#and I have a couple more angles on the sun shielding pose but I didn’t wanna make this post like

[candycryptids]

Bright and early is the only time to start any real adventures

[aponderingcharming]

Natasha gets hurt on a mission and Steve truly faces how he feels about her. Read on AO3

Steve spotted the shooter a half-second too late.

In all of the chaos of fists and firepower, the masked assailant had managed to break away under the cloak of distraction and obscure himself behind some foliage on the nearby hill. In the back of his mind, Steve knew something was amiss; there seemed to be a gap, a little extra breathing room between punches, but he charged on nonetheless, fending off a number of suspiciously highly-trained, highly-skilled fighters.  They were sharp and they were quick, their fighting style constantly changing and adapting to whatever the need was, and it was tough to keep up with what was coming next. The super serum coursing through his body, which would usually give Steve the upper-hand in combat, seemed to just be adequate in doing its job – and that didn’t sit right with him. These guys were almost like super soldiers themselves. It was only when he heard a distinct, short rustle from behind him that he realized what had slipped his attention.

And he realized that he was too late.

Natasha was fighting a few metres away, swinging and sloping her way around from person to person, barely letting anyone get a firm hit on her but making sure that she was leaving a trail of injury in her wake. Her moves were always so fluid, so nimble and lithe. Like she was dancing and everyone else was her partner, trying to match and keep up her rhythm – and utterly failing in doing so. Steve often thought it was one of the most beautiful things he had ever beheld.

The crack of the bullet as it whizzed through the air towards her was almost deafening and all Steve could do was watch on helplessly as Natasha’s dance came to an abrupt end. It was almost as if everything had gone into slow-motion:  Natasha jerked upwards with the force, her back arching and stretching before she dropped onto her knees, and then crumpled to the ground. Steve could practically feel the cackle of her aggressors whose once stricken and grimaced expressions had now transformed into sadistic smirks.

Without another thought, he sprang into action, seeing red.

Eyes alight and muscles burning, the soldier in him took over and whatever had inhibited him and gave him pause before had now dissipated completely and all that was left was just pure strength, will and determination. He promptly and decisively dealt with each and every person that got in his way in a matter of moments –including the hidden shooter; he got a face full of shield and, boy, did that feel satisfying – and then sprinted over to her unmoving body that lay limp on the dusty ground.

“Nat!” he yelled, sliding onto the ground and gathering her into his arms whilst also keeping a keen watch in case anyone had started to rouse. Thankfully, it was a still scene. His fingers frantically searched for a pulse and he sighed in relief when he felt the defiant thrum under his touch. “Oh thank God,” he breathed to himself. Blood was seeping through her suit in a steady flow and Steve made sure to apply pressure with the base of his hand.

“Guys, can anyone hear me? Nat’s been hit. Guys!” he shouted into the comms. “We need to be extracted, she needs medical attention. Can anyone hear me?” He waited a few seconds, his breath heavy and laboured. She still wasn’t moving. “Tony? Anybody? We’re about 3 miles north from the base….” Steve examined the area, looking for a place to take cover. “I need to move her. We need to get out of plain sight. Does anybody copy?”

Frustrated with the silence on the other end and ignoring the foreboding sensation in the pit of his stomach at what silence at the other end could mean, Steve steadied himself and positioned Natasha in such a way that he was cradling her, and rose to his feet. She looked so small and helpless in his arms. If you didn’t know her, it’d be hard to wrap your head around the fact that she could kill you in probably thousands of different ways in the space of a couple of seconds. He adjusted her again so that her head rested against his heart. “I’ll get you out of here, Nat,” he said quietly, giving one last look around for any signs of danger, and then started walking.

There was an old, run-down, abandoned-looking motel not too far out of his eye-line and he carried her the whole way there, feeling uneasy at how calm his surroundings were. There wasn’t a sound to be heard for what felt like miles. No traffic, no rustling, no chatter. Not even birds were singing.

“Guys,” he announced again into the comms, willing for someone – anyone –to hear him, “I’m taking her to a motel approximately fifteen minutes by foot from our last location. It’s called Motel Sol. Please…” he paused, tired, “if anyone hears this, please come get us. I’m not sure how bad her wound is. Her pulse is steady but she’s unresponsive. We need to regroup.” He sighed again, feeling like he was totally alone.

It wasn’t the first time he’d seen her shot, but this time it felt different. They had only really started to get to know each other back then, only starting to trust one another. Now? Well, now it was different. They were close. She was probably the closest friend he had – not that he’d ever admit that to her. Not that she’d even believe him either; Natasha didn’t really believe that she deserved friends - or anything good in her life. That part he always struggled with. After all this time, after all the work she put into saving people and righting wrongs and maintaining fairness and order, she still didn’t see herself as anyone worthy of, well, anything. It was like she had a salvation checklist a thousand miles long that she ensured she’d never truly complete. That was the thing about Nat though: she was her own worst enemy. Steve just wished she could see herself the way the others saw her. The way he saw her.

His bond with her had shifted over time. They had each become something for the other over the years; a balance, a new perspective, a confidante. But sometimes, Steve allowed himself to pretend what it’d be like if he ever told her how he really felt. How his feelings for her had moulded and shaped into these new feelings he didn’t know he could still feel after all this…time, after everything he had lost when he went into the ice. And he didn’t even realize it was happening most the time. It would strike him suddenly; in an uptick of her lips, a softening in her stare, a joke, a warm, genuine laugh, a playful elbow to the ribs, a surprising gesture, a real conversation. By the time he figured out what was going on, he was too far gone. Way too far gone.

Now he couldn’t – and never wanted to – imagine a life without her.

Now he had something to lose.

Steve climbed the steps of the motel, taking note of the eight rooms that lined the corridor. He chanced a brief glance over the balcony at the scene of their battle; most of the attackers were still knocked out and on the ground, their weapons splayed sporadically around them. An exasperated sigh escaped him. Those men should have been arrested and dealt with. Where was his team?

The sun was setting now and it hung lazily just above the horizon, teasing its descent, splashing burnt oranges and husky shades of pink and lavender across the sky in this beautiful, poignant display. If it was any other time, in any other life, it may have been one of the most stunning things Steve had ever seen.

Yet when he looked down at Natasha’s unresponsive state, his heart tugged at the clash and helpless, crushing fear broke over him in thick waves.

Steve turned towards the rooms again and opted for room 6, kicking it open. The door flung wide, colliding with a table that seemed to be situated against the wall and bounced back on him as he walked through. He angrily kicked it out of his way again with much more vigour, forcing it to close itself this time. He felt the tiniest bit of release in the action. The room looked like it hadn’t been touched in decades but he didn’t have time to take much stock of it once his eyes fell on the bed. It was situated against the far wall, adorned with olive green floral sheets that looked like something his mom would have had on her bed back in the ‘30s.

Rushing over to the bed, he then delicately laid Natasha’s body down, extra cautious with his arms as he slipped them out from under her. “Come on, Nat, open your eyes,” he whispered as he pulled down the zipper of her suit. “I’d love to know what you’d say if you caught me doing this,” he quipped half-heartedly as he worked it down enough so that he could pull it over her shoulder once he angled her a little higher.

A sharp hiss of breath shot out of him as he appraised her wound.  The bullet went clean through – thank God - but she was still bleeding so much. Flicking his gaze around the room as if the inanimate objects would somehow give him a sign of what to do next, Steve rubbed his eyes, wiling himself to focus. “Come on, Steve, you know what to do.”

And suddenly, as though his brain had finally clicked into gear, he spotted a tear in the corner of the bedsheet. Without any more hesitation, he took hold of it in his hands and easily ripped off a long piece that could pose as a bandage. Crouching back over her, he shifted her oh-so-gently onto her side so that he could wrap the cloth around and around and around until he was satisfied that it was tight enough and the blood had nowhere else to go, and tied a sturdy knot with the loose ends. It wasn’t the prettiest attempt at staunching a wound but Steve would sure as hell take it right now.

