#and all the burger boxes are singing along

[vigilante-3073]

Love Story

Dean Winchester x Female Reader

Summary: Reader gets Dean a very special birthday present.

TW: FLUFF, pre-established relationship, Dean's secret obsession with Taylor Swift, concerts, extravagant gestures.

Dean's 43th birthday had been celebrated in the bunker with friends and family. Everyone had either gone home or made their way into one of the empty rooms to spend the night after the many beers and shots that were shared.

The table was covered in scattered empty pizza boxes and pie tins. Dean moved around the room, stuffing the trash into a garbage bag.

"You know, you don't have clean up after your own party," Y/N said, making her way over to him.

"Someone's gotta," Dean said, "Might as well get it out of the way before morning," He shrugged, dropping another paper plate into the bag.

"Can you take a break? I have something for you," Y/N said, pulling a white envelope from the back pocket of her jeans.

"You didn't have to get me anything, sweetheart," Dean sighed, setting down the garage bag and stepping over to her.

"You deserve it," Y/N said, holding out the envelope.

Dean took it from her hands, carefully tearing the it open and peering inside. He reached into the envelope and pulled out two shimmering tickets.

He stared down at them, thumb tracing over the surface carefully as Y/N watched him. She shifted on her feet as she tried to gauge his reaction.

"Are these real?" He asked softly, green eyes meeting with her's.

"Yeah," Y/N replied with a nervous smile.

He stepped forward, pulling her into his arms quickly. Dean held her tightly as a wide smile spread across his face, "This is amazing," He laughed.

She wrapped her arms around him, "Are you happy?" Y/N asked.

He pulled away, "Happy? Are you kidding? We're going to the Eras Tour! I'm over the freakin' moon!" Dean said.

Y/N laughed, "I left your VIP package on your bed. Go check it out while I finish up here," She said, tilting her head towards the messy table.

"Baby, you are- you are awesome," Dean said, cupping her cheeks and pressing his lips to her's in a quick kiss.

"I love you so damn much, sweetheart. We're going to see Taylor Swift! Hell yeah!" Dean grinned, rushing off down the hallway.

...

Dean had been eagerly anticipating the concert since his birthday. The usual silence in the bunker had quickly been replaced by the nearly continuous sound of Taylor Swift's discography. He was determined to know all the words to every song before their concert.

Dean had even insisted on dressing up and making friendship bracelets to share with other concert-goers. His costume was relatively simple, a plain white shirt with the word 'karma' written across the chest in red sparkly letters. The color matched perfectly with Y/N's dress and boots.

Dean and Y/N packed their bags before they made the trip down to Nashville, blasting Taylor Swift's music and singing along the whole way.

They checked into their hotel room on the day of the concert. Feeling jittery and excited as they ate an early dinner of takeout burgers before starting to get ready. Dean had put on his shirt before laying down in bed to watch television while Y/N finished up her hair and makeup in the bathroom.

He flipped through the channels, looking over as Y/N stepped out of the bathroom. Her hair and makeup were done, skin sparkling under the dim motel lights. He tossed the remote aside, focusing solely on his beautiful girlfriend.

Dean whistled, "You look phenomenal, baby," He said, eyes running over her body. The bright red sparkly dress hugged her curves perfectly and the boots of the same color glittered with small gems.

"Thank you," She smiled, spinning in a circle to show off the outfit in its entirety.

"Gorgeous," He grinned, standing up from the bed and making his way over.

Dean unbuttoned his shirt, holding open the flannel to display his t-shirt.

Her smile widened, arms wrapping around him as she leaned into his body, "Karma is my boyfriend," She sighed happily.

He leaned down, pressing his lips to her's in a slow and passionate kiss. Dean's hands found her hips, pulling her body closer before reluctantly breaking off the kiss.

"I love you so damn much," He said.

"I know," Y/N smiled.

...

The stadium was dark, the music was loud and the lights were flashing as people screamed out the words to every song. Everyone was dressed to the nines in bright colors and clever costumes, covered in glitter and gems that shimmered under the lights.

The smile hadn't left Dean's face since the first song and he couldn't imagine being anywhere else.

He had traded enough friendship bracelets to have both of his forearms lined with colorful beads. Dean would keep a few for himself, but the rest were for his girl and maybe one for Cas.

His arm was wrapped securely around Y/N's waist as they belted out the lyrics to Love Story. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head and she looked up at him with a smile.

Dean leaned down, pressing a quick kiss to her lips before pulling away. His hand slipped into the front pocket of his jeans, grasping the velvet ring box. Dean pulled it out, flipping the lid open and sliding his arm from around her waist as he turned to face her. Dean got down on one knee between the rows of chairs, holding up the ring. People around him screamed, pulling out their phones to record the moment.

Y/N looked over, eyes widening before her hands flew to her mouth, "Will you marry me, baby?" He asked loudly. Her eyes glossed over with tears as she nodded hastily.

Dean stood up, allowing her to pull him into his arms as happy tears rolled down her cheeks. She pulled away slightly, pressing her lips to his in a passionate kiss.

Dean pulled away, smiling down at her before plucking the ring from the box and sliding it onto her finger. He pulled her into his arms again, holding her tightly as the song came to an end.

"I love you so much, baby," He said.

"I love you too," She replied, pulling him closer.

...

The women sitting in the row behind them had asked for Y/N's cellphone number and sent their videos of Dean's proposal to her. She was overjoyed to have videos to remember such an important moment and watched the recordings before they even made it out of the stadium.

It was strange watching everyone dissipate from the stadium, making the streets brighter with their costumes while leaving jewels and glitter everywhere they went.

Dean and Y/N held hands as they walked down the street towards their motel room after the concert had concluded. The night had been an absolute dream. It was definitely an experience that they would remember for the rest of their lives.

Dean couldn't think of a time when he had been happier.

No hunting. No danger.

Just him and his girlfriend.

Correction, him and his fiancée.

Y/N video called Sam as they walked down the sidewalk, the line rang twice before he picked up.

"Hey, how was it?" Sam asked, sitting up in his bed.

"Amazing, best concert of my entire life," Dean said.

"Yes! She was fantastic and just absolutely amazing. Best night ever! Taylor Swift is just-" "Iconic," Dean stated, "Yes, iconic," Y/N agreed.

He leaned in and pressed a kiss to her temple as they walked, "We got some other news, Sammy," Dean said, smiling down at his fiancée.

"Is your news about how much you spent on concert merchandise? Because I don't want to know if it is," Sam said.

"We're engaged!" Y/N said, holding up her left hand for him to see.

"Are you serious? Is this real?" Sam asked, a wide smile spreading across his face.

"It's real. We're gettin' hitched," Dean said proudly.

"Congratulations, guys. This is amazing! Wait, when did you do it? Did you propose during the concert?" Sam asked.

"During the song Love Story like an awesome fiancé," Dean grinned.

"Some women behind us recorded it and sent me their videos. I'll show you when we get home," Y/N said.

"Alright, have a good night you guys. Get home safe and congratulations again," Sam said.

"Thank you, Sam," Y/N said.

"Have a good night, Sammy," Dean called.

Y/N ended the call, tucking her cellphone into her pocket. She squeezed Dean's hand and he looked over at her to find her staring up at him with a wide smile.

"What?" He asked, a smirk slowly spreading across his face.

"Nothing, just that I only bought this dress so you could take it off," Y/N said casually.

Dean's eyebrows rose, "You flirting with me while referencing Taylor Swift is probably the hottest thing I've ever heard," Dean stated.

"Good," She grinned.

[rottenpumpkin13]

How would SOLDIER carpool karaoke turn out?

Carpool Karaoke

• For the sake of publicity, ShinRa thinks it's a good idea to have the First Class trio + Zack participate in a talk show's segment of Carpool Karaoke.

• The bit starts off entertaining enough, with the host pulling into the Shinra HQ's main entrance and picking up his passengers.

• Not even a full minute into the segment and Sephiroth and Genesis are arguing over who gets to ride shotgun. This escalates into a fistfight.

• Angeal breaks them up and makes the decision to ride up front and place Sephiroth and Genesis in the back. He puts Zack in the middle seat to separate them.

• The host starts asking questions about their daily life, making small-talk, prodding them about juicy rumors.

• And then he puts on a song he thinks all four of them will enjoy. It's some over-the-top pop hit that everyone knows—think Uptown Funk.

• All is well and the boys are singing EXCEPT for Sephiroth. He looks flat-out bored and unamused. The camera keeps zooming in on his face every now and then his expression keeps getting more and more hilarious.

• And then the host suggests they lift his spirit and pulls into the MidgarBurger drive-thru. Zack wants a kiddie meal combo with a toy, Genesis wants an order of fries and chicken tenders, Angeal wants a monster burger.

Sephiroth: I would like one of each hamburger.

Everyone: What?

Sephiroth: Did I stutter?

• And so they drive off with Sephiroth and his 38 hamburger boxes in the backseat. At least he looks happy.

• Next up the host asks Angeal what their daily life is like, and how they all became friends.

• Angeal goes on to explain that he and Genesis were childhood friends, how they met Sephiroth and later Zack, and how they all get along so well and rarely ever argue.

• While he explains this the camera films the backseat, where Sephiroth and Genesis are arguing because Genesis tried to nick one of Sephiroth's burgers. Sephiroth retaliated by squirting ketchup at Genesis, so now the two are screaming at each other while Zack frantically blows the tiny whistle that came with his toy.

• Next song! They're all singing along to Everybody (backstreet boys). Genesis gets too excited.

Genesis: 🎶 Am I original?

Everyone: 🎶 Ye-ah.

Genesis: 🎶 Am I the only one?

Everyone: 🎶 Ye-ah.

Genesis: 🎶 Am I sexual?

Sephiroth: NO.

• Before the host drops them off at the base, he asks them one last juicy question.

Host: What's one secret that you guys have been keeping from each other?

Sephiroth: Last new year's eve, I drunkenly stumbled back to the dormitories in the pitch black darkness. On my way there, I encountered a mysterious woman and kissed her.

Angeal: Wow, that's insane. My secret is that one time I used boxed mashed potatoes for a dinner party.

Zack: One time I accidentally ate dog food thinking it was cereal.

Genesis: I was the mysterious woman Sephiroth kissed.

• Sephiroth flies into a murderous rage and they have to stop the car immediately.

[kylieswift31]

Who’s going to troll you like Taylor Swift..?

And why she's gay.

Taylor has told us time and again that she sees herself as a lonely millennial woman living in a cabin in the woods with her cats. And she's also told us that she will do anything to prove a point. Well it turns out she might have been trolling us from the very beginning.

This is going to be both a light hearted look at the Easter eggs Taylor has left along the way, as well as a more serious attempt to understand the deeper meaning behind it too.

"I tell lies!"

During the Jimmy Fallon box of lies skit, you pick out a box off the shelf and try to bluff the opponent whist describing the boxes contents. It's no surprise Taylor picked out the numbers 1 and 3, and Jimmy picked out number 5. They’re her favourite numbers, but the connection to what was in the boxes have some fun surprises. 

Taylor opened up the first box to reveal a pair of binoculars with corn in each end and a lanyard that says 'I can see corn'. This is a reference to the pair of binoculars from the picture to burn music video.

Taylor lied about what the item was, excitedly saying that it was a wizards of Waverley place DVD with a weird ribbon around it that says I see corn. Claiming she was doing a double bluff. The corn is a reference to the tinkerbell character played by Julia Roberts. There I so much we could read into this but I'll let you use your imagination.

Jimmy chose the number 5 box and was pretending it was too heavy to carry, a reference to the sadder track 5 songs. He pulled out a diorama of Chewbacca from Star Wars who was taking a bug for a walk on a leash through the park. Taylor has recently swallowed a few bugs during the eras tour, but upon further research I found this is a joke from the good will hunting movie. When a hot girl walks up, Will's friend claims he'd swallowed a bug to cover up his erection.

The lie Jimmy told about the item is that it was a family of pinecones playing trouble. He talks about sheet music and how they're playing the song. If you look closely you'll see a rubber chicken that makes the sound of the goat associated with the viral song.

The final box Taylor opens is number 3. It's a grey book with grimace on the front, with a tab on the side to open it. Inside there's a couple of holes cut with a burger and fries in the hole.

She describes that the book is a biography written by a fuzzy monster with seal hands, and then says that grimace the purple monster is on the cover. Jimmy believes she's telling the truth. But the way she described him at first reveals grimace wasn't the only monster she was talking about.

Both of Taylor's boxes mention Selena Gomez. A few of her previous roles match the style of the book Taylor described. And she was also in the Disney games, which is very UNO coloured game show.

But the interesting thing is that the purple monster referenced matches the description of both grimace and barney. Funnily enough Selena was also on the Barney show too.

“I’m not loving it”

Taylor really is a millennial, but out of all the references to the 90's I wasn't expecting to find so many connections to Mc Donalds. A big part of the happy meals and toys that came with them was the characters on the boxes.

Taylor has showed us that she will go a long way to prove people are wrong. The first guitar she learned to play had twelve strings instead of six out of defiance. Her debut album and early unreleased music reveal how she's not afraid to sing about revenge.

The removal of the "you're gay" line from picture to burn hints at how Taylor wasn't afraid to be herself, but with increased success and fame it was removed and her pop star persona was created to appear more likeable by the masses.

What would be more iconic that seeking revenge through the most recognised brand in the world? She has taken the concept of her Tim McGraw song about how every time they hear it they're going to associate the song with her, and taken it further than ever.

This connects the fearless, speak now and red era together with the colour and costumed outfits. This seems to be a dig at her old management for the way she had to be closeted, but also a way to represent her identity. This is Taylor's Version of queer flagging.

We're still seeing references to these characters and colour combinations on the eras tour. The midnights set references the monster on the hill, we have the giant Taylor looking like Godzilla walking around the city and the purple fur coat for lavender haze.

But the reason why she wears these now is not because of Grimace but because of Barney. Taylor's use of purple glitter connects to this too. Purple is the new Taylor's Version.

"My life under the golden arches"

The red and yellow that is currently associated with Taylor and Travis being endgame is no accident. There's a strong theme of red and golden love throughout Taylor's work. And it all comes down to this...

The golden arches of the McDonalds logo create an M. If you flip the M it becomes a W. The songs about Men have always been talking about Women. Just look at how many times Taylor's sang maroon.

"Put narcotics into all of my songs

And that's why you're singing along."

And she's been telling us this since the very beginning!

13 has been her lucky number for a reason. The one for her microphone and the three for the women she loves. Taylor has always been gay, she's just watered down the Wine so we can drink it.

There are two Friday the 13th's this year that everyone is eagerly anticipating. This would be too predictable of a move, after all.

If Taylor is the 🎃 anon then what better time than October the 31st to reclaim her favourite numbers?

A tortured poet,

Kylie x

[maybankiara]

MISTER, I'LL TAKE HER ROSES

pairing: JJ Maybank x Kiara Carrera summary: JJ offers to pick up Kiara from the airport, despite only having spoken to her once before, years ago. Long drives, country music, diner burgers, and some sunsets await for them. w/c: 7k a/n: i have returned from the dead with this. jj-centric, as i tend to write, and some fluff sprinkled in with pining, of course, because it's jiara we're talking about. masterlist | tag list read on archive of our own

It's situations like these that JJ gets himself into, then regrets, purely because of one thing: his mouth is quicker than his brain.

And boy, does JJ Maybank love to put himself at other people's expense.

With one hand on the wheel and the other hanging outside the driver's window of his pickup truck ( Baby , he calls it, because she's his everything), JJ sings along to some Zak Brown song that's playing on the radio, and wonders how the fuck did he manage to find himself driving for hours, away from the setting sun, with a bouquet of roses in his backseat for a girl he hadn't thought of in years.

The song changes to a Kylie Morgan one and he turns it down, just a little bit. Another pickup truck passes him -- it's the first sign of life he'd seen for miles. Charleston is still some time away, and JJ's got nothing but time to kill.

Four hours ago, he was dropping off fresh packages of beef mince in the back of The Wreck. He was wearing his oil-stained sweatpants because all the others were in the wash, and he wasn't wearing a top, because it was one of those days that burn into your skin if you're not careful enough. He's just lucky (or unlucky, depending on how you look at it) that his skin's been burnt enough it doesn't change anymore.

'You're kidding,' said Mike, the owner, speaking into the phone he held to his face with more ferocity than JJ would've been comfortable with if he was on the other end of the line. 'I can't have that ready for tomorrow morning.'

JJ passed him and placed another box in the warehouse, wiping the sweat off his brow. He gave a wave to Cleo, one of the servers, who was helping him move stuff to the fridge.

'Your boss is having a bad day,' he said.

Cleo scoffed. 'He's always having a bad day.'

'No, like, really .'

They both stood in their place for a few moments as Mike argued outside, something about accounts and a tax return that didn't seem to be correct.

JJ pointed a thumb over his back, in Mike's direction. 'That's why I don't have an office job.'

'Or own a shop,' said Cleo.

'Exactly. You good to get the rest?'

'Mhm, I'll get this to the fridge, you bring the last over and I'll get it signed off if Mike can't.'

'Ha. Think he's a bit too busy for that.'

JJ went past Mike again (he was talking about having something important to do tonight which was why the whole thing was an even bigger issue) and brought the remaining two boxes out of the Heyward truck. His truck, in a way -- despite him saying to Cleo he doesn't want to own a shop or have an office job, things were headed in that direction, with Heyward having the vision of both expanding the trade to the other islands in the Outer Banks and leaving the shop to JJ and Pope to handle.

It was a lot to think about. Meaning, JJ wanted nothing to do with it, right now.

He scooped up the boxes and nodded at Mike in the passing ('I've planned everything to pick her up tonight. I'm not leaving her waiting for me for this. It's important---No, you listen to me !') and brought the last to Cleo, all the way to the fridge.

'Who's he picking up tonight?'

'You need to stop being up in everybody's business.' Cleo took the boxes from him and stood all the way on her tiptoes to reach the highest shelf. 'It's Kiara. She's coming back from the Bahamas, or wherever she was doing her environmental stuff.'

'Oh. Kiara,' JJ said, letting the name wash over his tongue. 'I hadn't thought of her in years.'

Cleo threw a glance at the door, where all JJ could see was Mike's hand waving up and down as if the person on the phone could see him. She leaned over, checking that none of the other staff are within the hearing range, and said: 'Rumour has it that she's cut all ties with her family for years and is now coming back, tail between her legs.'

JJ scoffed. That didn't sound like the Kiara he knew, so he said that. Cleo just shrugged, reminding him that she'd moved to Kildare right before Kiara left. Anything could be true, if you asked her.

He liked to think he knew better.

With that being the last of the boxes, JJ bid his farewell to his kind-of-friend. She had signed off the paperwork for the restaurant, but JJ still needed a signature from Mike, seeing as he was the most senior person here. This is, in JJ's opinion, the very moment that got him into this situation.

He overheard little bits before that, but standing next to Mike as he signed off the paperwork while talking to the person on the phone, JJ couldn't help but to listen in. He also happened to piece it all together, even if against his will.

Kiara Carrera was returning to Kildare after years away, tonight, in Charleston, and now there was no one to pick her up.

So JJ said, interrupting Mike mid-sentence: 'Sir, I can pick her up.'

Mike covered the bottom of the phone (too old to know how to mute) and asked JJ to repeat himself. JJ did, so Mike asked what he's on about.

'I've got nothing to do after this, and my truck's big enough to get a fair amount of suitcases in, if you need. And I've also got no plans for the evening.'

'Just to be clear,' Mike said. 'You're offering to drive all the way to Charleston to pick Kiara up?'

'Yes, Sir.'

'Her plane lands at quarter to midnight.'

'That's alright, Sir.'

'And you're okay with that.'

'Yes, Sir.'

Mike frowned. 'Why?'

All JJ could do was shrug. 'Got nothing better to do.'

And that was it -- he had nothing better to do. It was the truth, because Pope was off on holiday, and the only plans he had for the evening consisted of eating leftover pizza and watching whatever's new on Netflix. Driving to Charleston was miles better than that. Hell, he hadn't even left the island in over a year, feels like.

But, yeah. A part of him was curious about the rumour. And a part of him was wondering how Kiara Carrera's life turned out, because not a lot of people make it off the island and those that do, they don't come back.

But she did. And that was enough for JJ.

After agreeing to the plan and finalising the details, including texting Kiara that it'd be JJ picking her up (which she wouldn't get until she landed, anyway), Mike went to his car. He returned with a bouquet of roses.

Now, JJ doesn't know anything about roses, but they damn sure make his car smell nice. They're the expensive kind, he can tell, because they're vibrant and big and the bow they're wrapped with is some fancy material he doesn't know the name off. He can see them in the backseat, taunting him, asking him why he's doing this.

A Warren Zeiders song comes on. Some Whiskey , JJ thinks it's called. He knows some of the words.

He doesn't know the answer.

JJ makes a pit stop about halfway to Charleston, to fill up his tank. Lots of shady people there, he found, watching the numbers to go up. A guy in a cowboy hat and Doc Martens, as well as some girl on her phone who looks very pissed off, in outfit too revealing for this kind of autumn weather. JJ thinks about offering her a lift, but something about the snark of her lip makes him rethink that.

In the end, he goes up to pay and returns with a Reese's chocolate bar and some Hershey's. The girl's still there and the guy with the cowboy hat is gone, an elderly trucker in his place.

It's easy for JJ forget that there's a world outside of Kildare.

The road ahead of him is the same as the half he's left behind. Occasional lights coming from the other direction, but the road's straight with nothing adorning its sides, nothing for him to look at aside from the sky changing colours in his rearview mirror.

He thinks about Kiara.

It's been years since he'd seen her last. It was senior prom at the Kook Academy, and he was only there because some girl asked him to be her prom date. She was rich, hot, and they were having an afterparty at Sarah Cameron's, so obviously he was going to go for the free booze.

He doesn't even remember the name of the girl he was with. They weren't even dating, she just wanted to piss of her parents, and JJ was always down for that.

Kiara, on the other hand...

He throws a glance at the roses in the back. Her dad probably doesn't know, but for a while after that night, JJ would think of her whenever he saw roses, be it in a bouquet or still growing, in the wild.

(But the rose bush always reminded him of her more. Something about the untamed potential...)

He left his date to go out for a smoke. His best mate, John B, was eating Sarah Cameron's face somewhere in the shadows behind the school, even though she'd come there with Topper Thornton, but JJ didn't care much about the drama.

'Smoking's bad for you,' came a voice from behind him.

The girl sat down on the bench next to him, half hidden in what little light fell from the school porch, and took the joint out of his hand.

And put it to her lips.

'Hypocrite,' JJ said, with no bite.

She just shrugged. 'I like it. I just know it's bad.'

With a puff, she handed the joint back to him, and JJ felt like they'd made a silent promise to pass it back and forth, so they did.

Eventually, he stopped smoking, and he'd never seen her smoke before or after again. Sometimes, back when this was recent, he'd wonder if she pretended to smoke just to speak to him, then remember that she did it a little too easily for that to be true.

'Not enjoying the party?'

She leaned back against the bench, smiling a little. 'It's not bad. Just needed to step outside for a moment.'

'And for some free weed.'

'Eh. Doesn't hurt.'

She smiled at him and he offered her another one. She put it to her lips and leaned forward, waiting patiently as he brought his Zippo to it. Her eyes bore into his, even in the darkness, and he wondered what she thought of him -- a Pogue, sharing a joint with a Kook.

He'd spent the whole night feeling like a beggar in the king's clothing, until now. In the darkness, the clothing wasn't what mattered.

She inhaled and closed her eyes before exhaling a moment later. JJ watched her, a little too closely -- the pouted lips as the smoke blew out, the curve of her nose, the fullness of her cheek. Her hair was pulled back in a haphazard bun with strands falling out, outlining her face, even in the dark.

