hides in a corner of your mind- told you to do the exact opposite of what she said.

“I’m sorry,” you shuffled through the shirts hanging in your closet, the sound of the plastic hangers clicking together resonating in the otherwise quiet room. “But you have to go to class so there’s no way you can police me. Plus,” you pulled a shirt out of your closet and slid over to your cheap full length mirror to inspect yourself. “You didn’t see Hueningkai. He is...” your cheeks flushed as your roommate began to let out a high pitched squeal. “Shhh! The walls are thin!”

“Oh don’t act so scandalized. I guess it makes sense that you’d have a crush on the boy who feeds your addiction.” You rolled your eyes at her, lobbing a pair of rolled up socks in her direction in retaliation. They hit her side softly before bouncing to the floor dejectedly. “You,” she pointed a finger your way as you rooted through your drawer for a pair of jeans, “are ridiculous. Have fun with your dreamy boy while I’m at class.”

Despite the familiarity of the path to the café, you still felt a bit out of place making the trip on a Thursday. Even the other students passing you by felt wrong in a way you couldn’t quite place. There was also the lingering worry that Hueningkai wasn’t even working today, and you’d show up to the small building just for a dose of disappointment. In you worried haze, you had barely noticed you arrived until the door was pushed open from the inside and a small pack of students held the door aside for you.

Inside of the building, a blanket of warm air surrounded your form and the faint smell of cinnamon drifted easily through the air. You were instantly calmed by the scent until someone bumped into your shoulder. With wide eyes, you looked around to see about double the amount of people your usual visits yielded. You were in no way prepared for the absolute mass of bodies that filtered between the tables and comfortable sitting areas. 

Feeling a bit lost, you put yourself into the line of waiting students and tried your best to peer over heads and around bodies to see if you could catch a glimpse of the barista that had captivated you so easily. It didn’t look like he was making drinks, but you held out hope that he was manning the register that was blocked from your sight. After what felt like forever, you reached the register and came face to face with...not Hueningkai. Despite your disappointment, there was no way you would turn down a drink, even made by a non-Hueningkai. 

Once you had the chilled cup cradled in your hands, you took a hopeless look around at the full dining room. Almost every table looked to be occupied, and some students had even resorted to leaning against the walls to chat and sip their drinks. The back of your neck began to heat up as you wandered around hoping for anyone to decide they were done and get up to leave. You had almost given up and decided to just go back to your dorm and lick your metaphorical wounds when a voice called your name. It only took a second of looking around to lock eyes with the one who was calling for you. 

Hueningkai. He had a light blush filling his cheeks as he waved a hand noncommittally your way. He looked ethereal sitting at the table, hot cup of something steaming next to his sticker covered laptop. His eyes were wide and adorably eager; akin to the look of a puppy who had just seen their owner after a long day. Your feet were working before your brain, so when you arrived to the table you had to scramble for an opener. 

“Hey! I was looking for you!” you winced. Way to go, Y/N. Out yourself on the second meeting. “I mean, uh,” you felt the cup in your hand start to slip with the sweat your palms produced, “I was hoping you’d make my drink again.” 

A smile spread like wildfire on Hueningkai’s face and his eyes crinkled adorably in the corners.

“You liked it that much?” His voice was meek, oddly shy for the way he beamed up at you with so much ease. 

“Yeah! It was really good. Even better than Rachael’s, to be honest.”

“Really? She was the best barista here!” He brought a hand up to his mouth in shock. 

“Yeah, really! Anyway, I can get going if you...you look busy,” you gestured toward his open laptop and drink that you were sure was rapidly cooling the longer you distracted him. 

“No!” he blurted the word before visibly flinching at his actions. At least it wasn’t just you feeling like a fumbling idiot. “I called you over cause it looked like you needed a seat? And if you want to sit with me, you can. I’m just working on a presentation and you won’t distract me, I promise.” There was no way you could deny the eagerness lacing his voice, so you pulled the chair opposite him across the floor and settled in. 

----

“That sounds like a date. A hangout at the very least,” your roommate asserted as she typed some code into her computer. 

“It was not a date!” You whined, glaring up at your ceiling from your spot on your twin XL. “He just saw me looking for a place to sit and offered.” She scoffed. 

“Yeah, and then he proceeded to ignore his homework to talk to you. And then he asked if you were coming back to the cafe tomorrow. And then he-” 

“Okay, I get it! But what am I supposed to do? Ask him out?” A bubble of nerves was resting heavily in your stomach at the thought. As much as you liked him, who were you to think that he wasn’t just being kind? When you voiced this concern to your roommate, she tossed her computer to the side and strode over to your bed to not-so-gently pull you out of it. Without an idea of what she was doing, you stood dumbly until she put on her slippers and drug you out of your room. 

“What are you doing? I didn’t even put my slippers on!” Your sock covered feet slid across the tile of the hallway as your roommate finally hauled you into the common room of your floor, where a few small groups had gathered to do various activities. 

“Hi everyone! My lovely roommate Y/N and I have a question for you. Do any of you know Hueningkai? He works at the cafe, really tall, music major?” A few people nodded in confusion, surely wondering why the hell one of the polite tenants of room 112 was conducting some kind of survey in the lounge. 

“Great. Has he ever shown interest in any of you? Asked you to sit with him in the cafe? Spent about an hour inquiring about your life instead of quietly working? Gave you his number?” Everyone who had previously nodded stood still, not moving an inch as they whispered between each other. “Okay, that’s all!” Your roommate left with no further elaboration as you called out a weak apology to everyone. Back in the safety of your room, you stared at her, scandalized. 

“What was that?” 

“That, my dear Y/N, was proof. He likes you!”

----

A nervousness you hadn’t felt since move in day was crawling through your body the closer the clock ticked to 9 am. Theoretically, you could just skip going to get a drink today, and therefore avoid the source of your nerves; but you knew that Hueningkai was expecting you to show. He had even sent you an eager text this morning with a series of heart wrenchingly adorable emojis. There was no way you could avoid him after that. 

Late fall weather had surely settled in today and you felt the chill settle into your bones as soon as you stepped out of the math building. For a few seconds, you stopped to watch a rough breeze rustle browning leaves across the concrete paths of campus before simply digging your hands further into your pockets. You had to power your way through this. Worse case scenario, he says no and you can never show your face on campus again. Simple. 

The door felt especially heavy under your hands as you hauled it open. The much more familiar, sparsely populated shop greeted you but only ratcheted up your nerves. With less people milling around, there was no way to delay your conversation with Hueningkai. As soon as you began to approach the counter, you could see him stumble over to the register before the other working student could even attempt to. He tried to casually lean his elbow onto the half wall to his left, but he miscalculated and ended up shyly tucking his hands into the front pocket of his apron. 

“Hi,” you swallowed the lump in your throat and hoped that he hadn’t notice the shake in your voice. The familiar beep of the card reader interrupted your worries momentarily as you heard the boy in front of you exhale a greeting. 

“Your usual?” He inquired as if he hadn’t already seen you with the drink two days in a row. Not trusting your voice, you simply nodded and waited for him to punch the order into the screen. His hand hesitated as he glanced up at you again. “You’re the only person I know still ordering cold drinks in this weather,” a teasing smile had blossomed on his pink lips and your heart jumped at the sight. 

“Well, I guess I’m just a bit stuck in my ways,” you followed him, as always, to the other side of the counter where orders were placed when finished. 

“I like that,” he commented as he grabbed a cup, “it makes my job a whole lot easier,” your eyes locked onto his hands out of instinct. Yesterday you had noticed the addition of a thin silver chain around his wrist, and you would be lying if you hadn’t spent a few minutes admiring the delicate chain contrasted against the strength of his hands. A pour of ice pulled you out of your thoughts, and you caught the back half of a question from him. 

“What’d you say?” You felt as if lava was bubbling right under the surface of your skin as you reeled in embarrassment. You couldn’t believe that you’d let yourself miss a chunk of conversation for something so stupid. 

“Oh,” he seemed equally embarrassed that you hadn’t heard him, and it hurt your heart a little to see the way his eyes shook. “I just wanted to know if you had a good night yesterday. I mean because you-you told me when we hung out that you had a lot of reading to do, and I wasn’t sure if you got it all done. Sometimes I get so overwhelmed with readings that I don’t do any of them, and Taehyun yells at me for that but I just can’t seem to stop doing it.” He was rambling, and you both knew it, but you let him continue as he shyly looked away in order to pour your drink over the ice. 

“Yeah, I know what you mean. I had an okay night. My roommate was a bit much, but I love her, so it was okay.” His eyebrow quirked softly at the mention of your roommate, but he seemed afraid to broach the subject just yet. He gave your drink a good swirl after sealing on the lid and slid it over the smooth counter to your waiting hand. Unlike the first time you had met, you had already grabbed a straw from the small display and plunged it into the drink. 

Although you should have walked away, something kept you rooted to the spot, Hueningkai seemed to be under the same kind of spell as he looked over his shoulder to see that no one else had lined up to be served quite yet. 

“Hey, I was wonderi-”

“This might be weird-”

Your sentences clashed in the air as you spoke at the exact same time. Your mouth hung open like a fish out of water and Hueningkai waved his hands around wildly in your direction. “Go ahead!” He enthused, looking as if he was going to melt into the floor as a side effect of interrupting you. 

“No, I mean, you can say your thing first, if you- if you want,” you offered weakly. 

“No, it’s okay, you definitely spoke first. G-go ahead,” he nodded rapidly in order to convince you further. You raised your eyebrows in a silent question of ‘are you sure?’, to which he nodded again. 

“Okay, I was wondering if you’d like to, uhm, go out sometime? On a date?” The words felt like weights rolling off of your tongue. Hueningkai blinked once, twice, a third time before he broke into a peal of laughter. A sudden wash of panic, as if someone had dumped a bucket of ice water over your head, filled your senses. This was it. You would have to transfer schools and change your hair color to get rid of this incident. Goodbye, life you had come to know and love. 

Hueningkai must have recognized your panic as he took a harsh breath and surged forward to reach for your arm. 

“Wait! I wasn’t laughing at you! It’s just that I was, um, also going to ask you out.” This time, a laugh bubbled up in your throat at the confession. 

“You’re right. That is pretty hilarious.” You admitted, feeling the tension around you totally dissipate. 

“Well, I think this bodes well for us. We’ve only known each other for a few days and we already have telepathy. My roommate will be so jealous. He’s been trying to meld our minds for weeks.” His personality was beginning to peak through when he spoke about his friends, you noticed. It was charming. He was charming. Not to mention, he still made the best damn iced chai latte you’d ever had. 

[mjm5655]

corner booth furthest from the entrance ... never mind what corner booth it was, the corner tables were their most expensive to sit at, a base sum of fifty thousand yen to be exact ! then came the cost of the hostesses, drink & food. no wonder this kid tried to play hit n' run tonight, likely could never hope to cover those costs !

but majima had pinpointed the table in a matter of seconds having been given that information, the young man would have been sat at none other than table twenty-eight. he asked the man on duty to look for the data on that camera, & gave him a rough time estimation of when the young man left, they actually got footage of him being shown over to the table around that time never mind just leaving it.

he was at down, & not one, not two, but three hostesses came & sat with him, all of them were getting cosy with the young man ( probably because they thought he would be able to pay a ton of yen to them, poor girls ! ), there was drinks ordered, but no food at all. in total, the young man would have amounted a bill of around two hundred thousand yen ! how would someone so young have so much money ? he didn't look like he was the type to be high in riches.

majima kept watching on, when it was barely ten minutes, he saw the young man getting up to leave ... their service was a thirty minute minimum when it came to charges, so not only did he spend this much if he did pay, he didn't even get his worth out of it. what shocked him came next as he saw the young man handing one of the workers a wad of cash, he recognised that worker & told the workers he had in with him to go get him. he continued to watch, & saw, instead of just going out the main exit for customers, the young man looked like he was rushing to get away, & went through the back entrance. majima turned around to look down at the young man, to try & take in his appearance, he really didn't look anything that special, how did he manage to pay ?

just as he was about to speak & ask, the worker majima requested to come in, just entered the room, majima immediately questioned him, asking him how much he was paid tonight by this young man. the worker replied that he was paid five hundred thousand yen, to say majima was shock was an understatement.

❝ haw ? ❞

just boggled, that's what majima's current state of mind was. why did young man act so suspicious if he had that kind of money to spend in a single night ? majima decided to turn round to the other, this young man could've made a good customer, though majima feels like he's ruined that chance, but regardless, what was he using that exit for ?

❝ so ya paid then, lucky ya, gettin' to live to see another day, but never mind that, what're ya doin' usin' the back exit for then ? & how does someone as young as ya get all that cash ? ❞

"I...yeah, I can do that," Noctis hoped that his swift response would help to quick to appease the man but it wasn't like he had much of a choice. If he didn't go with him, the best case scenario would be that he got roughed up. Worst case, he'd end up dead. Besides, it wasn't like he had anything to hide. The guy would watch the security footage and he'd see that Noctis had been telling the truth.

He let out a soft sigh of relief as the blade was removed. He wasn't out of danger just yet, the tight grip was enough of a reminder of that, but it was progress. He considered asking him to let him go – to promise that he wasn't going to run, but he thought that might just make him angry so he kept his mouth shut.

The walk to the surveillance room was awkward. The grip on his arm was almost painful and he found himself stumbling to keep up. Actually sitting in the room was worse though. He was shoved, rather unceremoniously into a chair with one of his employees watching him like a hawk. He felt like a criminal.

Noctis shifted in the seat, rubbing the back of his neck as he watched the man. He blinked as he spoke up, sitting forward slightly.

"Oh, um, I was sat at one of the corner booths furthest away from the entrance." It had been an almost subconscious strategic choice. It gave him a good view of the rest of the bar and nobody could sneak up behind him. "I'm not sure exactly what time it was, but I probably left around five minutes before you found me outside."

He hadn't been planning on hanging around, after all. He'd just wanted to go home.