“You know, bullet wounds and blood are kind of more of your thing. I might need you to teach me a few things when we get back,” he murmured to her, wanting to keep their line of communication open, as he rested her onto her back again. A loose lock of her hair slewed across her face with the movement and before he could form the urge to stop himself, he leaned over and tentatively brushed it back behind her ear, letting his thumb lightly sweep over cheek just once. Her forehead softly pinched under the touch and he wondered if she was about to wake up but as he waited for those piercing green eyes to open and possibly scold him for the contact, it smoothed out again. A tired, longing sigh forced its way out of him.

When he pulled back to stand upright, he couldn’t help but notice how small she looked under the shadow of his towering frame. If he was being honest, and he never felt embarrassed to admit it, but most of the time it was her who was protecting him; it almost felt weird for him to be doing the protecting now. Natasha was just always there. Any time he seemed outnumbered, on the back-foot or at a loss as to what his next move would be, he’d turn around and she’d already be there making her presence known. Or he’d hear the rasp of her voice or a beguiling jest from somewhere in the distance alerting him that help was on the way. She was just always there for him. And now it was his time to return the favour and he was going to make damn well sure that she was taken care of until he could figure out what to do next.

Dank, musty air worked its way in and out of his lungs for a few moments while he tried to keep himself focused. Steve knew that their targets were still at large, probably regrouping, and probably nearby. He needed to make sure they kept a low profile so he went over to the window and drew the blinds, and then went to every light in the room and made sure it was switched it off aside from the dull lamp on the locker beside the bed that just barely illuminated the space Natasha took up. He didn’t want her to wake up to total darkness.

She was going to be okay. He knew that. He just…he needed someone to contact them. They needed to get out of here.  

And the room was so warm. Too warm. That kind of warm that you think you’re comfortable in but then when you spend a decent amount of time in it, you realise that’s it’s actually suffocating. It’s sticky, and wet, and heavy. Boy did he wish he was not wearing his suit right then. While it was built to be breathable, it wasn’t all that much use in dense heat. It was only then that he realized that he was still wearing his helmet. “Rogers, you are really not with it,” he told himself with a shake of the head, allowing himself a self-deprecating laugh.

He removed the helmet and placed it on the table and then ran his hands though his hair, feeling more than a little alarmed at how rattled he was with this whole thing. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but he just hadn’t been himself all day. Even during the fight he couldn’t gain any sense of rhythm; always felt to be one step behind and slow off the mark. And it angered him. Every movement felt laboured, even the combinations of punches and kicks he had administered countless times seemed to skid across rather than land with the force intended.

He really should have spotted the shooter sooner.

“Let me guess…” came a voice from behind him, “…you’re beating yourself up over what happened.”

Steve whipped around to see Natasha squinting at him from where she lay.

She was awake.

“Wha-”

“It’s a waste of time, Rogers,” she said with a grimace.

He was over to her side in an instant, positioning himself on the edge of the bed. “Are you okay?”

She swallowed hard, blinking heavy. “Well I’m pretty sure I’ve just been shot but yeah, apart from that, I’m doing just swell.”

A breathy chuckle escaped him at that. Trust Natasha Romanoff to make a joke at a time like this. “Are you hurting? Can I do anything to make you more comfortable?”

She glanced down at his make-shift bandage that was covered in her blood at this point. But it looked like the bleeding had slowed dramatically. “Nice job,” she commented wryly, the slightest of smirks creeping onto her face.

“Hey, I never claimed to be good at this kind of stuff,” he defended quickly. “I did what I had to do. You should be thanking me,” he tagged on with a grin.

“I’ll make sure to give you lessons you when we get back. Can’t have Captain America clueless when it comes to dressing wounds.”

“Okay, okay, I’m just out of practice, that’s all.” And then suddenly, “Wait, could you hear me?”

She closed her eyes for a second. “Sort of.  You sounded far away.” She paused. “But trust me, you wouldn’t have been able to handle what I would have said to you if I had caught you undressing me.”

Eyes wide, Steve gulped and tried to ignore the way her words made him feel. The implication in the undercurrent of her comment was unmistakable.  It was already too warm for this liking but now it was…now it was much warmer. Unable to stop himself, he met her gaze. There was this obvious glimmer in her eyes; a teasing, but also something else. Something he had never seen before.

They stared at each other for a few long beats and though he desperately wanted to quip something back to keep their banter flowing and break whatever had come over them, he found himself completely floundering about for words. Truthfully, he was just so relieved that not only was she awake and seemingly okay, she was still herself and she was with him. And he didn’t mean that in a grand, romanticised kind of way, just in the simplest sense of the thought: he loved being around her, and if he was to be stranded in an old and out-dated motel, then he couldn’t think of anyone else that he’d rather be with.

Thankfully, Natasha was keen on keeping them on track even though the tone in her own voice had made a shift, too. He tried not to think too much about what that could mean either. “Could you help me sit up? It’s really hard to look up at you from this angle.”

“Oh yeah, of course. Sorry,” he muttered.

He stood then and reached down so that one arm was tucked under her knees as the other glided gently under her upper torso. The woman used her good arm to grab onto him as an anchor and used the strength she had left in her legs to assist him in getting her seated upright. Drawing in deep breaths to assuage the pain, she winced as she got into her desired position, lolling just a bit to the side as though the rocking movement could soothe her.

“You don’t need to apologise, Steve,” she said seriously, all façade and joking pushed aside.

His brow furrowed. “I-”

“You don’t need to apologise,” she repeated more sternly. “For anything.”

Steve sat back down on the bed, keeping his eyes on her. “I should have seen him. The shooter. I knew something was wrong and I don’t know how I let him slip away.”

“Why do you think you should have seen him? It’s not like you didn’t have your hands full.”

“I’m usually really perceptive about these things,” he answered even though he knew it was weak.

He couldn’t tell her the real reason.  He couldn’t tell her that he would do anything to make sure she was okay. That he hated the fact that he couldn’t be there to save her. That he hated that he couldn’t protect her. That he would never forgive himself if something worse had happened to her. That he couldn’t stand the thought of losing her.

That he loved her.

He should have been paying more attention.

Natasha appraised him with soft eyes, eyes that looked like they could see right through him and everything he was saying. He loved those eyes; eyes that were so open and genuine. They came out so rarely and mostly only to him.

“I didn’t see him either, Steve,” she whispered. “Just because you’re Captain America doesn’t mean that you have to be everywhere at once. You don’t always have to save the day and make everything okay. Sometimes things just happen. And we have to be okay with that.”

The man chuckled and ducked his head, abashed. “Figures. You’ve been shot and you’re giving me a pep talk.”

Natasha smiled, arching a cool eyebrow. “You must be rubbing off on me. Just don’t get used to it.”

He could have let the moment sink and end just there, let the words just drift off into some echo of memory and push on to the next thing – she sounded like she was ready to - but something inside of him just wouldn’t let him. Instead, he found himself confessing. “I just hated that I wasn’t there in time. That I couldn’t protect you. You know, you are…” he looked up, met her wide stare that seemed…wary and frightened? – and balked, “…we’re partners and I feel like I failed you.”

Her eyes remained unmoved. They bore into his as if trying to read everything he wasn’t saying and any other time he would have broken the trance, flinched under the scrutiny, but there was just the tiniest part of him that wanted her to see it all behind the words. He was feeling brave; braver than he ever had. He came close to losing her today – a couple of inches lower and that could have been it. And though he had no idea if she even felt a breath of what he felt for her, he wanted her to know that he saw her and he chose her, despite it all.

Licking her lips, she kept her voice just teetering above a whisper.  “You didn’t fail me. That’s the life we lead, Steve. We chose this. This life, this job. It comes with risks. It comes with the chance that someone might not make it back. It always has.” She stopped then, unsure. She was still in pain, moving a little more to the side and barring her teeth for a beat before continuing. “And like you said, we’re partners. I’ve got your back and I know you’ve got my back but sometimes we can’t always be where we want to be. So please don’t be so hard on yourself. I’m gonna be okay.”

“I know, I - you just…you mean a lot to me, Natasha.”

If he didn’t know any better, Steve thought he heard her heart quicken.