Even in the dark, JJ Maybank knew he ain't never seen someone so pretty his whole damn life.

Kiara passed the joint to him. 'It's rude to stare.'

'Can't help it.'

She just laughed.

Behind them, he heard Sarah Cameron laugh, too. He turned just in time to see her running across the lawn with John B in hand -- the same John B who swore to him they were over not too long ago, but JJ knew it wasn't true, and didn't resent his friend for it.

'Thought she was with Topper,' said Kiara.

JJ sighed. 'Don't ask me anything.'

'Alright.'

The joint swapped owners again. She crossed her legs and the slit on the red dress exposed her all the way to the top of her thigh, and JJ couldn't take his eyes off of her.

'I don't think I've ever spoken to you,' she said.

'You're never on the wrong side of the island.'

'Maybe I always am.'

'Mhm.' JJ nudged her. 'That joint's hitting you.'

She smiled, but didn't say anything.

They passed the joint back and forth until it ran out and JJ stubbed the butt of it into the ground and, when questioned, explained he doesn't care about this side of the island enough to protect its environment. It made Kiara laugh and he decided he'd like to do that again. Make her laugh again.

So he said, 'Wanna get out of here?'

She quirked her brow, so he clarified: 'Not like that. Just a walk.'

'Sure.'

Turned out she was in heels, which he should've anticipated, and walking on grass made her wobbly. She held upright as much as she could as they followed the same path Sarah and John B took earlier, but he stuck his elbow out after a while, and she wrapped her arm around it.

'Better?'

'Better,' she agreed. 'Thanks.'

She didn't let go of him when they got to the pavement, and he didn't make an attempt to get rid of her. In fact, he straightened his posture, remembering what Big John had told him: When in the presence of a lady, always choose to be a man, not a boy.

He had a feeling he was doing a decent enough job.

'So what's next for you?'

'Travelling the world,' Kiara said.

'All of it?'

'All of it.'

'Well, Ma'am,' said JJ, 'I hope you all of it is waiting for you.'

She laughed again. JJ felt like he won a prize at a carnival.

They passed the lawn, hearing hushed whispers of two lovers still hiding in the shadows. Both he and Kiara ignored them, but exchanged a conspiratorial glance. As far as he knew, she was as close to Sarah Cameron as she was to John B, and this sure as hell was a story to tell.

They ventured into the garden that led to the PE hall because of course, their school was going to have a garden. It was lit by a few dimmed lights, which surprised JJ -- but at this side of the island, the electricity bill probably wasn't even top fifteen of anyone's concerns.

'What about you?' she asked. 'What's next?'

'Nothing,' he said. 'Just more of the same, just no school.'

'You got a job?'

He nodded. 'I work for my friends' dad. Delivering merch and groceries to shop, that kind of stuff.'

'Heyward?'

'The one and only.'

She smiled. 'My dad gets his stuff from him, for The Wreck. I might see you around.'

'You might.'

They passed a bush of carnations, and JJ paused for a moment. They were pink and blooming; smelled like the bright moments of his childhoods.

He felt Kiara at his side, asking without words.

'Carnations were my mum's favourite flowers.'

'She has a good taste.'

He swallowed the lump in his throat. 'She did.'

Kiara's hand moved across his, gently, as if soothing him. 'I prefer roses. Cliche, I know,' she added as he chuckled. 'You just know there'll be in every shop, and everyone gives roses first. It's kind of nice.'

'Fair enough, I suppose.'

They walked further, not talking. JJ found himself enjoying her company and the feeling of her on his arm. The dress she wore revealed her leg every so often and it took all in him not to look, not to stare, not to fantasise. But he didn't. He really didn't.

Instead, when they approached a rose bush, he plucked a rose off it.

'For the most beautiful lady this evening.'

Kiara took it with a chuckle. 'Charming.'

'Funny. That's actually my middle name.'

She brought the rose to her nose and closed her eyes as she smelled it, and JJ felt like every single decision he'd made in this life led him to this very moment.

There was no street light reaching this corner of the garden, nothing bar the moonlight. Nothing but the silver gleam shining on Kiara's content face; he wondered what she was thinking about.

'Thank you,' she said, opening her eyes with a smile. 'It's a lovely rose.'

'You're most welcome, Ma'am.'

She kissed him on the cheek. He wondered if she was drunk, but it might've been the joint, and he didn't care.

'We should head back,' she said, wrapping her arm around his again. 'People might start wondering where we are.'

'Sure,' he said, when he wanted nothing more but to stay here, with her.

The walk back was quiet. Jj knew there was nothing waiting for him there, because his date must've found someone else to entertain her, and John B would likely be preoccupied with Sarah Cameron until it was time to go home.

When they got back to the porch, she tugged gently at his arm. 'I keep seeing you around, but I never got your name.'

He grinned. 'We're not all popular enough for people to know our names like you, Miss Carrera.'

'I'll blame it on Sarah.'

'Rightfully so,' he said. 'It's JJ. JJ Maybank.'

'Well, then,' she said, untangling their arms, 'thank you for keeping me company, JJ Maybank.'

'My pleasure.'

She smiled again, that mischieviously polite little smile of hers, and led them back into the hall. She joined her friends and he made his way back to his table, where his glass had been refilled by his date, and he knew it would be alcohol without even looking.

He didn't see Kiara again until she was leaving, giving him a small wave. Her arm was interlinked with Sarah Cameron's, as it was, and sure enough, there was a rose tucked into her hair.

JJ waved back.

It was the last he'd ever seen of Kiara Carrera.

Until now, anyway, he thinks as he turns off the engine, parks about a two minute walk from the airport. He has nothing with him apart from his car keys, phone, wallet, and a bouquet of roses.

It feels like life was playing a silly joke on him, and he's waiting for the right moment to laugh.

The airport is as quiet as he expected it to be at this time of night. There are a few people waiting, presumably for people from the same flight as Kiara, some of them with massive signs with names written on them.

JJ likes looking at people. He likes trying to figure out if they've made it in life, or at least if they think they have. He wonders if that guy wearing a full three-piece that looks too perfectly fitted to be out of a cheap shop thinks he has it all figured out. He wonders if he's waiting for a wife, a family member, or a business partner. There's also a guy with a young child sleeping in his arms -- the girl can't be more than five, six years old. Whoever it is they're waiting for, they must have a lot of good things going for them. JJ knows kids don't have patience for things like these unless they really want to.

The plane lands -- it says so on the big screen. JJ's sitting on the bench, knowing it'll be a while before Kiara comes out. He wonders if he should've written a sign, or if she'll recognise him. It's been a few years, but he's still as scruffy as he was when he was a teenager, even if he changed into jeans and a t-shirt before he came to get her.

He thinks about what to say -- does he explain why he's here, first thing? Does he ask about the flight?

It's only now that he's realising he hasn't thought this far ahead and now he's too stressed out to do so. He's mad at himself for offering to do this, because he still needs to drive home, and sure he had a few energy drinks on the way and a few more waiting in the car, but man. He really should've thought this through.

The luggage has arrived, or so says the screen.

JJ gets up and so do most of the people who spent the last few minutes on the benches. He feels his palms getting sweaty as he holds the roses.

People start walking through. He realises he doesn't know what Kiara looks like -- it's not like they follow each other on social media. What if he doesn't recognise her? If she doesn't recognise him, either, and they're just dumbly walking around the airport, looking for the other and not knowing they're just there?

Thoughts keep running through his head and he wishes he brought headphones, but it's too late now. She'll be here any moment now.

The guy shakes the little girl and she wakes up, running up to a woman in her early thirties as if she wasn't asleep less than a minute ago. It draws a smile out of both the guy and JJ.

The door opens, but it's not Kiara. It opens again, but it's not her -- it's an older gentleman in a suit and, rightfully so, he walks up to the other man in the suit.

The door opens and JJ sees suitcases first -- two of them, both big, and a backpack on top of one.

And then he sees the same haphazard bun he saw that night. Except the fancy red dress that kept him up for more nights than he'd like to admit has been swapped out for a sweater and joggers, and there was no makeup on her face.

Yet even so, JJ would still give her the rose for the most beautiful lady tonight.

He starts approaching the line as her eyes scanned the crowd. When their gazes meet, he knew she recognises him, even if the confusion between her brows takes him aback. Has she not read the text from her father?

Something's clearly up when Kiara's eyes move past him, still looking around the crowd, frowning deeper as she doesn't recognise anyone.

'Kiara,' he calls, approaching her. She doesn't hear, or react, so he calls again and when she finally looks, he smiles at her. 'I'm picking you up. Your dad texted you.'

Kiara chuckles, raising her phone -- the screen is fully cracked. 'Yeah, not getting anything from this poor thing.'

She's finally out of the gate and he takes her suitcases, not even waiting for her to ask (or say no, more likely). JJ starts making his way out of the airport and he's glad to see her following, even if she's half in a daze.

'What happened to it?'

She rubs her nose, and he realises her eyes are a little bloodshot. 'Dropped it getting off the plane. Ran my suitcase over it. End of.'

'That's some bad karma you've got there. You didn't get to check your phone before that?'

'Nope.' She looks around as they exit the airport and the wind blows on her face, sweeping the hairs around it. 'It's colder than I remember.'

'That's global warming for you,' JJ says. 'I'm parked just there.'

'How am I meant to know you're not kidnapping me?'

JJ laughs, and only then realises she's being at least partially serious. He lets go of the suitcases and reaches underneath his armpit, where he'd squished the bouquet, because of course he'd forgiven to actually give it to her.

So he gives it to her now -- a bouquet of roses.

(Wonders if she's thinking about the same night he is.)

'Your dad bought you these,' he says, 'so I said I'll take your roses.'

The frown dissipates and Kiara is smiling as she takes the flowers. JJ wishes he could take a picture, but takes the suitcases instead.

'Well, that explains the flowers, at least.' He hears her footsteps behind him, so he keeps walking to the car. 'Doesn't explain why you're here, of all people.'

'Well, I offered.'

'Why?'

'I had nothing better to do.'

'And that's just it?'

JJ opens the trunk. 'Do you always ask that many questions?'

She shrugs, and he's thinking of that night again. 'Usually.'

'Well, I drove here, and I'm about to drive back, and I don't really have extra time on my hands, so save the questions for the road.'

'No need to be so bossy,' she retorts, but she's getting into his truck alright.

He thinks about how she didn't even offer to help with the suitcases. Not that he minds, he wouldn't take her help even if she insisted, it's just not quite what he'd expect from the Kiara he knew, the feminist warrior known across the island.

But when he opens his door to get into the truck and the half-working light shines on her face, he can tell she's exhausted.

'Wanna grab something to eat?' JJ twists the key and the engine roars to life. 'There's a few diners on the way.'

'Are you hungry?'

'Starving.'

She smiles. 'Okay.'

They don't talk much after that. JJ drives them out of the parking lot and manoeuvres out of the Charleston post code via the scenic route. There's not much to be seen, but the odd street light and sets of suburbs in the distance are better than the straight road with nothing to it. There's gas stations and diners, sure---he wasn't lying about being hungry---but apart from it, the moon is their only acquaintance.

He lets her fiddle with the radio after she called her dad from his phone. He promised her not to judge her taste, so when she puts reggae on, he convinces himself to enjoy it, instead.

Kiara leans her head on the headrest. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see her fingers tapping the rhythm on her things, and he wonders if she's a dancer. Surely she would be one.

'Thanks, JJ,' she says. 'For doing this when my dad couldn't.'

He shrugs. 'S'alright. I'm more surprised you remember my name.'

'You're not that easy to forget, you know.'

He laughs. 'You flatter me too much.'

He looks over and she's looking out of the window, the runaway strands shielding parts of her face from him. He wonders if she's telling the truth, or even what she meant by it---if she meant anything, that is---then decides to stop at the next diner he sees. Nothing good's come from an empty stomach and right now, there's two of those in the truck.

It’s less than ten minutes later that he pulls up at a 50’s-looking diner. He sees the question on Kiara’s face and promises her they’re not getting murdered here, though her eyes keep checking every corner on their way into the place. The bell chimes and the teenage guy at the till looks at them, but the two people sitting at each their own table pay them no mind.

‘Smells nice,’ says JJ.

Kiara hums in agreement. 

They find a booth close to the entrance, even if that means having the cold breeze if someone walks in. JJ doubts it—it’s nearly three o’clock—and thinks Kiara will feel more comfortable if they’re close to the way out. Just in case. Even though her shoulders are more relaxed now and she’s throwing less glances in the way of the other two customers, JJ would rather have her feel as comfortable and safe as possible.

He slides the menu across. ‘Have whatever you want. It’s on me.’

‘Shouldn’t it be on me?’ she asks, eyeing the menu. ‘You picked me up.’

‘Doesn’t work that way.’

‘Hm?’

‘Just– It’s on me,’ JJ says, then nods at the menu. ‘Pick soon. The guy’s wanting to come over.’

She glances at the till and he knows she made eye contact with the guy, because she averts her eyes as soon as she does so. She barely even glances at the menu before he says her order—a burger and a milkshake—and two minutes later, JJ orders for both of them. Kiara’s slumped against the wall, tapping her fingers while simultaneously looking like she’s half asleep, staring out of the window where they could see nothing but a singular street light, shining over JJ’s truck, a minivan, and a bike.

JJ studies her, even though he’s not trying to. She looks older and more tired, with lightened hair at the tips that must’ve grown out, but he’s surprised just how little hse’s really changed.

‘It’s rude to stare,’ she says, with no bite to it.

‘Not much else to look at,’ he says. ‘Nothing worth looking at, anyway.’

It makes her chuckle. ‘Still charming as ever.’

‘You bet.’

He waits to see if she’ll pick up the conversation, and she doesn’t. The waiter comes and gives them a cup of coffee each, but Kiara doesn’t touch hers. Jetlag, she explains – she needs to get through it naturally. 

‘Where did you come from?’ he asks. ‘You couldn’t have a jetlag from Washington, so that must’ve been a layover.’

‘Bahamas,’ she says.

‘Was it nice?’

‘Sure.’

‘How long were you there for?’

‘Do you always ask that many questions?’ 

‘Sorry. Didn’t mean to pry.’

A moment passes and her lip quivers—JJ feels like he said something wrong—and then she buries her head in her hands, before sighing loudly. ‘It’s my fault,’ she says, tucking some strands behind her ears. ‘I’m sorry. I’m just tired.’

‘That’s alright,’ he says, sipping on his coffee. ‘We don’t need to talk if you’re not wanting to.’

‘It’s not that. It’s probably better if we do, it’ll keep me up.’ She sighs and leans back, letting herself sink into the seat a little, making her crewneck sweater scrunch around her neck. ‘I just feel a little drunk and I’m scared of saying the wrong thing.’

‘Like what?’

‘Cheeky,’ she says, but smiles nonetheless. She yawns and rubs her eyes, sighing a little. ‘You still friends with John B?’

‘Close as ever.’

‘Are him and Sarah still a thing?’

John B Routledge and Sarah Cameron are, as always, a complicated thing – and JJ embarks on a story that spans years after the prom night, and as it turns out, years since Kiara has last had contact with anyone from the island, including her best friend at the time. He tells her of Sarah joining their adventures, about the search for gold and a long-lost crucifix that turned out to be a Heyward family heirloom, but makes it sound more adventurous than it was. Her eyes are slightly glazed and she hums and nods in all the right places, but she’s not really listening, or at least absorbing what he’s saying. He says at one point that John B’s dad came back from the dead and she just nods in response, so JJ doesn’t even bother pretending he’s telling the truth anymore.

It’s fun. He comes up with a story and Kiara’s asleep with her eyes open, and he doesn’t really mind.

The smell of their food wakes her up. The waiter’s a little clumsy as he puts it in front of them, and Kiara’s sinking her teeth into her burger before he’s even gone.

She moans. JJ tries not to picture her doing that in a different context.

‘Good?’

‘This is the best burger I’ve ever had,’ she says, moaning again. Her eyes widen and she covers her mouth. ‘Sorry. I didn’t mean to do that.’

JJ waves her off. ‘Good food will do that to you.’

He eats his burger, too, but it’s really just average. He doesn’t say that – lets her believe it really is the best burger in the world, even as she leaves a very detailed review on Google. He watches her come back to life as the carbs start to hit and the glaze leaves her eyes. She moves more as she talks, asks more questions about Kildare and the things she’s missed, and JJ finds himself enjoying talking about the place he'd spent the majority of his life wishing he could get out of.

‘I’ve missed it,’ she says, sipping on the strawberry milkshake while JJ enjoys his chocolate one. ‘I never thought I’d say that.’

‘Kildare?’

‘Mhm.’

‘Eh. It grows on you, I suppose.’

‘Most places do,’ she says. ‘I was in the Bahamas for the last six months and it’s been a whirlwind. Europe, before that, and Asia was the first destination.’

JJ smiles. ‘So you’ve really travelled all of the world.’

Kiara smiles, too, and he wonders if she’s thinking the same thing – from the darkness on her cheeks, he supposes she is. ‘All of it.’

‘So, what’s it like?’

And she tells him everything. He watches as she bodies the stories, as the names of people she’s met come back to her, and glaze in her eyes goes away as the carbs hit in. She’s a good storyteller, turns out, and he’s a lot better at listening than she was not too long ago. He learns about the catacombs of Paris, of the high altitudes of Nepal, about the alpacas and the camels, about the way a dust storm can seep through the tiniest of cracks in fabrics. 

She keeps talking even when they get to the car, some half hour later, and he doesn’t stop her. Country music is back on the radio, but just as background noise this time, and JJ listens to the stories about her travels even when the dark gives way to the faintest orange, and a new day is being born. 

She’ll get tired eventually, and she’ll crash. He knows the gig. 

He slows the car not too far from where they’re to take the ferry back to the island, but still too far from any light to reach him. Kiara stops talking but doesn’t ask questions as he pulls up on the side of the road and does a 180 with his truck. From the back, he grabs a blanket and some candies he’d forgotten he put there, and asks her to follow him.

‘This isn’t the part where I kill you,’ he tells her.

‘Good,’ she retorts. ‘Was kind of enjoying myself.’

‘Well,’ he says, hopping out of the truck with her following suit, ‘you’re about to be enjoying yourself a whole lot more.’

He doesn’t apologise for the innuendo, and it makes her laugh. 

He sets the blanket on the back of his truck and even though it’s still kind of dirty, he hopes she doesn’t mind – she doesn’t give any sign that she does. He sits down, then, stretching his legs down the back of the truck, and she does the same, leaning against the back of the cabin.

‘What are we doing, JJ?’

He smiles at her. ‘What’s the last time you watching the sun rise in the middle of nowhere? In the States.’

She closes her mouth, because he knew she was going to say in the desert , and then she huffs. ‘I can’t remember.’

‘You’re about to, then.’

Kiara says nothing, but he can feel her relax. Her arm’s right up against his and they face east, watching the sky bask in shades of orange and gold and red, little by little. JJ doesn’t know when’s the last time he watched the sunrise, either, and it’s a much better view from here than the road. 

Birds wake up, too, chirping away. It’s too early for cars and JJ feels like the silence of the world is around them – nothing but them. 

He looks over, and Kiara’s eyes are trained on the sky. Her face is relaxed and he wonders what she’s thinking about, but doesn’t ask. He doesn’t want to break the spell. He just watches her, again, but she doesn’t call him out on it this time. She’s beautiful in a way that the word was made for her – the golden hour makes her glow, tired as she is. 

JJ feels a sudden urge to kiss her forehead. He doesn’t, but the thought doesn’t go away.

The day brightens and the sun comes out soon enough. By that time, Kiara’s eyes have closed, and her head dropped to JJ’s shoulder. He knows they should get going, and he’s got some energy drinks to get through, but he doesn’t feel tired. He feels alive .

Truth is, that night never left his mind. She was in the back of it, hiding, waiting. The connection and the familiarity he felt that night came rushing back, and it feels like it’s not basically a stranger that’s falling asleep on his shoulder, that he’s watching the sun rise with, that he’s driven for hours to pick up. 

Not a stranger. Just Kiara.

He taps her on the shoulder, gently, and tells her that they need to get going when she wakes up. JJ walks her to the car, fastens the belt, and her eyes are only half open. He turns on the heating and switches to a local radio station that plays calmer music in the mornings as they get back on the road. Whenever he glances over, Kiara’s eyes are closed, and she looks peaceful. He doesn’t even wake her up when they get on the ferry, nor does he leave the car, either. 

Driving around Kildare feels familiar in the mornings, so JJ has no issue with it, even on Figure Eight. He finds her house easily enough, and pulls up without waking her. He thinks about getting Mike to come get her, but something about that feels like he’s losing out on something. On time with her, maybe.

What happens when he gets back into his truck and drives away? Is it going to be another prom night, where they never speak again, not for years, anyway?

The thought of that makes his chest ache. 

JJ leaves the truck and grabs the suitcases from the back. He sets them out on the porch, wondering if Mike and Anna are even up. He gets back to the truck and opens the passenger door, but Kiara still doesn’t wake.

He calls her name. Nothing. He gives her a gentle nudge, and that gets a movement out of her, but not enough. 

‘Kiara,’ he says. ‘You’re home.’

Her eyes open and they’re focused on him and only him for a full second, and JJ feels bare. She notices the house, then, and he watches as she becomes nervous again. 

‘It’s going to be okay,’ he tells her. ‘I don’t know what happened between you and your parents, but you’re good. They’ve missed you.’

‘Yeah.’

‘Kiara.’

She looks back at him.

JJ gives her another nudge. ‘You’re going to charm them, no matter what.’

It makes her smile, and JJ feels like a winner again. 

She thanks him for driving her, for picking her up, even though it was her dad who asked him to – or her dad that JJ offered to do so. She’s stalling, he can tell, but he lets her. Helps her get out of the truck. Walks up with her to the stairs, with her arm around hers, just like that night – the only thing she’s got in her hands is the roses, and he wishes he was the one getting them for her.

Next time, he thinks. But there’s no guarantee of that.

As they stand in front of her door, Kiara doesn’t ring the bell. Her hand tightens the hold on JJ’s arm and he feels her shaking, ever so slightly. She chalks it up to sleeplessness—the sun is now well over the horizon—but it doesn’t take a genius to figure it out.

‘Do you want me to come in with you?’

She frowns. ‘Do you know my parents that well?’

‘Not really,’ he admits, ‘but if having someone there makes it easier for you…’

Kiara’s face breaks out into a tired smile and she gives his arm a squeeze. He watches her as she leans forward and plants a kiss on his cheek – a firm one, purposeful, and JJ feels his whole body set ablaze.

‘You’ve already done more than enough,’ she says. ‘Thank you.’

‘It’s nothing,’ he says, and his voice hitches.

‘It’s not nothing. I don’t even know how to thank you properly.’

‘It’s fine. Your dad’s already given me money for it.’

She tilts her head. ‘I’m sure he didn’t include you treating me to a burger and a really pretty sunrise in that.’

‘No,’ JJ chuckles, ‘but I wanted to. That’s on me.’

‘JJ.’ Kiara calls his name again and squeezes his arm one more time, until he’s finally looking at her. ‘I don’t even know how to thank you properly.’

And in a moment of opportunity, exhaustion, and just enough courage, JJ says: ‘Go for dinner with me.’

‘Dinner,’ she repeats.

‘Dinner.’

‘Hm. That doesn’t sound too bad.’

‘I’m glad to hear that.’ JJ feels his shoulder relax—when did they even tense?—and he gives her a little nudge. ‘You ready to see your family again?’

He offers to ring the bell on her behalf and she takes it. They end up standing there, hand in arm, until there’s rushed footsteps coming from the inside and it’s Mike that opens the door, practically engulfing Kiara into a hug. 