"Once you see that I'm telling the truth, I can go, right?"

[rougebangtan]

pairing: jungkook | reader

genre: strangers to lovers, fluff

word count: 1.840

prompt: old rock + can fulfill the ghostie bingo prompt

warnings: there’s a little making out in the end, so if you don’t like that, please be warned.

You roll your eyes in annoyance at the man in front of you. It is the third consecutive week that he has come to the store without making any purchases. The young man always wore all-black outfits, and would come by in the afternoons, granting you the honor of his visits. He would browse the store, flicking obnoxiously through the CD’s and records for hours on end.

One thing you had to give credits where the credit was due, however, was his impeccable sense of style. He dressed himself in a very unique and pristine manner; even as he tried to look badass, he most certainly looked soft and innocent. The amount of detail he put on his looks was nothing short of admirable. You caught yourself more than once enthralled by the way his earrings would dangle on his lobes.

The shop you work in is in a rundown spot of the city’s downtown which, in turn, had caused you to see all kind of people. Not many where as pretty as the handsome boy that was showing up so often, but you weren’t going to allow yourself to be biased; his pretty privilege had already cut him a lot of slack. You’ve grown impatient with waiting. It’s already been close to a month and the guy hasn’t bought anything.

Sucking in a breath, you think about your options. You have two: you either ignore him or finally set him straight. The choice is clear to you since your mama didn’t raise you to be a quitter. You feel yourself marching towards him before your mind processes the closeness between the two of you. You have your resting bitch face on and that’s what you attribute his stunned expression to as he gets even more wide-eyed.

With a silent sigh, you observe how he shifts in his spot, his legs alternating which one sustains his weight. Oh, boy, now he’s anxious? If anything, it’s you who should be.

“Hi,” you utter with a blank expression plastered on your face, adopting the most authentic salesperson persona you can. “We usually rather to let your customers pick what they want themselves, but you seem kinda lost. I’ve noticed you come to the shop often… I was wondering if you need help?”

He shifts under your gaze, looking absolutely caught off-guard. “Hmm, yeah,” he agrees while his hand goes to scratch his nape in a deflective move. “I could use some help… sorry about always leaving empty-handed. I’m just a very indecisive person.”

You chuckle lightly at that. The boy is super cute. “What are you looking for, pretty boy?”

“A gift.” He answers, and something evil stirs inside of you. You’re going to hell for the thoughts that swirls in your mind.

“A gift? For who? A significant other? A friend?” You query, subtly gauging his relationship status, and he seems to pick it up quite fast.

“It’s for a friend. We’re in a band together, and this store has many LPs that he’d like to add to his collection.” He explains, but he doesn’t keep eye contact for too long.

His cheeks heat up at how intently you pay attention to him. You figured that if he’d just waltz inside your workplace during three weeks to buy something, you had the prerogative to make him squirm.

“I like this one better,” you say as you pick up the Queen LP. “Their music definitely tells a story… I’m not quite sure about the words to describe it, but it just makes you feel nostalgic. In a good way, though. Makes your heart beat a little faster.”

As he stays quiet, you continue to go off about your favorite music in order to give him some insight in what to buy.

“Whereas this one,” you lay the LP in your hands down to grab another. “is kind of a little chaotic. I won’t say it doesn’t grow on you, but it’s a hard one to wrap your head around. At least for me.” You admit with a shrug.

“It’s hard to really get into it every time I try to listen.” His eyes were wide when you said that, and the pink shade that tainted his cheeks had started to creep up to his ears.

“I will take that one, then. Jimin will probably like it. He’s a chaotic person, so the concept suits him.” The man nodded.

“You sure? Don’t you want to hear a few tracks before you make a decision?” You question him, not wanting to be the one to blame in case the LP turns out to be a bad choice.

When he nods again in reassurance, you comply and walk back to the cash register, so you can ring up his purchase. What you don’t expect, however, is when he mutters: “What’s your name?”

You grin at the sheepish manner that he asks for it, and you wish you could hold his face between the palm of your hands seeing as he looks adorable, even with the pretense badass look. “Y/n. And yours?”

“Jungkook,” he replies earnestly.

“Well, Jungkook, it’s nice to meet you. Here’s your LP,” you announce and hand him the record. “It retails for a total of $15,99.”

He reaches on his pockets after taking the LP from you, and drops a 20-dollar bill on the counter. “Keep the change,” he whispers once he watches you moving around the register.

You gape at him briefly before you watch as he begins shifting again, and you could drool when he bites his already very pink lips. It’s not difficult to notice he wants to say something, but he doesn’t know how to, which is why you wait for him, Jungkook, with an expectant expression gracing your features.

“Thanks,” he settles on saying. Lifting the bag in hand, he clarifies. “For the LP, I mean.”

“You’re welcome,” you respond, a smile never leaving your face. “Thank you for your purchase. Hope you make good use of it.”

He still looks uncertain, but he nods and moves to the door to leave. “Yea, thanks again… Catch you a next time?”

It’s your turn to nod at his words. “Sure. See ya next time, Jungkook.”

When you return his hopeful sentiment, he beams, and as he makes his exit, you swear you could see a skip to his step.

Today was insanely hot, not even your outfit was helping, and you had chosen a smaller tank top paired with some bike shorts because of the weather. It’s been two weeks since you’ve last seen Jungkook, and your days felt like clockwork. You hated that he spent weeks coming to the shop, but as soon as he was confronted about it (very nicely, you add), he stops passing by.

You weren’t sure if it was the sweltering heat, but what you knew for certain is that the day passed in an agonizingly slow pace. You could count in your two hands how many people had entered the stop, and for that reason, you decided to close earlier. It wasn’t super early to close, though; it was only 10 minutes before your actual schedule.

When you get to the door, however, you’re met with a pleasant surprise. A scarcely dressed Jungkook is sweating in front of you, gasping for air, and his eyes twinkle in street’s lighting. He looks delicious, and the neediness you often feel quickly rekindles at the glorious sight you were gifted with.

“Y/n, hi!” He greets you, but you can see he’s still a little breathless.

‘Hi,” you greet back, second-guessing what you should do. You cave to the needy part of you that wishes to eye the boy for a longer while. “I was just about to close up… but you’re sweating buckets. Do you want a glass of water?”

He only signals in consent, and you step out so he could enter. You close the shop regardless, since that way you’d spare yourself of the trouble of leaving it open and Jungkook stays behind, watching as you do so.

After you give him a huge glass of ice-cold water, you observe him suspiciously. Resting against the counter, you wonder what was he doing there? His eyes are mesmerizing, and even as he gulps the refreshing liquid down, they never stray from your figure. You smile smugly to yourself. Your tank top left your bountiful cleavage on display as well as your back tattoos, and you’ve been proved that such combo had an interesting effect in men.

“What are you doing here, Jungkook?” You finally speak up when he stays silent. He seems surprised because his eyes, which were glued to your chest, are suddenly looking back at yours.

“Like what you see?” You tease.

He blushes at your statement and his hand soon find his nape. You noticed his recurrent mannerisms relied a lot on body language, and you could sense how shy the boy actually is around you.

“I forgot…” He mumbles with uncertainty, then shakes his head. “I didn’t know how to… askforyournumber.”

“What?” You ask, your eyebrows furrowed.

“I didn’t know how to ask for your number.”

“Oh?” You gasp, then slowly stalk over to where he is. “Really? You should’ve told me… instead of coming to the show so many times, then vanishing.”

You watch in entertainment as his eyes widen so much, it looks like they could bulge out of their sockets. “Oh… I’m sorry about that.”

“How about this, Jungkook?” You say and your eyes flutter while staring at the beautiful boy, at the way his tongue moistens his lips. “You give me a kiss, and I give you my number. Would you like that?”

He nods repeatedly, eyeing your chest and tattoos wantonly. “Do you want to touch?”

Without saying anything, Jungkook touches the ink on your shoulders reverentially, his fingertips soon finding the crook of your boobs. You also put your hands on him, sneaking them underneath his shirt, and you swear you had to hold back a moan when you feel his pecs.

Needless of verbal communication, your lips brush against his, and he eagerly accepts the kiss. The pair of you kiss for minutes, his tongue brushes against yours sensually and you lose it when you feel Jungkook’s hard dick poke on your thigh. As you separate from one another, you realize you don’t want his manly hands to get off you.

Resting your hands on his chest while you gaze him through your lashes, you try to ask him out in the most nonchalant way. “Do you want to get out of here?”

His smile is blinding, and his hands grab your hips in reassurance. “I’d love to.”

The smile on your face is also uncontainable, so you rush to pick your stuff up and lock the backdoor. On your way out, you almost can’t believe you’re in fact walking hand-in-hand with the mysterious boy that thought dropping by at your work was a good flirting method.

If it was good, you didn’t know, but it was damn well effective.

a/n: Sammy !!! here it is, i envisioned the reader as you @breadoffoxy ily! Jester, @youarejesting, thank you for borrowing me your prompt. I hope to have done it justice. 🤍

[makaojr]

Tips and tricks for travelling in Africa. Ultimate guide

written by Makaojr

April 14, 2019

You’ve finally taken the plunge and booked that ticket for an epic African adventure, you’ve planned a rough itinerary, picked your safari, and soon you’ll be on your way – hooray!

From the incredible natural environment to the rich cultural history, the friendly locals to the vibrant markets, Africa has everything, sometimes all at once. There’s just something about this fascinating continent that pulls you in and keeps you wanting to return over and over again. But there’s no denying that it can also be a daunting place to travel for even the hardiest of explorers!

We recently spent 4 months travelling through southern and central Africa, and we compiled all the things we either learnt along the way (through misfortune or trial and error!), or wish we’d known before we left for you, so you can focus on having the stress-free African adventure of your dreams!

How to speak the language

If you’re worried you’re going to get stuck at the airport in Tanzania forever because you can’t direct your taxi driver in fluent swahili, stay calm.

You’ll be mighty relieved to discover that despite the 1,500-2,000 local languages spoken in Africa, English is actually an official language in many countries (along with German or French in a few countries!).

Don’t miss out by being lazy and relying solely on English though; learn some key phrases. The locals will appreciate it and you’ll have a much richer experience for it – like the time a friendly Malawian fruit stall owner threw in a few extra pieces because we attempted our best Chichewa with him!

What the locals are like

Forget what you’ve seen in the movies; collectively, Africans are some of the friendliest people on the planet. It’s common to be greeted with a huge smile and hello, and most are keen to learn your name, where you’re from and why you’re visiting.

You’ll probably encounter the phrase ‘Mzungu’ being thrown your way – often by locals smiling as they wave out of car windows or pass you on the street. The literal translation from Swahili is ‘person who wanders without purpose’, though these days it’s used to describe any white foreigner. It’s mostly said in a friendly, joking way – so try not to take offence.

It’s also important to remember that Africa as a whole is very religious (Christianity and Islam are widely practiced) and quite conservative so be respectful of this in your speech and dress.

How to avoid border hassles

Unfortunately corrupt border processes are one aspect of African travel that can be seriously frustrating for travellers.

Most of the time you’ll pass with no issue, other times you may have to wait hours for your passport to be processed without explanation, or be asked to pay a corrupt official a bribe. Then there are the touts offering to exchange your money at rates that are totally ridiculous, or trying to sell you anything from bangles to samosas (side note: always buy the samosas, guys).

Thankfully, we managed to make it through eight different border controls with minimal hassle, and you can too, by following these tips:

Be informed: Know your visa requirements before visiting any country in Africa. Get in touch with your local embassy before travelling, or pay a visit to Project Visa for answers to all your visa-related questions.

Be organised: While you can get most visas at the individual points of entry, arranging them ahead of time saves a tonne of hassle (and sometimes, money!) later.

Be money smart: Always carry spare US dollars just in case. If you need to change money on the border, always know the exchange rate before you get there and bargain hard.

Be stubborn – if someone looks like they’re deliberately holding things up to make you pay to “rush it through” firmly (and politely!) ask to have your passport back. If you’re certain that your visa meets all the requirements but you’re being asked to pay more to get it approved, decline and ask to speak to another official.

Above all else: approach the process with a smile and have a laugh. It’s easier that way!

How to travel around

One of the best things about travelling in Africa is no matter where you are or where you want to go, getting from A-to-B is always possible. How you get from A-B however, is another story altogether.

Taxis, tuk tuks, mopeds, rickshaws, you name it… If it has wheels and appears capable of travelling some distance, you can probably travel on it. You might find yourself sitting on a flight or bus, crammed into a local mini bus with 25 other people (and the odd goat or chicken!), or hitching a ride in the back of a pick-up with half a village heading home from the markets.

For the record: travelling by mini-bus is an African rite of passage and we totally recommend embracing the uncomfortable seat and cramped conditions for this insight to how the locals live!

For a journey you can relax into, our tips are:

Always travel by day. Always.

Always wear your seatbelt

Don’t expect to leave or arrive on time – things run on Africa time here!

You may, or may not, get a seat. You may sit in the aisle of the bus for 5 hours with a chicken pecking at your head. Roll with it – it’s all part of the adventure!

For most mini bus journeys, you can negotiate your fare

Never pay a “bag storage fee” on large buses. It’s a scam – your ticket price includes your baggage.

Accommodation

From tailor-made luxury safari tents where you can live like Prince Harry, through to your standard backpacker dorms where snore-proof earplugs are a must – the options of where to lay your head in Africa are many and varied.

Many travellers actually choose to camp their way through Africa (we often did!), because the camping facilities are accessible, safe, full of good amenities, and super cheap. Plus, what better way to make new friends than by sitting round the campfire swapping stories about your day?!

Larger cities have all the usual accommodation options, the further into the countryside you venture, the less options are available. Don’t fear though, you’ll ALWAYS find somewhere to rest up after a hard day’s adventuring!

Things to consider:

Always book accommodation well in advance during peak season (May – October). Places like Namibia are extremely popular, with very limited accommodation in desert areas.

Use guide books, online reviews or local recommendations. Does it get good reviews?!