“I know.” With some hesitation, her hand reached out to graze his knuckles. It was as light as a feather but it was enough to set every sense of his on fire. “I worry about you, too.” This time she turned away and broke the contact, the sincerity of her words prompting her to retreat away from his gaze. And the sincerity was undeniable. He breathed a little stronger and let the truth fill him with just enough hope.

“Nat,” he started, swallowing. “I think I need to tell you something and I don’t know what you’re gonna think of it…”

Her head snapped back, eyes shining with what he thought was understanding yet the edges were tinged with dread. Her voice was tender, afraid. “Steve…” she prayed and he thought he could live off that sound for the rest of his life. “Just…just not now, okay?”

It was a plea.

She knew what he was going to say but she couldn’t hear it now. She wasn’t ready.

But that gave him hope.

Hope that there would be one day where she might be ready.

An understanding sigh tripped from his lips and he gave her his warmest smile, not wanting her to feel uncomfortable. He never wanted her to feel uncomfortable around him. He wanted to be the safest place for her. She smiled back, full. He nodded then, rubbing his hands on his legs, using the action to change the atmosphere but also to release whatever it was that was happening in his body.

“Well,” he declared, his voice stronger now, “I think you better get some rest. I haven’t heard from anyone but I think once you’ve taken it easy for a while, our best bet is to make a break for it and head back to base just before sunrise.”

“Yeah, I think that’s smart,” she agreed.

“Okay.” Steve stood up from the bed, grunting a little. He didn’t realize how tired his own muscles were.

“Wait, where are you going to sleep?” she quizzed.

He gestured loosely to the chair.

Natasha shook her head. “No way are you going to sleep on that. Come on.” She beckoned him over to the bed as she scooted haphazardly against the wall and slid down with extra caution into somewhat of a lying position. “You can sleep on the outside so if someone comes to get us during the night, they’ll get you first.”

“Oh, nice,” he chuckled. “And what about you?”

“What about me?”

“Well if I’m fighting the bad guys what are you gonna be doing?”

“Well while you’re toughing it out, I’m obviously going to escape,” she replied sweetly.

“Oh well I suppose as long as you escape that’s all that matters.”

“Yep. See this is why we make the best team.” Despite the tease, her smile was real. And it reached her eyes, drawing the same from him in reply.

Before joining her, Steve took the two chairs in the room and the chest of drawers and shoved them up against the door. No point in taking any chances. He then turned off the last light and carefully lowered himself down onto the bed, making sure as to not brush off her side as he did so and feeling way too large for this modestly-sized motel cot.  Something like this wasn’t made for anyone slightly above average height.

In the dark he could feel the weight of their conversation hovering over them. He ached to pull her flush to him and wrap his arms around her. He longed to know what it would feel like to have her head rest against his chest and to feel her fingers dance across his arms.

And then, as if she could read his mind, he felt her hand slip into his. The move was easy and smooth, as if they had done this a million times. She pumped it twice in assurance and he wasted no time in returning the response. Her skin was softer than he expected; there were callouses on some of her fingers – from the guns probably, but when he ran his thumb along her palm, he revelled in the silky feel, relishing in the chance of getting to know a part of her body intimately.

As their hands did this dance, they each drifted off to sleep.

A couple of hours later, a buzz from his comm woke Steve.

“Cap? Can you hear me? We’re on route. Stay in position.”

He looked over at Natasha who was still sleeping, looking less troubled than she had in some time. “Roger that,” he returned.

He looked down at their intertwined hands and finally let lose a relieved breath. They were going to be okay.

[tefanfics]

Changes

Chapter 12

It had been almost two weeks since the night at my apartment. I saw Taron most every day but work was the priority for both of us. I was bound and determined to give my all to this job. I worked hard and did all that I was asked and sometimes more.

But that didn’t stop the stolen glances. I had caught Taron looking at me more times than I could count. I returned the favor when I could. It was easier for me than him and he knew it. He’d smile and wink, blowing kisses whenever he’d catch me. But most of all, work didn’t seem to stop the secret kisses. At least once a day, Taron would find me. He’d pull me aside for something, always “regarding the script” and that was that. Kisses to my forehead and cheeks were constant but the ones to my lips felt forbidden as we kept ourselves out of view.

When I was finally done for the day, I gathered my things and called for a taxi to go home. I had three days off and I was more than excited for it. I needed to get groceries and do the usual chores around my apartment. But most of all, Taron had two days off and evidently he had plans.

Once I was home, I discarded my backpack, shoes and coat and fell onto the couch. Sitting in the middle of the coffee table was a vase full of flowers, courtesy of Taron. They had been delivered two days before. The card sat by the vase with his scrawl across it.

I played on my phone for a while before I felt myself starting to doze off. I forced myself up and readied my self for bed before crawling into bed for the night.

The next morning, I was woken up by the sound of my phone ringing from my nightstand. I grabbed it and answered, holding my phone to my ear while my eyes will still shut. “Hello?” My voice was groggy and there was no hiding I had just woke up.

“Well good morning, sunshine,” Taron’s voice came through the phone.

“Hey there.”

“Did I wake you?” He asked. I could hear small movements in the background but I was too tired to try and pay attention.

“Yes,” I answered, “But that’s okay. I probably should be awake by now any way.” I forced myself to sit up, stretching my free hand high above my head. “What’s up?”

“Just was wondering what time I could steal you later.”

I smiled as I started to climb out of bed, putting my glasses on in the process. I walked into the bathroom and started the shower before walking to the kitchen. “Whenever you’d like. Being an adult can wait till tomorrow.”

Taron chuckled. “Any time then?”

“Any time,” I confirmed. I grabbed a glass from the cabinet and poured myself a glass of orange. Halfway through the glass, I heard a knock on the door. “Taron?” I asked, raising my eyebrows. I sat my glass down and walked toward the door but stopped myself. I hadn’t brushed my hair, my glasses were on and I still wore my pajama shorts and a tank top.

The line stayed quiet as I reluctantly opened the front door. Taron stood there, his phone up to his ear. I bit my lower lip as I let him inside and hung up the phone call. “Hi,” I said finally. “I- Sorry, I was about to shower. I look awful.” I let out a nervous laugh as I adjusted my glasses.

Taron shook his head. “No you don’t.” He smiled warmly at me and took ahold of my hand, pulling it to his mouth and kissing the back of it. “Still beautiful.”

I blushed and shook my head. “Now I know you’re just being nice,” I said with a little laugh. “Give me a few, okay? Gonna shower and get ready.” Taron nodded in response as I disappeared to the bathroom. I quickly jumped in the shower and washed my hair and body. I rinsed and shut the water off, climbing out of the shower and dried off. I wrapped the towel around my body and took the blow dryer to my hair. I dried it the best I could while hurrying. After I did the other essentials, I left the bathroom. I stood in my bedroom and looked around, trying to find my jeans. My eyes landed on the open bedroom door. I quickly shut the door and got dressed. I pulled on my jeans and a black t-shirt followed by my favorite turquoise and black flannel.

I returned to the living room with socks in my hand, sitting down beside Taron before putting them on. “There, that’s more like it,” I said with a smile.

“I don’t know. I actually liked the glasses look,” Taron retorted. “And the bedhead was cute.”

I rolled my eyes at him before gesturing to the flowers. “Thank you for those, by the way.” I retrieved my boots and put them on before holding a hand out to Taron. “So what’s on the agenda today?”

“How do you feel about being a tourist today?” He asked as he took my hand, standing up. “Big Ben, Buckingham Palace, Tower Bridge…?”

“Sounds like I need my camera,” I answered with a grin. I disappeared to the bedroom again and found my camera bag before returning.

“Then tonight… Well you might want to change for tonight.”

I raised an eyebrow at Taron before heading to the door. I pulled my wallet and keys from my purse and put them in the bag before we left. A taxi was waiting for us by time we got to the sidewalk and it took us to Big Ben first.

I followed Taron around everywhere we went. I had no clue where we were going or how to get to each landmark.

But Taron was patient with me. Everywhere we went, he waited for me as I snapped photos from every direction and angle. He seemed to fall right in sync with me, knowing exactly when I was going to stop for another picture.

“Capturing anything good?” Taron asked me as we walked down the sidewalk, getting closer to Buckingham Palace.