JJ sees that as his cue. He waves at the two and Mike thanks him again, but JJ doesn’t stay long enough to hear any more offers of gratitude – he already got the one he wanted. Back in his truck, his Baby, he scrolls on his phone to see Kiara has already requested to follow him on Instagram. He accepts and follows back and within minutes, there’s a text from her:

looking forward to that dinner x

And just like that, JJ's life has become thrilling again.

[shininglamp]

Sam’s Prank on Dean

Sam comes walking into the bunker, he’s carrying groceries and a shoe box under his arm, balancing his heavy jacket. Dean is sitting at the library actually looking up lore.

Sam: “Actually learning for a change?”

Dean: “And you? Properly slacking off for once?”

Sam: “So serious!” He laughs.

Dean: “what’s in the box?”

Sam: “hmm? Nothing really… salad or burgers for lunch?

Dean: “Don’t insult me.”

Sam, still all smiles, goes to make lunch. Dean is pleased with his burger and all is well… until he decides to go for a drive to clear his head.

The music is just a little different. At first, not realizing the change, Dean is ready to rock out to his tunes. Then… “Huh?” The gruff voiced singer is singing Madonna? What!? Quickly grabbing another cassette Dean is now faced with a rocking fusion of Sandman and Don’t Stop Believing. “SAM!!” Dean hangs a u turn on the empty road.

“ Bitch! Sacrilege!! HOW DARE YOU!” He’s using his big voice and extra angry face. “Where are they!!! Give them back!”

“Give what back?” Sam grins.

“My music!!!!”

“You didn’t like ‘Rock Sugar?’”

Dean pulls out his gun.

“All right, all right!” Sam laughs and tosses Dean the shoe box filled with Dean’s cassettes.

“My babies!” Dean almost fumbles the catch then cradles the box with exaggerated concern. He gives his little brother a dirty look and leaves for his drive again. Sam giggles, loving that his prank elicited the response he hoped for.

On a long drive back from a hunt a week later.

Dean is singing along to his music as usual. Rock You Like a Hurricane by Scorpions. Then, suddenly he riffs into Adele. “We coulda had it allllll!”

Sam: “Aha!!!”

Dean shuts his mouth, wide-eyed and mortified.

Sam: “So you DO like Rock Sugar!”

Dean: “what? No…” he tries to act casual. “ it just got stuck in my head..”

Sam: “From the one time you heard it?”

A few nights later.

Dean: “Cas!” Dean pokes his head out of his room.

The Angel looks tired but is intrigued at the boyish enthusiasm Dean is displaying.

Dean: “Where’s Sam?”

Cas: “Not here.”

Dean: “Perfect!” Pulls the Angel into his room and shuts the door. He starts to blast Rock Sugar’s “shook me like a prayer.”

Cas blinks in his pensive expression. Dean is belting out the words. “You call my name, it’s like an angel sighing!”

Sam comes home to hear the music through the halls. He opens Dean’s door. Seeing Dean and Cas do the song as a duet, both smiling ear to ear. Dean jumps off his bed and sees his little brother staring. He stops the music, and Cas turns around and sees why.

Sam: “So, fusion rock is sacrilege is it?”

Dean: lifting chin calmly. “Why yes, Sam. It is. I’m teaching Cas about what real music is.”

Cas: “I like this one…”

Dean: “Shh!” Turns to Sam. “See what I have to work with?” Cas frowns. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like a private moment with my favorite angel.” Sam stutters. Dean wraps his arms around Cas. Cas is confused. Dean tries to sell it and even glides his hands through Cas’ hair and smiles at Sam. Batts his eyes a few times. Then seeing Sam has become petrified in confusion, politely closes the door on his little brother’s face.

Dean: “Do you think he bought it?”

Cas: “I don’t think anyone would believe us as a couple.” The brows furrow.

Dean: “why not? Aren’t I pretty?”

Cas: Almost gets lost in Dean’s princess eyes. “That’s beside the point.” He clears his throat. “I liked the song.”

Dean: “Absolutely! But I will never give Sam the satisfaction of knowing that.”

Cas: “Okay. But can this be our song?”

Dean smiles. “I’ll make sure you have a copy.”

[manwalksintobar]

Biography of LeBron as Ohio // Sean Thomas Dougherty

When is a poem one word? Even at 17 he was Baraka            on the court, Coltrane gold toned, a kind of running riff, more than boy-child, man-child, he was one word like Prince.             How back in those drunken days when I still ran in bars & played schoolyard ball             & wagered fives & tens, me & my colleague the psych-prof drove across Eastern Ohio              just to see this kid from powerhouse St. Vincent, grown out of rust-belt-bent-rims, tripped             with the hype & hope & hip hop blaring from his headphones, all rubber soled             & grit as the city which birthed him. We watched him rise that night scoring over 35,             drove back across the quiet cut cornfields & small towns of Ohio, back to the places             where we slept knowing that Jesus had been reborn, black & beautiful with a sweatband crown rimming his brow.             He was so much more than flipping burgers & fries, more than 12-hour shifts at the steel plant in Cleveland.             More than the shut-down mill in Youngstown. More than that kid selling meth in Ashtabula.             He was every kid, every street, every silo, he was white & black & brown & migrant kids working farms.             He was the prince of stutter-step & pause. He was the new King. We knew he was coming back the day after he left             his house in Bath Township. He never sold it. Someone fed his fish for years. Perhaps our hope? Fuck Miami. Leave Wade to wade through the Hurricane rain. LeBron is remembering that woman washing the linoleum floor, that man           punching his punch card. He drives a Camaro, the cool kid Ohio car driving through any Main Street. He is the toll-taker, &             he is the ticket out. He keeps index cards documenting             his opponents’ moves. One leans forward before he drives. One always swipes with his left hand. The details like a preacher             studying the gospel. He studies the game like a mathematician conjugating equations, but when he moves he is a             choreography, a conductor passing the ball like a baton. He is a burst of cinders             at the mill. He is a chorus of children calling his name.             The blistered hands of man stacking boxes in Sandusky, the long wait for work in Lorain. A sapling bends             & reaches in all directions before it becomes a tree. A ball is a key to a lock.             A ball is the opposite of Glock. America who sings your praises,            while tying the rope, everyone waiting for Caesar to fall, back-stabbing media hype city betrayed             by white people with racist signs.             I watch the kids play ball in the Heights, witness this they say. We will rise. I watched             LeBron arrive & leave, I walked, I gave up drinking as he went off & won a ring. The children’s chorus calls out sing             brother, sing. Everything is black. Storm clouds gather out on Lake Erie. But the old flower-hatted women             at the Baptist church are heading out praise cards, registering teenagers to vote. To turn a few words into a sentence. He is a glossary of jam, & yes he is corporate             chugging down green bubbly Sprite, running in Beats head phones, he is Dunkin his donut, he is Nike, witness, ripped.             On a spring day in Akron a             chorus of children is chanting his name on the court by the chain-link fence. He is forged steel, turning his skinny body into             muscle, years of nights lifting, chiseling, cutting, studying. Watching the tape. To make a new kind of sentence. He is passing             out T-shirts, this long hot bloody summer he was returned to the rusted rim along the big lake. He is stutter-step. He is             spinning wheel. He has a cool new hat. He is speaking of dead black children. He is giving his time. To make the crowd             sway like wind through a field of corn.             Does LeBron think of dying?             Does the grape think of dying as it withers on the vine by the lake? Or does it dream of the wine it will become? He is wearing a shirt that says I Can’t Breathe. They said he was arrogant. I said he was just Ohio.             He married his high school sweetheart. Bravado laid out on the court. No back down, he is Biggie with a basketball inside             of a mic, no ballistics, just ballet. He is Miles Davis cool, quietly cerebral, turning his back, tossing up             chalk like blue smoke, blue notes, blues. He is Akron, Columbus, he is heart & Heat turned to lake effect blizzards,             freighters frozen in ice, looking for work & no money to eat. He is Ashtabula & Toledo. He is carrying so many across the             river, up through Marietta.             The grapevines are ripe in Geneva.             He returns, Man-child, Man-strong, Man-smart, Man- mountain, Mansfield to East Akron, minus into Man, or should we             say Mamma raised? Single mother fed, shy child, quiet child who grew, who suffered & taught his body to sing, his             mother worked how many shifts, doing this, doing that, never gave up for her son. He is third shift at the rubber             plant in winter, he is farm hands & auto parts piecework & long nights the men at the bar, eyes on the television.             The lake tonight is black as newly laid asphalt. There are no ellipses. He is turning paragraphs             into chapters. Long ago the hoop Gods made this deal at the crossroads, Old Scratch is flipping the pages             of his program & waiting high in the stands—to belong to a place most people would call             nowhere, to show the world how tough we truly are, twelve-hour shifts at the Rubber plant in Akron. How he is, how             he is a part of this asphalt court we call Ohio, & how we suffer, & how we shine.

[whatsonmedia]

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[randobambo]

Imagine Beauty and the Beast, everything else is the same but the dinner scene is this:

[httpdabi]

AmongUs

Summary: You decided to play AmongUs with your best friend and troll some randoms in there, what you didn’t really expect was to meet an extremely handsome stranger that has to offer you things your ex boyfriends never did.

Genre: smut, romance, No quirks looool

Word count: 7.5k

Warnings: 18+ (minors fuck off kindly), creampie, multiple orgasms, fingering, forced orgasm, daddy kink, dom!Dabi, orgasm denial, praising!

I had lots of fun writing this! Hope you enjoy it <3

,, Girl, you promised that you’ll come over tonight’’ you whined loudly over the phone, as your best friend Nejire told you that she won’t be able to make it, breaking your plans into tiny little pieces. Damn her childhood friend and his whole family deciding to come exactly today over, ruining your perfect evening with your best friend.

,, Yeah, but we can drink and play, doesn’t matter if we ain’t together, I’m sure he’ll like to play with us ‘’ you could almost feel her smile on the other line, and with only that you couldn’t even think about being mad at her, knowing very well how much she loves that guy. Probably in a way that no friends love each other.

,, Yeah, yeah. But girl, if you dich me tonight and let me troll people on my own, I’ll never forgive you’’ you smiled, knowing very well that she won’t do that. The two of you spend too much time playing stupid games together, drinking till you are comfortable enough to argue with strangers online, and troll the shit out of them.

Since it was weekend, and you were spending time on your own, you decided to start drinking a bit earlier. Turning on a movie, you started sipping on your wine, exchanging some texts with your best friend every now and then.

Your first glass was done way too fast, and you were already sitting in front of your computer with your forth glass beside the keyboard, and a cigarette in your right hand, texting a code to Nejire as you puffed on your cigarette.

The moment you saw one familiar and one not so familiar usernames getting into the private lobby , you smiled widely once Nejire started laughing loudly.

,, HAHAHA BITCH WHAT KIND OF NAME IS THAT’’ she screamed, as her lover boy giggled quietly beside her, probably too shy to say anything.

,, What is wrong with Kentuckycriedfricken?’’ you asked, as you slowly tapped with your fingers over the table. Well, you weren’t so creative tonight, but you could only blame alcohol on that.

,, Why the fuck are you called TURKEY_SANDWICH’’ you added another question, not giving her a chance to answer to your first one.

,,BECAUSE I’M CARVING ONE’’Nejire screamed, and in that moment you knew very well that she drank as much as you did, if not even more. You giggled to yourself, as you watched the room getting full, some people talking, some texting in the chat and some simply waiting.

You rolled your eyes in annoyance, once you saw all the people commenting START In the small chat box. There was something about it that was pissing you off, making you kick or ban anyone who writes it. This time, you were too busy laughing with your friend, and instead doing any of it, you simply started the game.

CREWMATE

You sighed in relief, taking a sip of your wine, as Nejire ran around you with her friend, singing loudly. Ignoring the two of them, you made your way to the Admin room, to swipe the card, not so surprised once you saw a crew of other players doing the same thing.

,,KENTUCKYCRIEDFRICKEN WHERE ARE YOU’’ you heard Nejire once she entered the room. Once she noticed the cyan color hiding in the crowd she hurried with her Pink character toward you.

,,Wanna watch me scan?’’ she asked, making you giggle as she just gave you the secret code, making sure you know that she’s the Impostor.

,,Nah, Imma pass’’ you said, getting out of the room. You were pretty sure she’ll win the game, since she had you and her friend on her damn side, but you did wish you could know who the other Impostor is. Ignoring her, you made your way toward the Weapons, to clear the damn Asteroids and just look for someone to play around with. These people were way too quiet for your taste.

,,Heyyyy what’s up man?’’ you almost screamed excitedly when you saw a dark blue character, hopefully a crewmate, standing there and clearing Asteroids, or you thought so. You forced your voice a pitch higher, giggling to yourself, knowing how stupid you sound.

,,Oh my god, how old are you?’’ the stranger asked. The moment you spoke, all the giggles were gone. That guys voice was so damn deep, you literally had to lit a cigarette before you decided to speak up again.

,,Old enough’’ you laughed, refusing to tell him your real age just now.

,,Older than 18?’’ he asked, as you were shooting those Asteroids, not that focused.

,, Of course’’ you gasped, rolling your eyes, like he might see you.

,, Thanks God.. Do you play Amongus often ?’’ he asked, not even knowing that his fucking voice was doing things to you.

,, Amongus is my favoire game’’ you said, finishing your task. The way he talked to you, you were almost sure that he was trying to troll you a bit there, probably thinking you are one of those uwu pick me girls.

,,Mhmm.. you’re up pretty late.. what’s your bed time?’’ he asked, and with that question you were more than sure that he was messing around.

,, Daddy beats me if I don’t go to bed at 9’’ you tried to hold your laugh, and you could almost hear the stranger doing the same thing you do.

,, Ohh, I could be your daddy and I would never do that to you ‘’ he said. In that moment, if it wasn’t for his voice, you would probably just laugh loudly and just go away. But damn, the way he said that.

,,HAHHAHA YOU CRAZY FUCK’’ You choked out, once you got out of your little dream, liking how he played along.

,, So that’s your real voice’’ he mumbled, small muffed laugh following the sentence, as you ran away from him. You didn’t hear a voice like that for a long time, and you really hoped that the dude will follow you around for the rest of the game.

Which at your surprise happened.

You were about to ask him some stupid question, but in that very moment someone found a fucking body.

,,Pink killed white and just jumped into the vent in front of me’’ some dude accused Nejire, and that’s when you knew that you have to jump in.

,, I saw Pink scan tho, so that makes you pretty sus dude’’ you lied without thinking twice. Yeah, you knew that it’s more fun if you play by the rules, and don’t team up.. but Nejire is rarely the Impostor and she’s always so damn excited when she wins.

,, Yeah, that’s Pretty sus… ‘’ your new friend said, probably believing you, since you two spent some short time together.

At the end of the short meeting, White was voted out.

You made your way to Reactor to do your task, and Nejire and her friend followed you, probably to look a bit clear to others. You hated the task you had to do, so you took your time, ignoring the loud laughs coming from your friend.

Shortly, the voice of Nejire was changed with the deep one.

,, So, what do you do usually?’’ he asked, as you tried to start the reactor. You had trouble with that task without being tipsy, so alcohol wasn’t really helping in your current situation.

,, I’m streets salesman of burgers’’ you joked, making him laugh a bit. Only to end up telling him that you are actually a student, having a mini job at the café near where you live. You weren’t even sure if his voice was making you speak up or the alcohol, but you almost found yourself telling him the story of your life.

,, Where are you going?’’ he asked you, as you made your way toward Electrical, stopping once the lights got off. You didn’t want to look sus to him, but you didn’t want to go there, since everyone knows that the first person that enters the room will end up dead.

,,Well, I wanted to go to electrical, to do my task, but not so sure about it anymore’’ you said honestly, running around him.

,, Come on, I’ll keep you safe’’ he laughed, and you followed him. The moment you were about to do your task, the game finished, showing how the Impostors won.

You heart almost skipped a beat when you saw In the chat box how your dark blue feiend was the second Impostor. You found it extremely cute that he had way too many chances to kill you and he never did. Instead of killing you, he was simply chatting with you.

CREWMATE

Usually you were the one to hate playing as impostor, always feeling the pressure and thinking that you’ll ruin the game for the other impostor, but tipsy like that, you wished you could be one now, and kill some crewmates around.

,, Doll, teaming ain’t nice’’ deep voice told you as you were downloading the data in the Cafeteria.

,, Awh, come on, she needs a bit of support’’ you said, focused on his voice more than on your task. ,,After all you just used me to clear yourself and look less sus’’ you added and he sighed loudly, acting shocked that you could even think of him like that.

You thought that the little play with the stranger will be just one time ‘’experience’’, but at your surprise he asked you for your instagram at the end. Usually you aren’t the one to share your personal information’s with others, and you also weren’t sure what you’re getting into, yet you found yourself giving him your username before you turned the computer off and drifted into a deep sleep.

Once you woke up, your phone was blown up with notifications, every single one from instagram. One text message and the rest of it were likes.

[Touyaf]:

,,Well, didn’t expect you to be this pretty.. super glad I met you there ’’

You smiled to yourself as you read the little message, with one of your post attached to it. Tapping on his username, your eyes almost widened in shock once you realized that not only his fucking voice was attractive. The dude was a motherfucking snack, and you had a pretty big luck that you found him in that silly lobby.

To Touyaf:

,, Heyy, you ain’t looking bad either lol same, let’s play together again ‘’

You replied, before you returned to his profile to like some photos he posted. Being honest, you didn’t know what to expect, but what you didn’t expect was a black haired guy, with piercings and tattoos covering his body. He definitely didn’t look like someone who spends his time on computer playing fucking Among us.

Hopping out of your bed, you made your way to get ready for the day. There were many things you planned to do, so you didn’t really want to waste your time. The faster you’re done, the more time you’ll have at the end.

After you packed all the post you had to send for your work, you headed to the bus station, hoping you’ll be able to catch the next bus. At your surprise Dabi was replying to your messages way too fast, making it one of the conversations where your eyes simply have to stay glued to your phone.

You found it almost funny how you ended up checking up your phone more often than usual, for someone you didn’t even meet yet. Sure, his profile looks legit, but the possibility that some attention thirsty freak is hiding behind that profile will be there till you meet him personally.

Once you finished everything up, you made your way toward the little Game shop, the one you were a well known costumer in. The now not so new Crash Bandicoot game that got out months ago was finally on the sale. You wanted to buy it the same day it got out, but $75 was too much, and it’s not like you’re shitting money.

The moment you bought the game, you wished you could fucking teleport yourself home, but sadly, you still had stuff to do and the game had to wait.

..

Your steps felt heavy, as you pushed yourself in the crowd, trying to keep your balance. Someone’s shoulder almost knocked you out, making your blood boil in just a damn second. Turning your head to the side, more than ready to fight, a smile crept on your face once you realized who you’re facing.

,, OH MY fucking god ‘’ you gasped, pointing every word out.

,, Woww, you’re alive’’ your cousin laughed, once she realized that you were ready to throw some hands. You really wanted to go home, but since ALL OF SUDDEN, both you and your cousin had some time, she forced you to go grab a coffee with her.

The two of you wanted to meet for a long time, but yet none of you could manage to get some free time and meet.

,, Yeah, Kai went to that Music program. The whole town was voting for him, didn’t you know that?’’ she said, talking about your childhood friend that always wanted to become famous.

,, Wow, strong community ‘’ you joked, acting surprised. Even tho he was your friend, you had to be honest. He couldn’t sing for shit.

The two of you ended up spending much more time than you planned to, and you ended up not minding it at all. You actually enjoyed talking about random shit form the last with her.

,, Wow, I didn’t think Bonnie is still alive. That dog could sense us from far away, so weird’’ your cousin said, sipping on her now cold coffee. ,, You think she would still smell or sense me if I would be on my way to your parents house ?’’ she added, eyes almost twinkling excitedly.

,, She can definitely smell your stinky ass’’ you joked, playing with the metal straw in your drink.

,, Oh eat shit, I’m sweating so much that I’m showering two times a day’’ she protested, slapping your arm playfully.

,,And even that ain’t helping’’ you laughed loudly once you saw her disgusted face.

The two of you finally parted ways, once you told her that you have some other important plans, deciding its better not to tell her that you’re dying to go home and play the game you bought.

You almost teared up once you were finally in your pajamas, laying comfortably on your couch and playing the game. You almost teared up, when you chose the retro function of the game, where you can get and loose life, thinking you’re the old school gamer. Oh, how fast you changed it once you realized how hard the game is.

After playing the game for two hours, you realized that you definitely won’t be able to finish it in one night. You were glad that the production was aiming for the old public, but you didn’t expect it to be that hard.

[Touyaf]:

,,The game is dope as fuckkkk, but too easy imo’’

You smiled when you saw that he replied to the picture you posted on the story.

To Touyaf:

,, Are you insane ? I’m on the same level thirty fucking minutes now :( ‘’

You replied, as you continued with the game, only to pause it after one minute of gameplay just to check your phone when you saw the instagram notification.

[Touyaf]:

,, Want me to help you?’’

To Toyuaf:

,, How ?’’

[Touyaf]:

,, Send me your address ‘’

Your eyes widened when you saw what he wrote, too scared to open the message he sent you. Of course you wanted to meet him, but so fast ? And at this time ?

Was that really smart ?

Well, it doesn’t matter if it’s smart or not, you ended up sending him your address, last name and running around in the middle of the night and cleaning your apartment anyway. You found yourself smiling the whole time while hysterically cleaning around. You didn’t know if he is living near or far, yet there was so much to do. It was very visible that you weren’t expecting any guests.

Luckily for you, it took him some time to arrive, giving you a chance to clear everything nicely and throw your clothes that were laying around into the closet.

The moment you heard the doorbell you got nervous like a little teenage girl that was about to go on her first date and the moment you opened the door, you were more than sure that you made the right decision when you sent him your address.

Was is possible that someone could be that handsome ? At one point you thought that he was just photogenic when you scrolled his Insta feed, you thought maybe he knew his angles. But damn, the dude standing in front of you was someone you would spread your legs for without thinking twice.

,,Hey, nice to finally meet you’’ he said, giving you a small hug which you definitely didn’t expect. ,, You look even prettier than on photos’’ he added, smiling at you.

,, You think? Thank you. You too’’ you said awkwardly. Usually you are much more confident, and you don’t have problem with communication, but the fact that this handsome dude you barely know, is in your apartment, made your legs shake.

,, I mean, you are really handsome’’ you added fast, trying to break that creepiness in your voice, giving yourself a mental facepalm once you realized that he was holding back his laugh. You almost looked like fucking Bella from Twilight. Was that necessary ?

,, What do you want to drink? Tea ? Coffee? Orange juice ? Wine ?’’ you asked, preparing the glass. He probably noticed how nervous you are and that made you even more nervous. Everything that could go wrong, is going wrong right now.

,, Well, I’m really up for some wine’’ Touya said as he sat comfortably on your couch.

THANKS GOD. You weren’t sure if you would be able to survive being in the same room with him while drinking a fucking chamomile tea.

,, You can’t beat this level? This one ?You can’t be for real’’ he laughed, as you placed two glasses and one bottle of wine on the table.

,, Are you dissing my gaming skills ?’’ you laughed, pouring the wine in the glass while he was playing the game like it was nothing.

,, Ah please, how many times did you paly it ?’’ you whined loudly, as he played almost perfectly.

,, Oh thanks God, you are a smoker, I was already stressing myself out if I’ll have to go out for every cigarette’’ Touya said once he saw you lit a cigarette.

After your second glass of wine, all the nervousness was gone. The two of you were having pretty much a fun time playing the game and drinking together.

,, What are you doing ???’’ he asked, almost screaming once you died in the game, without getting to the checkpoint.