Does your accommodation have a safe, lockers or locks?

Is there a night watchman/security to make sure you and your belongings are safe overnight?

How to stay healthy

Medication & health: Check with your GP about what vaccinations and medication you’ll need before you depart.

Hot tip: Most countries require Yellow Fever vaccination proof just to enter the country.

We also packed the following to keep us fighting adventure-fit on the road:

Anti malarial medication

Antibiotics

Painkillers

Antihistamine

Iodine tablets

Hydrocortisone cream

Insect repellent: DEET is your new best friend!

* Sadly, though the lakes in Africa look inviting, many are home to a horrible parasite called Bilharzia. We’re not in the business of horror stories, so we’ll leave you to investigate the delights of that one yourself – but you DO NOT want to get it. Always check with locals before taking the plunge.

Water: There’s a pretty common misconception that there’s no clean drinking water in Africa, but we’re here to tell you it is possible to drink water straight from the tap in South Africa, Namibia, and parts of Zambia and Botswana. Head north and you’ll need to be cautious, but carry iodine tablets and you’ll be fine!

Food: All you really need to know is that food in Africa is delicious. It’s also mostly high quality – though perhaps avoid meat in remote areas due to a lack of proper refrigeration.

How to stay safe

We actually felt more safe in African countries than we did in other regions of the world we’ve visited. However, as always it pays to do your research before you go.

Keep the following in mind and you’ll have a stress-free trip!

Leave the flashy jewelry and designer labels at home – they’re not practical, and make you a target instantly.

Wear a money belt OR only take a day’s worth of cash out with you.

When taking money out at an ATM, be aware of your surroundings. If something seems suspicious, move along quickly.

We’re photographers, which means we always travel with big cameras and even bigger lenses. But you’d never know, because they’re safely locked away in our bags till needed. Don’t make yourself a target by waving yours around!

Don’t walk the streets at night by yourself, especially in larger cities or towns. If you’re out late, take a taxi or Uber, every time.

Pickpockets exist here as they do everywhere, so if you’re visiting markets, bazaars, train or bus stations be extra careful.

Going it alone

Africa is a wonderful place to travel solo. If you’re open, you can have wonderfully rich experiences while meeting incredible people. You’ll also find that it’s pretty safe – any dangers that exist for both males and females are pretty the same as anywhere else you’d travel to.

Where possible, follow these tips and you should have no issues:

Be cautious when travelling to remote regions

Don’t travel alone at night

Register your travel plans with your government

Keep in regular contact with members at home

Money matters

Africa isn’t a cheap holiday by any stretch – generally the daily costs for a traveller are much higher than in Asia or even South America.

Budget around $100USD per day per person for transport, accommodation and food. Safaris and adventure activities bump up the cost substantially, so you’ll need to allocate more for those.

There are 54 currencies in Africa, so things can get tricky if you’re travelling to multiple countries. Here are a few tips to handle it all:

Most southern African countries have ATM’s or credit card facilities. If not, it’s best to find a local bank and stock up on currency.

If you have a large amount of currency left over when leaving a country, exchange it at the border with a reputable source. Only in extreme circumstances should you use street vendors

Always hide at least $200 USD somewhere safe in case of emergencies

Credit card fraud is big time in Southern Africa, so be wary. We had our cards skimmed in South Africa and temporarily lost AUD$1500!

Tipping is generally expected, though it varies region to region

Staying scam-free

Our general rule of thumb is “if it sounds too good to be true, it probably is”; live by this in Africa and you should be okay.

Here’s what to avoid:

People offering a good or service (e.g. tour) for free, including tours, only to charge exorbitantly at the conclusion of the service

Fake products or tickets being sold at inflated prices

Payment for stored baggage on bus rides

Insisting on carrying baggage at airports or bus depots, then demanding a large ‘tip’

Over inflated taxi or bus rides – always agree on a price first!

People posing as refugees, students or orphans begging

Other ‘payments’ at border crossings, including health assessments or for bogus documents

Be mindful of resources

Electricity, or lack of it, is big issue in Africa. Many areas have it, yet over 600 million people still go without. As technology develops so does access, however if you are travelling, please take this into consideration. Switch those lights off and unplug your chargers!

We recommend carrying a worldwide travel adaptor and a solar charging device (not all rest camps will have consistent access to power!).

Same goes for water – Africa is a dry continent, and has long-suffered droughts. Short showers = benefit for all.

[chidoroki]

Takt Op. Destiny EP4

aka: oh my, there goes the handsome man

Lenny and Titan overseeing some D2 combat training and offering advice to Takt and Destiny.

“When maestro goes, “twinkle, twinkle, twinkle,” I get the orders like, “bbzt.” And then I go like. “swoosh,” and then like, “blammo, kablooey.” Then victory!” Titan.. you’re real cute, but I have not a damn clue about anything you just said.

Catch me counting how many times I hear Lenny say “ara ara~” throughout this series. This is twice now.

Kinda wild to see Las Vegas just be a bunch of farms, but if the D2 destroyed all the hotels and casinos then what else was there to do I guess.

Three time now, Lenny..

Lenny calling Takt one of his children who’s going through a rebellious phase is the best.

Oh good, Lenny seems a bit suspicious about this Mr. Lang fellow too.

“You should get to bed. Or do you need me to lie down with you?” Why are you shaping up to becoming my favorite, Lenny? You’re such a tease and you’re too good looking.

Ah, Titan was outside with him the entire time?

And they’re both heading out to talk with Mr. Lang, and offering a hefty amount of money to let them play? Play what exactly? Music? Play along with whatever shady scheme is happening here??

God, Anna is so pretty though.

Destiny! Must you always go crashing through walls the moment you sense a D2??

Well damn, this security guard really pulled out a gun against her.. not that it mattered because Destiny crushed it in her hand! Okay girl!!

Hold up, so there is a secret casino here? Is this why Lenny paid Mr. Lang a bunch of cash? To visit the casino?... but why would you pay that much if you were just gonna try and win it all back though? What??

Unless they plan to ruin Mr. Lang’s sketchy, underground casino idea and they needed evidence of some sort.. perhaps that’s it.

Of course several D2s were hiding out here.

Ayy look how well our duo is fighting in harmony now thanks to Lenny’s lessons!

Aw come on, we’re saying bye to Lenny and Titan already??

“I’ve got my mission. We’ll be splitting up here. Will you miss me?” “As if.” If Takt won’t miss you Lenny, then I will! especially the way “ara ara” sounds so lovely with your voice.

Oh yeah, Lenny totally wanted to ruin Mr. Lang’s entire operation. They stole his clientele list, secret accounts and everything.

[malfoysmaybank]

Who Woulda Thought? - JJ Maybank

gif by @toesure

requested by @jailcalledlife

wc; idk a lot

request: Hi! I have an idea for a one shot or story, where a kook reader or character invites JJ to a family weekend or something because they don’t like her kook boyfriend and she thinks if they see JJ they’ll realize how her boyfriend is better for their lifestyle. But they all end up loving JJ and the reader ends up falling for him. And maybe the kook boyfriend could show up and show his true colors of him being a dick. Or her family members can say things like ‘oh we’ve never seen _ so happy’

⚠️ Warnings ⚠️ : angst, fluff, swearing, mentions of !depressive episodes!, !self harm!, !cheating!, and nothing else more than what’s mentioned in the show.

A/N: I AM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO SO LONG. anyways, i love your requests! i’m super excited to write this omggg. if you want me to write for anybody else, let me know! i feel like i’m not giving you guys character diversity and it’s making me self conciousss. also, i’m not in any way romanticizing depression. if you’re suffering with mental health issues, i will make a separate post for hotlines and please look at therapists for your area! finally, i listened to this spotify playlist while writing, check it out!

———————————————————————

“I just don’t understand why you don’t like him!” You were furious at your parents. Your boyfriend of 3 months, Alex, had just met your parents to see if he could go on a family trip with you and let’s just say it didn’t go over well. “He seems suspicious honey! He seems like he’s hiding something and I just don’t trust him! He can’t come!” Your mom said, defensively. “You don’t know him like I do! UGH! This isn’t fair!” You stormed of to your room and slammed the door.

You pressed your back to the wall and sunk down to the floor. As you were fuming and contemplating, a sudden strike of genius hit you. If they don’t like your boyfriend now, just find someone worse to bring.

You quickly pulled out a notebook from your drawer and started writing the necessities of this terrible boyfriend.

A troublemaker. Preferably a criminal record.

A player. He’s gotta have a body count higher than 10, it will raise suspicions.

A heart breaker. Self-explanatory.

Drinks and smokes. Totally illegal.

Then, it hit you. There was one boy who perfectly fit your description: JJ Maybank. But how would you convince him?

Once you were positive your parents were asleep, you snuck off to the safe and pulled $2500 cash from it. Considering you were the wealthiest family on the island, it wasn’t noticeable. You threw on a coat and some boots and trudged out the door to where you knew he’d be.

You knocked on the door to the Chateau, hoping they weren’t asleep. A tall brunette that you’d come to know as John B. opened the door. “Can I help you?” He asked. “Is JJ busy?” You asked, half expecting him to be in the middle of a hook up. “Nah, he’s right in here. Come on in.” John B. opened the door slightly more so you could come in.

“Yo JJ! Someone’s here for you!” John B. yelled. “Tell them I’m not home!” You heard from a couple of rooms away. “A little too late for that, buddy!” You yelled and he instantly peeked around the corner. And there you stood. His crush since the 4th grade when you beat up Rafe Cameron because he was making fun of him. Not that you remembered. He came up to you and John B. left to give you a little privacy.

“What’s up, Y/N?” He asked nonchalantly like his heart wasn’t racing. You guys were pretty close friends but you barely got to see each other because of the difference in social and financial class. You couldn’t deny that you had a crush on him, but you knew it would never go anywhere. How could it? He was JJ Maybank, the lady killer, and you were just... Y/N.

“So, basically my parents hate my boyfriend and I need to use you as a fake so they’ll realize he’s not that bad compared to you.” You said. “Thanks for the compliment.” He said sarcastically. “Anyways, what’s in it for me?” You held up the wad of cash. His eyes went wide. “$2500 and a free trip. You in?” You smiled. “Hell yeah, let’s do this shit.” He said and laughed, still shocked at the amount of money you had. You held the money out to him and he grabbed it. “Thank you so much, you don’t know how much I needed this right now.” JJ said. You felt oddly happy for the blonde boy in front of you. “Alright, Meet me at 2 pm sharp with your stuff packed for 2 days.” You said. “Roger that!” He said with a salute and a smirk. You tried to hide the blush that rose to your cheeks. Maybe a week with JJ Maybank wouldn’t be too bad...

***

JJ got to your home at 2 pm with his bag packed, as promised. You introduced JJ to your parents and your father asked to have a chat with him. Of course, he knew JJ. He loved JJ, he was reliable with work and always kind towards their family. He just wanted to make sure he could take care of his daughter. “Take a seat.” JJ sat down on the couch next to your dad. “So first off, do you love my daughter?” he asked. “So much, sir. She’s perfect.” JJ said and surprisingly, he really meant it. “She is, isn’t she? What are your intentions with my daughter?” He continued. “I want her to feel loved and supported. I’ll do anything to make her happy.” Again, 100% true. “And if you break her heart...” Your dad started but JJ cut him off. “Sir, if I break her heart, you have my full permission to use a chainsaw to cut my limbs off.” Your father laughed and shook his hand. “I like you. I think you’ll be good for Y/N.” “I sure hope so.”

“He’s coming with us!” Your dad said, patting JJ’s back and heading to the car. JJ pulled you aside. “So how will we make this convincing? I promise I won’t make you do anything you aren’t comfortable doing.” JJ said, obviously flustered. “Relax, Maybank. I’ll lead so you won’t feel nervous about trying something new. Got it?” You could tell he was very nervous about this trip and you wanted this to be as comfortable for him as possible. “Gotcha.” You walked back to the car and got in.

It was an 8 hour drive from the Outer Banks to New York. Towards the end of the car ride, you fell asleep, using JJ’s lap as a pillow. He played with your hair as he admired you. “She’s so gorgeous.” He said under his breath. “Awe, aren’t you two the sweetest little things!” Your mom said and JJ blushed. “Yeah, you could say that.” He just continued looking at you with all the love in the world, even if it wasn’t returned. He just wanted to make you feel loved.

When you got to New York, it was around 10 pm. You were still tired from pulling an all-nighter the night before, so JJ gave you a piggyback ride to the hotel. He had never been to the city before so it was all very new to him. The billboards in Time Square, the street food everywhere, the gigantic buildings, it was astonishing to him. But as he felt your warm arms around his neck and you felt his calloused hands on your thighs, the world revolved around the two of you. Time felt slower. You forgot about Alex for the longest time, that was until he called you in the middle of the night and you went out into the hallway to answer.

“Really?! That Pogue over me? Are you SERIOUS right now, Y/N?!” Alex was screaming at you through the phone and you were sure that you had woken a couple rooms. “No! It’s not like that I-” He cut you off. “Don’t even deny it, you slut. We’re done. Now, I don’t have to feel guilty about sleeping with your best friend. Have fun with your new boyfriend.” He ended the call, leaving you silently sobbing in the middle of the hallway.

You suddenly heard a voice. “What’s all that noise abou- hey, hey, hey! What’s wrong, Y/N?” His voice was laced with concern and you stood up and hugged him tightly. He hugged back. “Hey, what’s up? What happened?” He said softly. You took a deep breath in. “A-Alex cheated o-on me and then broke up with m-me.” You said between sobs and he hugged you closer. “I’ll kill him, I swear to god.” He said between gritted teeth. Your parents luckily hadn’t woken up, they were in a different room.

“No, no. Can we just go to bed?” You looked up at him and his eyes softened seeing you that vulnerable. “Yeah, yeah. Come on.” He said delicately, afraid if he said it any louder, you’d break.