I flipped through the photos on my camera, one hand shielding the screen from the sun. “Bound to be a few good ones in there,” I answered before I turned my camera off. “It’s been a while since I’ve done the photography thing. I did a lot of family portraits for a long time but eventually business died down that I sort of gave up.”

“You should give it a go again,” he encouraged. “Especially if you enjoyed it.”

I smiled and nodded. I did enjoy having the camera in my hands again. We walked for a couple of minutes in silence before I heard someone say Taron’s name as we walked past them.

“Uh, hi, excuse me, Taron?” A girl asked. “I’m a really big fan and I was just wondering if I could get a photo with you?”

“Thank you! That means a lot,” Taron answered. He gave me a quick look before posing next to the girl for a photo. I took a few more steps ahead. I pretended like I was focused on my camera as I stood there and waited for Taron to be finished. She said thank you a few times before Taron was finally able to walk away.

“Sorry about that,” he said to me as we continued to walk.

“Nothing to say sorry for,” I answered with a shrug. “That has to be weird though. To get stopped while doing completely normal things and people want photos.”

“I’m more used to it than I used to be. Some people don’t say anything, they just stare. And I’m not sure which one I prefer.”

I giggled quietly looking at him. “I do have a question though, Taron.” He looked down at me, though I couldn’t see his eyes through his sunglasses. “Aren’t you worried someone is going to see you walking around with me?” I paused as I looked ahead, my eyes focusing on the Palace. “They could start posting photos and… I don’t know.” I shrugged as I came to a stop.

“Let them post all the photos they want,” Taron answered. I felt his hand in mine, his fingers laced between my own. “I don’t see the problem with them sharing photos of me with a pretty girl.”

[iwillgiveyoumyhappiness]

박우진, Park Woojin

anonymous asked:

I'm so glad I could make your day! Finding your scenarios made me super happy too ;u; AB6IX is so new so there aren't many fics for them yet but ahh I really liked what I've read from you so far. Could I make a request please? Something with Woojin with the themes of "coffee" and "camera"? Everything and anything else is totally up to you! I trust in your imagination~ I love the boy so so so much, he is so precious aaaaa ;u;

Group: AB6IX

Member: Woojin

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She walked into the coffee shop with a sense of confidence. It was like a second home to her, so she knew her way around perfectly. 

She checked her watch. She was about ten minutes early, but that just meant that she could order beforehand. She didn’t really need to, though. The barista immediately recognized her. 

“I know you,” he chuckled. “Iced Americano and Matcha Latte, right?”

She flashed him a smile. “You’ve got me pegged,” she said with a shrug. 

The barista smiled, jotting down the order in a small notebook before slipping it shut. He glanced around. “Where’s your boyfriend?” he asked. 

“I’m early,” she explained. She gave a quick thanks before wandering off to the seating area. She pouted upon seeing that their usual seat was taken, but she supposed moving down a few tables wouldn’t hurt. 

She sat down with a content sigh, happy to rest her legs. She kicked her heels off under the table, hoping no one would notice. She had the brief thought of, “What if my feet stink?”, but luckily, no unpleasant scents came wafting.

She closed her eyes, taking in the quiet music that played over the speakers. She bopped her head up and down to the beat, her fingers joining in at some parts, tapping them rhythmically against the table. 

She was confused when she heard an off-beat couple of taps. She cracked an eye open, looking out the window, only to be blinded by a flashing light. It caught her off guard, but she wasn’t scared. 

There was only one person that would pull something like that.

Once her eyes readjusted, she immediately smiled. Outside the window, there stood Park Woojin, his eyes pushed up into crescents from his smile and a Polaroid camera in his hands. 

She shook her head at him, chuckling to herself. 

He blew her a cheeky kiss from outside before running (or as he would put it, ‘reasonably speed-walking’) off to the front of the shop. The brass bell at the top of the door rang gently when he pushed the door open. He stood at the entry way with his arm open for a hug, as if saying, “Come and get me”.

She covered her eyes. Why’d she have to fall in love with the most embarrassing person on earth? She looked at him, shaking her head. She gestured for him to join her. 

He pouted at her, huffily crossing his arms and raising a brow. 

She rolled her eyes. “I love you,” she mouthed to him. 

That seemed to satiate him enough. He rushed over to her, giving her a quick kiss before settling down in the chair opposite to her. He held up the camera. “Do you know what this is?” he asked, his voice thick with excitement. 

“The thing that just blinded me?” she suggested playfully.

He flicked her forehead. “Wrong!” he said. “This is something much more important than that. It’s gonna carry our memories with it.” He was beaming. He dug in his pocket, pulling out the picture of her that it’d already printed out. “Look at this,” he said.

She took it from his hand. “It’s actually not too bad,” she said, looking over the snapshot. There was a little glare from the window, but it looked more stylistic than anything else. Plus, he had managed to catch her at what she thought was her best angle: 3/4 view. “When’d you get so good at photography?” 

He shrugged, taking the picture back and slipping it into his wallet. “Natural talent, I guess,” he said. 

She nodded. “Sure,” she chuckled. “So, Youngmin’s teaching you, then?”

He huffed. “Nothing gets past you, huh? For the record, I’m already better than him.” 

She laughed, trying to muffle it a little with her palm. “You’re acting so strangely today,” she said. The waiter came over, setting their drinks delicately in front of them. “Thank you,” she said, giving him a polite nod.

Woojin did the same. “You already ordered?” he asked once they were left alone.

She nodded, taking a sip of her latte. “Of course I did,” she said. “We always get the same thing here—”

“Hold that pose!” he interrupted, pulling the camera close to his face. He squinted, trying to make it as steady as possible. “Don’t look at the camera,” he instructed. “It has to look candid.” She said something to him, but due to the glass in front of her mouth, it was garbled and indecipherable. 

He started counting down. “Three... Two... One.” The camera shutter clicked. 

She gingerly pulled the cup away from her mouth. “You done yet?” she chuckled, wiping some foam off of her top lip. 

Woojin waited patiently for the picture to print out. Within seconds, it did; a 3x3 black and white image from their favorite coffee shop. A memory that they’d keep forever. 

He held it up. “Look at that,” he said. “Beautiful.” 

You blushed a little bit, laughing in embarrassment. “You’re acting seriously weird today,” she said. “What’s the occasion?” 

He took a sip from his Americano. “I have a day off, and I want to spend it with someone special,” he said.

“Oh, yeah? Where is she?” she asked playfully. 

Woojin could tease right back. “She’s not here yet, I guess.” 

She kicked him under the table. “Jerk,” she said. 

He kicked her, but much softer. He still had shoes on after all. “Takes one to know one,” he chuckled. 

She stuck her tongue out. “So,” she started, “what’s on the agenda for today?”

He gave her a cryptic smile. “Fun,” he said simply. 

Their first stop was the arcade. 

They played so many games, blew way too much money on claw machines, and basically sunk back into their childhood days. They would come to places like this with their friends. They would come by themselves to relieve stress. 

But for sure, their favorite time spent there was now. Just being together. 

Woojin hadn’t been able to take as many pictures as he wanted since the lighting was pretty dark, but he still made the most of it. That including tickling her sides to try and get her to lose Pac Man. 

Yet somehow, she still got the highest score. He didn’t quite see the logic in that. He figured the universe was just trying to teach him a lesson about cheating.

They played air hockey for an unreasonable amount of time, resulting in both of them having an equal number of losses and wins, much to their chagrin. 

Next stop: the mall.

There wasn’t any particular rhyme or reason to that one. Just lots of wandering around, window-shopping and goofy pictures taken of each other wearing ridiculous hats and sunglasses. 

They basically had a fashion-show in the middle of a store. 

People were staring at them strangely, sure—but they didn’t feel any embarrassment. They told each other, “Let’s be shameless today”. 

She laughed, trying to steal the camera from him. “Let me take pictures of you, too,” she whined playfully. 

He held it above her head. “You have taken pictures of me!” he said. 

“Not as many as you’ve taken of me!” she said, trying to jump for it as they walked. 

