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dianawinchester03 · 6 months

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Season 1, Episode 7 - Hook Man

Series Masterlist

Third Person POV

"Enjoying your coffee flavored sugar that you try and convince yourself is coffee, princess?" Dean teases Y/N who's innocently enjoying her favorite coffee order. She narrows her eyes at him and he snorts at her reaction. "With a side of sass. Just how I like it, charming" She retorts sarcastically back, winking at him. Making his heart leap as per usual.

Y/N and Dean are sitting at a table in a outdoor cafe while Sam is at a pay phone trying to call the FBI while impersonating as a agent to get any information on John and F/N. "Alright. Thank you for your time" Sam says politely before hanging up and walking back over to their table.

"Your half-caf double vanilla latte is getting cold over here, Frances" Dean calls out to his brother teasingly laughing a bit. "Bite me" Sam retorts back and Y/N chuckles. "So, anything?" Y/N asks hopefully and Sam shakes his head sighing, causing Y/N's face to drop. "I had them check the FBIs missing persons data bank. No John Does matching Dad's or Mr. L/N's descriptions. I even ran their plates for traffic violations" Sam explains frustrated.

"Guys, I'm telling you. I don't think our dads want to be found" Dean says and they shake their heads in disappointment. "Check this out" He says and shows them his laptop. Y/N adjusts herself in her seat to get a better look. "It's a news item out of Plains Courier, Ankeny, Iowa. It's only about 100 miles from here" Deans says. On the news article is the title 'Mysterious Death of a Fraternity Brother'.

"The mutilated body was found near the victims car parked on Nine Mile Road" Sam reads off the article. "Keep reading" Dean says while taking a sip of his water and Y/N starts. "Authorities are unable to provide a realistic description of the killer. The sole eyewitness, whose name has been withheld, is quoted as saying 'the attacker was invisible' " Y/N finishes reading.

"Could be something interesting" Dean says to them. "Or could be nothing at all" Sam says. "One freaked out witness who didn't see anything does mean it's the Invisible Man" Y/N adds. "But what if it is? Our dads would check it out" Dean tries to reason.

"Really? You're gonna play that card" Y/N raises her eyebrow and Dean shrugs with a smug look on his face.

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The trio pull up to the fraternity house if it's fallen brother. "One more time, why are we here?" Sam asks as they jump out of Baby and walk into the yard. "Victim lived here" Dean tells him. Y/N notices some of the frat boys wolf whistle at her, she smiles coyly and flashes them a wink before turning back to the boys.

Dean scoffs, seeing the thirsty looks college brats are throwing at Y/N. They approach a couple of guys who have their hood up on their car fixing the engine. "Nice wheels" Dean tells the young man causally and he looks at the two hunters weirdly. "We're your fraternity brothers. From Ohio" Dean thinks of a lie on the spot.

The guy looks over at Y/N, his eyes trailing over her body making Dean narrow his eyes at him. "And you, gorgeous?" He asks smirking. She inwardly rolls her eyes but keeps a pleasant smile on her face. "I'm student too. These are my friends from back home in Ohio. I'm staying at the sorority not too far from here. Told me they needed a place to crash so I let them know you might but taking in" She says sweetly.

The lie seems to work so the boys and Y/N are upstairs in the frat house, the boys entering the room where there supposed roommate would be sharing with them. When they enter they see a young man painting his whole body with purple paint. Dean knocks slightly, a little weirded out at seeing this.

"Who are you?" The purple man asks. "We're your new roommates" Dean says smiling slightly. "And you?" He turns to Y/N. "Just helping my friends get aquatinted" She says causally. "Then do me a favor, get my back. Big game today" He asks her, handing her the paint brush to paint his back.

She raises her eyebrow and points to Sam behind her with her thumb as Dean sits by the window. "He's the artist, the things he can do with a brush" She says, going to sit next to Dean while Sam lightly glares at her and looks little uncomfortable. He hesitantly takes the brush and Dean and Y/N sit by the window, trying to hide their snickering.

"So..." Dean starts, picking up a magazine and seeing a name on it. "..Murph...is it true?" He asks, flipping open the magazine and putting one of his leg on top of the other. "What?" Murph asks. "We heard one of the guys around here got killed last week" Y/N asks as if she's gossiping.