You guys went into the room. “Here, you can have the bed and I’ll sleep on the chair over here.” He said. “No, just sleep in the bed.” You said. “No, I’m not making you sleep on the chair.” “I was suggesting more like we just share the bed and nobody sleeps on the chair. Unless that makes you uncomfortable..” You rushed in at the end. “As long as you’re okay with it.” He said. He got in right next to you. You hesitantly inched closer. He instinctively pulled an arm around your waist and pulled you close to him so your head laid on his chest. His raspy voice spoke up. “Goodnight, Y/N.” he said quietly. “Goodnight, JJ.”

***

The next morning, you woke up next to JJ. Talk about a blessing in disguise. You looked up at him, but he was already looking down at you. His blond hair fell messily over his sun-kissed skin. He looked absolutely gorgeous. “Morning, sunshine.” He said softly. You got up and opened the window, making JJ throw his arm over his eyes. “Too bright! Too bright!” He exclaimed and you laughed at his foolishness. You looked out the window again. “Woah.” You said, admiring the view. JJ stood behind you and wrapped his arms around your middle. “I’ll say,”JJ added. But he wasn’t looking outside, he was looking at you.

“Awe, you two are so cute.” Your parents stood in the door way, and your mom held a hand to her heart, smiling. “Hi, mom! How’d you sleep?” You and JJ turned and JJ put his head where your neck met your collarbone. You nuzzled into his touch. “I slept well, and I can see you guys woke up on the right side of the bed!” Your mom giggled “Well, you definitely aren’t wrong there.” JJ said and you blushed. “Well be ready in 2 hours, we’ve got plans today!” Your mom walked out and you got ready for a shower.

JJ got ready and flopped on the bed, staring at the ceiling. He couldn’t stop thinking about this morning. Those tiny little intimate moments meant a lot to him. He made the decision that he’d make a move soon. Maybe even today.

Throwing on a cropped tee, some high-waisted jean shorts, and some vans, you walked out to see JJ ready to go, lying on the bed. “Something on your mind?” you asked, sitting at the end of the bed, next to his stretched out form. “A little, but it’s chill.” JJ said, sitting up so he was next to you, shoulders touching. “Well, what’s up? You helped me last night, my turn to help you out.” You said. “I don’t know, I just kinda have a huge crush on this one girl.” JJ said, completely in love.

You felt your heart sink into your stomach. You thought that you two had something. Something that made you blush when his fingers traced your skin, something that made you crave his attention. Guess he didn’t feel the same. Nonetheless he was still your friend, so you would do anything to help him out. “Wanna talk about her?” You asked as casually as you could, trying not to show your hurt. “She’s gorgeous. So sweet and caring, always willing to help others out. Not only is she beautiful, she’s also hot as hell. I mean, damn, she is smokin’.” JJ said. “What else?” You continued. “You just don’t get it, do you?” JJ stood up, chuckling. You stood up next to him, confused.

“I don’t know what you mean-” You were cut off by JJ’s lips on yours. You sank into the kiss, throwing your arms around his neck and his falling to your waist and pulling you impossibly closer. The kiss was soft and gentle, yet full of energy and love you held for each other. You only pulled away once you needed air. You nuzzled your face into his neck and he put his chin on the top of your head. Once you caught your breath, you realized what just happened.

He shivered as your breath tickled his neck. “You’re adorable, you know that?” He said and you giggled. “I guess you don’t have to pretend in front of your parents anymore, huh?” You looked up at him. “I guess that could go for both of us, huh?” You said. “Sweetheart, I was never pretending.” He kissed you, this time better than the first. He pulled away and said “We have some time to spare before we leave, huh? Wanna watch a movie or something?” You giggled and kissed him for the third time. God, you could get used to this.

“You guys ready?” Your mom opened the door to find you asleep and JJ holding you, still awake. “She is, I just have to wake her up.” JJ said, still looking at you. “Okay, we have time so don’t feel the need to rush.” your mom said. She loved how JJ treated you. She knew he really loved you. Her mind wandered to the night she knew she wanted you two to get together.

You had fallen into a depressive episode. You were asleep in your room and your mom was sitting at the kitchen table. She was exhausted. She wanted to help you, but nothing worked. She missed you, wanted her bubbly daughter back. So she called the only person she hoped could help you. The phone rang twice before he picked up. “Good evening Mrs. Y/L/N, is everything okay?” JJ’s voice carried through the phone. “Hey JJ, I have a favor to ask. I know you and Y/N aren’t really friends, but she really needs your help right now. I don’t know how tell you, how early can you get here?” Your mom pleaded through the phone. “I’ll be there in 5.”

JJ sped to your house. He’d never admit it, but he cared about you a lot and had definitely developed a crush on you after working for your dad for so long. Of course, your mother knew this. After an encounter with his father, he’d always come to your mother. He didn’t know why he trusted her so much, but he felt like his secrets were safe with her. And they were, not even you or your father heard of his visits.

He knocked on the door and your mom answered merely seconds later. “Is she okay? She’s not hurt, is she?” JJ asked frantically. “Well, not physically I hope. She’s having an episode, it’s really bad JJ.” Your mother said, holding back tears. He wrapped her in a comforting hug. After a moment, she pulled away and pointed towards your room.

JJ quietly walked towards your room and gently knocked on the door. No answer. He quietly walked in. You weren’t there. He heard something clink lightly on the floor. “Y/N, are you in there? It’s JJ.” He heard a muffled sob and immediately burst in, not expecting what he was about to see. You were on the floor, blood trickling down your arm and a razor in your hand.

You hadn’t noticed him moving in front of you, too busy focusing on the slits in your arm. He firmly but carefully held your arm.“I’m sorry, I’m not gonna let you do that.” he grabbed the razor and threw it in the trash. You tried to reach for it, but JJ cupped your cheeks with his calloused hands and looked deeply into your eyes. “I’m so sorry you think of yourself this way. I want to help, what can I do?” He asked, wiping your tears as he went. You stayed quiet. “How many hours has it been since you’ve eaten?” He asked softly. You looked so delicate, he was afraid you’d break if he spoke any louder.

He gestured for you to hold a number on your hands. You raised all 10 fingers and then 2, signaling 12 hours. “Okay, I’m gonna get you something to eat. Can you walk or do you want me to carry you down? I’m not comfortable leaving you here alone.” You held up your arms and he situated you so you were on his back, piggyback style. He was gentle and caring with you, making sure you were comfortable. He had sent your mother to bed, knowing she was tired and assured her he’d take care of you. He set you down on a stool and started looking at food options. “Okay. So our options right now are cereal, pizza, grilled cheese, or soup. What’re you feeling?” He looked to you. “Soup, please.” You looked up at JJ with weak eyes and it took everything in him to not break and pull you into his arms and never let go. No, he had to be strong for you.

He told you to go sit down in the living room and he’d be there in a minute. He pulled the can of chicken soup off the shelf and poured it in the pot. He then got a blanket, some movies, and some pretzels and shoved those in a backpack so he didn’t have to make extra trips. He grabbed the bowls of soup and walked out to the living room. He set the bowls of soup on the coffee table for a minute and opened his backpack. “Okay, so I know I can’t cure your depression. I know this won’t just be fixed with a hug and some food. But I wanna be able to help you. So every night this week, I’m gonna come over, check on you, make some food, and we can watch a movie. I’m gonna keep doing that until I know you’re okay. Sound good?” You nodded and he pulled out the blanket, pretzels, and movie options.

New York was a BIG city. You knew this, of course. But JJ had never traveled outside of the outer banks. So when you stepped out of that hotel, he saw just how big the city was. Your parents walked ahead of you and you and JJ stayed behind, holding hands and talking.

“So this morning, we’re hanging out in Times Square, which is basically the heart of New York city. On our way there, a lot of people will bump in to you. Don’t get heated, they don’t mean it, it’s just very crowded here.” He nodded and you squeezed his hand. “Second: don’t give any money to people on the side of the road, not all of them need it. I know it seems cruel, and it feels that way too. It’s just that there’s so many scammers out there that it’d be better to donate to a charity that funds housing for those people. Okay?” “Yeah, that makes more sense once you add in the charity part.” He said, following along.

“Three: you aren’t paying for anything here because 1. prices are really high in New York City and 2. I won’t let you and I don’t think my parents will either so that’s final. And don’t feel bad, I’m doing it because I care about you. And four, walk fast. There’s no time for slow pokes in New York and within 2 minutes, you’ll be a mile behind us. I have my phone, and the streets are numbered so if you do get lost, text me what streets you’re on, the corner signs should tell you. Like right now...” You pointed to the corner signs. “Let’s say you’re at 24th East and 5th South. I’ll then text you where we are and we won’t move. So let’s say we’re at 35th East and 6th South. so you’d go 11 streets east, use the compass on your phone, and one south. I’ll stay on the phone with you the whole time. But I doubt that will happen.” You held up your linked hands. “If we stay like this.” He smiles. “Good thing I like holding your hand.” He kisses the back of your hand and you kept walking.

“Tonight, we’re going to see a Broadway show. This is a musical theatre show called Hamilton.” He nodded. “I’ve seen that on Disney Plus! Kie pays for it. It’s my favorite!” He said. “I love musical theatre, though I haven’t seen it in a while. Since there’s no theatre here, I sometimes pay off the people who do outdoor movie nights to play a musical movie.” JJ says. You squeeze his hand and say “Well, you’ll enjoy this so much better.” He beamed.

You were tired from the long day, but you have to admit, it was probably the best night of your life. JJ collapsed on the bed, still beaming. You opened your bag from the disney store to toss him his blue stitch plushie (his favorite disney character) and you grabbed your matching pink one. You then grabbed your playbills, both signed by the cast, and set them on the side table next to your bed. “That was the most fun I think I’ve ever had.” He said and you giggled. “Too bad we only stayed here for a weekend.” You said. “Hey quick question.” “I’m listening” he said. “Okay so I know this sounds dumb but, what are we? Like I think I know but I just want to clarify with you.” He sat up. “Well, I never really asked but here goes. Do you want to be with me?” He asked. “Yes, yes please!” You said excitedly. He pulled you in for a kiss and your legs wrapped around his waist. Nothing sexual about it, just more comfortable. You were in love with JJ Maybank. And you couldn’t be more ecstatic!

[thatsamericano]

Budgetary Details For This Plot

I’ve decided that the FrUKSpa Christmas budget for the oldest kids (Matthew, Alfred, and Savino) was $2000 each, which they considered a nice round number and a reasonable amount. They’re wealthy, so they’re used to spending way more money than most people, but they wanted to put a limit on 16-year-olds who are playing around with debit cards for the first time and have to get Christmas gifts for seven people. They had a smaller amount of money they gave to Feliciano, and a smaller amount than that for Marcello (without the debit cards being an issue for either of them, of course).

I want Alfred and Savino to have spent an equivalent amount on each other, so back in September, Alfred bought approximately $500 worth of textbooks (because he was trying to buy in three different areas, and was drawn to some huge hardcover textbooks and some smaller paperbacks he thought would would be interesting). He nearly, but not completely, drained his checking account and FrUK were like WTF because Alfred hadn’t made a big, sudden purchase like this before. They talk to him about this, and Alfred says it was a Christmas present for Matthew. They hadn’t expected him to be thinking about Christmas so early and sometimes their family did spend more extravagantly than they could this year because they’re now buying for four additional people, so they forgive the mistake their teen son made only two months after getting a debit card. They explain the Christmas budget to him and say that now the budget will be $1500, so he will have to spend carefully and his presents for everyone else will be much smaller than they could’ve been before.

Savino bought his nearly $500 telescope for Alfred after Antonio explained the budget to him (which happened sometime in November, because I do talk about the kids doing Black Friday/very early December shopping). At this point, Alfred and Savino may or may not have been in a relationship, but that doesn’t matter for the background I’m giving here. Antonio talks to Savino about this, because Antonio is a very laidback guy, but Savino spent a quarter of his Christmas budget on one person when he has to buy things for six other people. Savino gives a very convincing explanation about this being an extremely good telescope for this price point and how he researched it extensively before he made this purchase (all of this is true). Antonio is like, okay, it’s fine you bought this really expensive present for Alfred this year, but make sure you have enough to get other people something without having to go so cheap it looks insulting (and in Savino’s case, he planned to get something for his grandfather, which Alfred couldn’t do, so his presents for the rest of the FrUKSpa plus kids group were a bit smaller-- around $200 rather than $250-ish).

By the time they get to Rome, both of them have maxed out their Christmas budgets, but they do have more walking around money than most 16-year-olds, especially since their parents wanted them to be able to buy a fun souvenir if they wanted (especially Alfred and Matthew, who’ve never been to Italy before). Alfred is able to buy an about $100 present for Mr. Vargas, and each of them spend about $50 to get a joint present for Chiara that is small enough it’s not suspicious (also their money was in cash at the Christmas Market, and Euros obviously). I mentioned them getting souvenirs at the Leonardo da Vinci Experience Museum that are about $77 dollars for Alfred’s and $42 for Savino’s (I’m rounding up), Savino bought a fairly inexpensive scarf for Alfred earlier in the month while Christmas shopping, and Alfred will probably spontaneously Savino a fairly inexpensive hat at the Christmas market. They might have also bought something small for close friends from school before they left for Rome, along with other minor purchases like the things they got at Starbucks at the mall. After Christmas, Alfred and Savino are low on money, but not in immediate danger of going into overdraft, so FrUKSpa aren’t bothered by this. They’re all happy the 16-year-olds (including Matthew) managed to stay within their Christmas budgets and didn’t go crazy buying tons of souvenirs for themselves.