He jerked it away from her, out of her reach. He trapped her, wrapping his arm around her shoulder and pulling her flush against him. “I need these pictures more than you do,” he chuckled. “No stealing.” 

She furrowed her brows. “What do you mean by that?” she asked.

He blew a puff air in her face, fluttering her bangs. “None of your business.”

She cringed, but he noted the smile playing at the corners of her lips. “You’re disgusting,” she said. 

He nodded with a smile. “I know.” 

After that, it was lunch at an awesome sushi joint they’d found together a while back. It was always a place they went back to. There were a lot of memories in there. 

Memories of cola spilled on white shirts, lots of laughter, lots of kisses shared behind the safety of a makeshift menu-shield, lots of resolves arguments—overall, a beautiful place to them, despite the run-down exterior. 

She slipped her hand into his, looking around the humble restaurant. “I love this place,” she said, heaving a satisfied breath. 

He squeezed her hand back. “Me too,” he whispered, pecking her temple. 

They took their first together-picture of the day there. It had to be one of their favorites. The both of them, printed in black and white, sitting at a table near the back of the restaurant. It was nice and quiet and the perfect setting for a sickeningly sweet couple-photo.

And that it was! Both of them smiling genuinely, the tips of their noses touching and a light flush to both of their cheeks. 

Finally, as the sun was setting dramatically over the horizon, they arrived at their final stop. It was a park they’d always talked about going to, but they never had the time. 

They wandered around for a few hours taking pictures of each other in the flickering sunlight. 

“You’re pretty,” Woojin said, pausing his picture-taking to just marvel at her. She was back-lit by the dying sun, all of her so-called ‘flaws’ illuminated in an exemplary way. If he wasn’t 100% sure that she loved him, he’d never take his eyes off of her, afraid that someone would steal his beloved, ethereal light away.

She smiled at him. “And you’re handsome,” she said. The way he looked at her set off butterflies in her chest, just like their first date. How did he always manage to do that? She was positive that he would be her first and last heart-flutter.

Sure, they would argue, and they would hate each other for a time, and they would sigh at each other and say cruel words that they didn’t mean, but they would always come back together. They would talk, apologize and resolve. 

Because even when they were mad at each and didn’t like each other, they still loved each other. 

After every argument, when they realized their feelings were still just as strong as before, they would fall back into ‘like’ all over again. It was a healthy addition to their lifes.   

“I know,” he replied. She smacked him in the chest for that, but it just made him laugh. He hugged her and gave her a look; the look he usually gave when he was about to ask if he could kiss her. She just nodded. 

With no time to waste, he leaned in and connected their lips, smiling into it. 

When he pulled away, he pet her hair and caressed her jaw. “I love you,” he said, voice barely above a whisper.

“I love you, too,” she whispered back. She paused for a moment, biting her bottom lip in contemplation. “I like you,” she finally said.

If he wasn’t such a tough guy, he might’ve gotten tears in his eyes...

Okay, maybe he did, but he’d never let her tell anyone that. 

He leaned his forehead against hers, losing himself in her presence. “I like you, too,” he said. “I like you a lot, especially right now.” 

.

.

.

*takes deep breath* AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH- 

That goes on for another few centuries, so I won’t bother you with that. 😅 I hope you enjoyed it, 1102 Anon! The request was... I don’t know how to describe it. It was really pretty. Does that make sense? Like- as soon as I read your request, I thought: “Wow. That’s a beautiful thing”. 

Your request is one of the things that makes me think human-beings are really gorgeous. They can imagine stuff like that. So simple, yet so meaningful.

Thanks for entrusting me to write this! I hope it didn’t disappoint!  

[faefictions]

The Kids From Yesterday | 2

Pairing: Harrison Osterfield x Reader

Word Count: 2,940

Summary: roadtrip au

Tags: 

@smilexcaptainx @artsycth @rose-marys-love @chonisberonica @5sos-wdw @chloe-geoghegan1 @spiderlingsweb @embrace-themagic  @staringmoony @fanficparker @eyesinconsellations @otheenglishsetters

(let me know if you would like to be tagged when I update!)

 The next morning, you woke up with a headache. You didn’t remember coming back to the hotel the night before, but you did remember having the time of your life with your friends at the bar. 

The rest of the boys were awake and watching something on television. Harrison was sitting up in bed next to you, and the second you saw him, you knew he didn’t get much sleep. The bags under his eyes were darker than you had seen them in a long time, but your worry melted away when his smile crinkled up his under-eyes. 

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” he said. You groaned in response and pulled the sheets over your head to shield your eyes from the sunlight. 

Tom had called for room service and ordered everyone breakfast. You were lucky enough to wake up a few minutes before it got there. 

After you were all finished eating, you packed up your few belongings and brought them to the car to finish the drive to your new apartment. The dread in your stomach made you move slowly, but you knew that no matter how slow you took your steps, you would be in Adam’s arms by nightfall. 

As you waited for the rest of the boys to finish bringing their things to the car, Harrison pulled you aside. 

“Hey, you don’t happen to remember the walk home last night, do you?”

“Oh god, what did I do?”

“Nothing,” he chuckled.

“You wouldn’t have asked if it was nothing.”

“You got me there. It was nothing though, you just got a little upset and I carried you home. You wouldn’t tell me what was going on though, so I was just going to ask if there was something you wanted to talk about.”

He of course was lying, but he wanted to present the chance for you to tell him about your feelings about the move and Adam while you were sober. 

“Oh, well that’s not as bad as you led me to think. But I’m sure I was just emotional drunk. You know how I can get,” You lied right back. 

You knew exactly why you had been upset. You thanked your brain for not letting the truth slip through your loose, intoxicated lips. The last thing you wanted was to let anyone know about that dread in the last stretch. 

Harrison just sadly nodded at your reply and went to grab his belongings. You were too focused on the fact that you had almost blew it to notice his change in demeanor. 

The five of you made your way into the car and set off. The atmosphere felt a lot heavier than the day before. The windows were still down, and the music was just as loud, but no one was singing along anymore. 

Each of you were secretly praying for some kind of halt to the journey. None of you wanted to let go. 

The boys had one more stop planned, and that helped them cheer up a little. It was initially Harry’s idea to ask you to model for him one last time back home. He was going to bring you to one of the spots that he had always wanted to shoot, but the other boys talked him out of it. They said that they would find a better spot along their route for him to stop and take pictures of you. They had said that if he didn’t approve of the spot beforehand, then they would forget about it and he could go on with his original plan, but the second he saw what they had found, he forgot his plan altogether. 

When the car pulled over to the side of the road, you were looking down at your phone. Adam had been texting you all morning, sending you photos of your apartment and asking when you thought you were going to arrive. You, of course, hadn’t had the heart to reply. You were doing your best to pretend like the move wasn’t happening. When you felt the car jerk to a stop, you finally looked up, and the sight before you was enough to make you gasp out an “Oh my god”. You had pulled up to a large field of flowers that stretched farther than you could see in almost every direction. The flowers were all bright and sectioned off in blocks by color. It was a rainbow like you had never seen. 

“You like it?” one of the boys asked, but you were too amazed to respond. Sam got out of the car, allowing you to crawl out as well. You didn’t wait for anyone else as you approached the field. You were too enamored with the sight of the field to notice the boys behind you. Tom was taking full credit for finding the field while Sam helped Harry find all of the equipment that he had packed into the back of the car for this moment. Harrison, however, was busy looking at you. He knew you were too busy admiring the field to turn around and catch him staring, so he let himself truly soak you in. Your smile and wide eyes made his heart swell. The night before, he was happy to see you having a good time again, but he had never seen you this excited about anything. He had to force himself to look away when you shot around and ran back to them. 

You were rapid firing questions to all of them, asking how they had found this place, what you were doing there, and how long you could stay. Tom ended up trying to answer all of your questions, but when he told you that they had brought you there to model for Harry, you attention turned to your former roommate. 

“You should have told me, dipshit! I would have worn something better than this,” you exclaimed, gesturing towards your casual shorts and t-shirt. 

“Y/n, we literally have your entire wardrobe packed into the back of the car, you are perfectly capable of changing in the backseat.”