,, MY BEST, I’M DOING MY BEST’’ You screamed back, throwing the controller to his direction, one again feeling defeated.

After that night, Touya started visiting you more often, and every night he would visit you, the two of you would drown a bottle of wine. You didn’t expect him to be such a cool person actually. In your opinion he did look like someone who’s full of himself.

Also, when you told Nejire that you met the dude from Among us, she immediately started lecturing you about how he could have killed you, totally ignoring the fact that you were standing in front of her alive and more healthy than you ever were.

,, Anyway, they have one appointment free today ‘’ Nejire said, as the two of you walked down the street, going to your usual café.

,, What are you talking about ?’’ you asked confused.

,, About escape room you stupid bitch’’ she said, hitting your arm lightly like she was talking about it clearly before.

,, Nejire, if the two of us go, one hour won’t be enough for us to get out of it’’ you pointed, knowing very well that neither of you is capable of figuring anything out on your own, especially not some scary ass escape room.

,, Ye, but I can ask Mirio to come, and you can ask the Dabi dude’’ she said, rising her eyebrows at you. Well that wasn’t a really bad idea actually.

Both Mirio and Dabi agreed, and while sipping on your coffee the two of you reserved the room. It was pretty much unplanned, and you had around 2 hours until your appointment, but you were really glad it worked out.

,, Girl, you should see my little sister today, girlie is only 3 years old, and she already flirts better than you and me together’’ Nejire giggled, as you gave her one questioning look.

,, She met some boy at playground today. You should see the looks they were giving each other. They even started talking in their baby language, discussing something’’ she said, making you laugh as you imagined her baby sister hitting on some other kid. You were never a person that could deal with kids, but her sister was really special.

Once the Mirio arrived, Nejire got all quiet, which almost made you laugh out loud, since she’s nothing like that usually. She did tell you before, that the two of them hooked up after one of the birthday parties you attended, but you almost forget about that.

,, What can I get you?’’ the waiter asked Mirio, as you and Nejire talked excitedly about escaperoom.

,, One Matte Lacchiato’’ Mirio said, trying to follow what you were talking about, while the waiter was looking at him confused, not sure if he’s joking or not.

,, You mean Latte macchiato ??’’ Nejire asked, trying to hold her laugh. The moment the waiter left, none of you had to hold it back anymore.

,, Dude, Matte Lacchiato ? Really?’’ you laughed loudly.

,, Fuck off, I’m not a coffee person’’ Mirio snapped, his face all red from embarrassment.

,, One Paccuccino please’’ you joked, making Mirio roll his eyes.

,, One Sepresso please’’ Nejire laughed loudly , while Mirio was mumbling something under his breath, hating the both of you in the moment.

,,By the way, I don’t like this thing, tastes like nothing’’ he said, as giving it to Nejire to try it out.

,, Out of 1 to 10, how many points would you give to this Matte Lacchiato?’’ Nejire asked, giggling, giving him a sign that she’ll never forget the silly mistake he said.

,,2 points. One for having balls to sell it, and another one because I’m such a good hearted person’’ he said, pushing the drink to the side.

The moment you saw Touya enter the café, you started waving around with your hands, helping him find you.

,, What took you so long ?’’ you asked, as he took a seat next to you. He looked good as usual, wearing oversized purple shirt, and black pants with nike airforce.

,, I was in the middle of a jog when you texted me’’ he said putting his both hands in the air, feeling attakced.

,, Oh that sounds fun’’ you joked, as you rolled your cigarette.

,, Yeah? I’ll call you next time to come with’’ he said, also rolling a cigarette, while giving you a side look.

,, Not that fun’’ you laughed.

,, dude, the last time we jogged together, she had to call a taxi to bring her back home’’ Mirio said, making Touya laugh.

,, Trueeee, I had to pour water all over her face when we were jogging together’’ Nejire added, remembering the accident that happened back in the days.

,,Oh shut up, I had to put your fucking legs up hoping you wont collapse’’ you laughed. Sure, both Mirio and Touya were in better shape than you, but Nejire ? Girl was on the same level.

,, And stop it, stop dissing me! I’m a victim of a hate crime right now” you whined loudly, as all of them laughed.

When the time came, all of you made your way to the escaperoom. After you checked in and paid, you and Touya went out to smoke one more cigarette since you had some time before the game starts.

,, So, what will you do after this ?’’ Touya asked, placing his arm around you as you puffed on your cigarette.

,, I don’t have any plans yet, why ? Wanna come over ?’’ you asked, mentally holding your shit together once he said that he’ll gladly come.

He was too close, wayyyy too close. You could even smell his fucking perfume.

Once the game started all of you were more than lost, having hard time finding the clues. You were in some basement looking room with tons of books. Touya and you found the first clue, some numbers written on the small closet as a code for opening the box that Mirio found.

Mirio found the second code, that led you to the box with the key that was opening the door.

,, Oh my god guys, there are number on the closet’’ Nejire screamed loudly, making all of you laugh.

,, Sweetie we passed that part long time ago.’’ Mirio said pinching her cheek. You were pretty sure that she was a bit lost, because Mirio was giving her way too much attention.

The next room was even darker than the first one, full of some weird family photos, crosses and blood. All of you were trying to work together, you agreed to use the Woky toky only when needed, yet the person who held it didn’t really give a shit about your agreement.

,, We need help’’ Mirio said, while the rest of you whined loudly since it was probably the third time he’s using it by now.

,, Dude, do you like the worker here ?’’ you asked him, as you took the photo of the wall.

,, No, why?’’ he asked you back, almost confused.

,, Because you are constantly talking to him. I swear you didn’t even talk to your ex that much ‘’ you said, making Touya laugh a bit.

The game continued with all of you in a rush to figure things out. One clue led to another one, and you opened some small room, where someone had to go inside to pull some weird looking rope.

Luckily for all of you, Mirio volunteered. The moment he pulled the rope down, some weird as cockroaches fall down on him, making him get out of the small room faster then he got in there.

,, Fucking shit, I didn’t sign for this’’ he whined, sighing in relief once he realized that those cockroaches are plastic one.

,, I swear, if that shit fell onto me, I would smash the red button without thinking twice’’ Nejire said in disgust.

,, This game is hard as fuck’’ you sighed, as you held some weird box with some knifes in your hand.

,, Wanna know what else is hard ?’’ Touya said quietly, making your eyes widen in shock.

,, Excuse me?’’ you couldn’t believe what he was asking you, here in front of your friends.

,, This cross. Oh my god, didn’t expect you to be that dirty minded doll’’ Touya laughed loudly, making you blush. In your Defense, he sounded like he was talking about his dick. He definitely didSl.

At the end, the 4 of you made it out of the room few minutes before the game ended. The moment you opened the door, you found the worker that explained the game and led you to the room standing in front of the very same door. Probably ready to get you all out.

,, This was so embarrassing ‘’ Nejire laughed as all of you got out of the building.

,, Yeah, imagine if we didn’t figure it out, what would he tell us ? Sorry but yall have to die now’’ Mirio said.

,, Well, maybe if you used the time we had for figuring everything out, instead of talking with the dude over the Wokytoky, MAYBE we would do better’’ you laughed, as Mirio told you to fuck off.

After Mirio and Nejire left, you and Touya made your way to your apartment, still talking and laughing about the whole game.

The two of you played among us, teaming up against some randoms on a whole new level. He was sitting way too close to you, like there was no place on the couch at all. Of course, you didn’t mind that, but you would lie if you said that you could focus on the game fully.

,, You are so cute’’ Touya pointed when you killed someone in front of him, not even hiding the fact that you are teaming.

He was complimenting you and being touchy with you more then usual.

,, So, are you really into daddy kink?’’ you asked, as you remembered the first time you played together.

,,Maybe ‘’ Touya smirked, focused on the game.

,, Naughty naughtyyy’’ you laughed, killing some other crewmate.

Once you had enough of the game, the two of you ended up just chit chatting about some stupid things, still in the same position as you were in before. The only difference was that Touya was slowly caressing your skin.

,, You wanna sleep over ?’’ you asked, once you realized that it was getting really late.

,, Well, definitely not if I have to crash on this couch’’ he said, making you giggle quietly.

,, Ah, you know I wouldn’t let you sleep here.’’ You mumbled quietly, avoiding eye contact with him.

,, Awhh, is my little doll implying that I can share her bed with her ?’’ Dabi teased. His arm was wrapped around you, rubbing small circles on your right hip gently.

,, Maybe ?’’ you said, trying to focus on anything else than his hand playing around.

,, Anyway, doll, I want to ask you something’’ he muttered, stopping his movements suddenly. You changing your position to have a better look of him, was your answer to go on.

,, Do play a lot with other people online?’’ he asked. You blinked slowly, not sure if that’s really a question he wanted to spit out. It seemed like it would be something more important.

,, Uh, I’m usually playing with Nejire. Why ?’’ you replied, confusion written all over your face. At your surprise, Dabi wrapped his arms around you, forcing you onto his lap like you were a small and weightless playtoy.

,, You know, I don’t like sharing what’s mine. ‘’ he expressed, placing his both hands on your tights, moving them up and down slowly.

,, Yours ?’’ you weren’t sure what was going on, and you definitely didn’t expect that silly question to go this way.

,, Doll, you’ve been mine the moment you sent me your address. What I meant was, you’ve met me so easily, I sure hope you ain’t like that with everyone on the internet.’’ His voice was somehow even more deeper than usual, and maybe it’s weird, but the position you were in was lowkey turning you on.

Maybe the fact that his behavior changed so fast, maybe the fact that he wanted you all for himself .

,, Honesty, I never share my personal information online, since you never know who’s hiding on the other side, but there was something about you. I just wanted to stay in contact with you’’ you responded, playing with your fingers like a lost child.

Instead of replying, he placed his hands on your cheek, pulling you slowly into a kiss, which you accepted gladly. It was the first time you felt such huge attraction for someone, and you were more than happy to give him anything he wants.

Maybe it’s weird to feel such a thing for someone you didn’t know that well, but everyone starts somewhere, right ?

His hands were going up and down your waist, lips never leaving your own. The moment you put your arms up, helping him remove the shirt you were wearing, you felt him smirk into the kiss. Once your shirt was off, he leaned back into the couch, having a better view of you, half naked sitting in his lap.

His right hand was playing with the strap of your bra, and the other one was holding you on his lap firmly. To him, you were the most beautiful little thing that he placed his eyes on, and he was more than grateful that you didn’t freak out because of his small confession.

You couldn’t wait anymore. Bending over, you connected your lips with his own again. His hands moved to your ass, giving it one good squeeze, before he got a firmer grip of you, pushing you up with himself and making his way to your bedroom.

Once he placed you on your bed, he took his shirt of, throwing it somewhere on the floor, as he climbed on top of you. All you could do was close your eyes and moan quietly once you felt his lips on your neck, sucking and biting it gently.

His lips were moving down, from your neck to your chest. From your chest to your stomach, leaving wet love bites on his way down.

Once he got so low, that he was almost between your legs, he unbuttoned your pants slowly, pulling your panties just a little bit down to leave kisses down there.

After few kisses, he gave you a sign to push your hips up a bit, and you did so. The moment you did it, Touya pulled your pants, together with your underwear down, leaving you in nothing else than your bra.

,, Take of your bra’’ he commanded, as he got lost between your legs. You wanted to do it, you really did, but once you felt his tongue on your pussy, you weren’t capable to even think straight, yet to remove your bra.

He was sucking and biting your clit, like no one ever before, making you throw your head back into your pillow as you enjoyed what he was giving you. You cradled your hands into his hair, as you felt thousand things at the same time. You’ve never desired someone so much, and the fact that the person you desired like no one else in your whole life was between your legs eating you out, was driving you crazy on a whole new level.

Dabi felt the same, it was the very first time he felt pleasure while he ate someone out, he was craving you like a mad man.

His tongue was doing wonders to you, and the moment you felt his finger slowly enter you, you squeezed your eyes shut, trying to get control over yourself.

,, Gotta loosen up my doll a little bit’’ he mumbled, savoring your pussy. The way he ate you out was getting sloppier and sloppier. Once he added another finger, your grip on is hair got stronger, giving him a sign that it hurts a bit.

,, Baby, how will you take my dick if you ain’t capable of taking ony two fingers ?’’ he looked up, smirking at you. Once you gave him a weak nod, he started moving his fingers in and out of you, slowly, giving you time to adjust.

Once he heard you moan, he started moving his fingers a little faster, as he started to rub your clit with his other hand.

,,Oh god’’ you moaned loudly, as pleasure took all over your body. Your orgasm hit you pretty unexpectedly, making you hide your face with your hands in embarrassment. You never came so quickly.

He definitely knows what’s he doing. None of your ex boyfriends made you cum so fast. All they did was simply missionary sex, with no talk at all. Few humps and done.

,, Open your mouth’’ Touya commanded, not giving you a chance to understand what was going on and why he wanted you to open your mouth for him. You felt two wet and sticky fingers rub your lips. You couldn’t even open your mouth fully, as he already shoved his two fingers in it.

,, Suck’’ grabbing your hands with his own and pushing them down, he had to see you, even tho he knew very well how embarrassed you felt in that moment.

Of course you did as he told you, as he held your chin, forcing you to look right at him as you cleaned his fingers that just pleasured you.

,, Such a good girl’’ Touya said, caressing your cheek gently, before he pulled his fingers out of your mouth, trying to free his throbbing dick out of the pants.

,, Didn’t I tell you to take your bra off ?’’ he asked, smirk forming on his lips. ,, Oh, so you don’t like to follow daddys orders ?’’ he added, climbing on top of you.

,, I ..’’ you didn’t even know what you wanted to say, you honestly forgot that you even had your bra on. Instead of saying anything, Touya only laughed, flipping you on your stomach, as he unclipped your bra in one movement.

,, I really wanted to be gentle with you, but if you are not capable in following small orders what will happen later with the big ones?’’ he asked, kissing the back of your neck slowly. You weren’t sure what to say, for you, that wasn’t a big deal, and honestly you didn’t know much about daddy kink.

,, Sorry daddy’’ you said, closing your eyes. It felt weird to call him daddy, but now that you knew that he likes it, you did it anyway.

,, Sorry doesn’t help doll. Daddy has to fuck you into obedience’’ he said, pulling the lower part of your body up. He took a good look of you, before he started rubbing the tip of his dick around your core. The view of you, with your ass up made his dick twitch, and he couldn’t wait anymore.

He shoved his dick into you with one move, forcing your body to move away from him out of the reflex. But Touya wasn’t buying that, grabbing a fistful of your hair and yanking you back.

,, You good?’’ He asked. You could hear concern in his voice, and you found it really cute how he suddenly changed.

,, Yes, that was hot ‘’ you said embarrassed, glad he was not facing you.

,, Good, because I ain’t stopping’’ with that, he started rocking his hips into you, as he pulled your head back, hand still holding your hair keeping you in the place he wanted you to be in.

So much about the concern.

,, So fucking tight’’ he groaned, as he fucked fast and hard into you, making your bed crack with every move. You found yourself moaning louder then before, it felt like he was forcing every moan out of you with every snap of his hips against your own.

The moment you felt his fingers on your clit, your walls squeezed around him. Once again embarrassed that you are so close, so fast.

,, Oh nah, you ain’t gonna cum yet’’ he whispered in your ear, leaving your clit and grabbing your hips with his both hands.

,, Ehhh pleaseeee, please daddy’’ you moaned, pushing the embarrassment away.

,, Baby, If you cum now, I’ll make sure you cum at least two more times before I finish you want it or not’’ he said, stopping his movements. Usually, when you had sex you were lucky if you could orgasm even once, since the guys only thought about themselves. You weren’t really sure if you could do it for him. You weren’t sure if you were capable to do it at all.

,, I’ll take that as yes’’ Touya laughed, moving his hips suddenly, his hand back on your clit and rubbing it so fast that he literally forced the orgasm he stopped few moments ago.

You moaned loudly, losing the power in your body. If Touya wasn’t holding you, you would definitely just fall down. He moved his hips slowly, making sure your orgasm lasts long enough for you to see the stars.

Once he was sure you are done, he flipped you over onto your back, spreading your legs with his hands, as he gave you one passionate kiss. You were too focused on the kiss, not realizing that he entered you again, only to realized it once he started moving again.

He was fucking you like there was no tomorrow, not breaking the kiss at all. You could feel his dick hitting your cervix with every move. You found yourself wrapping your arms around him, trying to find some comfort while he fucked the light out of you.

,, Come on baby, cum for your daddy’’ he groaned, enjoying how tightly your walls were squeezing him in that moment.

,, I can’t, oh my god, I really can’t ‘’ you whined, digging your nails into his skin, as he once again started playing with your clit. You felt both pain and pleasure while played with it, forcing the third orgasm out of you.

,, Of course you can, look at you, such a good girl’’ This time he didn’t slow down, letting you enjoy it, instead he was fucking you even harder and faster then before, making the orgasm that hit you almost painful, but yet still good and pleasurable.

With every move he did, you dag your nails deeper into the flesh of his back, moaning loudly not giving a single fuck if your neighbors could hear you or not.

,, One more baby’’ Touya groaned, hitting your g spot all over again. ,, Only one more baby, you can do it ‘’ he added as he rocked his hips against yours. You were so fucking sensitive, that you literally felt every vein of his dick rubbing against your walls. Maybe you were imagining, but it felt like you could literally feel the shape of his whole dick inside you, every inch of it.

He was fucking you in a reckless pace, once again rubbing your clit, while telling you how you’re such a good girl for him and how you’re gonna milk his cock so nicely. Once Touya felt that he was close, once he realized that he won’t last much longer, he started rubbing your clit with more pressure, forcing himself even more into you then before.

,, Come on baby, cum all over my cock’’ he groaned, as you moaned loudly. The moment he forced your last orgasm out of you, he groaned loudly as he was chasing his own high, painting your walls white with his seed.

The moment he came, he slowed down, still not stopping his movements completely. Fucking his seed deep into you. Because of the fact that you came fucking four times, and that he shoot loads and loads of his own seed into you, you were almost sure that you were already leaking on your bed.

,, Are you okay?’’ Touya asked, placing soft kissed on your neck, while his dick was still inside of you. ,, Did I go too far ?’’ he added, once he realized that you aren’t answering.

,, Oh god no, this was amazing’’ you whispered, tilting your head to the side. Touya kissed you, not being able to hold his smile at all. After the kiss, he wore his boxers and made his way to your bedroom, only to come back moments later with a warm towel.

After he cleaned you up, he helped you wear your panties, giving you his shirt instead of your own, before the two of you fall asleep in each others arms.

In that moment, you felt grateful for existence of that silly game where you met this handsome stranger. Who would have thought that Amongus can be a better match maker than Tinder.

You sure didn’t.

[hermywolf]

the thing that really gets me is that they live together. like. they probably have a grocery list and there’s “kale” in sam’s handwriting and “cookie crunch! :)” in jack’s and “peanut butter please” in cas’s and when dean goes grocery shopping he remembers sam telling him not to buy jack those cereals because they’re unhealthy and dean probably buys two boxes just to spite sam and see jack smile. they have movie nights and fight about which movie to watch and which one of them will make the pop corn, and cas probably falls asleep on dean’s shoulder because he hasn’t been human for that long and doesn’t really get how sleep works. cas makes plants grow behind the bunker. dean makes them all breakfast in the morning. they lend each other books in the library. they eat together. cas sits next to dean and reads while dean fixes cars in the garage and they know each other’s favorite songs and listen a mix of both and dean hums along to taylor swift and bon jovi while cas smiles when there’s beyonce on. when jack is sick cas tells him stories and dean gets all mother hen and makes way too much soup. they argue about which brand of coffee to buy. dean irons sam’s shirts with beer and it annoys the shit out of him. dean knows how each of them likes their burgers and even though he complains about some of their weird choices he still makes them exactly like they like them. dean will find sam asleep on the couch and put a blanket on him. dean calls cas ‘sunshine’ in the morning when he offers him coffee and calls jack ‘kid’ and ‘son’ and he tries to subtly feed sam bacon but never succeeds. he ends up buying actual vegan bacon and jack asks him to try it and since he can’t say no to those puppy eyes he learnt from sam, dean bites a tiny bit of it and hey. its not so bad. he starts eating it instead of actual bacon once in a while and when sam looks smug dean rolls his eyes and mumbles ‘shut up’. sometimes their clothes get mixed up and cas wears dean’s ac/dc shirt while jack likes putting on cas’s trenchcoat or sam’s flannels or dean’s jacket and looks all proud like he’s playing dress up because look! look how much he looks like his dads. they sit a certain way in the impala and dean sings along to led zeppelin and jack likes to stick his head out of the car window. they go fishing once in a while. they go on walks around the bunker. they have their favorite mugs in the kitchen and their favorite seats for movie night. they live together. they’re domestic. and it’s not just the four of them, because they probably also know all these little things about charlie, eileen, claire, kaia, kevin, garth, because they also stop by often and hang out now that the world isn’t ending and dean can just make them burgers and pies and they can have movie nights. it’s just. they’re a family. oh found family trope my beloved

[nemo-in-wonderland]

Stardew Valley - Carlotta de Saint-Exupéry

(gods, my brain is seriously glitching, I was convinced I posted this here, and I didn't).

anyway!

Good Morning, Good Morning everyone!!

Allow me to finally share the concept art/profile of my dear baby bean, Carlotta!! She is how I envision my Farmer on StarDew Valley to be like! A small ray of sun, with kind eyes and an even kinder heart!

To be honest, while designing her I went FULL IMMERSION into my most favourite among the manga and anime I used to watch as a child, so it's safe to say that I was deeply inspired by some of them (CCS and Clamp in general, and the Majokko genre in particular).

Also, the template is from here: x

So, allow me to share some more info about her!

PROFILE

Name: Carlotta de Saint-Exupéry

Age: 20 years old

Lives in: Nightfall Meadows - Forest Farm

Family: Bruno (Grandfather - deceased), Kipo, Calcifer; She has an older brother, Ettore, who she gets along with and that she misses a lot. She is not on speaking terms with her parents ever since she was 15 and she ran off from home and lived with her brother in the city.

Friends: The Wizard, Marnie, Leah, Gus.

Spouse: Sebastian

Loves: Coffee; Cappuccino Mouse Cake; Pancakes; Star Shards (she loves to receive them because she grinds them into Kipo's food, per their request); Rainbow Shells (she keeps them in a small box close to her bed. When she was a child, she used to scour for them, whenever her grandpa would bring her for a walk at the beach, and he used to tell her they would bring her good fortune if she kept them close to her bed at night.); Sunflowers and Fairy roses. So much. When it's their season, she always makes sure to plant more, so that she can keep some in the house.

Hates: Sashimi, Salmon Burger, Void Mayonnese (her brother tricked her into eating it when she was a child, and ever since then, she is absolutely horrified of even hearing its name), Truffles, Cave Carrots, Prismatic Shards;

Favourite Colours: Teal, Pink and Pale Blue

Hobbies: Cooking, and she is pretty good at it. Playing the guitar and singing. She loves to collect vintage garments that she likes to wear around.

(more under the cut)

TRIVIA

Her farm is called Nightfall Meadows for the huge meadows filled with flowers. Because of this, her farming is mostly focused on Beekeeping and Flower Cultivation. The Nightfall Honey is renowned in all of the Valley;

Carlotta's adopted cat is called Calcifer, in honour of her favourite character from her favourite movie (she is a Studio Ghibli Enthusiast);

When she speaks, she has a little lisp that makes her a little self-conscious (but that Sebastian finds absolutely adorable);

She is interested in magic and the preternatural and was interested in it even before she moved to her Grandpa's farm. She often goes visiting the Wizard, and it's safe to say that he is one of the closest friends she made in her time at the Valley.