On Christmas, people do notice that Alfred and Savino bought each other expensive presents, especially if one of them unthinkingly says something about it (like Savino looking at all the textbooks and going “Dio, this must have been so expensive.”) Antonio doesn’t really care, and he’s glad it wasn’t too awkward when Alfred got a substantially cheaper gift for Savino than Savino got for him (what he expected to happen). He thinks it’s cute Alfred thinks Savino is talented in so many areas that he picked out all these textbooks for him, and he’s like, “aww, look at this cute mutual friendship.” Matthew and Feliciano are like “okay, you guys went way overboard on each other,” especially since they had a girlfriend and boyfriend who weren’t accounted for in their Christmas budgets and had to plan their purchases more carefully to get them something, but they’re happy with their presents from Alfred and Savino and aren’t mad about it. Nonno Vargas is flattered that Alfred (along with the rest of the FACE Family) got him something at all, and he remembers going nuts with Sofia on present giving occasions sometimes, especially at the beginning of their relationship. (But I think the reason Sofia’s family weren’t happy with the idea of them being together at first was because Augusto was from a poorer family, so the dollar amounts were much smaller than I’m talking about here). Chiara is surprised Alfred helped pay for a present for her, and Savino usually gives her fairly small gifts for Christmas anyway since I don’t think he gets something for each of his twenty cousins and wouldn’t want to make that too obvious with a huge price tag for Chiara’s gift. They understand Chiara and Savino are close, so it’s okay if she gets a little Christmas present from him, but not if it’s some huge thing like he got for Alfred.

For maximum drama points, Marcello is stewing about Romerica after he figures out they must be doing NSFT things together, and he gets pissed when he sees their Christmas presents to each other. I don’t think he’d easily be able to make a price point comparison, but maybe he looks up Alfred’s telescope online and sees that it’s nearly $500 compared to his approximately $200 present from his brother (which to be fair, is still very nice for a nine-year-old and something he would enjoy). The textbooks would be harder for him to figure out since there were multiple ones, but maybe he looks up some of the bigger ones and figures out Alfred’s present to Savino is also substantially more expensive than Alfred’s present to him. He puts on a pleasant face for Christmas and the rest of the Rome trip (which maybe lasts a couple of additional days), and then he decides to blackmail them once they get home.

FrUK are very WTF about Alfred’s and Savino’s Christmas presents to each other, but they’re trying to mask it because of the Christmas Eve drama over the hickey I’d planned before. Arthur made Savino very upset the day he spoke to his dead parents and grandma, and they are trying to be nicer to him after what happened. Antonio gives an explanation for the telescope that they don’t totally believe is a friendship thing, but they’re more pissed about Alfred because he lied to them about the textbooks back in September (precisely because he was scared saying it was for Savino’s Christmas present would make his feelings way too obvious). They add the Christmas presents to their mental rolodex file of “Alfred and Savino are obviously fucking,” but probably don’t say anything.

After Christmas, Alfred and Savino are in no position to purchase a Vespa, or even a kiddie version of one. If Marcello insists on a real Vespa his brother drives for him, they try to do some quick research to figure out if Savino can even drive a Vespa right now or if he needs a special license and what models are allowed for that. Marcello is mostly about going vroom vroom on a Vespa, so I don’t think he’s looking too closely at the models and would be happy with one that’s not hyper expensive if his brother could actually drive him around on it (because according to whatever state laws I’m basing this on, Savino might need special licenses for some of the higher horsepower models but not the lower ones). Marcello might want one that’s a specific color or similar to one some cousin has, and Romerica are like “okay, sure” even if it costs more because they’re desperate to make this kid happy. At minimum, they’re looking at about a $4000 purchase which is both their Christmas budgets for the entire holiday combined, and they have to dip into their savings accounts that they had access to (I’ll try to research this so it’s not completely stupid plotwise for the fic) but that their parents told them not to touch until they turned 18 because they were specifically for their adult/college life. They don’t drain them, but they each take about $2000 out (possibly after cleaning out their checking accounts completely), and it’s very suspicious.

FrUKSpa are irritated by this immensely. Savino probably mentioned wanting to get a Vespa someday to Antonio before, but he thought Savino would wait until he was 18 or ask for that as his high school graduation gift. If he had to get a Vespa now, he could have tried asking FrUKSpa before this holiday they all just celebrated that involved buying gifts for each other. It might have been something they decided not to get him because it’s too expensive, but it’s weird as fuck that he did this right after getting gifts from everyone he seemed to appreciate. He could have asked for this when he turned 16, instead of/in addition to the car Antonio thought would make it more convenient for Savino to get around. Antonio may not have bought him a Vespa then, but it would have been a lot more normal for Savino to ask back then or before Christmas.

Alfred is the one who they’re most suspicious of, even Antonio. Antonio is able to brush off $500 of textbooks for Christmas (even if FrUK tell him the precise dollar amount and that Alfred lied about it back in September), but he can’t brush off Alfred paying $2000 to help pay for a Vespa that’s not even his. It looks like Alfred keeps getting these ridiculously extravagant gifts for Savino, and they’re all like WTF is going on (FrUK highly suspect, and at this point Antonio is beginning to as well). By contrast, Savino possibly pressured his stepbrother into helping him get a Vespa and made both of them dip into their savings accounts to make this sudden unnecessary purchase, so he needs to be confronted on his spending habits too, but it’s a different issue (and FrUK are especially pissed at him if they think he’s pressuring Alfred financially). Privately, they may decide that FrUK should confront Alfred on his behavior without Antonio since they’re his parents and since Alfred has made it abundantly clear he doesn’t think of Antonio in any kind of family way and will be very disrespectful if Antonio tries to tell him not to be an idiot with money. FrUK really want to confront Savino about the Vespa and possibly manipulating Alfred to get it, but maybe they’re willing to let Antonio talk to his own kid about this and have similar reasons for suspecting Savino would totally disrespect them if they tried to confront him about his spending habits.

[chilling-seavey]

Anything But Mine - Daniel’s Important Purchase

A/N Daniel had always second guessed almost everything in the past, but now, at only twenty-one years old, there’s nothing he’s more sure of than wanting to marry the love of his life.

Daniel stood in front of the glass case, biting nervously on his bottom lip as he scanned the sparkling contents, the small LED lights making each tiny stone glint and shimmer impressively. He tapped his fingers anxiously on the metal trim of the case and tried to find a price tag on any of the items.

“Can I help you find something?”

The voice startled Daniel a little and he looked up wide-eyed at the older lady behind the counter.

“Uhm,” he swallowed nervously, glancing back into the glass case, “Yes. Please. I’m…I’m looking for an engagement ring.”

“How lovely. Do you have a style in mind?”

“No…I don’t know.” Daniel shook his head.

“That’s alright. We can figure that out together. What about a budget?”

Daniel took a shaking breath and nodded, sliding his backpack off his shoulder and bent down to pull out his old music theory textbook from first year. He set it on the counter and opened the front to reveal a messy pile of bills. He had been saving for a few months, sneaking all his tips from work or stray bills from playing a few songs on city blocks into his old textbook in perfect secrecy. 

He wanted to propose in Vancouver so he only had a few months to save as much as he possibly could to buy the most perfect ring for her; the girl who was raised in the ultimate luxury and whom he thought deserved the absolute world. He had it all planned out too: he would drive her up to his favourite hiking spot in the city at sunset and take her down to the lookout where you felt like you were at the top of the world and he would ask her to marry him right there. In picture perfect romance. But December was approaching quickly and Daniel needed to turn in his savings for a ring as soon as possible otherwise he would need a whole new plan.

To say he was stressing himself to make this perfect was an understatement.

The lady at the jewelry store eyed his open textbook with raised eyebrows and she sent him the calmest smile she could muster. This was a first for her.

“Okay, how much is all of that?” she asked.

“$385.” Daniel mumbled.

“$385? Okay.”

“I don’t know how much they cost and…this is all I have. I’ve been saving since, like, April but I need to buy one today.”

“That’s okay. We have plenty of options in your price range. Follow me over here.”

Daniel shut the textbook, sandwiching the bills tightly away as he slid it back in his backpack and zipped it up before rushing after the lady to another glass case across the store. His hand held tightly onto the strap of his backpack as he watched her slide out the tray and set the array of rings on the top.

“All of these are our sterling silver engagement rings, mostly all under $300.”

Daniel skimmed the display, pursing his lips in thought and tapping his fingers against the edge of the velvet tray. There were a few larger ones but they looked cheap and clunky or had black diamonds which Daniel thought was incredibly weird. He shifted nervously under the expectant stare of the lady.

“We can keep looking.” she offered.

Daniel sighed in relief, “Yes, please.”

She set the tray back in the case and moved them over to the next one, “These are a bit pricier but have more carats on the sterling silver bands.”

Daniel scanned the options but his eye caught on something in the next case over like it was fate. He leaned over a little to get a better look out of the sparkling glare of the LEDs that reflected off it, being met with a small simple diamond ring.

“What about that one?” Daniel asked, pointing carefully to it, glancing up at the lady with nervousness all over his face.

“The small one there?” the lady pulled open the case and lifted off the individual velvet stand it was tucked onto.

“Yeah.” Daniel breathed, staring at it like it was just what he had pictured. He licked his lips nervously as he asked the question he was almost too scared to ask, “How much is it?”

“This one is .23 carat, the middle stone of the three being .15 carat alone, on a 10k white gold polished band. It’s $545.”

Daniel let out a deep sigh, hanging his head forward in disappointment as if the number physically hurt him. He pouted slightly, looking back up at it sitting in front of him on the glass countertop, sitting pretty on the black velvet stand. He could almost see it on her finger, feeling as if he could see it sparkle on her hand as she smiled.

“I need this one.” Daniel breathed. “Is it on sale? Or is there, like, a coupon?”

“I can check.”  the lady couldn’t help but smile to herself at the young man’s obvious determination to the woman he wanted to marry, and she turned to the computer near by to check for any promotions.

Daniel literally held his hands together and rested them against his face and prayed for it to be at least down to $400, swearing to God to never do anything wrong in his life ever again if he got this one thing the way he wanted it-

“It’s your lucky day. It’s on Christmas special. 30% for a total of $380.”

“$380?” Daniel gaped. “That’s less than…I have more saved than that.”

“You do.” the lady chuckled. “Is this the one you want then?”

“Oh my gosh.” Daniel whispered, biting back a grin, “Yeah. Yeah, I’ll get this one.”

“Alright! Do you have her ring size?”

“I brought another.” Daniel reached into the pocket of his jeans and pulled out one of Florence’s old rings that he snuck out of the back of her jewelry box.

The lady held out her hand for it and when he passed it to her she took a quick look, “About a 7. Give me one second.”

She handed him back the ring and then took the new one from the display to the back.

Daniel bit back his nervous but excited grin, pulling his phone from his pocket to see a few messages from Florence. He had told her he was working later at the studio so she wasn’t suspicious to where he was running off to after class, exam season approaching making his lie much more believable. He leaned against the case and opened her messages, finding a video of Penelope walking messily across the living room rug to Florence’s outstretched hand. The sixteen-month-old was a late bloomer so she was still wobbly on her feet but her cheesy grin brought a smile to Daniel’s face as he watched the video on low volume in the store. Penelope grabbed onto Florence’s hand to steady herself as she almost fell forward, earning plentiful praise from her mother. Daniel’s eyes lingered on Florence’s empty left hand that their daughter clung onto. He couldn’t wait to just put a ring on it already.

“Is she yours?”

The lady’s voice made him startle again and Daniel looked over at her as she was staring at the video on his phone screen, “Yeah.”

“She’s so cute.”

“Thanks.” Daniel grinned, taking one last look at the video before sliding his phone back in his pocket.

“So, we have it all here.” the lady opened the black velvet box to reveal the small diamond ring, the light from the store sparkling off the polished stones and shiny band.

“It’s perfect.” Daniel smiled and she rang it up into the cash register.

He paid for it with the messy stack of bills, with $5 left over to slide in his pocket, and he was passed over the small bag and his receipt.

“And you’re all set. No refunds after 30 days, only store credit, and if you fill out the survey on the back of the receipt you can be entered for a chance to win a $100 gift certificate.”

Daniel thanked her honestly before heading out of the store. He tried to ignore the nervousness that her statement about returns set on his conscience, suddenly wondering if Florence even wanted to marry him. He let his brain stew for the amount of time it took him to roll of the bag and slip it in to the bottom of his backpack before heading for the subway to go home, pushing any negative thoughts out of his mind.

He called Florence on his way to the station to say he was coming home, stopping in his tracks when he passed the florist. The dial tone rang steadily against his ear as he smiled to himself and went inside, quickly purchasing a single red rose with the remaining $5 in his pocket. He only smiled wider as Florence answered the phone.

“Hey, baby,” Daniel replied, rose in his free hand as he leaned back against the metal doors to step out of the mall and into the winter weather of the busy city, “Yeah, I’m coming home now. I bought you a little surprise…”

[mystical-flute]

Uncharted Waters (YGOxOne Piece Crossover)

Also on AO3 || Buy me a ko-fi?

The worlds "Earth" and "Eturn" used to be united, until a mysterious force ripped them apart eight-hundred years ago. Now, the Veil between worlds is starting to crack, just as the Shadow Games return to Earth. Reika Muto, an undercover operative in Eturn and owner of the Millennium Bracelet, is caught between two worlds.

“Did you really think that a rookie like you could really stop Baroque Works?” Mr. 3 asked with a sneer, staring down at Reika with contempt in his eyes. “You pirates should have just left well enough alone, don’t you understand that? Then your poor body wouldn’t be in the state it's in!”

As if to emphasize, he wiggled the dagger that had been stuck in her, causing her to cry out in pain again.

“But don’t worry, you’re going to be at peace soon enough,” he continued, the wax slowly climbing up her foot.

Reika shifted her outstretched arm, desperately grasping for one of the batons just outside her grip. “I’m not dying here,” she choked out.

“Aren’t you? You’re out of moves! Out of options, and out of time.”

Her pinky grasped the baton, sliding it into her palm as his back turned away, keeping an eye out for any of her allies.

“Hey Mr. 3, do you know what’s scarier than a little shock?” she questioned.

“Hm? What do you - ”

“Jupiter’s Storm!” she called out, a bolt of lightning shooting from the baton and straight onto the Baroque Works Officer.

He slumped to the ground, unmoving.

“It came from this way!”