“I hate you,” you chuckled, but wrapped Harry in a hug anyway. You were too happy to hate him. 

You searched for one of your bags while the boys helped Harry find his camera bag. You found both bags at the same time, and as you searched for the dress you wanted to wear, Harry ventured off to find the spots with the best lighting and angles. 

You jumped into the backseat and changed from your shorts and shirt into the sundress. Luckily the windows were tinted, so if anyone was around, they weren’t able to see you change through the windows, not that anyone was around anyway. 

You exited the back seat and made sure your dress looked fine before you caught up with the rest of the group. Harry was quick to guide you to the first spot he had chosen, and Sam took the role of his grip, making sure reflectors were in place to get the best shot. 

You hadn’t had any experience with real modeling, but that didn’t stop Harry from using you as one of his go to models. That was how you had initially gotten closer to Harrison. You had met him a few times through Tom, but you hadn’t spent any real time with him until the first photoshoot that Harry asked you and Harrison to do for him. That was also the first time you really realized how handsome Harrison was. Of course he was dressed for a photoshoot, and his poses were helping his appeal, but for a few months after that first shoot, you had to hide how flustered he would make you each time he would come around. 

Little did you know, Harrison was thinking about that first shoot as he watched you dance around in the flowers. He fell for you just as you had fallen for him. He had always thought you were adorable, but he didn’t realize how beautiful he thought you were until that first shoot. You were wearing the same dress in that field as you did in that first shoot, and it made him wish he could go back in time. He tried to remain in the moment, he tried to keep a smile on his face, but watching you made him wish that he had gotten a chance with you before you had fallen for Adam. He knew there was nothing he could do about it anymore, but he wanted nothing more than to belong to you. 

The five of you spent a couple hours in the fields of flowers. You had gotten tired of modeling, but Harry wanted to get some shots of just the flowers. 

After the second hour, it was evident how exhausted everyone was, but no one would admit it. Once you were done with that stop, there was nothing else between you and your new home. The dread of the inevitable wasn’t enough to keep you there forever though. As the sun began to get lower in the sky, Tom had reluctantly suggested that you guys head back to the car. You still had to unpack all of your things from the car into the apartment, and the boys were going to try to make the entire drive back over night, although you had insisted that they just stay the night with you. 

Dejectedly, you all made your way back to the car. Harry’s bags were stuffed back into their place, and you all packed into the car. Once you all had your seatbelts on, Harrison started the car, or tried to at least. The engine made a pathetic whirring sound, but it wouldn’t turn over. 

Harrison cursed under his breath and continued to try for another minute, but the sounds just keep getting worse. “Want me to call a tow truck?” you asked from the backseat. Harrison didn’t want to admit defeat, but his frustration was rising. He tried to start it one more time, and you put your hand on his arm to tell him to not worry about it. He melted a little into your touch, but you suddenly had a great idea and your touch disappeared as your arm shot away from him in excitement. 

“Everyone out,” you commanded with a huge smile on your face. Tension and annoyance were still heavy in the atmosphere, but you weren’t going to let it stay that way. Once you were able to get out of the door, you went around to the back of the car and grabbed your picnic blanket and spread it out on a patch of grass. 

“I’ll call for a tow truck in a second, but first, we appreciate nature.”

“Y/n, that’s what we’ve been doing for the past 3 hours,” Harry sighed.

“No, we’ve been walking through a field for 3 hours, but now we’re going to sit, there’s a difference you div.”

The boys all sat on the blanket as you instructed and faced the field. It wasn’t late enough to watch a sunset, but the sun was low enough in the sky to turn the atmosphere golden around the flowers. It was beautiful, and you wouldn’t have been able to see it while in the field. You had to take a step back to really admire it. 

You sat in-between Harry and Harrison, resting your head on Harrison’s shoulder as you admired the flowers. You decided to pull out your phone and call the truck so you weren’t stuck there for too long. You grabbed your phone out of your pocket, and your stomach churned at the sight of the notifications on your screen. There were 6 missed calls from Adam and 15 texts. He was never like that, but from the looks of the last few texts, you knew it wasn’t an emergency so you ignored it. 

Harrison had seen your notifications as well, and was surprised to see you ignore them and carry on to search for the number for a tow truck like Adam didn’t exist. It wasn’t like you to ignore someone like that, especially not your boyfriend. He had been worried about you since the interaction the night before, and this didn’t help that. He knew something really had to be wrong for you to flat out ignore him. 

When you called for the tow truck, they said they would be there in 15 minutes, and that they were going to send out a second truck so they could bring everyone to the shop. After you told the boys, the rest of the wait was spent in silence, admiring the field in front of you. 

When the trucks arrived, you watched as they hitched Harrison’s car before you got into one of the trucks with Harry. Within 15 minutes, you were sat in the shop as they worked on the car. They said it would be an easy fix and you should be out of there in an hour or two. 

This had been the delay that you had been hoping for, there was no way you were going to be able to make it to Adam that night. You were going to be with your friends for one more night, and you had never been more thankful for a shitty car. 

The five of you sat waiting, making terrible jokes to pass the time. Tom had found a hotel not far from the shop for you guys to stay the night, but you had forgotten to inform Adam of the delay. It would have completely escaped your mind if he hadn’t have called while you were sitting there. 

Your phone began to buzz in your lap, and you ignored it on instinct, but Harrison noticed. 

“Your phone’s ringing,” he pointed out, making you snap into reality. You looked down to see Adam’s contact information on the screen. Now that someone else’s attention was on it, you couldn’t exactly ignore the call, so you cursed under your breath before you excused yourself to take the call outside. 

“Where are you? I’ve been calling for hours,” Adam began, worriedly without so much as a hello as soon as you hit the answer button.

“Hey, Adam, sorry. The car broke down and we’re in the shop right now. I don’t think we’re going to make it tonight.”

“Well, I could come get you. Just need to tell me where you are.”

“That’s really not necessary. I can just finish the drive tomorrow.”

“Will you though?”

His voice suddenly sounded colder than you had ever heard it, more accusing than you had ever been spoken to. It caught you completely off-guard. 

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, is this really about the car?”

“What do you want me to walk the rest of the way?”

“Picking you up would be no hassle, so why don’t you want me to?”

“Adam, all I’m saying is that there was an unexpected delay. One night isn’t the end of the world.”

“First it was the lease, then it was this idiotic road trip with your idiot friends, now it’s the car, so what is it going to be tomorrow? Are you going to get lost in town? You’re putting off coming, y/n.”

“And why would I be doing that?”

You knew he was right, but there was no way you were going to let him have that satisfaction. 

“I don’t know, why don’t you tell me.”

“It’s not what I’m doing, so I couldn’t tell you.”

“Whatever, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

With that, Adam hung up. He had never done so without saying he loved you first. That wasn’t what upset you most though. He had never liked your friends, but he had never insulted them. He had suggested you not do certain things with them, or to stay with him instead of going out with them some nights, but he had never called them idiots. And the fact that he was accusing you of not wanting to come upset you too, although deep down, you knew he was right. You were ready to angry cry, but before you could even react to the phone call, Harrison opened the door behind you. 

“Hey, everything alright?”

He had seen your facial expression through the window while the rest of the boys were distracted, and he almost wished he hadn’t looked. You looked broken, and he couldn’t stay put. It took all of his strength to not run out and hug you. Instead, he calmly made his way out to check on you. 

“Everything’s fine, why?”

“You, uhm, looked pretty upset on the phone.”

“Oh, that. Yeah, Adam is just a little annoyed that I won’t be there tonight, but it’s not a big deal.”

He nodded, but you didn’t see because you were doing your best to avoid eye contact. You were afraid you would cry if you looked up, and the last thing you wanted in that moment was for Harrison to see you cry. 

“Do you need a hug?” he asked, still not convinced that anything was ok in the moment. 

“I don’t need one, but I could never pass up a hug from you,” you giggled. He smiled and wrapped you in the tightest hug he could muster. He was less worried with you in his arms. 

In that moment, he decided that he wasn’t going to waste one more second of what little time he had left with you. He came up with a plan on how to make it a night you would never forget. You both needed it. 