"Yeah" Murph says sadly. "What happened?" Sam asks while painting Murph's back. "They're saying some psycho with a knife. Maybe a drifter passing through. Rich was a good guy" Murph explains. "Rich was with somebody?" Sam asks as Dean flips through the magazine. "Not just somebody....Lori Sorenson" Murph says proudly.

"Who's Lori Sorenson?" Dean asks. "You missed a spot" He points to Murphs back that Sam was painting where he missed a spot. "Yeah. Just down there in the back" Y/N adds, drawing notice to the empty spot near Murphs ass. Sam clenches his jaw, glaring at his brother and best friend who look at him innocently, holding back their laughs.

"Loris a freshman. She's a local. Super hot" Murph says exaggerated. "And get this, she's a reverends daughter" He adds suggestively. Dean leans forward to ask, "You wouldn't happen to know which church, would you?"

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Y/N, Dean and Sam enter the church during the wake of the recently deceased, slamming the door behind them accidentally a little too hard upon entering, causing the congregation to look at them confused before the reverend goes back to giving his speech.

"....as a community and as a family. The loss of a young person is particularly tragic" The reverend states, as the trio take a seat in the room, his daughter, Lori, looking at Sam a little intently. They exchange looks as the reverend speaks. Sam shoots her a small sympathetic smile before Lori turns back to listen to his speech.

"A life unloved is the saddest of passings. So please, let us pray. For peace, for guidance and for the power to protect our children" He concludes to a moment of silence and everyone bows their head except Dean. Y/N peeks one eye open notices Dean didn't put his head down, nudging him a bit to follow along. He complies, bowing his head.

After the service, whilst everyone is conversing between themselves outside, the three approach her. "Are you Lori?" Sam asks her. "Yeah" She confirms, turning to them. "My name is Sam. This is my brother Dean and my best friend Y/N. We just transferred to the university" He introduces himself and them as Dean and Y/N wave saying "Hi".

"I saw you inside" Lori says nodding and smiling. "We don't wanna bother you. We just heard about what happened" Sam says sympathetically and Loris smile drops a bit. "We wanted to say how sorry we were" Y/N adds, giving her a small smile and Dean nods. "I kinda know what you're going through. I-I saw someone get hurt once. It's something you don't forget" Sam explains. Y/N and Dean look at him slightly shocked.

Before she could respond, the reverend approaches them. "Dad, this is Sam, Dean and Y/N. They're new students" She introduces them to her father. "It's a pleasure to meet you sir" Y/N says formally, putting her hand out to shake the reverends. He takes her hand, smiling "I must say, that was an inspiring sermon" She compliments the service.

"Thank you very much" The reverend says gratefully as they break the handshake. "It's so nice to find young people who are open to the Lords message" The reverend adds and Y/N smiles awkwardly at this. "Listen, uh, we're new in town, actually and uh...we're looking for a church group" Dean begins to explain, walking out of view with the reverend to chat as Y/N and Sam stay back with Lori.

"Tell me Lori. What are the police saying?" Sam asks her nicely as the three of them walk a bit. "Well, they don't have a lot to go on. I think they blame me for that" She says honestly. "What do you mean?" Y/N asks in the same tone as Sam. "My story. I was so scared. I guess I was seeing things" She says a bit pained.

"That doesn't mean it wasn't real" Sam assures her and Lori gives him a small grateful smile.

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"So you guys believe her?" Dean asks Sam and Y/N as they walk through the library. "I do" Sam and Y/N say in unison. "Yeah, I think she's hot too" Dean says and Y/N rolls her eyes, scoffing lightly, which doesn't go unnoticed by Sam.

"No, man. There's something in her eyes" Sam says. "And get to this, she heard scratching on the roof. Found the bloody body suspended upside down over the car" Y/N explains as they walk into an aisle of shelves in the library. "Body suspended. That sounds like—"

"Yeah. We know. The Hook Man Legend" Sam finishes Deans thought. "It's one of the most famous urban legends ever. You guys don't think we're dealing with The Hook Man" Dean says doubtfully. "Every urban legend has a source. A place where it all began" Y/N says.