“It sounded like Sakura!”

Sakura. Stupid undercover names. But it was to protect her from the Marines, so she dealt with it.

She slowly sat up, knocking some of the wax off her foot just as two familiar shadows appeared in the alley.

“Chopper! Usopp!”

Chopper rushed forward with his medical kit. “What did he do to you?!”

“He picked up a dagger from one of his minions and tried to distract me before turning me to wax,” she grunted, looking at Usopp, who was almost totally covered in bandages. “I’m in better shape than you though, Usopp.”

“Nothing can keep the great Captain Usopp down!” Usopp replied, puffing out his chest before going into a coughing fit.

“Uh-huh. Where are the others? Are they okay? What about our captain?”

Chopper tied the last of the bandages to her shoulder. “This is all I can do for now. Luffy went to go hunt down Crocodile, but the others are waiting at the end of the alley!”

“Reika?”

“I’m okay, Azila. I promise.”

She rose to her feet. “Let’s go.”

All they needed to do was stop a civil war and disarm a bomb.

Get Princess Vivi to the top of the clock tower… watch in horror as Pell, the captain of the Alabasta guards, flew the bomb up to the sky. Watch it explode, knocking everyone off their feet. Watch as the fighting resumed despite the horror that just took place.

Be… unable to stop them. Marine and pirate alike stood in utter disbelief as VIvi’s cries for peace went unheard until rain, precious, life-giving rain, that had been denied Alabasta for three long years thanks to Crocodile’s manipulations, finally began to fall.

“I don’t remember much of what happened after that,” she admitted, days later. “We passed out in an alley after telling Vivi to go be with her father and her people. When I woke up, we’d been out for almost a full day.”

“So to recap, you’re telling me a rookie pirate with a thirty million berry bounty defeated one of the Seven Warlords?” Commander Kenji Hashimoto questioned, squinting at her from his screen.

Reika rolled her eyes. “Do you really think I would lie about a report like this?”

“I know you’d never lie to me, Reika,” Kenji said with a heavy sigh. “Have you spoken with your family?”

Reika Muto nodded slowly. “I talked to them about a week ago. I warned them that I’d be unavailable for a while. Said I was going off the grid for a desert excavation for an internship.”

It wasn’t a complete lie, technically. Alabasta was a desert, she did see ancient sites, and she never would have been able to contact her family with how chaotic the fight against Crocodile was.

Alabasta just wasn’t anywhere in the United States… or on Earth.

“I spoke to your aunt the other day. They don’t seem suspicious about your whereabouts,” Kenji explained.

“Good,” Reika said, glancing at her watch. “I should head back to the palace. The others are going to start wondering what took me so long. Agent Sakura signing out.”

The name still felt weird in her ears, but she was a scout, and the best scouts had disguises, after all.

“Thank you for letting me use your equipment,” she said to the old woman in the next room. “My commander was pleased to hear from me.”

“Of course. It must be hard to get a chance to contact them while you’re at sea,” Megumi replied with a smile. “Now, I’ve added a few little trinkets to your bag as a thank you for helping me arrange my furniture.”

Reika grinned as she grabbed her things, tucking her cell phone out of sight after sending a quick text to her boyfriend. “Of course. Thank you. It was good to speak with you.”

The walk back to the palace was swift, nod and say hello to the citizens who were diligently working to rebuild their city, duck when it came to Marines, and keep gaze steady when passing the ones that had stationed themselves on the palace steps, blocked by the royal guard, who let her through without issue.

“There you are, Reika! What did that old lady want, anyway?” Usopp asked with a small frown when she entered the room they’d bunked down at.

“Oh - nothing major. She just said I reminded her of her granddaughter and asked for help arranging some furniture,” she said, waving her hand dismissively as she set her bags on her bed to look over what the woman had given her.

“So… did she give you any cash as a thanks?” Nami questioned. If it were possible, Reika was sure Nami’s eyes would be money signs all the time.

Reika rolled her eyes and tossed over a small sack of coins, hearing Nami’s delighted ‘hah!’.

“Luffy’s still out of it, huh?” she asked, glancing over at the bed where their captain lay fast asleep.

“His fever broke, which is good, but otherwise no, nothing,” Chopper replied with a sigh.

Reika smiled. “Hey, don’t be so glum. You’re going to be the world’s best doctor, remember? I’m sure he’ll wake up -”

Her head throbbed.

The Shadow Games are coming…

“Reika?”

She snapped her head back up, looking at the worried crew in front of her. “Sorry, I’m fine. My head just hurt for a second. I’m just going to go splash some water on my face.”

“You sure?”

“Absolutely!”

Luffy chose that moment to wake up, creating the perfect distraction as she ducked out of the room and took her phone out of her pocket, seeing an incoming call and feeling her stomach sink.

“Okay okay okay!” she grumbled to it, moving into an empty bathroom before putting it to her ear. “Hello?”

“Oh thank goodness I got through! Reika, grandpa’s hurt!” came her cousin’s frantic voice from the other end. “I was dueling with Pegasus and when it ended all of a sudden grandpa was passed out! We can’t get him to wake up!”

Reika blinked several times, trying to process the information. “Okay - what? Slow down this time.”

She heard Yugi taking deep breaths before he spoke again. “You know how I won against Kaiba a few weeks ago?”

“Yes, of course I do. I had a very… interesting conversation with him that night,” she said, frowning.

“Pegasus somehow found out that I won against him and wanted to find out more about me. But the DVD he sent was a trap - he was on it using his Millennium Item on it. He - he said he took grandpa’s soul and now grandpa won’t wake up!”

She pinched her brows together. “Well, that explains the headache.”

“What do you mean?”

A sigh escaped her. “I got the worst headache a few minutes ago. Heard a voice say something about the Shadow Games? Listen, I can’t really talk right now. I’ll be home as soon as I can. I promise. Call me if anything changes with grandpa.”

“O - okay…”

Reika ended the call and swallowed back the lump in her throat. Why now? Of all the times for this to happen, it had to be while they were celebrating their victory. After she’d clawed her way into the Grand Line to find her parents.

“Dammit all…” she grumbled, switching to her agency communicator. “This is Agent Muto requesting extraction from the Kingdom of Alabasta.”

“Reika? What seems to be the issue?”

“My grandfather’s in a coma. I’m at the palace. Be advised there are Marine ships in the area. The group I’m with plans to cross the desert tonight, so I’ll make sure my tracker is on.”

“Aiko will find you. We’ll get you home safe.”

With her family believing she was studying in California, they needed to match up the amount of time it would take for a cross-continental flight. Thirteen hours ought to do it.

Reika slid to the ground, her head in her hands. She’d finally made it to the sea her parents had gone missing in. She finally had started being able to investigate and now… now she had to leave it all behind.

But her grandfather had raised her, and she knew deep down Domino was where she needed to be.

“Reika! Where’d you go?”

She rose to her feet, swallowed the lump in her throat, quickly splashed some cold water on her face to get rid of the redness that had started forming, and opened the door to find Vivi.

“Sorry Vivi, splashing water on my face did the trick. I feel much better now,” Reika lied with a wide smile. “Did I miss anything?”

“Well, Terracotta said dinner will be ready soon. I’d say she brought an appetizer, but Luffy ate it all, so…”

“I can wait until dinner,” she said with a laugh. She wasn’t very hungry anyway, knowing what was going to happen tonight.

At midnight, the Straw Hat crew packed up their belongings and descended from the palace.

Reika switched on her tracker as soon as they hit the desert. It was only moments before Aiko appeared in a bright flash of light, the pirates tensing immediately.

“Who the hell are you?” Zoro asked, hand already on his sword.

“Zoro, wait! Aiko’s a friend of mine!” she said, eyes wide. “But how did you find me all the way out here?”

“Sheer dumb luck I suppose. You know my powers are still a little scattered,” Aiko said, slipping into the lie with ease. “I’m not here with great news though. Your grandfather’s fallen ill, Reika. The doctors can’t seem to wake him up.”

She let the tears she’d hidden before flow. “What?!”

“What’s wrong? Was it some sort of disease?” Chopper asked with wide eyes.

“Grandpa’s had heart issues for years now.” Reika sniffled. “I knew he shouldn’t have stayed by himself.”

“We’ll help him. Chopper’s the best doctor here!” Nami insisted. “Er, right, Luffy?”

Monkey D. Luffy sat with a contemplative look on his face.

“Where is this island?” he finally asked.

“Oxram Island,” Reika explained. “It’s only a couple days journey from here, but it’s back the way we came, and with the Marine ships around, it’d be too dangerous for you guys to come with me.”

Luffy gave her an uncharacteristically serious look. “I see then. If you feel you need to leave the crew, that’s okay. I understand.”

“You’re sure?” Reika asked, looking at the crew with wide eyes.

“It’s your family and your grandfather’s in trouble. Of course I’m okay with it,” Luffy agreed with a wide grin. “Besides, you can come find us again!”

“Luffy, she has to go back the way we came,” Zoro grumbled. “I don’t know if - ”

“Aiko has the power of the portal-portal fruit. It can help guide me back to you, especially if you guys keep making waves!” Reika said. “Come on, Aiko. You can ride with me back to the ship. I’ll hurry up and pack the rest of my stuff.”

The journey across the desert was long, and they arrived at the Going Merry around three in the morning. She ignored most of the chaos on the deck with the escaped Baroque Works member who called himself a friend, and ducked into the women’s room, haphazardly tossing her things back into her suitcase.

“You sure you’re okay?” Aiko asked.

“I have to be, Aiko. You know what Uncle Takeo and Aunt Kumi will say if I don’t go home,” she replied, slipping a tracking device behind her nightstand so she could find the crew whenever her grandfather recovered. “Let's just get this over with.”

“I guess this is goodbye for now!” she called to the deck, unsure if any of the crew could hear her. “I’ll be back as soon as I can. I promise.”

Aiko summoned a portal (using her technology, not a devil fruit power), and with a deep breath, Reika vanished through the Veil, back to Domino, Japan.

Earth.

“Welcome back, Agent Muto,” Kenji greeted. “I’m just going to need you to go through a health check and we’ll get you home to your family.”

Reika nodded, first making a stop in the changing room, where she rid herself of the Alabastan fashion she’d been wearing, removing the batons and their braces from her arms, revealing the golden bracelet she’d kept hidden during her time in Eturn. She slipped into a pair of shorts and a t-shirt, then reached up to take the clip out of her hair, letting it hang free around her shoulders as the dark brown she’d had faded back into her normal color.

In the med bay, as the doctor took her vitals, she stared at herself in the mirror. It had been days since she’d truly been able to look at herself this way - her natural state. Multicolored hair like her father, warm brown eyes like her mother. The older she got, the more of them she could see herself in them.

It was why she’d been sent to Eturn. Why she’d been on a pirate crew, sailing around that mysterious world and getting into danger. She had a clawing, desperate need to find out why her parents had disappeared in that same world ten years ago.

She winced when Hiro’s fingers found the scar on her shoulder. “Easy there, would you?”

“When did you get this?”

“Four days ago. I jumped in the way of an enemy that had been going after my friend. The assailant ended up driving their dagger into my shoulder before I managed to get them off me,” she explained as Hiro’s fingers traced down it gently.

Hiro frowned. “It’s healing well, but I’m concerned about nerve damage in your shoulder. I’d like you to come back in a couple days so I can run some tests.”

Reika nodded in agreement, hopping off the exam table. “Sure.”

“One more thing before you leave, Agent Muto,” Kenji said, frowning as she passed him on her way toward the elevator. “The Veil is beginning to wane.”

She stared. “Wane? Megumi didn’t mention anything to me about that.”

“It hasn’t spread to all corners of the dimensions yet. Megumi’s superiors may not have informed her,” Kenji explained. “It seems to have started here in Japan, though.”

“Okay, so I’ll keep an eye out. Is it glowing blue like our portals?”

“It is, and worse, it seems to keep pulling people between worlds.”

Her eyes widened. “This could be a disaster. Is there any way to stop it?”

“At this time, it seems the only way to stop it is to close the portals. Each agent has been given a personal transporter for this emergency.”

Reika stared at the device as it was pushed into her hand. “Pretty odd to have one of these here in Domino,” she admitted. “You and Yume are always so strict about not using them unless we’re in danger in Eturn.”

“Things may get dicey here, so be on your guard. We’ve been trying to increase security, but it seems with each ripple we close, another opens. It’s like someone is trying to combine the dimensions,” Kenji sighed. “But I shouldn’t be bothering you with this now. Go home and get some rest. I’ll call you when we’re ready to put you on active duty.”

“Thanks, Mr. Hashimoto,” she murmured, making her way to the private parking lot and finally pulling out into the familiar Domino streets.

Three-thirty in the morning even in the heart of Domino City meant not many people were out and about, but still, it almost felt wrong seeing cars instead of ships. As she drove past the hospital, she squinted at the bright, fluorescent lighting of the parking lot.

Reika’s hands shook against the steering wheel.

Grandpa…

She let out a heavy exhale as she pulled up to the game shop, cutting the engine. In all honesty, she hadn’t even thought about what she might say or do if she ever came back to Domino.

This wasn’t supposed to happen.

The scent of yakitori still hung in the air as she pushed her way into the apartment, closing the door as quietly as she could behind her and glancing around.

It hadn’t changed much in her absence. Not that she expected it to - Domino as a whole, despite being a city, seemed to be stuck in the mundane. They didn’t know about the global espionage agency that used a restaurant as a front. They didn’t know that there was an entire world beyond strange portals.

It was perfectly ordinary.

A yawn escaped her as she opened her bedroom door, dumping her bags by it and pulling out her phone as she flopped onto the bed. There was at least a fifty-fifty chance that her boyfriend would be awake, knowing his tendency to work through the night.

Seto, I’m home. Text me if you have time to meet.

She meant to stay up and check if he got back with her, but the exhaustion of the day finally caught up with her, and she drifted off, not even bothering to get under the covers.