One day, she found a capsule with something inside, and fascinated by it, she decided to bring it inside her home and take care of it, to see if anything would happen to it. And something did happen: a small alien came out of it, presenting themselves as Kipo, an impish little pixie that loves to spend their days picking flowers and eating sugary food. They adore Carlotta, and Carlotta adores them: she doesn't mind at all to have them floating around while she is busy working; in truth, because of how lonely Carlotta felt, during those first months at the farm, Kipo's company was of extreme comfort.

One of her favourite activities is to take her bicycle and go for a long ride down the path that would bring her to the beach. When she is done working at the Farm, it's not unusual to see her biking around!

Another activity she absolutely adores is stargazing. She loves to just sit on the swing built on the porch of her house, with a warm tea for herself and a few cookies for Kipo, and just look up, especially during the long summer nights. Once she and Sebastian tie the knot, he would sit down with her, wrapping a blanket around both of them and just gazing up together.

She loves to play the guitar, and loves when Kipo accompanies her in singing!

Carlotta always ALWAYS wears a hat. It's virtually impossible to see her without one. She even wears a vintage nightcap in bed.

Her last name, de Saint-Exupéry, is a reference to Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, the author of "The Little Prince";

A way to describe her is a small beam of Sun, truly a drop of Sun fallen from the sky, ever so gentle, ever so sweet, and always with a kind smile.

However, she's also known to have a short temper and could be stubborn like is nobody's business

And that's all I have now to share for dear Carlotta!!

If you have a farmer for SDV yourself, do not hesitate do drop by and say hi!!😊

Hope you will like her!!

- Nemo

[deluluass]

What bliss, domesticity.

for: @tink2kagome. i’m sorry it took me so long to work on ur pretty setter squad request T^T i’ll probably do like another one in the future! 

  & @lady-tokugawa-of-mikawa @belpomme @chaichai-the-weeb for being such lovely mutuals <3 <3 

Content warnings: rape/noncon; nsfw; yakuza/organized crime; gun mention; a lot of (non-sexual) food references in this one

  Jun’ichi Saikawa was obviously the kind of man who liked to laugh. Not unlike most people in their world. The kind who use their entire body when they do, announcing to the entire world with a bellowing “Ha Ha Ha!” how pleased they are with whatever’s going on in front of them.

  Which, in all honesty, was pretty admirable, that the old man could still do it considering how bored to tears Wataru was. 

  That it’s a humid afternoon didn’t help either. He could feel the sweat on his back even when the doors were already slid open, exhibiting a verdant garden filled with blossoms and shrub peonies. From his place he could see the school of koi swirling in the shallow pond, their scales iridescent under the warm rays of the sun. 

  “Didn’t know you were the funny sort, 'Kaashi!” Saikawa blurted out, the sake in his hand spilling to his fingers.

  This wasn’t Wataru’s first day on the job, but this is the first that he gets to do something this important. And with someone he highly respects, too. 

  So he gave his collar a light tug, steeling himself to endure as he tucked his legs further beneath him, and resorted to thinking about the many things he would absolutely surrender just to lie down on the warm mat. 

  His car, maybe.

  The brand new noise-cancelling headphones he bought, if pushed. 

  Wataru saw Akaashi nod.

  “I appreciate a joke every now and then,” he said.

  The larger man laughed again.

  “Here, here!” Saikawa thundered, snatching a tiny, yellow box from the maid who appeared as swiftly as she’d left. 

  “I heard you like sweets. Here,” he said, grinning as he handed it to Akaashi. “My youngest son just opened a cake shop. I know what you’re thinking, but who am I to say no, eh?”

  Akaashi passed the box to Wataru. 

  “Mind it for me, please,” he whispered.

  How unexpected. Akaashi-san has a sweet tooth.

  Huh. 

  That’s pretty neat. Wataru himself wasn’t partial to cakes, but he does love pudding. 

  “You are a good father, Jun’ichi-san,” Akaashi told him. 

  This time, Wataru didn’t bother suppressing a yawn as Saikawa fumbled for his phone, hiding it behind his hand as he stared at the birds chirping and hopping about outside.

  “Wanna see him? He’s much like you! Good head on his shoulders, that one.” 

  “I am honored, Jun’ichi-san,” Akaashi echoed back, peering down at the photos Saikawa showed him. 

  “He sends me a lot of these- uh,” Saikawa snorted, his nose reddened by the alcohol. “What do young people call it, the- pictures-”

  “Selfies?” Akaashi politely supplied. 

  “That’s the one! Look. Precious, ain’t he?”

  His earpiece crackled to life. 

  Konoha’s voice emerged from the static. 

  “We’re ready when you are,” his senior murmured. “Man, this is taking too long. Let’s get some burgers when we’re done.”

  “Akaashi-san,” Wataru croaked, feeling his cheeks heat up as he continued, “K-Komi-san and the others are waiting for you.”

  Saikawa perked up. “Ah, of course! Of course!” 

  He stumbled when he attempted to stand up. Akaashi was quick on his feet to assist him.

  “I knew I could count on you, son,” he muttered, patting Akaashi’s back. “Now, you tell Bokuto that what happened between us- it’s all in the past! All in the past! And if those bastards mess with him again, you tell him to run to old Jun’ichi!”

  Akaashi clasped Saikawa’s hand.

  “Thank you,” Akaashi said. “I’ll be sure to relay your sentiments to Bokuto-san.”

  “You do that, my boy.” Saikawa’s belly shook as he laughed. “Your generation’s a smart one, indeed. The in-fighting and wars, bah! All that trouble for nothing; that’s not your style. Your lot’s the future now!”

  Then, Akaashi stepped a few meters back and bowed. 

  Wataru followed behind him. 

  “We will be taking our leave,” Akaashi said. “It has been an illuminating talk, Jun’ichi-san.”

  The sound of the bamboo drip trickling water into another stalk permeated through the silence.

  It collapsed and clunked against a stone. 

  He heard the birds flutter away.

  When Wataru raised his head, Saikawa had already been lying face down on the floor. 

  And, of course, Wataru’s used to it: the crack of a gun muffled by a silencer. 

  He’s been practicing his entire life, after all. He actually doesn’t flinch anymore and Wataru thinks he should be proud of himself.

  It’s just that... how could someone who used to be there, suddenly...disappear? Saikawa was right in front of him a few minutes ago. Laughing and showing off photographs of his son. And now he’s...not.

  But, Saikawa didn’t disappear. Not really. 

  The blood seeping through the tatami is proof of it, but Wataru chooses not to look. In theory, he knows what a bullet through the skull looks like. He’d just rather not see today if what he’s taught reflects true in the real world. 

  Maybe some other time.

  “Wataru.” 

  Wataru flinched. “Y-yes?”

  Akaashi looked back at him. “The cake?”

  His body was still trembling and it took a lot of strength to not let it show in his hands when he gave it back to Akaashi, the box pleasantly yellow with doodles of doe-eyed eggs dancing along the handle. Unblemished, unlike Akaashi, who was sporting a splatter of blood along his cheek. 

  It’s surprisingly still cool to touch, too.

  “No, thank you,” he said, rejecting the handkerchief that Wataru offered. 

  From afar, Wataru could hear the faint melodies of an old love song being played by a car radio. No doubt Konoha’s doing. It followed them, growing louder the closer they walked back into the parking lot. The others bowed and sent gruff salutations along Akaashi’s way as they dragged bodies out of the Saikawa mansion. 

  (It was nauseating and Wataru wanted to pass out.)

  He pressed his nails harshly into the meat of his palm. 

  “A-Akaashi-san,” Wataru began. “I didn’t know that- that um, you liked... sweets.”

  Akaashi halted. 

  “No, I don’t,” he said, blinking. “But my wife does.”

  Wataru stared at him. 

  Akaashi went ahead. 

  He stayed that way— staring and wondering, until they stopped by the fast food restaurant that Konoha loved so much. Wataru couldn’t even finish his burger and fries. 

  By the time that they hit the freeway, Akaashi had already cleaned himself up and Wataru was still grappling with the word “wife.” 

  Of course he knows the man is married. 

  But, how, exactly, do you reconcile his reputation with the sight of him, every passing headlight sharpening his features, quietly humming along to Aki Yashiro? Who was longing for Shinjuku at night, the beauty of it, and oh, how wonderful it’d be, she said: a rendezvous with her lover, waiting for her under raining cherry blossoms. 

  Wataru figured that he was tired and starting to see things. 

  That small smile that graced Akaashi’s lips couldn't be real, either, especially those hands of his that held the box of cake like it’s worth more than gold.

He wasn't really particular when it comes to music. A song's a song, in Akaashi's opinion. Another form of noise that helps when the silence gets too overbearing. 

  But you, on the other hand, liked music. Listened to it the same way one eats their favorite food: memorizes the lyrics; goes out of your way to collect unearthed photographs and newspaper clippings that made the singer seem more human.

  You loved music— was probably the right way of putting it.

  Especially the old variety. He didn't get it at first. The sounds are dated; no one speaks in that language with that cadence anymore; the singer's probably dead.

  Well, Akaashi still doesn't get it, if he were to be honest. 

  Yet here he is. 

  His hands were wrapped around your waist, coaxing you into a slow— albeit clumsy, waltz.

  "Kei-kun!" you squeaked. "The dishes!"

  You dragged your slippers beneath you, struggling to wipe the suds off your hands. 

  "S-seriously, Kei-kun..!"

  Sure, he doesn’t fully understand what’s great about it, music. 

  Yet here he is. 

  Perhaps it’s because he immediately recognized the first few notes this time, that’s why he’s doing this. He didn’t even wait for the DJ to finish saying, “You’re still listening to Vintage F.M. Here’s a classic for you couples out there. Have a romantic night with Nat King Cole’s L-O-V-”

  Perhaps it’s because your cream stew tasted extra special that it made him shrug the fatigue off, giving in to the urge of pulling you close and taking your damp hand in his to sway and bob along the skipping bassline. Your bashful objections went in one ear and out the other.

  Sure, he’s not the type to do this, either, dancing. 

  Yet here he is. 

  Perhaps it’s because he knew that it’s your favorite song.

  Perhaps it’s just what marriage does to you.

  "Did you like the cake?" he whispered against your neck, inhaling the scent of cinnamon and the way your skin jumped as he did.

  Your breaths were shallow against his chest, but you managed a soft, “Yes, sweetheart. Thank you.”

  Akaashi caressed your back, kneading the tensed muscles as he huffed. 

  “Good,” he murmured, trembling. “Good girl. What a relief." 

  It was endearing, how offbeat the both of you were. A shame, though, considering that Nat King Cole’s fervently insisting on love; that it’s all that I can give to you; that it’s more than just a game for two. 

  So Akaashi makes up for his two left feet by joining in. He pressed his lips to your forehead. How strange, your presence in his life. What did he do to deserve you by his side, for this contentment that thaws away the chill?

  (He put a ring on your finger, is what he did. He deserves this.)

  “Two,” he droned, made giddy by the sparks in his belly, “in love can make it.”

  You looked at him, wide-eyed. 

  “Take my heart and please don’t break it.”

  He spun you around.

  “Oh my god, Kei-kun,” you gasped. “You can’t sing.”

  Akaashi’s aware of it all too well. He can’t carry a note; not him: the guy who’s had monotony ingrained in his very being. But that’s why he has you.

  A startled giggle left you as he guided you into a box step, the trumpet rising and falling over the strings. You stepped on him a few times, so he lifted you up, just so, and kicked off your slippers. Then, he set your feet atop his own. 

  He took you with him as he moved, waddling and careful not to hit his back against the countertop. It came as no revelation that both of you weren’t any better dancers even after this maneuver.

  Akaashi continued. Starting with L—

  “Is for the way you look at me.”

  “Stop, stop-” Your eyes crinkled at the sides. “You’re flat.”

  Akaashi persisted, anyway, taking your cheek to pepper kisses all over your face.

  “O is for the only one I see.”

  Your laugh was airy— light and buoyant all over the kitchen, like a fairy leaving stardust in its wake. Not gratingly booming nor demanding. After all, you weren’t the kind who felt the need for it: an audience to witness how pleased you are; how strong and powerful you are over everyone else. 

  Besides, your laugh was just for him. A private and intimate thing. And he was so lost in it that he almost forgot what’s been gnawing at him for the entire morning.

  Akaashi rested his chin on your shoulder, nuzzling the downy fabric of your dress as he gripped you by the hips. 

  “Where did you go earlier?” 

  The orchestra was in a joyous uproar, joining the rapid beating of your heart; the trumpet bright and clear, singing in harmony with the bass and saxophones and trombones, as Nat King Cole repeatedly guaranteed, as if an oath, that love was made for me and you. 

  Love was made for me and you.

  “I had to buy some groceries!” you piped up. “We ran out of ingredients. Sorry, I forgot to bring my phone with me. Oh, I have to run you a bath. I’ll tell you when it’s done, alright?”

  You broke away from him with a beaming grin, but Akaashi wanted to ask, despite the evidence of it before him. 

  “Are you happy?”

  It has already ended, the song. The DJ was signing off for the night.

  You nodded, playfully jabbing his arm with a fist. 

  “Of course,” you told him. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

  Perhaps it’s because you were never really good at pretense, no matter how much you hid behind needless noise. 

  Music. Laughter. Running water. 

  Akaashi sighed as he slumped down the nearest stool.

  Of course you’re happy. Why wouldn’t you be?

  After rubbing his eyes with clammy fingers, Akaashi fiddled them together beneath his temples. He released a heavy breath and fished for his phone in his pocket.

  He spoke after the first two rings. 

  “Wataru-san, I’m sorry for bothering you,” he said. “Can you do something for me?”

  His subordinate didn't ask him why, neither did he react when he'd stated his request. Akaashi knew, however, that the question was sitting in Wataru's clipped replies. The boy’s “yes, sir” and “understood, sir” were far too enthusiastic than normal.

  Akaashi didn’t mind, though, if he did ask. And despite that familiar pang of dread, Akaashi would answer him like the common— just like the average, everyday husband— with that characteristic, bordering on irksome pride that they have when they talk about their wives. 

  Why?

  “Well, Wataru-san,” Akaashi would answer. “Perhaps this is just what marriage does to you.”

The house was a house like any other.

  There was an old pickup truck parked outside the freshly painted gate, carrying crates of fruits and vegetables in its trunk. Along the bricked walls was an overgrowth of vines and ferns. It extended around the windows and crept up the balcony.

  A large Shiba ran outside and jumped to your lap as soon as it saw you by the driveway.

  Wataru heard Chiaki stir at the back of the car.

  “Pay up, asshole,” he grunted, waking a disheveled Ryota who’s still holding a half-bitten melon bread.

  His lackey cracked his neck and gave the scenery a cursory glance. “Could be a front.”

  Ryota grumbled and went back to sleep.

  “Idiot,” Chiaki clicked his tongue. “She traveled all the way to Miyagi just to give intel? And here? Of all places?”

  Three days. 

  They’ve tailed you for three days. Akaashi-san never said anything else, besides that within the week, while he’s gone and sealing deals in another country, there was a high likelihood of you folding and getting out of Tokyo. 

  To run right here. In Miyagi.

  He didn’t say why, really, but Wataru supposes it’s better that he didn’t. Because during the days of absolute, mind-crushing boredom, of watching some suburban wife go out for a morning walk, chat with her neighbors, and shop around the market, rinse and repeat, coming up with the Why had been their only salvation.

  The betting pool has two answers: cheater or snitch.

  Chiaki was insistent on the former, while Ryota stood by the latter. 

  And Wataru...Wataru could only watch, waiting with a bated breath as the door finally opened.

  “I bet it’s someone younger,” Chiaki said. “Usually is.”

  Seems that none of them were winning anything today.

  The man who emerged from the house was far older— who, oddly enough, resembled you. An  old woman soon followed behind him. Both of them looked at you as if they were witnessing a specter, or someone who's crawled back from the dead. An appropriate comparison, especially since they’re both wearing somber black clothes.

  It wasn’t his place to assume. Though he’s been promoted to a slightly higher position, it will never come close to the place that Keiji Akaashi occupies. Wataru knows all of these, but nothing was stopping him from putting the pieces together, no matter what little he has.

  They could only stare when all of you broke down into tears, locked in each other’s embrace as you knelt on the pavement. 

  Don’t let her stay too long.

  That had been one of Akaashi-san’s orders.

  So the three of them didn’t wait it out. By the time that the sun had set, Wataru had already stepped out of the car, taking Ryota with him. He made sure to remind the boy, just in case he’d forgotten.

  “Be gentle, alright?” Wataru reiterated.

  There hadn’t been any need for that, it turned out. 

  He’s sure you’ve never met before, but Wataru saw bitter understanding flash in your eyes when you caught them loitering in front of your house. Fear was there, too, of course. 

  Wataru was convinced that surely it’s a good thing. It saved everyone a lot of time, that way.

  You didn’t even say a word, only giving Wataru a stiff nod when he’d introduced himself, and remained like so on the ride back to Tokyo, with the strap of your handbag trapped by a clenched fist. Wataru didn’t try to initiate small talk; it felt unnecessary.

  It took a while for Wataru to realize that you also hadn’t bothered to change out of your pajamas, though he gave you a couple of minutes to say your farewells. 

  Pajamas, obscured now by a thick, gray coat. 

  Akaashi-san was right.

  You had no plans of coming home. Not tonight. Maybe not for a while.

  Wataru decided not to linger on it anymore. 

  He ignored the blank stare that pierced right through the rear-view mirror. And then, Wataru wondered, hand sweating in his pocket, what the three of them should have for dinner.

Thick chunks of pumpkin melted in your mouth with just the first spoonful of broth. 

  It'd been a while since the last time Akaashi cooked. So, more than anything, it was the sight of him setting plates and utensils that took you aback, greeting you with a, "Welcome home. You're just in time. Food's ready," his sleeves rolled to his elbows while donning your baby owl-printed apron. 

  The taste didn't. Surprise you, that is. He's a good cook. Unlike you, who only became marginally better one hundred burn scars later. 

  It also didn't surprise you that he flew back home at the drop of a hat. Even when he said he'd be gone for a week.

  "How is it?" Akaashi asked after chewing. "Took me a while to make it."

  It obviously did, you thought. When you arrived, Irma Thomas was already begging through the record player.

  "Do you need me, like I need you?" she implored, straight from the heart. "Look at me, I'm crying from holding you." 

  The last song on your favorite record. It was cheap and had the best from the artists you loved. 

  Etta James. Ella Fitzgerald. Aretha Franklin. The Mills Brothers. Bessie Smith. All in one vinyl.

  "Yeah," you replied, clearing your throat when you realized how hard it is to speak. "It's delicious."

  You looked back down to your bowl. The  tofu had gone untouched. Your food was still close to spilling to the brim, while Akaashi was almost finished with his, scrolling on his phone laid on the table.

  "So no one coaxed you into it," you heard him say, and that had ripped your eyes away from the broth like a bandage on an infected wound.

  Akaashi was holding your phone, reading the messages- his number was the only one there, as pealing bells resonated in the dining room. 

  "I'd think of all the things that I wanted of you," cried Irma Thomas. "To make me forget the pain that you caused."

  "I would've known if anyone else talked to you, anyway," he huffed, locking the screen before blowing steam off the morsel. 

  "You would," you conceded. The tofu was soft when you bit into it, sinking into your teeth.

  "I found that in our cabinet. Last time it was in the kitchen drawer, wasn't it?" Akaashi helped himself to a bowl of rice. "Don't leave it in stuffy places. What if you forget where you hid it and you won't know when I call?"

  "And I can no longer keep track of where you are for every moment of the day?" you could hear him say. Though he didn't; though all that could heard, besides the scraping of utensils, was Irma Thomas declaring:

  A fragile thing, like life. It just don't last so long.

  It could be for a minute or an hour. Or then again, from now.

  Your lips tightened with a grin. "I won't do it again, sweetheart," you said, spoon hanging limply in your hold.    

  He didn't need to say it. 

  That your phone has a tracker. That this house is still the same cage that it'd been before. That the only difference between then and now is that silver band on your finger.

  Akaashi’s blinked back at you as he sipped  what remained of the soup. You tried to do the same.

  The savory taste was cloying and it burned in your throat, so you didn't attempt to finish the bowl. It cut down to your heart, sinking heavily on your stomach, bile rising as the song came to a close.

  You gulped it down, though. You had to. And in the final moments, Irma Thompson told you what she really wanted. 

  "Make me forget," she said, "the pain that you'd caused."

  The chorus joined her. "Understanding is a great thing," she concluded. "If it comes from the heart."

  Akaashi was on his own phone this time. Most likely checking on the business that he left, judging by those furrowed brows and that long-suffering look in his eyes.   

  Fizzling noise came at the heels of the fading music. Then, it stopped. And there was nothing left anymore but silence.

  It's over now. Akaashi’s making a move to clean up. You were supposed to say, "That was a lovely dinner, honey." Or, you could tell him to sit down and watch a movie with you when he's done. 

  "I'll help you with the dishes," you wanted to say. 

  I'll help you with the dishes. It was so easy to say. 

  Instead, what came out of your mouth was a hushed call for his name.

  "Kei-kun," you repeated, brittle and weak and dry.  

  "I'm so sorry," you might've mouthed. 

  You could barely hear your own voice as you looked at him. Akaashi paused from tidying the table. 

  You're parched and a lot has happened today. Gathering the courage to take that first step out of the city had taken what little strength you had. The fear never left you. Seeing your old house almost ended you. 

  It should be physically impossible for you to still be able to cry. And yet there doesn't seem to be an end to your tears now, the same way your apologies unfurled in an embarrassingly infinite string.

  "Don't lock me inside here again," you whispered, clinging to him as he shushed you, wiping your cheeks with his thumbs as he helped you drink a glass of water.

  He carried you to your room and sat you down on the bed, right between his thighs. You sobbed into your hands, tears and snot on the sleeves of your pajama top.

  "I- I just wanted to see them. That's all. Just one day, Kei-kun. One day. I was gonna come back, I swear." 

  You're rambling. You're a madwoman pleading and bargaining with a stone-cold judge because playing house is the only thing keeping her alive. 

  And you messed that up you foolish, foolish girl.

  "Please don't hurt my family," you heaved. "They're all I have left."

  Akaashi doesn't speak, not for a while, but when he did, you bawled harder.

  "I can kill them all," he said, matter of factly. 

  It is true. Hearing him say it does not make it easier to take, though. 

  "I can hurt you the same way that you hurt me."

  Your neck strained as he tipped your chin towards him with a slender finger. 

  "I can break you," he muttered, not batting an eye.

  That, too, is true. You know it all too well. He said it with such serenity, still and undisturbed by the shaking of your head, because it goes without saying. 

  Except, you, too, know it. 

  When he is breaking. When he is falling apart.

  He smothered you, taking your entire body to curl against you, making himself small as he pressed his face on your back.

  "Yet- and yet I-" Akaashi sniffled. You felt your shirt dampen. "I've given you everything."

  When he finally brought his face close to yours, he looked so lost. Almost like a little boy who's on the verge of drowning,  clinging desperately onto a lifesaver and too shocked to shout for help. 

  You hated him all the more for it.

  "Each other," he said, snarling, almost, through tears as he grabbed your face with both hands. "That's all we have left, you hear? You and I. Husband and wife."

  He seized your jaw and turned it towards the vanity mirror.

  The room was dark save for the light in the hallway, peeking into the crack through the doorway. 

  But you could see yourself. And you could see your hand intertwined in his, your rings gleaming like muted starlights. 

  "We made a vow," he whispered, kissing your ring finger. 

  A detached part of you is astonished with how inescapable it is. Whether it be a reward or a punishment; a good day or a bad one.

  No matter what happens, you always end up like this, don't you? 

  Begging to him with your legs spread wide.

  You did as you'd always done when he began unbuttoning your top. 