"Yeah. But what about the phantom scratches and the tire punctures and the invisible killer" Dean says. "Maybe the Hook Man isn't a man at all. What if it's some kind of spirit?" Sam suggests.

A little later they all seat themselves at a table in the library and the librarian drops a couple of dusty boxes of files they asked for on the desk. "Here you go. Arrest records going back to 1851" The librarian dusts her hand. Y/N blows some of the dust off the box "Thanks" She says smiling looking back as the librarian walks off.

Sam dusts the top of the boxes off, "so this is how you spent four good years of your life huh?" Dean says sarcastically, cringing as he also blows some of the dust off the box and Y/N opens it. "Welcome to higher education" Sam retorts cheekily and Dean lightly glares at his brother.

Couple hours in, "Hey, check this out" Y/N says, drawing attention to the boys. They peer over her shoulder to look at the report. "1862, a preacher named Jacob Cames was arrested for murder. Looks like he was so angry over the red light district in town that one night he killed 13 prostitutes" She explains continuing.

"Uh, right here. Some of the deceased were found in their beds, sheets soaked with bloody others suspended upside down from trees as a warning against sins of the flesh" She further explains as Dean pulls out an old piece of paper with the autopsy reports.

"Get this. The murder weapon? Looks like the preacher lost his hand in an accident Z had it replaced with a silver hook" He says, showing them the old drawing of a hook. "Look where all this happened" Sam says pointing to the location written in the report.

"Nine-Mile Road" Dean says. "Same place where the frat boy was killed" Sam says and Dean looks over at Y/N impressed. "Nice job, Dr. Venkman. Let's check it out" He praises her, patting the small of her back.

As he walks off, she has a small blush on her face. Clearing her throat, Y/N and Sam follow behind Dean.

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The boys and Y/N pull up to Nine Mile Road and jump out of the Impala. They make way to the trunk of baby and Dean pulls out two shot guns, handing it to them.

"If it is a spirit, buckshot won't do much good" Sam says, cocking the hun outwards as Dean digs in the trunk. "Yeah. Rocksalt Einstein" Y/N says to Sam, also cocking her gun and he chuckles. "Salt being a spirit deterrent" Sam says.

"Yeah. It won't kill him but it'll slow him down" Dean says and he closes the trunk, throwing his duffel bag over his shoulder. "That's pretty good" Sam says impressed. "Who thought of this?" He asks.

"Mr. Winchester brought up salt grenades to my dad, then Dad came up with rock-salt shell casings" Y/N says shrugging. "I told you Sammy, you don't have to be a college graduate to be a genius" Dean says smugly as they walk. Y/N rolls her eyes jokingly and Sam chuckles.

They hear a few twigs snapping, holting in their tracks. Sam and Y/N aim their guns in the direction of the sound. "Over there, over there" Dean whispers to them and they point it towards where Dean was showing them.

Steps coming closer and closer to them. "Put the gun down now! Now!" A man in a police uniform yells, aiming his gun at them. The trio are startled by this, having been caught. "Put your hands behind your head!" He yells, ordering them. "Wait wait wait wait wait! Okay, okay!" Dean obliges.

Sam and Y/N drop their guns and Dean drops his bag. "Now get down on your knees. Come on, do it. On your knees!" The officer commands. The three hunters get on their knees, hands behind their heads. "Now get down on your bellies! Come on, do it!" The officer demands and Dean groans.

"They had the guns" He groans but they all do as told.

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The next morning the three hunters walk out of the sheriffs department. "Saved your asses. Talked the sheriff down to a fine. Dude, I'm Matlock" Dean exclaims boastfully. "But how?" Y/N asks confused. "Told em Sam was a dumbass pledge and we were hazing him. And you were my girlfriend who came cuz you were scared I'd get hurt" He says winking at Y/N who scoffs.

"Please. I'd leave your ass to get hurt" She says sassily, snorting and Sam says. "Yeah. Sure" ironically. Causing Y/N to nudge him annoyed and he looks down smiling. 'He sure loves to use that excuse..' Y/N thinks to herself. "What about the shotgun?" Sam asks.