[sunlightdances]

take my hand (when you can’t see the light)

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader Rating: PG-13 for like, 2 swears. Summary: Dean plays the knight in shining armor when you meet him by chance. Turns out you’ll meet him several more times. Everything happens for a reason, right? Author’s Note: This was supposed to be posted on Valentine’s Day, but we all know how I am with deadlines. Have some fluffy Dean to make up for it. Last year’s Valentine’s fic is here, but is unrelated and you don’t need to read that to like this one! Please excuse any tense issues - I changed it back to second person after a read through, so there might be some errors. Please don’t repost my work on any other sites including Wattpad, AO3, or other archiving sites without my permission! I don’t own Dean, Supernatural, or any other related characters. I also don’t own “Forever on Your Side” by Needtobreathe, which I used for the title.

It’s freezing outside, and your car is running on fumes.

You curse yourself for not having the forethought to get gas a few states ago when it was relatively warmer, and it just adds to the irritation buzzing through your veins.

Pulling up next to the last available gas pump, you jump out of the car and swipe your card. The machine beeps, and tells you your card can’t be read. Your stomach drops when you try to think about how much money is left in your account. You swear you had enough to get through this trip.

You swipe again, and this time it says, please see the cashier. “Oh, fuck you,” you groan, and the person on the other side of the pump from you looks up, startled.

“Sorry, not you.” You mutter, and feel your face burning as you quickly turn away and head inside to figure out why your card isn’t working.

Inside, you give some sob story about driving across the country, but the teenager behind the counter clearly doesn’t care. You don’t blame him, but it doesn’t help your situation. That’s until a hand sneaks around you from behind and places a credit card on the counter.

“Put it on this one along with pump eight.” A deep voice says, and you stiffen when you feel a distinctly male presence at your back.

“You don’t have to do that--” You start to say, looking over your shoulder to see the man from outside behind you. He backs up a few steps and you feel like you can breathe again.

“It’s no big deal.” He shrugs.

“I have money,” you blurt, wincing when you realize how defensive and stupid you sound.

The corners of his mouth quirk up in an amused smile. “I’m sure you do. Just think of it as me paying it forward.”

The kid behind the counter has already run the stranger’s card through the machine for both of you, so you have no choice but to stand there awkwardly until he tells you you’re all set.

“Well… thanks.” You say, and turn to head out the door quickly, trying not to prolong this embarrassment more than you have to. You want to get back on the road and this is already a longer pitstop than you planned it being.

Once your car is filled up, you sit back in the driver’s seat and check your phone. Ten unread text messages that you delete without reading, five missed calls, and a notice from your bank that your card has been put on hold due to suspicious activity.

You groan - you never even thought to let the bank know you were taking a trip, you just hauled ass out of town the first minute you could. Didn’t even stop to think of the consequences. You can feel tears welling up in your eyes as you struggle to think what you can do - you have a small amount of cash but not enough to get you where you’re going. The bank is closed by now, so even if you call them you won’t get your card turned back on until the morning.

You have absolutely no idea what to do.

A gentle knock on your window brings you out of your daze, and your eyes meet a pair of bright green ones, twin pools of concern. He gestures for you to roll down the window, and you do, but only halfway. He’s a stranger, after all.

“Are you alright?”

You huff a laugh. “I’m the farthest thing from alright. But I’ll be okay. Thanks again for the gas, by the way.”

He smiles gently. “I know how that goes. And it was nothing, really. Here--” he holds out a to-go cup of coffee, “You look like you might need this more than I do.”

“Thanks…”

“Dean.”

“Thanks, Dean.” You take the coffee from him and when his fingers brush yours briefly, you feel it zip up your arm. So cliche. You sort of hate yourself for thinking about it. “I have to go,” you say quietly.

He clears his throat. “Sure, sure.” He looks down at his feet awkwardly. “Drive safe.”

You watch him go to the other side of the gas pump and get in a sleek, black car. You sigh to yourself before putting your car in drive and hitting the road.

You give kudos to yourself that you only look in your rearview once.

.

.

.

After Dean’s been on the road for a few hours, he realizes he’s following the same route the girl from the gas station is, and he feels like a creep.

You were cute, but he tells himself to stop thinking about you. You’re clearly going through something, and he’s never going to see you again.

Even so, he wonders what you were running from.

Physically shaking his head to stop himself from letting his mind wander, he calls his brother. “Any update?” He asks as soon as Sam gets on the phone.

“No change. How long until you’re here?”

“Six or seven hours if I don’t stop.”

Sam sighs. Dean can tell he’s tired, though he knows his brother will never admit it. “There’s no rush, Dean. We’re just-- waiting. Take a break, get some sleep.”

Dean rolls his eyes. “I’ll see you soon. Call me if anything changes.”

He tosses the phone in the passenger seat after he hangs up and pushes the image of Sam alone at a hospital out of his mind, and pushes it even farther away knowing it’s Jody they’re waiting on, Jody who didn’t even get hurt from a job, but was in a car accident.

Surgery went perfectly, but until she wakes up, they don’t know much else.

It’s a shitty way to spend Valentine’s Day.

He puts it out of his mind the best he can and concentrates on the road. That’s when he notices a familiar car on the side of the road, flashers on.

He frowns. He paid for your gas himself, so he knows you’re not out of gas. Unless something else is wrong with the car. Weighing it for a few seconds, he pulls over behind you, not too close, and tells himself to stop overthinking it before he gets out.

Her door is already open by the time he gets close, and he sends you a small smile when you notice him.

“I just want you to know I’m not following you,” he says, and then quickly continues, “and I know that’s exactly what someone following you would say.”

You laugh, but it’s a little watery. “You seem to show up right when I need help, though.”

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. I-- the car is fine. I just needed to stop for a few minutes.”

He sees the tear tracks on your cheeks but doesn’t say anything, doesn’t want to do anything to make you more upset.

“Valentine’s Day really blows.” You say finally, and Dean laughs, your words echoing his own thoughts.

“Definitely.” Dean opens his mouth to keep talking but his phone rings, shattering the moment. “Sorry, hang on--” He digs his phone out of his pocket, seeing Sam’s name flashing on the screen. “Yeah?”

“She’s awake. Going to pull through.”

The relief Dean feels is physical. He lets out a sigh and the tension seeps off him. “Good. That’s-- kick ass, dude. Okay. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

He hangs up and looks back to you, an apology on his face.

“I have to go. If you’re okay…”

“I’ll be fine, Dean. Thanks again.” You say, a little sad maybe, but the sorrow that was on your face when he first saw you on the side of the road isn’t there anymore. You tell him your name, “-- by the way, just in case we run into each other again,” and then with a wink, you’re back in your car.

Dean is a little awestruck, but with another laugh to himself shaking his head, he gets back in the Impala and continues on, finding himself wishing the passenger seat wasn’t empty.

.

.

.

You make it across the state again before you stop for food. Only a bit of cash left, you decide to go to the closest grocery store and get something from the ready-to-go section instead of going the fast food route.

You feel a little better. You’re still getting texts and ignoring calls from your now ex-boyfriend, but you’re finding it easier and easier to press the reject button every time. Your heart doesn’t hurt quite as much.

Digging through your wallet for cash as you walk through the doors of the store, you run right into a solid mass of a person, an oof leaving your mouth as you regain your balance.

A rough voice says your name, and panic rushes through you before you realize who it is.

“Dean?”

“Now who’s stalking who?” He asks, tone light, corners of his mouth twitching.

“This is getting a little weird, dude.”

“You’re telling me,” he agrees, and your eyes shift to the flowers in his hand.

For some reason you feel a little bitter about it. It’s Valentine’s Day. Of course he’s buying flowers for someone. A guy who looks like that? Who buys strangers coffee and gas? Definitely not single.

“Late gift pickup?” You ask, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible.

He scratches the back of his neck with his free hand, “For a friend, yeah. She was in an accident. On my way to see her.”

“Oh,” you feel like a total jerk. “Sorry to hear that.”

“She’s going to be okay. But thank you.”

An awkward silence settles over the two of you, but this time it’s your phone that breaks the silence. “Oh, for fuck’s sake--” you say, pulling your phone out just to turn it off. You’re so tired of this.

“Someone special?” He asks, wry, and feels relieved when you laugh, even though it’s more distressed than anything else.

“Unfortunately.” You don’t know why, but you feel like telling him everything. You didn’t tell anyone before you left except your roommate, so she wouldn’t think you were murdered or something. “Came to my boyfriend’s to surprise him for Valentine’s. Turns out he found someone else to spend the day with.”

Dean winces. “What a dick.”

“I packed up pretty much everything I owned and just… left. I moved to that town because of him. I had my job because of him. I just had to get out of there.” You swallow hard, feeling like you’re going to cry again. “I have no idea where I’m going to go and my card got turned off. I’ve got a hundred dollars to my name.” You sigh, meeting his eyes. “Sorry - you have a friend literally in the hospital. I shouldn’t be complaining.”

Dean’s eyes are so intense as he takes in what you’ve told him. You wonder if he knows he’s got this effect on people.

“Come with me.” He says. He too, looks a little surprised.

“What?”

“You can stay with me. Since you don’t have anywhere else to go. I just have to stop at the hospital first, if you don’t mind going with me--” He shakes his head, “Sorry, I-- we don’t know each other. But I have a house, a big house, and there’s extra room if you need it. At least until you’ve got some cash again.”

You hesitate, of course - he’s a stranger. But-- something tells you that you can trust him, and you have no other options, really.

“Okay.”

Dean smiles. “Okay.”

.

.

.

This is probably, easily, one of the stupidest things Dean has ever done.

Sam is going to give him so much shit, but as he looks in his rearview to check that you’re still behind him, he can’t help but smile when you give him a little wave.

You pull into the parking space next to him at the hospital, and he gestures for you to follow him through the large double doors at the entrance.

Inside, he finds the room number Sam sent him, and knocks lightly on the door when he gets there.

“Dean,” Jody says quietly from the bed, her voice a little rough.

“Hi,” He says, grinning at her. “Glad to see you’re awake.”

“Sam said you drove all night to get here.”

“Was finishing up--” He stops, remembering your presence at his back, “-- a job. Otherwise I would have been here sooner.”

Sam clears his throat. “Got anything else you want to share?”

You snicker, and Dean bites back his smile. God, what is it about you that makes him feel lighter than he has in years?

“Hi,” you say softly, introducing yourself.

“She needs somewhere to stay for a few days.” Dean says, hoping his tone is firm enough that he’s not going to get shit about this from his brother.

After some small talk and a few pointed looks from Jody, she announces that she’s tired and that Sam and Dean should go get some rest. Dean turns to you.

“I’ll meet you in the parking lot,” you say, “too many hours on the road.”

Dean is the last one to lean in and give Jody a hug, and after a second’s hesitation, he grabs a single flower out of the bouquet he got her.

“Smart guy,” Jody whispers, and Dean rolls his eyes playfully.

.

.

.

You can’t believe this place.

This is where Dean lives. With his brother. This giant, amazing place.

You have a thousand questions, and Dean promised he’d answer a few, but more than anything you need to take a nap.

You do, and when you wake up, there’s a single red rose on the table by your bed.

Happy Valentine’s Day - DW

A giddy, schoolgirl-like feeling comes over you as you read the note, and you find yourself feeling excited and hopeful for the first time since you left your house in a heartbroken daze. It feels like years ago.

When you find your way to the kitchen and see Dean and his brother there waiting for you, near identical smiles on their faces, you start to think you could get used to this.

The unknown doesn’t feel as scary as it did yesterday.

[jadedragoness]

Review: Peace Talks

First Read Through Reaction

Now staring off, knowing that the book was essentially part one of two did mean that I went in expecting that there would be plot lines that wouldn’t be resolved. I did NOT expect that nearly zero of the plot lines would be resolved, at all. Yikes. Now, I’m not saying I didn’t enjoy it. I did. But it felt like there were 50 to 60 pages missing that should have been in the story to at least wrap up minor plot lines before heading into ‘Battle Ground’.

Warning: Full of Spoilers

Such the arrival of the Outsiders those Cornerhounds. Um… Outsiders and at no point that Harry wonder why in the hell they were called to Chicago? Or why they were targeting him and Ebenezer. Seriously, unless the author totally forgot we know that Outsiders can only be called by mortals. So human wizards brought them. So was it someone in the ‘Black Council’ or was it the Formor, since we know from previous stories that they grab humans and mind-whammy them and also modify them. And we know that they’ve been pretty focused on grabbing minor practioners for a couple of years now.

Hell, even just knowing why Thomas attacked the svartalf King would have been good to know in the book even if we don’t find out who it was yet.

That being said lets start of with things I didn’t like.

Thing Which I Wasn’t All that Pleased About:

1. Butters in that threesome relationship.

Now, let me explain, it’s not because its a poly relationship. I don’t even twitch over how Justine and Thomas include others in the sexual part of their relationship. It’s because I kept wondering if Marci was even into dudes. As far as I knew she was only into girls. And now she’s suddenly bi?

What the hell?

I think my reaction has a lot to do with how skewed the sexual orientation gradient in shown among Named characters. You have straight men. Straight women. Bi women who are shown to be blatantly into men and women…and that’s it, now.

No lesbian women with zero interest in men. No bi men. No gay men. No asexual characters. No trans characters. No gender fluid people.

I know that this due to the author’s eye and while it hasn’t irritated me much in the past as we keep getting more and more books with more newly introduced characters the lack is becoming more and more glaring to me. Especially, as I have drifted into reading other series that manage to be way more inclusive about this sort of thing in great and amazing ways *sighs happily over Rivers of London series*. And I don’t just mean in passing with random nameless scenery people that never talk which have popped up in the Dresden Files but with actual characters that have names, dialogue and contribute to the series.

So it really, really annoys me that Marci went from being the only lesbian who is a named character to joining the horde of bi women in the DF verse.

Okay, so its not really a Butters issue to much as a grumble about the spectrum of gender and sexually needing better representation.

*grumbles* Step up your game, Butcher.