  You go back to that autumn morning, when you first laid your eyes on him, a cup of coffee in his hand, and you thought that he had the prettiest face you'd ever seen.

  You go back to when he was just this really romantic guy who sent you flowers every day. There was a letter, every time. 

  Nothing too grandiose. Just short messages hoping that you'd have a great day ahead.

  He kissed your neck, wet smooches and long, flat-tongued licks dipping down your shoulder.

  He watched you through the mirror, his eyes a pair of darkened blues daring you to look away.

  Akaashi Keiji was your boyfriend, you told yourself. You dated him for quite some time before you married.

  Akaashi Keiji got along well with your father and doted on your mother. On Sundays, you visit them and they send you back to Tokyo with ripe watermelons. 

  Akaashi Keiji has never hurt you.

  The man tracing the hem of your bra, cupping your clothed tits and drawing lazy circles over nipples, however, did.

  (And he still will in future. He still is, right now.)

  This man is the real one. 

  And you have angered him, so he will not make this easy for you.

  "What did you promise me?" Akaashi whispered as he lightly bit the shell of your ear. "Or have you forgotten?"

  Of course, you haven't forgotten. You were chained to this very room when you made them, after all.

  "N-no, I remember," you said, catching your breath. "I remember, Kei-kun."

  "Then say it," he said. "Look at me."

  You shivered as his palms swept over your  stomach; as he unfastened your bra, letting it fall down your arms.

  "Look at me when you say it."

  You felt your nipples harden, gooseprickles spread all over you, as the air hit your bare skin, cooling the sweat that made it glisten.

  "Please," he rasped.

  The eyes of the woman in the mirror was hooded, threatening to close as she puffed with each squeeze and caress to her tits, swiveling her hips against her husband’s crotch as he grinded into her. 

  "I will be happy," she said.

  Akaashi nuzzled your temple, using his rough fingers to tease your nipples just as he did, brushing them to and fro, then grazing the bumpy skin around until you're squeaking out his name. 

  And when he began pressing down on the stiff peaks with his thumbs, before rolling and pulling at them, the heels of his palm digging into your tits, you saw the woman claw at her husband's hair, a graceless affair that almost scratched his eye out, making him reach for both her arms to wrap them around his neck. 

  "I- I will..!" Her lips parted in a breathless scream and it was disgusting how lewd she appeared. "I will not run away!"

  The streak of tears on his cheeks touched yours when he kissed you. His lips were soft and warm, his wet tongue gliding in so slowly as he deepened the kiss with a throaty groan.

  His other hand crawled down to your soaked panties. You couldn't contain the mewl that left you.

  Both of you gasped and struggled to breathe again after you parted from each other.  

  "You understand, don't you?" he rasped.   

  Two of his fingers slid down your folds, only to slither back up, then down again, smearing your cunt with its own slick.

  But he never touched your swollen clit, even though it's throbbing and aching to be rubbed and the hard bulge sitting between your ass grew harder the more you squirmed in his hold, whimpering like a bitch in heat.  

  You heard your husband sigh, his hot breath tickling you when he said, "This isn't about you now."

Belly pushed into the edge of the dressing table, rattling and battering against the wall with each forceful thrust, and your leg perched atop it, made numb by Akaashi's grip on your thigh.

  That was the first thing that you could recall when you opened your eyes.

  But your entire body was screaming in pain, so you knew that everything else that happened last night would come back to you soon enough.

  The flesh had a memory of its own. 

  You sat up with a groan and you didn't have to see the marks to know.

  His teeth were still nipping at you, biting you until they drew blood, only to follow with an apologetic lapping of his tongue. 

  You could feel him beneath you, his hands clawing you down to him, palms kneading your ass cheeks as you bounced up and down on his cock.

  You could feel him above you, gripping your wrists not unlike the cuffs that once kept you shackled. He had your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling you close to him, filling you up with loads and loads of cum, squelching every time he sank down your weeping hole.

  And when your vision began to blur at the edges, he carried your body, mere seconds into fainting, to the dressing table. 

  The evidence of that stared back at you in shameful streaks and smudges, traces of your fingers on the mirror when he rammed your cunt from behind.

  "Are you happy?" Akaashi whispered.

  You don't know. 

  When he's just your husband who comes home to your arms and brings you sweets because he knows how much you love them; who dances with you in the kitchen and listens intently to you when you talk about that cute dog you saw at the park, were you happy, then?

  You don't know, but the woman in the mirror, in that moment, surely was.

  She even said, "Yes, yes, Kei-kun, right there, fuck me right there!"

  Her pupils were blown wide, eyes rolling almost over to the back of her head. And despite the cries that escaped her, there was a wide, dissipated smile on her lips,  spit trailing down her chin.

  "Look at you," Akaashi said, grunting when your walls tightened around his shaft. "You're clearly happy with me."

  "So why? Why'd you even think of leaving?" He rocked his hips, grinding his thick cock against that spot that had you holding onto the mirror. "Don't ever do that to me again." 

  You told him no, no, you won't run away again, but it didn't seem to placate his unease, nor his tears.

  "I'm so scared, everyday, that you'll leave me and- and- it feels like hell. I would rather die." 

  He kissed your nape as he huffed and said, "Because I don't know what I'll do without you."

  You never really understood why; what about you had caused him to single you out in the sea of people that had vied for his attention. Especially now as you looked at yourself in the mirror.

  There were dark circles under your eyes and Akaashi’s t-shirt was rumpled on your body, engulfing you whole with its size— a far cry from that lovely, dazzling bride that his best friend, Bokuto, had described you as on your wedding day. 

  But you’re aware, more than anyone, that Akaashi Keiji is the last person to care about appearances. 

  When he entered the room, carrying a tray in his hands, he gazed at that disheveled girl with eyebags big enough to be dragged around the same way he looked at her when he waited for her at the end of the aisle.

  “I made you pancakes,” he muttered, clearing his throat as he sat down beside you.

  You were tired so it didn’t dawn on you as quickly as it should that he made them the way you preferred. Four fluffy pieces stacked atop one another, sprinkled with powdered sugar, whipped cream and a smattering of berries on the side.

  He fiddled with his fingers when you only stared at it, so you immediately took the fork in your hand and sliced the pancake in half.

  “I’ll be taking some time off work,” Akaashi said as you took the food in your mouth. You only nodded, having noticed that he wasn’t wearing the usual bespoke suit as soon as he entered the room.

  You felt him near you; felt his hand, warm to touch, cup your face.

  “I didn’t mean to hurt you.” His eyes were misty and, this close, it seemed that he, too, wasn’t in a good shape. “So please-” Akaashi licked his chapped lips, “Please don’t go.”

  “I won’t,” you replied, giving him the smile that you knew he needed. “I promise.”

  Then, as you moved to kiss him on the cheek, the chains that tethered you to the bedpost clinked softly beneath the blanket, and you didn’t bother to keep the tears at the bay.

  Akaashi wiped them for you when you said that you loved him. And when he asked why, you only shrugged and told him that the pancakes were so sweet that they could make anyone cry. 

[dcforts]

[like today]

ao3

Dean wakes up without a weight on his chest.

He stretches on his bed, rolls on his stomach and smiles into his pillow that smells of fresh laundry. He feels comforted by his room, and the simplest event of finding his slippers right next to his bed.

On an off day like today, he usually puts on his robe and makes his way down the chilly hallways with only the sound of his steps and the faint buzzing of the generator for company.

Some days, like today, Cas is already in the kitchen. Dean makes eggs while he sits at the table munching on cereals. It’s just a habit he picked up from Jack; he can’t really tell what they taste like. Dean used to snap at the kid for the constant crunching in his ears so early in the morning - now he’s used to it. He sits across from Cas and eats his breakfast.

Every other day, Sam walks in and wants to talk about a weird dream he had and what it could mean. Rowena tells him he’s got a gift he needs to learn to control, but Dean is not sure there’s much to interpret about a cart full of expired food. Sometimes Sam talks about a case he heard about or an article he read.

Some days he says there’s case not too far from there, and he’s thinking of going ahead, check it out, see if it’s something up their alley. Some days Dean even agrees to let him go alone without putting up a fuss.

*

Today, Sam leaves and Dean asks Cas, “You sticking around for this one?” – back turned, eyes down, hands busy. Sometimes he doesn’t feel brave enough to do that either, so he just goes back to his room and hopes to find him there when he returns.

He makes his bed, carefully smooths out all the creases. He takes a long hot shower, humming a song he got stuck in his head, styles his hair, puts on some clean clothes.

Then he goes to the map room where Cas is usually squinting at Dean’s laptop screen. Not too long ago, he used to knock on his door and ask, “May I borrow your laptop?”; now Dean just leaves it around, and Cas doesn’t ask anymore. Dean doesn’t mind.

It’s curious – he uses only three fingers as he types, one index of his left hand and the index and middle finger of his right hand. Dean had been about to bring it up to Sam one time, but then he thought of all the things Cas knew about him and never mentioned and decided to keep this one about Cas for himself.

While they research, they’re quiet for the most part. Some days, the table between them is covered in books, in pizza boxes, in weapons, in blood. Some days, they argue and storm off and some days, Cas makes Dean laugh and Dean makes Cas do that face that Dean likes.

If he's had a long night, sometimes Dean dozes off with his head on his hand and his gaze in Cas’ general direction. Bitter thoughts drift him away, like, how Cas probably shouldn’t be there, and how this was never a place for an angel.

A titan of the sky, confined in a human body, squeezed on a chair in an underground box. How his skin must prickle, and his wings long to be stretched. How long it will be before he won’t take it anymore.

Dean doesn't like those days. He gets snappy and irritable and Cas leaves and it makes everything worse.

Most days though, like today, he looks like he's exactly where he's supposed to be and when he meets his eyes across the table, maybe even exactly where he wants to be.

Sometimes Dean relaxes a little too much and he’s woken up by the sound of the coffee mug Cas puts down next to the book he fell asleep on. His brain register a looming presence and his insticts tell him to jerk away, but before that can happen, there’s Cas’ hand on his shoulder, heavy and familiar.

Dean heart slows down, he sits up and drinks his coffee.

*

Today is peaceful, but Dean feels a little more alive, like on those blue early mornings on the road that make you regret stepping out of your car without a jacket and the smell of gasoline filling your nostrils seems stronger than it’s ever been.

Dean opens up the police scanner on Sam’s laptop and checks his texts. Most days there’s one from Jody who just wants to check in, like she’s patroling outside of their bunker. Today there’s one from Claire, replying to a text he sent her the night before.

you on a job?, he asked

no, just finished one, is what she wrote back.

He writes, come by for the w/e. Then adds, he wants to see you and sends attached a picture of Cas that he snaps on the spot without him noticing.

A few seconds later Claire writes back, just admit you miss me. And right after, ok. And then again, kaia wants burgers.

Dean grins and shots back, just admit you love my cooking

She sends a rolling-my-eyes emoji. Dean snorts and Cas looks up.

“Claire and Kaia are spending the weekend,” he explains.

"Good," Cas smiles and then says, “You should make burgers. She loves them.”

*

Some days Sam calls and says there’s nothing for them, and some days he calls and says there’s something for them.

Today Cas is typing away and Dean has just sat down with a fresh cup of coffee when Sam calls and it’s something.

Dean is not too bothered. Outside the weather is bad, but the place it’s nearby, the job seems easy and they can be home in time for dinner. And if they hit the traffic, well, Cas will be there. They will be fine.

He will roll down his window a little even if it rains and Dean will turn the radio on, and a familiar track will start in just the perfect spot, right before the chorus, and Dean will sing along quietly, tapping his fingers on the wheel, under the grey and the wet and Cas’ gaze, curious and slightly amused.

*

Cas asks again if they have everything, like he’s packing for a kid going to summer camp (Dean tells him), and takes one of the duffel bags from Dean’s hand without asking, and walks past him, like he’s used to carry Dean’s clothes and weapons. “Do you have your snack for the road?,” he asks, climbing the iron stairs and Dean stops in his track, glosses over the snarky suggestion that he’s the kid going to summer camp in the scenario, and instead actually wonders if he’s got time to run to the kitchen real quick, but then he shrugs, shoulders his bag and says “We’ll stop along the way.”

They can stop along the way, like they sometimes do. He will get a hot bagel and Cas will down half his coffee, and they will stand right outside the store, where they can’t get wet but they can breathe and hear the rain. And Cas will say – well, Dean can never anticipate what Cas is going to say, but that’s the good part.

*

Dean tells him to wait for him outside as he brings the car around but when he does, Cas is not there. Dean turns off the engine just as the first raindrops hit, hit, hit the windshield. Today there’s something different, he feels, in the familiar, comforting smell of the Impala, something fresh, new, something that whispers to him that he’s got the whole day ahead and all the time in the world after that.

By the time Cas gets out of the metal door, rain is falling heavily all over the roof and Dean feels nowhere on Earth, surrounded by water. Dean doesn’t hear the door shutting, but spots the blurry silhouette of a trench-coated figure approaching. He turns the key in the ignition and as the lights go up, he’s on Earth again.

Cas is unbothered by the rain, as he is unbothered by most natural events. He takes his time opening up the backseat door to toss the duffel bag in, before slipping in the passenger seat, trenchcoat soaked, hair dripping and raindrops running down his cheeks. Dean’s lips quirk up. Cas says, “I had forgotten a book.”

Dean doesn’t care. He says, “You should dry your hair,” but Cas shrugs, “There’s no need.”

Dean reaches towards the backseat to take a t-shirt out of his bag. He throws it on Cas’ head and starts rubbing his hair and he's so startled that for a moment just lets him.

“Dean,” he complains then and pushes his arms away, “I’m not a child,” he says. His face is red and his hair wild. Dean counters his annoyed look with a grin, “What?” he says.

Cas shakes his head, “Can we go now?”

But Dean is not ready yet. Sometimes, when he's alone with Cas like this, he feels something grip his insides and tug at him to say something.

He usually wants to say, I’m glad you’re here, but today he also wants to say, we could let Sam handle this one and just go for a ride, we could stop only when we get out from under the clouds and we could watch the rain from a distance and we'll be standing in the light, and if we’re lucky it won’t be too cold but if it is, who cares? You won’t be bothered by that and I won’t be bothered by that either cause you’ll be there, he wants to say aren’t we lucky? aren’t we lucky that you’re with me and I’m with you right now? and I have this feeling swelling in my chest, I don’t know what it is.

And I wish everyday was like this, exactly like this, but I’m not sure what this is.

But when Cas’s expression blends into confusion and he blinks, “Dean?”, he shakes his head.

They’re fine. With the whole day ahead and their whole lives after that. He feels like tomorrow he can have anything, but today – he likes today just the way it is.

“Just thinking,” he says, starting the car and taking the road, “Having a good day, is all.”

With the corner of his eye he can see Cas dubiously looking out at the pouring rain and back at him.

Dean meets his eyes and gives him a smile to see if he can prompt one in return without saying anything.

Cas’ lips twitch for a moment and then he smiles back.

_

*about Sam's dream: to my knowledge expired food in dreams mean unfinished business and stuff of the past we carry with us (sorry sammy i thought it was fitting - i had the same dream if that's any consolation)

[writing-wh0re]

Hi I saw ur taking requests so maybe something in s5 Riverdale after the time jump and sweet pea and y/n have a little family and she works at the high school as a history teacher or something :)

All writings will be #writing-wh0re-requests

Likes are great but feedback is golden - Open to all feedback, I know there is room for improvement. 

Hope this fic lives up to your standards! Please enjoy it :) 

Y/C/N (Your Childs Name)

Pairing: Sweetpea x reader

Word Count: 1,380k

Warnings: None really, Fluff mainly. 

--

“Have a great break everyone! Enjoy yourselves!” I shout over the crowd of kids leaving the classroom, a chorus of ‘you too’’ filling the air. 

I quickly gather my papers and folders dumping them into my leather book bag as I rush out of the classroom as well. I lock the classroom door, having to stop for a second as my baby stirs around inside my stomach. 

“Woah sweet girl, I’ll slow down for you.” I say rubbing my stomach as I start to walk out of the school at a quickened pace. 

“Ah, Y/N, do you have a quick second?” Rick, the head of English asks as I huff. 

“Has to be quick Rick, I need to pick up Y/C/N.” 

“Just wanted to wish you a good break, plus Kathy wanted me to pass this little gift onto you from all of us.” Rick gestures to my huge stomach as I smile. 

“That is so wonderful, thank you, pass on my thanks to all of them.” I smile brightly as I look at the clear lidded gift box filled with baby booties, a baby beanie and a pacifier. 

“Have fun, enjoy your time.” Rick dismisses as I nod and continues to walk out of the school, rushing to be on time for Y/C/N, knowing he will give me sass if I’m late. 

-----

“Mummy! Finally, you’re just on time.” Y/C/N giggles slinging his bag onto his shoulders. 

“Y/C/N had a great day today, what did you learn today Y/C/N?” Kortney the kindy teacher says as Y/C/N smiles brightly. 

“I learnt easy maths” 

“Oh, baby that is great, I’m so proud of you, you know daddy is coming home tonight” I say brushing back the hair that has fallen in front of his face. 

“Daddy is home tonight! Bye Miss Kortney!” Y/C/N waves rushing to get out the door, excited that Sweets is home from doing his long haul trucker trips for the serpents. 

“Thank you Kortney, see you in two weeks.” 

I quickly waddle behind Y/C/N to the car, buckling him in as we get ready for our drive home. 

-----

“Daddy, we’re home!” Y/C/N yells holding the door open to our small one story three bedroom home. 

“Ahhh, Y/C/N, how are you buddy?” Sweets says picking up Y/C/N as our little boy wraps his dad into the tightest hug he can muster. “I’ve got to say hi to mummy, go empty your bag.” Sweets says as Y/C/N nods, walking into the kitchen to empty out their kindy bag. 

“Hiya daddy.” I smirk as Sweets runs at me, engulfing me into a tight but gentle hug. I feel my heart swell with love as Sweetpea cups my face with both hands, kissing me. 

“Hi Mummy, how are my two girls?” Sweets asks as he bends down to softly kiss my stomach. 

“She is very active today, probably knew her daddy was home again.”

“How was school baby?” Sweets asks, brushing my hair behind my ear. 

“High school kids are so moody and none of them care about modern history, it bugs me, they don’t listen, like it's cool to not care about school.” I huff as Sweets smiles at me. “History is an elective, they can choose not to do it, we don’t force them to do it.” I ramble as Sweets nods along. 

“Looking forward to the break then?” Sweets chuckles as I nod. 

“It’s good to have you home.” 

Sweets smiles wide as he grabs a hold of my hand and leads me to the kitchen where Y/C/N has emptied his whole bag onto the floor and can be found deep in the pantry looking for cookies. 

“Can I help you, sir?” Sweets asks getting down to Y/C/N’s level. 

“I need cookies daddy, mummy says they are only for special days and today is special.” Y/C/N attempts to reason as Sweets looks back at me. 

“That was the best explanation, I can’t argue with this little man.” Sweets says as he ruffles Y/C/N hair. 

I waddle over to the fridge, grabbing a bottle of water as I lean against the kitchen counter. 

“I’ll have to go to the bar tonight, Toni is performing and needs me, unless you need me here baby.” Sweets says holding my hips as I smile. 

“You’ve got to do what you have to do for the club Sweets, I get it, Y/C/N and I will have a movie night.” I say as Y/C/N nods excitedly. 

“Daddy, please stay.” Y/C/N pouts tugging on Sweets pants as he looks between me and Y/C/N. 

“Aunty Toni needs me buddy.” Sweets tries to reason as Y/C/N shakes his head. 

“I can talk to Aunty Toni.” Y/C/N sasses as Sweets chuckles. 

“I’ll talk to her buddy, let me see what I can do.” Sweets smiles, grabbing his phone as he quickly pecks me, leaving the kitchen to call Toni. 

“Once you finish that cookie, it's bath time okay.” I say as Y/C/N smirks cheekily. 

“You have to catch me mummy!” Y/C/N squeals as I smile rolling my eyes at my very energetic child. 

Before I can attempt to run after Y/C/N Sweets walks into the room with him over his shoulder, giggling like mad. 

“Well, It's officially a full family movie night, I’ll see the serpents tomorrow.” Sweets smiles as I waddle over to him, kissing him as Y/C/N whines. 

“Yucky.” Y/C/N complains as Sweets and I chuckle, kissing each other again causing more complaints to fall from his lips. 

“Come on my boys, it's bath time.” 

Sweets is instantly running down the hallway to the bathroom to bathe Y/C/N. I quickly grab my phone and dial Pop’s, ordering three milkshakes and burgers. 

-----

“I have one quick request and you’ll get something out of it.” I smirk placing my hands on Sweets chest. 

“Tempting, what can I do baby.” Sweets asks, holding my hands as Y/C/N stands next to us. 

“Drive to Pop’s and get our order please?” I ask as Y/C/N does a little happy dance next to us. 

“Milkshake time, milkshake time.” Y/C/N sings as Sweets and I chuckle. 

“That’s all you.” Sweets gestures to the little performance as I shrug. 

“Hey, you chose to marry me and have this little bundle of joy.” I state as I ruffle Y/C/N hair. 

“Okay, I’ll be back in fifteen, get the movie ready.” Sweets says kissing both of us on the head as he leaves to pick up dinner. 

“Monsters Inc, daddy and I talked about it.” Y/C/N declares walking into the lounge room as he starts to hunt for the dvd. 

“Good choice baby.” I say helping him get the movie ready. 

“Go get your pillows and blankets baby.” I say as Y/C/N runs to his room. 

-----

I wake up with a kink in my neck, looking around my surroundings all of us having fallen asleep before the movie had even ended. 

“I’m too scared to move and wake him.” Sweets whispers as I look and see Y/C/N laying in an odd position on Sweets. 

“He has been sleeping like a rock lately, I have to go to our bed, your little girl hurts my back.” I say rubbing my pregnant stomach as Sweets nods. 

“Of course baby, I’ll meet you in there, I’ll carry him to bed.” Sweets says as Y/C/N falls limp, light snores coming from his mouth as Sweets shifts his weight and carries him to bed. 

I get into our bedroom, pulling down the covers as I get into bed, the comfort of the mattress relaxing my sore muscles. 

I feel my eyelids get heavy, fighting sleep to try and wait for Sweets to get to bed. Deciding to wait for him with my eyes closed, a little rest. 

I feel the bed dip beside me, my eyes opening to see Sweets getting into bed shirtless, hair damp, the smell of his body wash filling the air. 

“I’ve missed you.” I cry slightly as Sweets pulls me closer to him.

“I’ve missed you too baby, I miss my little family so much.” Sweets sniffles as I hold him tight, sniffling as well.

“Shh baby, lets sleep.” Sweets coos as I snuggle into the comfort of my husband, savouring every moment I have with Sweets before he hits the road again.

[neo-culture-mafia]

Mafia!NCT 127 Reaction to You Coloring Their Tattoos

Hyuck + Mark in the Dream Reaction

not proofread yet

[ posted 09 / 10 / 2020 ]

Taeyong

He had no hesitation letting you color his tattoos. "Have fun, babe." He pinched your cheek and relaxed under the big tree you were both sitting under. Today was a cool and relaxing day as Taeyong had thrown all his plans away to be with you all day.

The dragon on his bicep was now stained in hues of purple and green with accents of neon yellow creeping up his shoulder. "So, besides today, how have you been lately?" His gaze swayed from you to the inside of his eyelids as he was drifting to sleep slowly. "Okay, I suppose. Work is annoying." You laughed and his heart twinged with love. "My students are definitely taking advantage of the wedding to slack off with their work." You chuckled and Taeyong took notice of the cool metal ring that laid on your left hand. It had never looked more magical than right now. The wedding was a fairytale story to think about in another time and place. It was the talk of the town. There wasn’t a reason the students shouldn’t be talking about it.