"I said to you were hunting ghosts and that spirits were repelled by rock salt. You know? Typical Hell Week prank" Dean smirks. "And he believed you?" Sam asks surprised. "Well, you look like a dumb-ass pledge" Y/N retorts cheekily, shrugging and Sam huffs annoyed.

Dean laughs and Sam shoots Y/N his classic glare. "Bite me crack head" He huffs, holding back a laugh. "No thank you dipshit" She laughs as they walk towards the Impala. They hear the door to the sheriff department burst open.

Some officers run out, jumping into a couple squad cars in a hurry. They turn on the sirens and speed down the road. The three exchange looks before jumping into the Impala and following behind.

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They drive by where the cars stopped, the sorority where Lori Sorenson was staying. There, they look out the window to see Lori at the back of an ambulance looking distraught. Dean, however, drives past the scene and parks behind the sorority house.

They all jump out of the Impala, looking around to make sure no one sees them. Dean jumps up on the ledge, connecting to the house. Y/N follows behind as Sam does the same. They creep to the back of the garage to see some cops and cop cars in the alley.

"Why would the Hook Man come here? This is a long way from Nine Mile Road" Sam queries as they creep through the back. "Maybe he's not haunting the scene of his crime. Maybe it's about something else" Dean suggest and a few sorority girls come out the side of the house.

The three pull back a into a corner so they don't see them. Sam pulls himself into the ledge and Y/N gives him a boasts, pushing him up to the ledge. "Dude, sorority girls." Dean says checking them out. "Think we'll see a naked pillow fight?" He says perversely and Y/N taps him at the back of his head.

"Ow!" Dean exclaims, holding the now sore spot on his head. "Come on Peeping Tom. Gimme a boast" She grumbles and Dean helps her. When she gets up, she puts her hand out to help him up and he grabs on. Getting up on the ledge, they creep to the side of the house.

Sam opens the window to Lori's room and pushes his body in. Y/N follows behind with Dean getting in last. Y/N ends up falling ontop of Sam. "Crap sorry" She whispers. "It's okay" He whispers back. Sam gets up and Dean ends up falling ontop Y/N, causing her to groan in pain. "Oh, sorry" Dean apologizes a little too loud.

"Hey. Be quiet" Sam grumbles, shushing him. "Me be quiet? You be quiet" He retorts. "Fellas settle down" Y/N growls at both of them and their mouths snap shut. Dean closes the window behind them and Sam peers lightly at the door of the closet.

Outside is an officer scanning the crime scene, blood on the bed with police tape across it. When the officer steps out and goes downstairs. Sam opens the door and they quietly walk into the room. Written across the wall in blood with a symbol below it is 'Aren't you glad you didn't turn on the light?'

"Aren't you glad you didn't turn on the light? That's right out of the legend" Y/N points out, reading the quote on the wall out loud. "Yeah. That's classic Hook Man alright" Dean says, stunned. "And it's definitely a spirit" He adds, tapping his nose.

"Yeah. I've never smelled ozone this strong before" Sam agrees and Dean walks over to peek at the crowd out the window. "Hey, come here" Sam calls him over. "Does that look familiar to you?" Sam asks them, pointing to the symbol underneath the quote.

They head back outside, the three of them leaning against the front grill of Baby Y/N pulls the autopsy report from earlier with murder weapon, the hook, engraved on it is the same symbol on the wall.

"It's the same symbol. Seems like it is the spirit of Jacob Carnes" Y/N says, standing between the boys against the car. "Alright. Well let's find the dude's grave, salt and burn the bones and put him down" Dean suggests. "Hard chance there" Y/N says and Sam takes the report from Y/N and reads.

"After execution, Jacob Carnes was laid to rest in Old North cemetery...in an unmarked grave" Sam reads, flicking the paper in anger. "Super" Dean says sarcastically and they all get off of the car to head back in. "Okay, so we know it's Jacks Carnes but we still don't know where he'll manifest next or why" As Sam says this, Dean pulls a paper off of his windshield reading it.