[zonebunny]

Hello, Old Girl

AKA the moment when Party Poison finds the Trans AM 

Puffing his freshly-dyed hair out of his eyes, Party Poison’s features are punctured by a wince as he hauls himself out of the deep pit he’d been exploring for the last twenty minutes or so; letting out a heavy sigh of defeat.

“Nope, just junk over here! Any luck over at your end, Kiddo?”

“Just a load of ol’ papers!”

The Fab Four were currently standing in the middle of the scrapyard that spread out from Zone 1 and way out beyond as far as the eye could see; almost touching the border of Zone 2. This huge junkyard was where everything Better Living Industries couldn’t stand the sight of usually ended up - hence why the Killjoys were stood in the middle of it. For scavengers like themselves, this was practically a goldmine on some good days; but on others like today, their luck ran out and their hopeful searches came up empty.

It also didn’t help that today was one of the hottest days of the summer, and when you were out in the middle of the desert that certainly wasn’t a very comfortable experience to be out in, let alone working. The Killjoys had only been out scavenging for about an hour or so and they were already badly sunburnt, filthy and starving hungry, each carrying a pitifully-empty sack each.

“Ugh, this is fuckin’ pointless! All I’ve found is a few shitty pieces of scrapmetal, and they’ll only get a couple of carbons each if we’re lucky!” 

A whine to Poison’s left made him squint up at the shorter figure hunched over one of the more towering junkpiles, the scarlet-haired leader raising his hand up to shield his eyes as he focuses on Fun Ghoul, who was waving his bag in the air to emphasise his statement; the contents clinking against each other dully.

“Whatcha find? Droid parts?”

“Yeah; got a few batteries and what looks like part of a hand - actually, might be a foot…” As Ghoul speaks, he looks into the depths of his bag and tilts his head at an odd angle to examine his finds, frowning in distaste. “What a shit haul.”

“Hey, don’t give up hope yet. At least you didn’t get oil in your hair…” Another voice pipes up as the figure of Jet Star appears from behind what looked like the remains of an old refrigerator, the wild-haired Killjoy tugging at his ‘fro to prove that his hair was in fact matted with old oil, his face screwed-up in disgust.

“Yikes. That’ll suck trying to get that out of your hair…”

Kobra Kid finally rejoins the group, and like Ghoul he was holding a rather empty sack in his right hand. Jet’s sat on top of the fridge, containing a burnt-out toaster that he figured he might be able to salvage some parts from and a few stray half-empty battery packs. Poison had been the most successful so far, with a handful of old records he’d found at the bottom of an old box of Murder magazines and a couple of BLI-issued blasters that he reckoned he’d be able to polish up and paint for commissions.

“The sun’s gonna start getting low soon. Wanna call it a day or keep on at it?” Kid suggests, looking to his brother for answers - as leader, it was his call. As Poison dusts his hands off on his already-filthy jeans, he glances between his friends; noticing how weary and exhausted they all looked. It had been a tough day for them all.

“We’ll finish up here for the day, then check out that ghost-town nearby that Doc told us about the other day. Pony reckons that it’s been untouched, and I sure want first-dibs on anything decent we can find.” Poison states, the other three nodding eagerly in agreement - they were keen to finish up and head home as soon as possible.

After another hour of thorough scavenging, the Killjoys finally admit defeat as they haul their sacks of scrapmetal and other trading goods back to Show Pony’s van, ready to hit the road again and explore this desert-town. Once their finds had been stashed safely in the back of the van, the Fab Four pile on into it and settle down for the journey; Jet Star climbing behind the wheel with Kid sitting up in front beside him.

With a low groan, Poison slides himself down the side of the van and spreads his legs out in front of him; looking like a broken toy puppet. Ghoul mimics his pose across from him, tucking his knees up to his chest and resting his back against the cold metal of the van’s door, rubbing the back of his aching neck and wincing.

“Fuck, I got burnt bad…”

“I got some aloe vera in my bag!” Jet calls over his shoulder, waving to Kid to go get it. Kobra does so instantly, ducking down and pulling the brown satchel up into his lap and proceeding to fumble around in it until he found what he was looking for; the cutting of aloe vera that Jet carried on him practically at all times. Kid holds out the green stalk to Ghoul, who accepts it eagerly and squeezes the end of it to make it ooze sap.

“Oh, thank Destroya.” Ghoul sighs out happily in relief as he rubs the end of the plant along the back of his neck, his expression one of pure bliss. The look on his face was almost erotic, which causes Poison to go pink and quickly look down - he could easily picture that same look on Ghoul’s face when he was doing something else…

“You alright, Poise? You’ve been pretty quiet today…” Kobra then pipes up, turning around in his seat and folding his arms over the back of it so he could see and talk to his big brother. Poison couldn’t help a small smile appear on his face at the sight of Kid - the sun looked good on him, his features flushed and tan beneath the smears of dirt and oil on his baby brother’s face. Kid’s shades were now balanced on his bright blonde hair, which was all messed-up over his forehead from working all day.

“Yeah, I’m alright. Just wish we could’ve gotten a better haul than we did…” Poison shrugs, letting out a low sigh through his nose. There had been days when they’d found so much good stuff that they’d had a struggle getting it all to fit in the van to take home; it made the huddle of sacks in the corner now look even more pitiful in comparison.

“It’s alright, man; it’s like you said - good days and bad days…” Ghoul pipes up, smiling reassuringly and holding out the cutting of aloe vera to Poison; he’d burned his hand on the top of the bumper of a wrecked-up car earlier on. With little smile of gratitude, Poison accepts the cutting and smears the cooling gel-like sap over the shiny red burn running along his thumb and down towards the middle of his palm, wincing as it starts to tingle.

“Hey, we might get lucky at this place! Ponyboy sounded excited.” Jet comments, his eyes still fixed on the road ahead. Ghoul laughs at this, rolling his eyes.

“Pony gets excited over everything, Starman. It’s part of what makes them so...well, Pony.”

“Got that right.” Kid agrees, smiling fondly at the thought of their fabulous sparkly friend back at the Diner, who was currently looking after the Girl while the Fab Four were out scavenging. They made the best babysitter.

“Let’s just hope they’re right…” Poison murmurs, a hopeful look in his eyes as he turns his gaze out the back windows of the van as he watches the Zones zip past behind them; dust billowing into the air in their wake.

                                                  ==============

As Jet pulls the van up to the rotting gates of the town, the Killjoys peer through the window at their surroundings in both curiosity and caution - the place sure was abandoned alright, which gave it that creepy haunted vibe that made them feel like they were being watched, though the only life around aside from them were a few scraggly stray desert cats that prowled about and watched them exit the van with wide lamp-like eyes, before scurrying away back into the shadows.

“Stick close - any sign of trouble, shout.” Poison murmurs to the others once they bundle out of the van, his hand resting over his holster where the handle of his yellow blaster stuck out. The others nod curtly before they disband, heading in different directions in order to spread out and cover more ground quickly.

As Ghoul makes his way towards what appeared to be the old town hall and Kid towards the nearest run-down store, Jet remains on the main street while Poison ventures off towards a row of old houses - by the looks of things, the people who once lived here simply dropped everything and disappeared. There were a number of old rusted cars littered about the street, so as Jet started exploring them Poison makes his way towards a house with a front porch and cracked windows; the front door hanging off his hinges.

Something had been here, definitely; but it was impossible to tell if it had been fellow Killjoys or desert-dwellers or Draculoids. As Poison carefully steps onto the first creaky step of the patio, his hand comes to rest firmly over the handle of his blaster as he peers into the depths of the house through the broken windows - or what remained of them, anyway.

Tattered curtains drifted ghost-like in the hot desert wind as Poison slowly steps past the threshold, sand crunching under his feet. The winds had blown sand and desert debris right into the interior of the house, the carpets now looking more like a beach than flooring. However, Poison spies a few cupboards that looked pretty promising and so quickly gets to work; pulling them open and rummaging inside.