I will add that I’m head-canoning that actually the relationship here is Butters with Andi, Andi with Butter and Marci, and Marci with Andi. That pretty much with Butters running around being the new Knight Andi didn’t like how her boyfriend wasn’t paying attention and gave Butters the ultimatum of letting Marci in as Andi’s girlfriend or they broke up.

… yeah, I’m totally liking that spin way, way better.

2. That Marcone took forever to show up! ARGH! I love him ok.

Considering how early he was name dropped in the story the amount of time it took him to show up… Jim Butcher is a damn Marcone-tease. *glares hotly in author’s direction*

3. I don’t like it that Murphy is so hurt. I don’t hate it. I think I’m just uneasy about the future implications.

Having reread the entire series before reading ‘Peace Talks’ I fully expected some lingering injury but not to that level. I’m actually worried about her chances of surviving any upcoming battle, and not just in Battle Ground. There’s even more danger coming down the pipeline in future books and she won’t let herself stay ‘safe’ when she could be watching Harry’s back… so its a worrying problem.

Now if she died I have no doubt that her being recruited to be a Valkerie is an option. But then I remembered how those warrior women go out into the world with ‘clients’ and of the two we’ve seen they’ve been attached to ‘monsters’ aka Lara and Marcone.

Unless, the payment isn’t cash and she can be attached to Harry. *hums in thought*

But then I have to wonder how much Murphy would accept that role. She’s also a pretty devout Catholic as this book reminded us so that is also something that would make her say no to the offer.

4. That the younger Wardens who had so looked up to Harry being so damned suspicious… ow. That hurt. I may have teared up and sniffled into a tissue thinking about it. And then sobbed because so much of it came from Carlos… Carlos! The man went into the Deeps with Harry! Ouch.

5. Rudolph… that roach.

Ugh, I’ve had the disturbing thought that now that magic and the supernatural on the path to being exposed to all of humanity, scared humanity too, that will end up with a resurgence of a new Inquisition and the killing of anything eldritch. And you know that Rudolph would definitely be in it. *shudders in disgust* Creep.

BTW I totally don’t believe that Rudolph answers to Marcone. It doesn’t make sense as to why he was so pushy go get Harry during ‘Changes’. I had thought he was answering to the Red Court but with them being taken out of the picture… now I wonder if he isn’t answerable to the Black Council.

Things I Did Not Expect:

1. Damn… when Ebenezer sent that spell through Harry and ‘killing’ I was so shocked even though I was pretty sure there was a twist coming. Mostly because of what it says about Ebenezer.

Ebenezer actions killed Harry.

Sure it was a fake body that brought no harm to the real Harry. But if Harry hadn’t thought ahead? If he hadn’t used his brain to ask Molly to create a fake? Eb would have killed his own grandson.

Sure it was an accident but it could so easy have resulted in a dead Harry. I was crying so hard I wondered if my eyeballs were loosening in their sockets. Argh.

2. Bonea…. Harry your naming skills are simply weird. I’m so glad that Susan named Maggie.

Although Bonnie is a pretty great nickname.

Thinks I Found Utterly Hilarious

1. The line about the best offense being a T-Rex? Gold. Pure gold.

2. When Harry figured out there are angels in the hilt of the Swords of the Cross and Butter’s immediate reaction of horror because he’d accidentally laundered the hilt, giving it a ride in a washing machine.

OMG! I had the instant image of a miniature angel screaming and growing dizzy when going through the spin cycle.

I know that makes no sense but that’s where my mind went, okay.

3. The conjuritis. Omg, it’s so gross with all the ectoplasm leaking from Harry’s nose but it’s sooooo funny. Also the way he kept getting the ‘aren’t you too old for this’ from Ebenezer and then Lara made me giggle even harder.

Then I thought: dude, it’s like chicken pox, something you got as a kid but if you never had it you get it when exposed later in life. So one of his kids has it. Probably Maggie too.

4. When Sanya pretended to have his hand lopped off. I straightened up and was so worried Sanya had lost a hand. Then when I realized he was pretending to freak out Butters and Harry I admit to laughing way too hard. Got me too.’

Also there’s no way that Sanya was actually defeated there. He’s younger and better trained then Butters, I don’t care how light (Heh) the new sword is. He definitely threw that fight to test his hunch.

5. Murphy’s inability to handle being flirted on with a red-headed warrior woman. Sooooo funny. I mean, Murphy could have said a number of things such as ‘I’m exclusive.’ or ‘I’m not interested in women.’ But she just floundered. Heh heh.

6. I continue to find it completely hilarious that Lara, a couple of centuries old vampire, seems to keep learning a lot of power moves from Marcone.

Such as: having trained fighters that are NOT food, well… mostly. Having those mines installed in the walls. And now hiring a Valkerie of her very own.

I keep thinking, yeah, there’s no way she’d win in a fight against Marcone because there’ s no way that Marcone has let slip all of his tricks.

Things I Really, Really Liked:

1. Marcone. Everything Marcone. *heart-eyes*

And then he proves why he’s so damned scary by standing up to the Titan. Then to the ghouls. Then after proving his bad-ass quotient if off the charts he gets everyone organized to fight.

Yeeessss… It proves to me that when it comes to protecting Chicago he is actually the best person after Harry. Hell, in some ways he’s better than Harry. Now, I’m not saying he’s a white knight or anything like that. Just that he has the intelligence, the ruthlessness, the will, the power and the men to provide the most protection to the city’s mortal denizens. At least when there’s a war raging with multiple enemies who will be attacking at various points.

And oh, I can’t wait to see how he’s going to get revenge for the death of his people. Omg, he’s going to kill the Formor so hard. *goes starry eyed thinking about more Marcone*

But why did he have to appear so late in the book?! *wails in a heart-rending fashion*

There better be a ton more Marcone in the next book! *makes desperate gimme gimme hands*

No, I don’t have a Marcone addiction… I can stop anytime I want to. *sneaks off to mainline some “Even Hand” straight into the brain*

2. The return of Goodman Grey! Oh, I hope he’s around a lot! I’ve really grown to like him.

<b>Things Which Blew My Mind or Were Just Freaking Awesome: </b>

1. Dad!Harry is actually the most amazing Harry. Forget the magic flinging and the fire storms… this is the best Harry.

Just the way he takes care of his kids…. *turns to mush like ectoplasm*

2. Murphy and Harry are finally together! Yay! Yay! Hip hip hooray!

Now, I’m a rather shameless Marcone/Dresden fic writer, but as I never ever expect this to be canon I’m content to write it as fanfic for my own sense of delight. However when it comes to canon I’m full on board with the Karrin and Harry relationship. Be it friendship or romantic, I think its great.

3. Marcone… that is all.

Random Speculation

1. I find myself wondering about Ebenezer’s rage against vampires. And my brain muttered this theory: Maybe Harry’s grandmother was killed by White Court vampires.

Whoa.

It would explain the vitrolic rage.

And if Lara was involved it would also explain her flash of shame.

We don’t know anything about Harry’s grandmother, not even her name. So… that’s a thought.

2. River Shoulders teaching Harry.

Oh man, oh man, I hope Harry learns shape-shifting.

And thinking about it I had to wonder if the animal-shifting had anything to do with knowing the animal in question which of course made me think…

Harry should learn to shape-shift into a T-Rex.

He already knows how one is put together and the mind of one. And he knows that it’s possible to add extra mass to a shift from the Nevernever in the form of ectoplasm… so

Harrysarous Rex, baby…. I may have to write a fic with this premise.

3. Oh, if it’s possible to make a ectoplasmic body can Harry learn to make one for Bonea? After all Maggie would probably really enjoy getting to play with her little sister that way. Even if Harry can’t do it all the time and it wouldn’t last longer than a day. That would be delightful.

4. Okay, not this is more head-canon than speculation but… considering how hard Harry has been made to be analogous to Merlin I can’t help but wonder if Marcone is suppose to be Arthur’s analogue. So wielding Amorrachius *coughs*Excalibur*coughs* would make sense.

…it’s not just my Marcone-love talking dammit.

Speaking of Merlin, I’m convinced that he’s behind this whole ‘starborn’ thing. Seriously, otherwise its way too convenient that a wizard with that power is born every 666 years. It smacks of a spell.

And if that’s the case it also feeds into my pet theory that the whole reason we have Outsides at the Gates is because Merlin was the schmuck who drew them to our reality in the first place. And everything surrounding the war with the Outsiders are his attempts to try to fix what he broke.

*lost in pondering thoughts*

Things I Have Questions About

1. Did Harry forget he has The Ways Map from his mother? I would have thought he would have figured out a way (heh) to get to the island somehow. He was on it for so long I thought for sure he’d spend time exploring it. Also we knew from ‘Skin Game’ that even tiny factors can change where the Way goes in the Nevernever. I doubt the ENTIRE island has Ways that lead to a bad place. Especially for Harry now that he’s the Warden.

2. Also why didn’t Harry get Lea to help him? After all unless she’s moved it since ‘Changes’ her garden is still on the other side of the sub-basement.

3. What did Lara use that first favor from Mab on? *eyes her suspiciously*

4. Where are the Za Lord’s Guard? *wondering about what been happening with Lacuna and Toot-toot*

5. If Harry gets kicked out of the White Council (good riddance, since they haven’t exactly been all that helpful lately) can he get enough signatures to be added as a member of the Accords in his own right? After all being Warden of Demonreach has got to mean a lot to the older members.

Then he wouldn’t be reliant on Mab’s protection.

I can’t help but hope this proves to be the case, especially if in ‘Battle Ground’ Harry ends up taking down that Titan. Because he needs as much protection and influence he can gather if he’s no longer White Council to protect himself, his people and his kids. Especially if he eventually gets rid of that Winter Knight mantle like I hope he does.

6. How in the hell (pardon the pun) did evil demon Sasquatch survive being turned to mush by Hade’s Ice Gate? Or the shades that were part of the security system that almost got Harry?

*frowns* The only reason I can think of would be the coin of Ursiel being the factor. I doubt a Fallen Angel is allowed to stick around in the Greek realm of the afterlife.

7. WHERE IS BOB?! Seriously, if Butters doesn’t give him back...

[lihikainanea]

Back onto Bill and Tiger moving in together: Bill owns his appartment right? What if Tiger insisted on paying him rent? That’s a very Tiger thing. And I don’t know why I can just see them playing around with that fact like one day she’d come to him while he’s in the kitchen like "sooo um... since you’re my landlord..." and Bill doesn’t understand why but he’d suddenly get very turned on and she’d continue "and i’m an hour late on my payment... do you wanna do something about it..."

Okay so listen, listen, tiger and Bill finally move in together right? Because that’s what best friends do. And I still think Bill totally tricked her, because while tiger was so adamant on paying half the rent, Bill agreed very willingly--because he doesn’t pay rent. Like, he pays $0 in rent. Because he bought his place upfront, all cash, and he has zero debt on it. So when tiger stomps her foot, pulls her independent queen act, Bill smiles reverently--yes of course tiger you can pay for half the rent. Because half of zero dollars is....zero dollars.

And it takes tiger entirely too long to figure that out. Like, it takes her the whole month, until rent is due, and she marches up to Bill with her glasses on and her check book ready and demands to know how much she owes him. Bill smirks--that annoying, cocky little smirk--teases her about her check book. Who the fuck owns a check book anymore?

And then he takes a dainty sip of his scotch, and informs her that she owes him nothing. Because he doesn’t have a rent to pay.

But don’t kid yourself, tiger is furious. Maybe they actually have a pretty bad fight about it, because she accuses him of being dishonest. Bill’s sole defence is that he didn’t tell her because he knew she’d be angry--which uh, hello adult relationships, that’s no excuse. Bill you bonehead.

Tiger is probably really angry, and she has every right to be because she feels like he totally duped her. Bill has some serious damage control to do, and it’s even more tricky because tiger hates his money. Like, she hates his fucking money. She doesn’t want it. She gets angry if he pays for things, gets angry when he buys her things, gets angry if she feels that he thinks she wants him for his money. And Bill doesn’t ever think that anyway, but his money is always just...it’s a sensitive topic. He has too much of it and tiger hates it, and also doesn’t grasp the concept of relativity. We’ve talked a bit about it before, how relative money is--a cup of coffee at Starbucks 4x a week is not expensive in relation to tiger’s salary.

A $1.5 million dollar apartment paid upfront with no mortgage is not expensive in relation to Bill’s salary.

But one of those two concepts is a little harder to uh, grasp for tiger.

And after a really big fight--they work it out. It’s hard, and the fight goes on forever because tiger is not just angry, she’s hurt--but they work it out. Bill points out that tiger still pays half the utilities--and that he takes really long, really hot showers. That water bill ain’t cheap. He points out that they split groceries; they each put the same amount into the “pot” every week and buy groceries with it. He points out that she cleans the shower drain to which she argues that it’s her hair anyway but she has to stop when Bill starts gagging.

She takes note that describing a slimy, wet ball of human hair pulled from a drain makes Bill gag. She archives that for later use.

He argues that what tiger doesn’t pay in rent, she more than makes up for in 100485849 other ways. But tiger has always been about equal, about real equal, and tiger doesn’t take free rides. She doesn’t like charity. Tiger especially doesn’t take charity from someone she loves deeply, someone she also knows is always slightly suspicious of peoples motivations, and someone that she doesn’t ever want to question her motivations.

It’s a hot mess, but I love this idea that like....they work out an arrangement. Bill gets a lot of blow jobs anyway, but he gets some real nasty ones on the first of every month. Tiger convinces him to agree that the “rent” she’ll pay every month is to suck his soul out from his dick and Bill basically doesn’t even remember what the deal is, because tiger’s mouth is magic and he’ll agree to anything to get those lips on him.

But poor Bill just develops a very Pavlovian response to the first day of every month, or any mention of rent or due payment. At dinner one night a friend whipped out their phone to transfer rent money to their landlord and 3 seconds later, Bill all but hauled tiger out by the ponytail so that she could pay her “rent.”