"I'll take a wild guess why. I think your little friend Lori has something to do with this" Dean says, opening the drivers side door, Sam and Y/N pile in behind, confused.

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Later they all end up at a college party in hopes to find Lori. "Man, you've been holding out on me. This college thing is awesome" Dean says enthusiastically and Y/N chuckles. "This wasn't really my experience" Sam says plainly. "Oh, let me guess. Library, studying, straight A's" Y/N says and Sam nods.

"What a geek. Alright did you two do your homework?" Dean grumbles and Y/N laughs. "Yeah. It was bugging us, right? How is the Hook Man tied up with Lori?" Sam starts to explain. "So we think we came up with something" Y/N says, opening the paper and showing Dean.

"1932, Clergyman, Arrested for Murder....1967, Seminarian Held in Hippie Rampage.." Dean reads off of but Sam cuts him off. "There's a pattern here. In both cases, the suspect was a man of religion who openly preached against immorality and then found himself wanted for killings he claimed were the work of an invisible force. Killings carried out, get this, with a sharp instrument" Sam explains.

"What's the connection to Lori?" Dean asks them. "A man of religion...who openly preaches against immorality" Y/N says as if it's obvious and Dean nods. "Except maybe this time instead of saving the whole town he's trying to save his only daughter" Y/N finishes.

"Reverend Sorenson. You think he's summoning the spirit?" Dean adds asking. "Maybe" Sam says but something comes across Y/N's mind. "Or... you know how a poltergeist can haunt a person instead of a place?" Y/N suggests. "Yeah. The spirit latches on to the reverend repressed emotions and feeds off them...yeah..okay" Dean agrees.

"Without the reverend even knowing" Sam says. "Either way, you should keep an eye on Lori tonight" Dean tells Sam and he nods. "What about you two?" Sam asks them. Dean looks over at a hot young blonde chick with a sly smile on his face. "We're gonna see if we can find that unmarked grave" Y/N says smiling tightly.

Deans smile drops "But I-" He goes to contest but Y/N smacks his arm. "The case comes first" She says firmly and he groans disappointed. "Man you're no fun" He mumbles as they walk out of the building. "Do I need to show you how fun I can be?" She scoffs and his smile reappears. "You're on" He retorts and they laugh walking out.

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A little later they walk through the Old North Cemetery, flashing their lights at headstones. While walking through they hear some twigs snap and holt in their tracks. They begin walking a little deeper in and Y/N draws the headstone with the symbol from the murder weapon to Deans attention.

"Here we go" Dean says as they approach the grave and began digging. After some time of digging, Dean gets frustrated, "Thats it. Next time...I get to watch the cute girls house" Dean huffs as Y/N rolls her eyes. "Shut it and dig, Winchester" She orders and he groans but obliges.

Y/N hits something hard and knocks her shovel into the pine coffin, breaking the top half of it. "Hello preacher" Y/N says and they jump back above ground, over the hole. Dean gets up first and extends his hand to help Y/N out. "Such a gentleman. Guess chivalry ain't dead" She jokes and he laughs.

Y/N grabs the lighter fluid and salt and Dean strikes his matches. Y/N throws the salt all over the bones and drenches it with lighter fluid. Dean strikes the match, lighting it aflame "Goodbye preacher" He says before throwing it into the coffin. Allowing it catch into flames.

Y/N's POV

Yeah that's it. If I hear this guy talk about boning another girl one more time. I'm gonna blow my head off. I still don't understand why I'm getting all worked up over hearing Dean talk about other girls. Yeah I had a crush on him growing up but that was ages ago. I don't think it's possible I could still have feelings for him like that.

Regardless, it's freaking irritating. I need to figure this out. What I know for sure is, even if I do like him in that way. He can't possibly feel that way about me. Screw what the shapeshifter said, it's not possible for him to feel that way about me. For Christs sake, he calls me his little sister. Yeah he flirts but he flirts with everyone dammit.

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Dean and I rushed to the hospital after hearing Lori's dad was attacked, we see Sam down the hall and run towards him but some cops try to stop us. "Hold on there, kids" The cop says to us. "It's all right, we're with him" I say.