Pony had been partially right; he doubted that Killjoys had been here, as there was plenty of supplies and items that they wouldn’t have just left behind. However, he had a suspicion that perhaps some Waveheads might have used this place as a pit-stop at some point once. It made sense; the town was a perfect suntrap, and the way there had been furniture littered about the street gave Poison the idea that a group might have stopped by here while in the search for a hit - those junkies would follow the sun even when it set if they could.

That would explain why so many abandoned belongings still remained here; Waveheads didn’t care for material items.

The chest of drawers Poison was now looking through was proving to be already much more successful than the scavenging site - he was finding jewellry, old photos, papers, books. Anything of trade value or personal interest he slipped into the open sack at his feet, pleased to see it gradually swelling in size; especially when he comes across a whole rack of jackets and shoes, some of which would clean up rather nicely with some TLC.

As Poison passes through to the kitchen, he follows his reflection on every mirrored surface - he felt like such an intruder into this home, despite the fact it certainly hadn’t been a home in a very long time. His gaze then lingers on a countertop that was littered with picture-frames, depicting the same family - a mother, father, and two sons.

Poison felt a hard lump suddenly form in his throat as he slowly extends his hand towards the frame taking centreplace, which was the largest photo of the lot - a cracked and faded portrait of the two sons, two brothers. The oldest was blonde, the youngest was brunette; they both looked to be no older than between ten and twelve years old.

Poison then wondered what had happened to them; what had caused this family to suddenly leave their entire lives behind, to run away. He couldn’t understand why he was feeling so odd about this - he didn’t know these people, they were strangers. He figured he was feeling so strange because it was most likely that they were dead now, and this was all that remained of them - the only proof that they ever existed…

Quickly shaking it off, Poison sets the photo down again and looks away; no, don’t think about it too much. You’re here for a reason.

With a low sigh, Poison rearranges the sack he was carrying over his shoulder and slips into the kitchen, setting the sack down again at his feet with a low grunt before starting to rummage through the cupboards. To his dismay, they were mostly empty, but he did manage to find some pots and pans and utensils that would still come in handy, so into the sack they went. Just as he loops a frying-pan to the outside of the bag, Poison’s eyes then linger on an object lying in a decorative bowl on the kitchen table; his eyes widening in realisation.

Keys. Car keys.

And where there’s car keys, there may be a working car…

Excitement bubbling up inside him, Poison picks up the keys and gazes down at them sitting in the palm of his hand for a second; his thumb brushing against the grooves of the main key. Could he really get so lucky…?

Picking up his bag as quickly as he could, Poison’s eyes dart around the room and he spies a backdoor at the end of the hallway; that sure looked promising. Figuring that he couldn’t really carry much else and that he could always return to this place to explore further if needed, Poison pads silently down the hallway and nudges open the backdoor with his shoulder, which to his delight led straight out to what he could see what appeared to be a garage.

Oh please, please, please…

Almost stumbling over his boots in eagerness, Poison sets his sack down at his feet again as his eyes scan over the garage door, looking for a way to open it. At the bottom he sees a padlock, and at first he curses; thinking he’d reached a dead-end. But then he remembers the keys and quickly pulls them back out of his pocket, and with a jolt of excitement he sees that it does have a smaller key that looks like it could work out with this padlock rather nicely…

Taking a deep breath, Poison kneels down and carefully starts to fumble with the padlock; feeling shock vibrate through his bones when the key actually fits. He then takes a step back logically, calming himself down - he shouldn’t get his hopes up, after all. There was a very slim chance that there could be anything behind this metal door…

Not wasting a second longer - and unable to wait - Party Poison unlocks the padlock and takes hold of the door, sliding it upwards. Poison immediately wafts away the dust that had clouded up into the air as he does so, coughing quietly, and as sunlight filters into the interior of the garage for the first time in years, Poison takes a careful step forward and squints inside - and when he sees the sight that met him he stumbles back a step in shock; his eyes as wide as saucers.

Under a grey tarpaulin lay a large object that dominated the majority of the room; a big, car-shaped object.

Trembling in awe and excitement, Poison manages to unfreeze as he slowly steps inside; wandering around the back of the object in an almost trance-like state. This thing was huge, and by the shape under the protective tarpaulin, it certainly wasn’t anything like the lumps of scrapmetal rusting outside on the main street.

Poison then reaches forward, grabs hold of a handful of the plastic, and pulls.

As the protective layer rustles loudly as it starts to slide off the vehicle, when Poison sees the words revealed on the back he freezes up again as if he’d been stunned by a Draculoid, stumbling back a step in shock; TRANS AM.

No. Fucking. Way.

And the next thing Party Poison knew, he was standing in front of a 1979 Pontiac Firebird Trans AM. In perfect condition. Not a scratch on it’s pristine white surface.

“Holy shit…” Poison’s hushed voice seemed so loud as it echoes off the walls of the garage, extending a trembling hand to touch the bodywork of the magnificent vehicle before him; to check if it was really real. Feeling the cool metal beneath his palm, a wide slightly-crazed grin spreads over Poison’s features as his hand flies to his belt; scrambling for his communicator.

“Guys! Guys, you’ll never guess what I’ve fucking found - I’m around the back of the blue house off of Main, come and get me!” Poison hisses excitedly into the speaker, hearing the crackle of static follow for a second before a familiar voice replies through the airwaves - Ghoul.

“Oh c’mon Poise, I’m almost on the other side of town! Just spill!”

“No, you have to come see! Over and out.” Poison abruptly clicks off the channel as he clips the communicator back onto his belt; his eyes drinking in the entirety of the Trans AM eagerly, as if he were afraid it would vanish into thin air.

Poison hadn’t believed in love at first sight; not until now.

Dust crunches under Poison’s feet as he eases his way around the side of the Trans AM, not taking his eyes off of its sleek surface as he manoeuvres his way towards the driver’s seat, wanting to inspect his discovery closer. He couldn’t believe his luck; he had no idea how this family could have owned such a vehicle, let alone just left it here to rot. It was unlike any car he’d ever seen - and although Poison had to admit, he wasn’t exactly a pro on cars, he’d definitely heard of a Trans AM before - it was as almost as iconic as the DeLorean. It looked pretty similar, too, as the overall shape definitely reminded him of it.

Shielding his eyes from the setting sun, Poison leans in and peers inside through the window; praying that he wasn’t going to discover the remains of the family inside. Thankfully, he didn’t; the car was totally vacant, not so much as a child’s car-seat or a pair of fluffy-dice hanging from the wing-mirror in sight.

Poison came to the conclusion that this definitely hadn’t been the family car; it was much too pristine, unless this family had been a serious bunch of neat-freaks. He figured that this must’ve been the dad’s pride and joy, which he’d chosen to keep out of the harsh sun.

Poison then felt a pang of sadness; a car like this didn’t deserve to be locked away, kept in the dark. She deserved to be out on the road, speeding through the Zones, exploring their world…

“You beauty…” Poison breathes out loud as he spies the interior - brown leather seats, black harnesses. This car definitely had a history - one that Poison was eager to discover.

Just as Poison made to unlock the door, two sets of footsteps could be heard approaching; causing Poison to snap his head up and rest his hand over his holster. But when he heard his own name being called by a familiar voice - Kobra - he relaxes, a smug smile creeping onto his face.

“Over here! ‘Round the back, guys!”

Seconds later, a flustered Jet Star and Kobra Kid jog around the corner and come to an abrupt halt when they see what Poison had found; Kid’s expression falling into one of utter shock and amazement beneath his shades while Jet’s jaw literally drops open at the sight of the Trans, his eyes bulging out of their sockets.

“Is that…?”

“It sure is! And she’s all mine!” Poison grins like a madman, patting the hood of the Trans AM fondly as the other two approach, their eyes flickering over the bumper of the car in awe.

“How on earth did you come across this?” Jet then exclaims, walking around the passenger side and taking a peek in through the back window. “Dude, she must be worth a fortune! Look at that condition - she looks like she’s barely seen the sun!”

“I know…” Poison’s expression suddenly softens, turning his gaze back to the car as he rests his hand over the handle; hesitating just as the incoming footsteps signalled Ghoul’s arrival. 

“But that’s all gonna change, hey ol’ girl? She’s coming home with us…”