"They're kids. They're going to goof off for a while." He laughed and looked down at his arm. The color stuck inside the lines and stained your hands wildly. Your yawn brought his attentive eyes to your sleepy frame. "Tired, already?" He laughed as you could only shrug with a sheepish grin stuck on your face.

"Come here. Let's just rest for a little bit then." He pushed the markers into the grass and his arm wrapped itself around your waist as he pulled you down and into his side. You couldn't fight it as your ear was filled with the sound of his mellowing heartbeat. His fingers danced in your hair and danced along the curves of your cheekbones till he knew you were fast asleep.

He stayed awake just looking at your angelic features as the sight of his multi-colored arm shifted his focus. It was so meaningless to you but he loved it as he knew that it came from your heart and mind.

It was you-- perfect.

Taeil

"If I have to sit through one more of these stupid underboss meetings then I swear I'm going to go ballistic-" Taeil cut you off with a laugh. "I don't want caviar and fancy fish with wine! I want chicken nuggets shaped like dinosaurs with a coke!" You whined as he walked in the bedroom, one hand shoving the dress shirt underneath the hem of his dress pants.

"I know, cutie. Just a couple more meetings this week then I promise I'll take a week off and we can go and take a vacation." He pulled your hands and guided you to the bathroom where an elegant dress hung on the hooks of the door. Matching with Taeil was something you looked forward to with events like these. Yet, the event itself was throwing you off.

You got dressed and stared at yourself in the mirror. The thin red spaghetti straps danced on your shoulders as it contrasted with your dark black tattoos. The heels were uncomfortable as they carried you through the door and to the base meeting house.

You sat between Taeil and Johnny who decided to come alone and without his wife. 'lucky bitch' you thought. Taeil's hand protectively gripped the inside of your thigh. The stares of the foreign feeling underbosses littered across the room. Their aura made a shiver go down your spine as Taeil read out the news from Neo Culture's territory.

Your hand rested on top of his as your thoughts drowned out your husband's usually sweet voice. You traced the tattoos on his hand lightly with your finger. You grabbed an extra pen from Johnny's seat place and started to add onto Taeil's tattoos. The red and blue inks clashed with each other even though they laid right by one another.

Taeil gripped your wrist harshly to get you to stop but the spiteful feeling sparked in your head. You grabbed his hand with your other hand and forced it on your lap. You continued drawing and coloring the shapes and words with a vengeful attitude coursing through your veins.

A break was reached and all the underbosses were dismissed from the meeting room to the dining room where food was going to be served. Yet, once the room was cleared he grabbed your wrists once more. "What the hell are you doing?"

You automatically started to pout as you deemed that this wasn't fun anymore. "I was just trying to get your attention." You mumbled as you got up and walked out of the big wooden doors. Taeil sighed and took a deep breath. He looked down to see hearts of blue and red around your initials he had tattooed on his thumb. Tiny cartoon characters danced across his hand and he realized he was overreacting.

He got up to go after you and caught you walking slowly to the dining room. He came up behind you and slipped a hand on your lower hip. "I'm sorry, baby." Taeil sighed and kissed your cheek warmly.

You shook your head and leaned into him. "No, I shouldn't have kept going when you said to stop. I'm sorry." You confided as you both turned into the room where everyone was already seated. "Here, how about this," he whispered. "Eat a little bit of food then me and you can go out for burgers after everyone leaves." He said and the look on your face gave him the energy to get through the next hour and a half.

"Really?" You asked and he nodded. You grabbed his face and gently kissed his cheek. "Now you have my seal of approval." You laughed as you rubbed the faint mark of lipstick off of his face.

You sat down ready to shove down the nasty fish eggs and wine that was about to be served.

Johnny

Nobody understood how Johnny got you to be his wife. Everyone thought that the differences would've drowned out the connection. Yet, anybody who doubted was silenced when they spent an hour with you both. The strongness of Johnny seemed minimalized whenever you walked into the room. It was quite magical.

You and Johnny sat on the 127 squad jet, bound towards New York where you both would be staying for 3 months for protection. The family was threatened with the wives and partners coming under the harshest threats.

Johnny took you and didn't look back. You were working an 18-hour shift at the hospital and he came with no warning. Just grabbed you and left.

Jaehyun and his wife were on the way to Connecticut while Mark and his girlfriend were on their way to New York too. Johnny, Mark, and Jaehyun were to meet in New York in their respective spaces to set out a plan of action. After that, Mark would spend a month in New York, then go up to Toronto, spending his last months in Vancouver. Johnny is splitting the trip up into half in New York, the rest in Chicago. Jaehyun was taking his chances by staying in Connecticut. Yet, he said he wouldn't hesitate running West if needed.set out a plan of action. The sudden news threw you off guard.

You sat with Johnny in the back of the plane in dead silence. "I'm scared." You admitted. "Why?" He asked as he turned his phone off and threw it on the table in front of both of you.

You curled up on the couch next to him, latching onto his arm protectively.  "Nothing is going to happen, sweetie." He came up to twirl your hair calmly as your heart started to race more. It was too quiet.

"Here, let's find something to do." He sighed and stood up, rummaging through the closets and storage of the plane. In a moment he returned with a pack of markers. "No paper." He frowned and sat back down with a tired sigh.

You reached forward to bring the thin cardboard box into your hands. You felt his hand rest on the small of your back as you pulled the markers out and twirled them in-between your fingers.

You looked to him to see his head leaned back and eyes shut. You grabbed his suit jacket and tugged. His head snapped up and it took him a minute to understand what you were getting at. "Oh." He sighed and shook the material off of his torso.

A simple t-shirt had been hidden underneath his blazer as you laid your eyes on his tattoos. He didn't have any hesitation as he rolled up his already short sleeves and got comfortable.

He was preoccupied with his phone as you hummed to yourself. You traced the sunflower in green and made tie-dye art on his forearms. Johnny was content with the silence and the fact he knew that you were okay and occupied.

"Wanna listen to some music, babe?" He asked as he opened his music app. "Duh." He clicked the playlist you had made for him and laughed as he watched you sing terribly into the marker. He studied your figure and facial expressions as you got caught up in coloring again. "This dragon is now going to have whiskers." You nodded but stopped quickly. "Or a mustache?" You looked at Johnny and he shrugged. "He'd look cute with some whiskers." You took the idea and plopped whiskers on the face of the dragon.

An associate who tagged along for the trip came into the back room with refreshments for the two of you. You both gladly accepted and were left alone again. "Gummy bears?" These are perfect. He threw the package at you but it went untouched as you kept drawing.

He could only laugh to himself as he opened the package for you and pulled a singular bear out. Johnny held it to your lips and was happy to you take it without much thought. You finally were happy with your artistic decisions and showed Johnny the finished piece.

"It's so nice, y/n!" He smiled and it felt like your brain was mush. You sat next to him with a content smile and a small yawn.

"Tired already?" at which you could only shrug as a response. "Then let's just watch some videos and relax." He kicked his feet up and pulled you so you were on his lap.

Johnny's phone played random videos as you latched onto him and went to sleep. He took some photos to set as his wallpaper and ultimately decided to join you in a nice nap.

(rrruuudddeee)

~~~

Yuta

"Yuta!" You called as you stepped into the large house. "I believe he's in the gazebo or his office, Miss." One of the worked associates greeted you at the front door. He grabbed the bags from your arms as you bowed politely. "Thank you so much." You were off towards the back of the house to find your husband.

"Yuta-!" You called as you rounded the corner of the house and into the back yard. The gazebo that laid just beyond the wood bridge that sat above the koi fish river-- was empty. You stopped and stared for a moment. You were sure that this is where he'd be.

"Up here, my love." A voice made you jump as you looked up to see Yuta at his office balcony. "Oh. Hi!" You waved as his eyes squinted in a smile. "How was your day out?" He asked as he brought his teacup up to his lips. "It was wonderful! I have something to show you!" You called and held up a small shopping bag in your hand. "I'll be right up!" You raced back into the house and up the stairs to where he already stood waiting for you in the doorway to his office.

"What's so amazing that you found today?" His eyebrow raised and you opened the bag quickly. "But first-" He interrupted you as he grabbed your face gently and gave you a passionate kiss. "What's this for?" You asked as he continued to stare at your face lovingly. "Just happy to see you is all." He smiled as his hands found their way into his pockets.

"Now, show me." He motioned to one of your hands that was stuck in the bag you held. You were brought back to reality and pulled the plastic package out of the bag.

"...Markers?" He asked and his tone of voice made you laugh. "Not just any markers. They're tattoo markers. They're safe for the skin." You corrected him and he rolled his eyes. "You're still on this?" Yuta asked with an amused expression. "Of course I am! This was the deal." You said shoving them into his hands so he could inspect the box.

He read the back and he had to admit...you were right.

"You said I could color your tattoos IF I found tattoo markers. Safe for the skin and everything!" He knew you did it...and that he had to hold up his part of the deal. "Okay fine." He sighed as he handed the package back. "Yay! Thank you!" You jumped and laid a gentle kiss on his cheek.

"We can do it later before dinner." He agreed and watched you skip happily down the hall.

---- "Finally! You take forever." You sighed as you moved your sunglasses up your nose. The grass tickled your bare legs as Yuta sat next to you. "I couldn't help it. Taeyong didn't want to hang up the phone." You stood on your knees and moved behind Yuta. Your hands gently rubbed his shoulders as his head fell in an exasperated manner.

"I hate to burst your bubble, Yuta. But, I called you out here for the deal. Not a massage." He whined as he flopped down on the grass, his t-shirt lifting on his back. His head rested on his folded arms as you silently cheered.

"If this stains, I will make sure to throw out all color in your life. Your life will be a dull kaleidoscope-" "Yeah, yeah, yeah. Whatever you say, you big baby." You laughed and opened your pouch full of the tattoo markers.

You lifted the back of his shirt more till the full picture was revealed. A full mural was printed on his back with black ink that curved and straightened out into different objects. A dragon with demons following was the full picture...a dark reality...that you were going to make colorful.

You sat on his lower back and got to work filling in the different parts of the dragon. Every once in awhile he would spasm and try to make you mess-up. Yet, with a tug on his hair, he would become limp and obedient again.

"I'm almost done." Was the phrase that almost made him weep with joy. "Finally." He let it slip and he felt a tug on his hair again. "Ow." He rubbed his head. He could feel you draw and move the felt-tipped weapons on his back.

"Finished." You cheered and grabbed his phone to take a picture. You showed it to him and ombre scaled decorated the dragon with the demon's faces were colored red and blue. It looked nice. He saw a couple of smiley faces hidden in there and felt like everything looked complete.

"Okay, my turn now!" He yelled and grabbed your arm. He pulled you to the ground and grabbed the black marker that was in your hand. "Yuta, no." You tried fighting him. "This wasn't apart of the deal." You thrashed but he pinned you under his body weight. "Excuse me? Sorry, I don't speak Japanese." His Korean rambled off quickly from his tongue. You decided to just deal with it as he took his time drawing a mustache on your face along with random doodles he could think of.

He finally stopped his antics and took a picture with his phone to look at afterward. "You look so cute, look!" He pulled up the picture and shoved it in your face. "I look gross man!" You ridiculed but he wrapped you up in his arms quickly,

"My gross man."

Doyoung

"I thought they were going to be here already." You whined as your head hit the wall behind you. "Oh, can you stop whining for once?" He groaned as he took off his bulletproof vest. The air seemed to be getting thinner as the seconds ticked past. He stretched his legs out so they touched the opposite wall of the tiny bank vault. The velvet flooring seemed sticky as it felt like your chest was getting heavier.

You stood up and went to the closed door. Kicking and banging seemed like the only viable option. You pounded and kicked as hard and as much as you could with no luck. Tears stained your eyes as you turned around to look for another option out of here. "It's getting smaller." You whispered and Doyoung took the opportunity. "You're right, y/n. I can feel the walls pushing in!" He yelled and started to thrash and roll around on the ground. You could swear that the walls were shrinking and coming closer together. You dropped to the floor with your hands over your head, ready to be crushed by the vault walls.

Doyoung was pissed and vengeful in the beginning but now he just felt bad. You sat there silently crying as you rocked yourself back and forth. Doyoung sat opposite of you and just stared, waiting for you to snap out of it, yet, there was no hope as he watched you bring your legs closer to your chest.

He pushed your shoulder and you backed away from him quickly. "Calm down. You're wasting our air." He deadpanned. You could only nod and wipe the tears away from your eyes.

"Wanna play tic-tac-toe?" He asked and you looked around, surprised he was asking in a moment like this. "Um-" He didn't wait for an answer and grabbed your legs-- pulling you closer to where he sat.

Doyoung reached into your vest you were wearing and pulled an assortment of permanent markers out. You wiped the rest of your tears and grabbed the orange marker out of his hand. He lifted the sleeve of his long shirt and created the grid in black ink. "Wanna go first?" He asked and you took the opportunity to land an 'X' in the grid.

He followed soon after you and in no time-- he won.

Another game and another and another till no space was left. An hour had passed and you were still stuck in the bank vault.

"Fine. You win this tournament. But, I know I'll win next time." Doyoung said laying back and closing his eyes. The sweat from his bangs dripped down the side of his face.

The bottom of his shirt lifted and you could see the familiar black ink on his side. "Stop staring at me like that, pervert. I have rights." He pulled his shirt down and you let a laugh rip through your chest.

"Chill. I was just looking at your tattoo." You said and he shrugged. "What about 'em?" He asked as his eyes closed once more. "Nothing. Just looking," you sighed, "I wanted to be a tattoo artist before all of this." You motioned around the velvet interior. One eye peeked open and he looked suspiciously at your figure. "Are you any good?"

You stood on your knees and lifted your shirt so he could see the piece you were in the middle of finishing. Dragon and koi fish laid on your ribs in red ink.

"Woah." He lifted himself closer and gently touched the healing ink. "You did this yourself?" You nodded as he inspected it for a good minute.

"Give me one!" He said and shoved the red sharpie in your hand. He didn't give you time before laying on his side in a straight line. He lifted the side of his shirt and waited patiently.

You shrugged, finding nothing else better to do. He already had black ink staining his skin so you decided to add on. It was another simple dragon but it fit his character and personality perfectly.

Time seemed to slow as he tried to take a sneak peek of the masterpiece you were currently working on. He planned to take a picture later and get it done, yet, it would have to be in secret.

All of a sudden, the door popped open and cool air filled the small compartment. "Welcome back to Earth." Chenle greeted. You capped the marker and grabbed your vest as quickly as Doyoung.

You both high-tailed it out of the bank and into the street where the van was waiting with open doors. Doyoung and you jumped and rolled onto the back-ground of the van and the door was slammed shut by Jaehyun.

"Sorry about that. Jungwoo spilled Sprite on the control panel." Jaehyun explained and a guilty-looking Jungwoo sat in the passenger seat, not making eye contact.

"Woah. You got a new tattoo?" Jaehyun lifted Doyoung's shirt up more to see the red dragon you had drawn.

"Eventually."

(tf is this?? i’m not even correlating the gif with the story...because what in the actual fuck is THIS????)

~~~~~

Jaehyun

He was a very demanding man with particular tastes. You sat by yourself in your underground shop when a swarm of men came in all at once. They lead the way for a man in a sharp business suit.

I'm about to get shut down...aren't I?

He looked at you for a moment before looking around and coming towards you. "Are you the shop owner?" His voice was smooth with undertones of threatening. "Depends on who's asking," I answered honestly, "If it's for ink work or compliments: me. If you have any problems then I'll turn you over to my manager, Lucifer." You wiped down the glass counter in front of you. His chuckle rang sliced through the thick tension.

"Lucifer." You sang and made kissy noises. A long black haired cat hopped onto the glass counter next to you, hissing at the men and laying on its back. His back stretched as his paws grew long and pointy nails only for a moment. "Oh be nice, Luci." You called and picked the cat up in your arms.

"So how can we help you today?" You smiled and the man looked at you and sighed. "This will do." He called over his shoulder and you heard a bang of your shop door. Men walked around you to your workroom and began going through your papers. "Do you have any affiliations with any gangs in the local or surrounding areas?" The man asked as you dropped the cat onto the glass.

"No." You blurted and it was met with a smile. "Well, you have caught the interest of Neo Culture-" "Oh hell no." You shook your head and came around the counter. You pointed towards the staircase that was capped with the 'exit' door. "Leave." You demanded, yet, he stood still.

"I don't think you understand how this works." His smile made you shiver. "You were picked. You can't just...refuse." He motioned to the room. "You are on Neo Culture property and territory. You will work for us in exchange for a pretty...hefty amount of cash-" "And a bullet in my head if another gang comes by?" You questioned with your arms crossed over your chest. "Well, you don't need to worry about that till they show up...do you?" His reasoning made you angry.

"I just want a simple fill-in today. And if you do well, then you'll be taken care of." He went into his coat pocket and pulled out a stack of paper. "Rent, bills, groceries, and spending money. Not to mention guaranteed protection from the most feared crime family in the Asiatic continent." He smiled as he handed over the piece of paper.

You looked at it and it was of a dragon that needed to be shaded and filled in. You knew that you needed to do this...or say bye-bye to your shop and dreams.

You sighed and looked at Lucifer who sat grooming himself.

"It's all clear, sir." One of the men popped his head out of the back curtain. The man smiled at you and stuck out his hand. "Do we have a deal?" He asked and you regretted the decision as you felt your hand reach itself out in front of you. "Deal." You sighed and you lead him back to the workroom.

He made himself comfortable as he draped his jacket across the waiting chair and unbuttoned the bottom of his shirt. He lifted his business shirt until a blank tattoo was shown on the front section of his ribs.

You got yourself ready off of what the paper described. Black and red shading with a black streak thrown across the dragon's eyes. 1-2-7 was bent across the dragon's stomach as 5 stars surrounded the head of the dragon mimicking a crown.

"Lucifer. Out." You called and the cat meow'd before walking out of the curtain. "Want to listen to music while I work?" You asked and he shook his head 'no' as he preoccupied himself on his phone.

You worked quickly and efficiently as he didn't dare look at your work.

2 hours went by and you were done. "Finished." You said standing up and disposing of the used needles. He stood up and looked into the body-length mirror on the other side of the room. "Woah." Was all you heard.

"This is good work." He said and you awkwardly smiled while coming closer to him with saniderm and healing gel. "Take off the saniderm underwater, so I suggest a shower and apply the gel gently. Change the saniderm at the same time tomorrow then after that you can wait up to 6 days after to change." You explained as you rubbed the gel on the tattoo and stuck a big square of saniderm on his torso.

"Why, thank you,-" "y/n." You cut him off and you could see him smile as you turned away.

"Nice name." He smiled, "Thanks...I guess." You shrugged. "Well, some other members will be in for some days to come. Money has already been left under your counter." He redressed as you cleaned up your station.

"I hope to see you soon, y/n." He smiled and walked off in an eerie aura. You heard your shop door open and close.

You rested your hands on your counter and let a huge sigh escape your chest. Meow.

You looked over to see Lucifer peeking his head in.

"I know. He was really weird."