"Yeah. That's my brother. That's- Hey, brother" Dean says cheekily, smiling and waving at Sam. I follow waving at him. "Let them through" The sheriff tells the cops and they oblige. "Thank you officers" I say sweetly before me and Dean walk towards Sam who meets us in the middle.

"You okay?" Dean asks him. "Yeah" Sam assures us. "What the hell happened?" I ask. "Hook Man" He responds. "You saw him?" Dean asks. "Damn right. Why didn't you guys torch the bones?" Sam asks us annoyed. "What are you talking about? We did" I defend.

"You sure it's the spirit of Jacob Carnes?" Dean asks. "Sure as hell looked like him. And that's not all. I don't think it's latching onto the reverend" Sam adds. "Well, yeah. The guy wouldn't send the Hook Man after himself" Dean states and we look back to the room where the reverend is situated.

"I think it's latching onto Lori. Last night, she found out that her father is having an affair with a married woman" Sam explains. "So what?" Dean asks. "So she's upset about it. She's upset about the immorality of it. She told me she was raised to believe if you do something wrong, you get punished" Sam explains further.

"Okay, so she's conflicted" Dean says. "And the spirit of Preacher Carnes latching on to her repressed emotions and maybe he's doing the punishing" I suggest. "Right. Rich comes on too strong, Taylor tries to make her into a party girl...Dad has an affair" Sam puts the pieces together.

"Remind me not to piss this girl off" Dean says cringing. "But we burnt those bones. We buried them in salt. Why didn't that stop him?" Dean asks. "You guys must've missed something" Sam suggests and I shake my head.

"No. We burnt everything in that coffin. I doused the son of a bitch with lighter fluid. Whatever preacher is latching onto, it ain't in that coffin" I say firmly and something dawns on me. "Holy crap. The hook" I say in realization. "The hook?" Dean asks.

"It was the murder weapon. And in a way, it was part of him" Sam says shrugging. "So like the bones, the hook is a source of his power" Dean says in realization. "So if we find the hook.." Sam starts. "...we stop the Hook Man" We all say in unison, smiling and nodding

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"Here's something I think" I say, sitting between the boys at a desk in the library, reaching for some kind of information. Dean pulls his pen out of his mouth and they peer over to look at the book. "Logbook, Iowa State Penitentiary. Carnes, Jacob. Personal effects...disposition thereof.." I read out of the book.

"Does it mention the hook?" Sam asks. "Yeah, maybe. 'Upon execution, all earthly items shall be remanded to the Prisoner's House of Worship to, St. Barnabus Church' " I read out loud. "Isn't that where Lori's father preaches" Sam asks and I nod. "Yeah" Dean says. "Where Lori lives?" Sam adds scoffing in irony.

"Maybe that's why the Hook Man's been haunting reverends and reverends daughters for the past 200 years" Dean says. "Yeah but if the Hook were at the church or Lori's house, don't you think someone might have seen it? I mean, a blood stained silver handled hook?" Sam suggests. "Check the church records" Dean says and gets up to grab the record book.

"St. Barnabus, donations. 1862. Received: silver handled hook from state penitentiary. Reforged" Sam sighs, reading the record book as Dean sits across from him and I sit next to him. "They melted it down. Made it into something else" I say shaking my head

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We end up back at the church, hoping to find the reforged hook. "Alright. We can't take any chances. Anything silver goes in the fire" Dean says as we walk towards the church after getting out of the car. I nod and Sam says, "I agree"

"So, Lori's still at the hospital. We'll have to break in" Sam tells us. "Alright. Take your pick." Dean says to us. "I'll take the house" Sam says. "Okay. We'll take the church" I say and he gives me a curt nod before he heads over. "Hey" Dean calls out to his brother.

"Stay out of her underwear drawer" Dean says smugly and Sam scoffs while I laugh. "Not everyone is you, Dean" I say laughing as we walk towards the church. "Damn right they ain't princess" He winks at me and I felt my heart flutter a bit. "Whatever charming" I grumble laughing.

We immediately get to work after breaking in, throwing everything silver into the first. "I got everything that even looks silver" Sam says coming down from the stairs with a bag. "Better safe than sorry" Dean says and Sam hands me the bag. I put it down and me and Dean start emptying stuff into the fire.

Some floorboards creaking caught our attention, we holt in our actions, looking up into the direction of the sound. "Move, move" Dean ushers us to go up the stairs. We all creep behind, following into the church. Dean has the shotgun in hand, ready to shoot.

In the distance on one of the pew, we see Lori kneeling, crying as she prays and my heart gives out for her. Sam looks at us and walks towards her as me and Dean go back downstairs to finish up burning the silver.

"Let's hope after this he finally gets some" Dean chuckles as we walk downstairs to burn more silver. "Is sex all you ever think about?" I laugh, grabbing some silver to throw in the fire. "I'm a growing boy, Y/N. Hormones and all" He smirks at me and I snort. "Oh you're something" I retort as he laughs.

"You okay?" He asks me concerned. "Yeah why?" I ask back surprised. "I don't know. I just haven't seen you smile much in the last couple weeks and it's weird because you're always smiling. I'm just concerned" He says nicely. "Woah, Sammy is rubbing off you on there champ. Are we gonna braid each others hair next?" I joke and he rolls his eyes laughing

"Bite me" He grumbles, throwing the last of the silver in the fire. "Maybe I will" I counter and his eyes snap up to mine. My breath hitches in my throat as his eyes pierce into my (e/c) ones. Our heated gaze is once again cut short by some ruckus above us in the church. We immediately bolt into action.

Dean runs in with the shotgun in his hand and I grab my iron cuffs out of my boots, clutching it to my fingers. When we run up we see Lori on the ground, the Hook Man towering over her and Sam pulling himself out of a bookshelf.

"Sam! Run!" Dean yells as we run and Sam ducks as Dean shoots the spirit. Sam and Lori at on the ground, gasping for breath. "I thought we got all the silver!" Sam exclaims. "So did I!" Me and Dean say in unison. "Then why is he still here?!" Sam yells. "Well, maybe we missed something" Dean states the obvious.

My eyes flicker over to Lori's necklace. "Lori, where did you get that chain??" I ask her. "My father gave it to me" She says hastily. "Where'd you dad get it?" Dean asks roughly. "He said it was a church heirloom. He gave it to me when I started school" She explains. "Is it silver!?" Sam asks loudly.

"Yes!" She confirms and Sam rips it from her neck. When he turns to us, necklace in hand, we hear a scraping behind us. Turning to see the Hook man scraping the wall down the hall. Dean throws the shotgun and some rounds of salt to Sam, which he catches, while simultaneously Sam throws the necklace and I catch it. We run down the hall to go downstairs and burn the necklace.

As we run down we hear a shot fire. Throwing the chain into the fire which takes it sweet time to burn, it finally catches a flame and melts. Me and Dean cheer before hugging, he picks me up and spins around. My heart flutters when I realize what just happened. He drops me back down quickly but gently, clearing his throat.

"Sorry...got caught up in the moment" I say softly. "We're good" He nods at me winking and we run back upstairs to see Sam and Lori in the floor. Happy and sighing in relief.

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The next morning the police is questioning me and Dean meanwhile Sam is getting patched up by the ambulance. "And you saw him too? The man with the hook?" The officer asks us for the millionth time. "Yes, I told you. We all saw him. We fight him off and then he ran" Dean explains exhausted.

"And that's all?" The officer asks. "Yes sir, that's all" I say calmly. "Listen, you, your brother and girlfri- " The officer goes to say to Dean and he begins walking off. "Oh, don't worry. We're leaving town" He says annoyed, cutting him off and I hold back a laugh. Walking with him towards Baby.

As we're walking to the car I ask him, "aren't you freaked out by it?". He cocks his eyebrow at me, confused. "By what?" He asks me, leaning against baby on the drivers side while I lean on the back right passenger side. "People assuming I'm your girlfriend" I ask shrugging and he freezes.

I couldn't help but notice the tinge of pink the rose on his cheeks but I choose to brush it off as the cold weather. He just shrugs and says nonchalantly. "Cant tell people what to think" He jumps into baby before I could respond and I take that as the end of that conversation. Don't get you hopes up L/N, he will never look at you that way.