(back tf up?? in the middle of a pandemic??)

~~~~~

Jungwoo

"Stop running away from me you tree!" You leaped from the couch and onto your boyfriend's back. "No! You'll never catch me!" He tried to shake you off of him, yet, you latched onto him as tight as you could.

"Damn your koala grip." He tried to swing his body around and throw you to the ground. Your hands went to cover his eyes as you began to panic. "Quit moving so fast!" You pleaded and he stopped abruptly. You scrambled off of his back and just sat with your legs outstretched on the floor.

You looked up at him with a look that could kill. "Just let me have fun." You pushed yourself off the floor and pointed a finger in his face. "You can. Just not on me." He moved your hand away from his face.

You groaned and sat on the couch in a huff. "You're no fun, Woo." You muttered and he couldn't help but smile at your pouty nature.

"Sure. Whatever you say, cutie." He said excusing himself down the hall. You heard the door to the bedroom close and you were left alone. You were going to color those damn tattoos even if it killed you. You turned on the TV and watched some shows. 40 minutes had passed and you knew that Jungwoo had to be asleep.

You snuck to the closet by the kitchen and threw the door open to find the bucket of markers. You grabbed your favorite out of the selection and were off down the hall.

The door was silent as you swung it open quickly. Jungwoo laid passed out on top of the sheets. His arms were folded underneath his head as you watched his chest rise and fall slowly...in a serene manner...but it was too calm. Chaos and fun were needed.

Tip-toeing was your best option as you swiftly made yourself over. You watched his eyes roam the inside of his eyelids as you realized he was completely knocked out.

You crawled on your space of the bed and uncapped the marker with a slight struggle. The pop made Jungwoo's eyelids squeeze and release quickly.

Your heart was filled with a mischievous attitude as you softly traced along the stars that were placed on his inner bicep. Pinks and oranges were plopped onto his skin as he laid unconscious.

A couple of cartoon characters and messages later you were bored. "Guess you are right. I really do have the mind of a goldfish." You mused quietly as you closed the marker and shoved them off the bed.

You laid across Jungwoo's torso and rolled onto him so he could wake-up. "It's like watching a toddler, I swear." He groaned as he grabbed you and didn't let go.

"I could've sworn that coloring would've kept you busy for at least an hour." He sighed and you just looked at him as if he had grown 5 heads. "I'm not stupid, y/n. Don't look at me like that." Jungwoo laughed and pinched your cheek.

He held onto your waist with one arm as he examined what you had drawn on the other. "Awe they're so cute." He mused and you looked at your work once more.

"Can I get a tattoo?" You asked and he only looked at you. "Do what you feel is right, but please...please think it through." He sighed and held onto you with both hands.

"Deal."

(ooo...fluffy looking jungwoo)

[myrandomfandomramblings]

Making memories - a Chenford fanfic

For Chenfordficweek2021 - as described by @therookiebook

Instead of a fic a day for chenford fic week I decided to just write one incorporating as many prompts as possible. This is because when I read them a few just connected in my head and then I had way to much fun seeing how many I could kinda incorporate. Some of the quotes aren’t word for word but the lines are inspired by the original prompt.

*Note: my beach fic was also inspired by this prompt list but I got antsy and posted it early so if you haven’t read it, you can check it out.

Main prompt: Road Trip

Other prompts:

July 11th- 

"Is that you...singing? Since when can you sing?" 

"I wish we could stay like this forever." 

Fight 

"You're comfier than a pillow." 

July 12th- 

With Child(ren)- theirs or not

"I fucked up."

"Where have you been?" 

July 13th- 

"You're crushing me." "I can't breathe with you on me." 

"Stay here." 

"What do you want?" 

July 14th- 

"I'm calling the police." "We are the police." 

"Don't move." 

"That a new dress?" 

Sweet tooth

July 15th- 

Locked out (Car/house/station) 

"Stop hogging all the blankets." 

"Why are you bleeding?" 

"Make me." 

July 16th- 

Shopping together or for the other 

Getting lost

"Is that my shirt?" 

Under the stars

July 17th- 

Competition 

Tears 

"Why are you so late?" 

When Lucy arrives in role call and hears she’s partnered with Tim for the day, she’s excited. When she hears they are to wear civvies and take Tim’s truck to surveil a suspect, she’s confused. And when said suspect drives further and further out of LA and they are instructed to keep on his tail, she’s annoyed. If she didn’t know better she’d think some writer designed the assignment purely because it was convenient for their story. Nevertheless, this is her life: crashing at a random hotel nearly nine hours from LA, after finally being relieved of surveillance detail, by the local sheriffs department, at 2:30am. The plus side is she’s being paid overtime, not only for the late night but also for the commute back to the city tomorrow. The down side is despite being exhausted she twists and turns all night unable to get comfortable in the strange environment. So when Tim knocks on the adjoining door between their rooms at 10am she’s already been up for a few hours. She has written a journal entry in her notes, preordered drinks for them to pick up at Starbucks and spent more time than she’d like to admit on google maps and various travel sites researching their trip home. She has also found time to plunder the continental breakfast and is currently demolishing a strawberry danish and a cinnamon bun. This earns criticism from Tim, whose plate carries sausage, eggs and an orange.

By 11am they’re on the open road again, coffees in the console between them. The small talk they had been making since they left the hotel had slowly died out so now they sit in comfortable silence. That is until Lucy reaches over to turn on the radio. 

“You know how I feel about car radios Chen,” Tim warns in his best TO voice. 

“Even off shift?” Lucy scoffs, and continues to press the on button and turn the volume dial up. Nevertheless, nothing happens.

“Looks like it doesn’t work anyway,” Tim states as he continues to hold the volume down button on the steering wheel, unbeknownst to Lucy.

“Fine then I’ll be the radio.” “You like Lady Marmalade, right?” She’s referencing Tim’s LA CLEAR security answer but she doesn’t wait for his reaction or reply before beginning to belt out the opening lyrics.

As she sings his initially surprised expression, morphs to shock and then awe. 

“Since when can you sing?” he asks when she finishes.

She just shrugs, looking down at her hands as they begin to fiddle in her lap.  

“Now I wish the radio really was broken,” Tim states as he turns it on and music starts playing.

Lucy shoots him a quick death glare before turning her attention back out the window.

---

By noon Lucy’s singing quietly along to the music (causing Tim to reevaluate his opinion on car radios) when she suddenly sneezes then freezes as her eyes go wide.

“Ah, can you stop at the next place with a bathroom?” she asks bashfully.

“We haven’t even been driving that long can you hold it?”

“Find me a bathroom or your truck will be covered in blood,” Lucy says, her tone conveying urgency.

“What? Why are you bleeding?” Tim asks, confused.

“If you don’t know why I, a woman, would be bleeding and thus need a bathroom then the public school system failed you.”

 “Oh, ah, right, sorry,” Tim stutters, “I think there’s a small town at the next exit.”

“Thank-you,” Lucy replies clearly relieved.

“Do we need to find a drug store or do you have what you need?’

“Ya, if you could find a drug store.” She’s fiddling again, unable to shake the feeling of embarrassment even though she knows, rationally, she has nothing to be embarrassed about.

Several minutes later Tim’s pulling into the drug store parking lot and Lucy’s unbuckling her seat belt to run in. But as soon as she stands up Tim’s voice stops her.

“Wait Luce.” There’s a tenderness to his voice especially when he uses the new nickname that stops her more than the instruction itself. “I think we’re too late.” 

Lucy looks down at the seat she just vacated to see its center now decorated with a dark red stain. A matching stain is present on the butt of the long yellow dress she’s wearing. 

“Of course,” she spits as she tries to fight back tears that are already running down her cheeks.

“That a new dress?” Tim questions awkwardly, caught off guard by the sudden display of emotion.

Lucy lets out a choked laugh as Tim flounders to find something helpful to say.

“I ruined your truck, I ruined my dress and now I have to walk around the drug store with a giant stain on my ass,” Lucy sniffs.

“Hey Lucy, everything’s going to be okay.” He reaches across the console to put a hand on her shoulder. “Stay here. I’ll go in and get what you need.”

She stares at him surprised and unsure. The idea of him buying her tampons and pads and, she realizes, new underwear seems uncomfortably intimate.

“So, ah, what do you want?”  

Because she has no desire to walk around the store with a giant blood stain on her butt she gives him her order, eyes down, face turning redder by the second.

He just nods and returns a few minutes later with three grocery bags and immediately hands them to her.

Inside she finds much more than she requested. The first bag contains two chocolate bars, two bags of candy, and two bottles of water. The second holds 6 different packages of assorted pads and tampons.

“How much blood do you think someone loses on their period,” Lucy teases.

Tim gives a small shrug. “I didn’t know which kind you wanted.” 

Inside the third bag Lucy finds a bottle of Advil, a package of wet-wipes, a spray bottle of stain remover, a new package of underwear (simple white cotton), a pair of black tights and a box of black garbage bags. 

“What are these for?” she asks holding up the garbage bags.

“They didn’t have any shirts so I thought we could make some head and arm holes and-“ he stops talking when he sees Lucy’s unimpressed expression. “I know it’s not ideal.” 

“Good thing I already have that figured out,” she says holding up a plaid button up. 

“Is that my shirt?” He had taken it off as soon as he got in the car, since like usual he had a henley underneath, and thrown it into the back. Lucy must of retrieved it while he was in the store. 

“Please,” she says fixing him with those puppy dog eyes. “I promise I won’t get blood on it. Well, I’ll do my best. Please don’t make me wear a garbage bag.” 

He laughs. “I forgot I had that. I guess I didn’t need these.” He takes the garbage bags from her and is about to throw them in the back when Lucy speaks up.

“Actually I’ll take one,” she says ripping the cardboard and freeing a single bag. She proceeds to rip a hole in the top of the garbage bag and pulls it over her legs like a skirt. Then she puts Tim’s plaid shirt on overtop. Tim is watching her with raised eyebrows.

“What? It’s just temporary. I promised I wouldn’t get blood on your shirt.” She puts everything she needs in her bag and goes into the bathroom to clean herself up. When she returns Tim is just finishing cleaning the blood off the passenger seat. 

“I would have done that.”

 “It was no trouble.” “Here spray some of this on your dress before the stain sets,” Tim offers as he hands her the stain remover.

Lucy does then drapes her dress over the backseat.

“Ready to go,” Tim asks.

 Lucy nods and by 1pm they’re back on the road.

 ---

By 2pm they’re both hungry and decide to stop for lunch. The place they choose is a fast food joint connected to a gas station. It’s busy. Probably because it’s the only place to eat for miles around. While they wait in line to order, Lucy goes to use the bathroom, only to find another line just as long. She decides to try the gas station bathroom instead, telling Tim that she’ll be right back but if he gets to the front first he knows her order. He goes to argue but she’s already gone, which is probably a good thing since he has no rebuttal, considering it’s the truth. 

A few minutes later Tim has their food: a veggie burger with extra pickles and fries for her and a burger and fries for him, but she still isn’t back. He wanders over to the gas station to find her standing in line at the register. 

“Put the candy back Chen.”

“Make me,” she says shaking the bags as she holds them by her shoulders.

Tim reaches for them but Lucy moves to evade his grasp. “Too slow,” she teases.

“You’ve already had two pastries, one bag of candy, a chocolate bar and a frappa-cappa-crapacciuno or whatever.”

“It was a chai tea latte and you know it.”  

“It was more sugar than anything and we still have more candy in the car. You’re going to give yourself diabetes.” 

She shrugs. “It’s not a road trip without excessive amounts of junk food.” 

“It’s not a road trip. It’s a commute home.” 

“It’s whatever we make it,” she says as she taps her card to pay for the candy. 

They find a state park a few minutes up the road and unpack their lunch at one of the picnic tables. They talk as they eat, familiar banter flying across the table. As they near the end of their food Lucy is animatedly telling a story about a recent arrest. She has a french fry in one hand and as she gestures, a little too aggressively, a glob of ketchup flies off the end of the fry and right into Tim’s face. 

She sinks down a little in her seat and covers her mouth to try to suppress a laugh.

“Did you just throw ketchup at me Chen?” he glares as he slowly removes the offending condiment.

“Not on purpose,” she giggles.

“If you start a fight you better be prepared to finish it,” he says as he rips open a package of mustard and squirts it at her.

Although it has poor projectile power a small amount lands in Lucy’s hair. She looks back at him mouth wide. “That was on purpose. That’s assault. I’m calling the police.”

“We are the police,” Tim deadpans as he rips the top off another mustard package.

“You wouldn’t” Lucy warns as she opens a mayo.

Then words are abandoned as condiments fly. They go through 5 ketchup, 3 mustard, 2 mayo, 1 bbq sauce, 1 ranch dressing, 1 aioli and 1 pepper packet before they both surrender. In fact the only packets left untouched are the hot sauce and salt. Both their faces are covered in assorted condiments. Most that had been scooped off the picnic table and smeared directly onto their target when it became clear the packets could barely project their contents a foot. The only one that was truly an effective weapon was the pepper which successfully gave Tim a sneezing fit. 

As they sit back down to finish the last bit of their lunch Lucy picks up a fry and runs it along Tim’s cheek then throws it in her mouth. 

“Not bad,” she says as Tim makes a face of disgust.

When the last fries are gone they throw out their garbage, wipe down the picnic table, then turn their attention to themselves.

“It’s a good thing I bought these wipes,” Tim says as he passes one to Lucy. 

She laughs as she takes it and begins to wash her face. 

“Did I get it all?” she asks when she thinks she’s done. “Because you didn’t,” she adds as she reaches up to wipe the side of his mouth.

He’s startled at first then his expression morphs into something she can’t quite read but something that makes her linger just a little longer than strictly necessary. Then she steps away and climbs into the drivers seat and by 3pm they’re back on their way.

---  

By 4pm Lucy’s in the middle of a seemingly endless monologue about the bachelor franchise when she looks over to realize that Tim is fast asleep. She would be insulted but instead she sees it as an opportunity. She starts to take every turn she can. Whenever she comes to an intersection she turns on to the smallest street. By the time Tim wakes up, about half an hour later (of course he would have is body trained to nap the ideal more than 20, less than 40 minutes), they are in the middle of nowhere. She waits until he’s fully awake then slams on the brakes.

“I’ve been shot. Where are we, Tim?” she demands in her best Tim Bradford voice. He looks out all the windows to see nothing but ranches then back at her, confusion clear on his face.

“Did you get us lost just so you could prove a point?” His tone an odd combination of annoyance and amusement.

“We’re not lost I’m taking the scenic route.” 

 “I’m pretty sure the scenic route is supposed to run along the ocean not through the desert in the middle of no where.” 

“We’re not in the middle of no where we are North of Martinus Corner at the intersection of Cross Rd and and Lockwood Jolon Rd,” she brags. 

“Great you know where we are. Do you know how to get us back onto the main road?”

“It’s not all about the destination, you know, It’s about the journey,” Lucy offers. “When’s the last time you did something just for the fun of it.”

“We go for a hike or a walk along the beach with Kojo every weekend.”

“I know I’m fun to be around,” she teases, “but that’s an errand, Tim, the dog needs exercise.” 

“I see your point but what are we supposed to do in the middle of ranch land? You want to go cow tipping?”

“We won’t be in ranch land for long,” Lucy replies, but half an hour and at least twenty turns later they’re still surrounded by fields and livestock.

“Will you admit you’re lost now?” Tim asks.

Lucy sighs, “Fine, can you please google map how to get to Route 1”

“We were on 5.”

“5’s the freeway. 1’s the scenic route,” Lucy explains. “the one that runs along the ocean.”

Before Tim can bring up the app they’re emerging into a small city centre. As Lucy continues down the main street she excitedly points ahead. 

“Let’s go bowling,” she says indicating the bowling alley sign.

“I thought you wanted to go to the ocean.”

“We can still take the scenic route home, after we go bowling.”

Tim sighs.

“Come on let’s have some fun, make some memories,” Lucy encourages.

“You’re not going to take no for an answer.”

Lucy shakes her head and happily pulls into the bowling alley parking lot.

Several minutes later they have their bowling shoes on and their names entered in the computer on lane 4. Tim goes first and immediately gets a strike.

“You want to put money on this game Chen?” he asks cockily.

“Lucky shot,” Lucy replies. “I’m not betting money but if you win I’ll let you pick the route home but if I win you can’t complain when we take the scenic route.

“Deal,” he says shaking her hand.

Lucy goes next and gets two gutter balls in a row. “Why didn’t we get the bumpers?”

“The bumpers are for kids.”

On her third throw she throws the bowl with two-hands after swinging it between her legs.

“Speaking of for kids,” Tim teases.

“Don’t argue with results,” she counters as her ball connects with the pins.

They continue going back and forth, Tim using the classic one-handed bowling throw and Lucy trying a different technique each time. She tries sitting down and pushing it down the lane, pulling out the ball slide meant for toddlers, standing backwards and throwing the ball between her legs but eventually settles on the two-handed granny throw. 

By half-way through the game Tim’s score is double Lucy’s and he starts to get cocky. He throws with his eyes closed, on one-foot and after spinning in a circle 10 times. 

3 quarters through the game the black lights come on and they laugh at each others teeth glowing in the dark. The disco lights and music follow. Then Lucy who had been giggling and joking around all game suddenly becomes serious. 

“I have two more turns and I really want a strike,” she states. She has a couple spares on the board but strikes remain elusive. Tim on the other hand has three.

“Can I show you? he questions handing her a ball.

He initially tries to coach her through the throw but she isn’t catching on so he steps behind her, puts his hand over hers and leans into her back as he guides her through the motion. The ball knocks over all but one pin but Lucy almost misses it because she’s looking up at Tim. He lets go and steps back.

“You think you can do that on your own next turn?” he asks shaking the huskiness from his voice.

She nods. Tim bowls, then it’s the moment of truth as Lucy throws her ball imaging Tim’s arm along hers, guiding it. The bowl rolls straight down the alley where it connects with the pins and knocks them all down. STRIKE flashes on the computer screen as Lucy jumps for joy then right into Tim for a celebratory hug. He’s initially surprised but is able to catch her and himself before they fall over. He spins them around as she laughs and he’s suddenly really glad Lucy made him stop.

With that the game is over. Tim’s still ahead but the margin had narrowed. They return their bowling shoes and head out to the truck.

“Fine you win this time, we can go back to the interstate but I want a rematch. I’m thinking mini-golf or the arcade,” Lucy says as she pulls out of the parking lot. 

“Nah, go to the 1,” Tim says as he starts to read the directions off his phone.

Lucy looks at him quizzically but doesn’t push her luck. By 6pm they’re driving along the ocean.

---

By 7pm, although it’s not that late, it’s already dark. That combined with her lack of sleep the night before is making Lucy sleepy. When she yawns for the third time in less than 20 minutes Tim suggests they switch drivers. Lucy happily obliges pulling into the next rest stop. During the day it would have a beautiful view of the ocean but now all one can see is darkness. The only evidence of the ocean’s presence being the rhythmic, crashing of waves against the base of the cliff below.

They pull into the abandoned lot; Lucy takes her time backing into a spot, mostly just to annoy Tim and they both get out, reflexively closing their doors behind them. As they pass each other Tim holds his hand out for the keys. 

“I just left them in the ignition,” Lucy explains. Tim looks over to the truck then back to her a look of defeat on his face.

“Your doors lock automatically, don’t they?” Lucy asks rhetorically, “I fucked up.” 

They try the doors just in case but sure enough they’re locked. 

“Well it could be worse,” Tim offers much to Lucy’s surprise, “at least it’s not running.” “I’ll call Angela and see if I can convince her to grab the extra set of keys from my house and come meet us but its going to be a couple hours.” 

Lucy nods. “Thank-you and I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Tim shrugs, “we’re making memories remember.” Then without another word we walks away from her as he hits a button on his phone and puts it to his ear. The conversation doesn’t last long. Angela obliges but insists that Tim now owes her one. He thinks she still owes him a couple from everything he did as her man of honour but decides now isn’t the time to bring that up. When he hangs up he finds Lucy has lowered the tailgate of his truck, where she now sits. She’s shivering, arms wrapped around herself, but she’s smiling as she looks up at the sky. 

“You can see the stars here,” she explains hearing him approach, “away from the lights and smog of the city.” 

Tim climbs up into the bed of his truck and removes a stack of old moving blankets from the storage box he keeps in the back. 

“Angela’s on her way but in the meantime we should stay warm.” He wraps one around Lucy’s shoulders. Then lays the rest on the floor of the truck bed. 

“Good thing I left these in after helping Tamara move last weekend.” He shimmies his way in-between two layers then taps the spot beside him, inviting Lucy to join. She climbs in beside him eager for more warmth. With the sun gone the temperature had dropped fast. 

Lucy pulls up an app on her phone and hands it to Tim so he can identify constellations for them while her hands and arms stay hidden under the blankets. Then they lay down and look-up at the stars. Tim uses the app to find constellations, points them out to Lucy, then reads the story about them provided by the app. Meanwhile Lucy snuggles deeper and deeper into the blankets. Tim stops in the middle of the story he’s reading about the the swan constellation as the blankets are pulled off his torso. 

"Stop hogging all the blankets,” he complains pulling them back.

“Sorry, I’m freezing,” she confesses. 

He pauses for a second clearly debating something internally before opening his arm out to the side. “Then come closer,” he finally says. 

She hesitates for a second before slowly moving to snuggle against his side. The possibility of warmth far outweighing any awkwardness she’s feeling. She rests her head on his chest. She can feel his heart racing to match her own and can’t help but smile to herself.

“Better?” he asks once she’s finished squirming around trying to maximize her view of the stars and the amount of body heat she’s receiving from him.

”You're comfier than a pillow,” she confirms, nodding. 

Tim doesn’t respond just wraps his arm around her shoulders. He continues to point out constellations and read the stories in Lucy’s app. 

“None of the constellations actually look like their name sakes,” Lucy says after a while.   

“You have to use your imagination.” 

“I could use my imagination to name my own constellations.” 

He shrugs. “Go for it.” 

She finds a cluster of stars that vaguely resembles a duck. She points it out to Tim then makes up a story about a duck that joined the LAPD and saved the city from a gang of geese. When she’s finished she turns to Tim,. “Your turn.”

He gives her his best ‘not happening’ look but he’s met with those pleading brown eyes that hold more power over him than he’ll ever admit and caves almost instantly.

He points out an X made of stars. “That is where the space pirates buried their treasure.” Lucy looks up at him expectantly. “The end,” he finishes.

“That’s your whole story? One sentence.”

“I’m not as creative as you.”

“Then tell a real story,” she says, “here I’ll go first.”

She points to a jumble of stars. “That is Caligula’s toy chest,” she says then proceeds to describe in great detail all the filthy, horrid things she had seen the day he taught her the DEAR method.

“Why would you tell me that?” he asks when she is done.

“Now you share my pain.”

Tim laughs and points at four stars arranged in a rectangle. “That is the phone that was used too much at work.” He spends his entire story essentially mocking her for always being on her phone. Lucy would be annoyed or insulted but the amount of detail he remembers about the completely benign things she has done is kind of sweet and a little exhilarating.

She next finds a ’surf board’ and tells the story of a weekend getaway with some collage friends that ended with a black eye, a broken board and a lot of great memories. 

Tim follows suit finding a ‘football’ and telling the story of a particularly memorable championship game during his high school career. He’s half-way through his story when he interrupts himself. “You're crushing me,” he tells Lucy who is draped over his torso. “What are you even doing?” I can't breathe with you on me."

“I’m tucking in the blanket so our heat doesn’t escape,” she says as she pushes the edge of the blanket under Tim’s side along the length of his body. When she’s done she rolls off of him, cuddles back into his side then tucks the opposite blanket edge under herself. 

When Tim finishes his story they continue to go back and forth, learning more and more about each other each turn. Lucy tells stories from the time she spent travelling and working odd jobs, from her time as a psych major and her time in the academy. Tim talks about his family, his time in the army, and his early years on the force and with Isabel. 

He tells her about a colleague who despite being a great cop made the mistake of using his radio near an explosive and paid for it with his life. He is the reason Tim baby powder bombs every Rookie: so no other good officers will be lost because a critical piece of information was taught so dryly that it couldn’t possibly be recalled under pressure. 

She tells him about her ring as she twirls it around her finger. About how she found it in her grandma’s dress-up chest when she was six and it immediately became her favourite item. How every time she played dress-up the ring was part of the costume, whether she was a princess or a ninja, a cat or a witch, a clown or a police officer. How unlike her parents, who always thought she’d follow their career paths, her grandma always told her she could be anything she wanted. How when her grandma passed away she had found the ring again as she helped her parents pack up her things. How she had started wearing it to feel closer to her. How as she looked at the ring day after day she heard her grandma’s voice in her head:  “You can do anything you put your mind too,”  “the sky’s the limit,” “do what makes you happy.” How that made her realize she was not where she wanted to be and led to her decision to quit her Master’s program.  How her parents had chalked it up to grief and tried to use psychoanalysis to convince her to return. How that had pissed Lucy off and led to her applying to the LAPD. How she had continued to wear the ring as a reminder and motivator during her training. How much it had meant to her to have it returned. How now it not only symbolizes her grandma’s belief in her, but also Tim’s and her own. How it continues to give her strength.

As Lucy talks Tim rubs circles on her back as if connecting the stars that constitute Lucy’s ‘ring’ constellation. 

Just as she finishes she excitedly points up. “Look a shooting star!”

“Make a wish,” Tim advises.

“I wish we could stay like this forever.” She surprises herself by how quick and confident that comes out. She hadn’t even thought about it, but it is true. In this moment everything is perfect. She is no longer cold. She is warm and happy in her little burrito with Tim: wearing his shirt, listening to the ocean, surrounded by stars. 

Lucy half hears Tim name a constellation “the best boot I ever trained” and start to tell a Coles notes version of their story but she’s already falling asleep.

She wakes up some time later to Tim shifting beside her. 

“Don’t move,” she groans still half-asleep.“

“Ange is here Luce. It’s time to go home.” 

“Am home,” she mumbles before falling back asleep.

Tim manages to free himself from Lucy and the blankets. He shuffles out of the back of the truck and walks around it to meet Angela who is just getting out of her car.

“Where have you been,” Tim asks. 

“Driving.” 

“I mean, what took you so long?” 

“I thought you might be enjoying your alone time with Lucy more than you’d admit, so I didn’t rush.” 

He wanted to argue but he couldn’t. “Thank-you for coming.”

She shrugs. “Honestly, when your baby refuses to sleep anywhere but a moving car a 4 hour drive is not as inconvenient as it sounds.”

As if to prove her point the infant starts wailing from inside the vehicle.

Before Angela can move Tim’s opening her car door and removing his god child from the car seat. He holds the baby to his chest and starts rocking him. As the baby continues to scream and Tim continues to rock, sway and bounce, Lucy emerges from behind Tim’s truck seemingly woken by the crying.

“There’s my favourite little guy,” she coos as she approaches. “You’ve gotten so big. Next time I see you you’ll be taller than your Uncle Tim,” she continues as she rubs the baby’s back. Despite all the attention the baby continues to fuss.

“He’s hungry,” Angela explains. “Give him this,” she continues handing him a full bottle, “I pumped on the way here.”

“You pumped while driving?”

“It’s called multitasking.”

Tim takes the bottle and offers it to the baby who immediately begins suckling. While the baby drinks Lucy goes back to Tim’s truck and grabs some blankets. She gives one to Angela, drapes another over Tim and the little boy and wraps herself in the last. 

Over the next half an hour Tim and Lucy work together to feed, burp, and change the baby before putting him back in his carseat, all while his mother watches with a very amused expression. When he’s buckled in they say their goodbyes, thank Angela again, then head back to Tim’s truck, which is now unlocked.

By 10pm they are back on the road. They spend the rest of the drive cooing over baby Evers and talking about their own theoretical future kids. While conveniently avoiding any mention of theoretical future spouses or co-parents.

By midnight Lucy is just getting home. As she walks through the door she sees Jackson on the couch watching TV. 

“Why are you so late?” he asks turning towards her.

“Long story.” 

“Is that Tim’s shirt?” 

“Longer story.” 

“Aha,” Jackson says giving her a knowing look.

She just rolls her eyes and goes to get ready for bed. She falls asleep almost immediately and dreams of sweets and stars, babies and bowling and a life with Tim.