I jump in and look through the side mirror to see Sam and Lori talking by the ambulance. "You think he's gonna do it?" Dean asks me. "I think he already did it" I say back and he snorts, looking slightly disappointed as Sam walks off and towards the Impala.

Sam gets in, sighing a bit and holding his head. "You alright Sammy?" I ask him concerned and he nods. "We could stay" He says to Sam and he shakes his head sadly. Dean and I look at him worried but with that we make our way out of there.

________________________________

Authors Note:

This is once again, unedited and to whoever is reading thank you for reading and being patient with this upload. I appreciate your support so so so much.🫶

Xoxo

#dean winchester #spn #sam winchester #supernatural #supernatural reader insert #supernatural fandom #supernatural tv show #supernatural fanfiction #dean and sam #sam and dean #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #dean winchester fanfiction

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girlfriendsofthegalaxy · 7 months

Text

tuesday again 2/27/2024

this is the longest ive ever been unemployed and media is only doing so much to beat back the horrors. so let’s talk about the media instead of the horrors

listening

Come Up For Air by We The Commas, off i think one of the autogenerated spotify indie mixes?

youtube

sort of a rollicking modern little surf rock thing, they describe themselves as "surf and alternate rhythm and blue" which is pretty bang on imo. they're all brothers (their last name genuinely is Comma, which i salute as a fellow weird last name haver), and cite john mayer (i don't really hear it) and the beach boys (yes i hear this very much) as some of their influences. a song i had on loop for an entire forty minute drive and did not get tired of. spotify

reading

three books that MUST go back to the library tomorrow bc their autorenew is up and i was emotionally unable to get a library card without tooling around and getting a stack of books a month ago.

thank you philip.

i really only liked the Carmilla adaptation by Amy Chu, bc it really gets at what i didn't realize was the heart of the original 1872 lesbian vampire novella: a toxic gay housing situation you have fallen into and can't get out of bc your area is so so so expensive and housing is so so so tenuous. i have read the original but not in a while, this is an excellent modern adaptation centering around a nyc social worker in the late seventies that presupposes no knowledge and intertwines the original novella in the form of a stolen rare book. (nonconsecutive pages)

i don't have much to say about the DC young adult comic about the circus career of one of the Robins (Dick Grayson). i didn't love the loose artstyle and am not in its intended age range plus it had a bit too much therapyspeak, but it did have a clever use of a very limited color palette.

let's yank the amazon description for the detective novel, which i grabbed bc it vaguely pinged something in my brain about one of the fallout 4 sidequests and i've picked books up for worse reasons (SPOILERS):

Jacob Rigolet, a soon-to-be former assistant to a wealthy art collector, looks up from his seat at an auction—his mother, former head librarian at the Halifax Free Library, is walking almost casually up the aisle. Before a stunned audience, she flings an open jar of black ink at master photographer Robert Capa’s “Death on a Leipzig Balcony.” Jacob’s police detective fiancée, Martha Crauchet, is assigned to the ensuing interrogation.

i simply fucking hated this authorial style and tone and ditched it two chapters in. i don’t currently have the patience for reading about a clinically insane mother and hate crimes against Jewish people. despite the fairly dark premise, the first two chapters veer into cozy mystery with very short sentences, which do not a noir make. now, it does not advertise itself as noir or neo-noir, but as an homage to noir. it is for me unbearably smug. in my most unkind heart of hearts i want to say it's like if wes anderson tried to make a noir. this is a book that wants you to know it has read other noirs. yes thank you ive read several others, that’s why im reading this one, stop reminding me of better books i could be reading.

there's some weird descriptions of womens' bodies in here. chandler (my beloved) is certainly guilty of this as well, but he lavishes a sort of equal opportunity eye on the men in his mysteries. cf the infamous daniel lavery description.

when i read a chandler description of someone’s physical appearance there’s a fruity bisexual aftertaste in my mouth. Howard Norman, below, saying a woman takes great care of herself puts my hackles up. i understand the difference between an author and a character believing something and i don’t want to read a book where either the author or the character have this sort of pitying condescension towards a woman’s body. im feeling extremely terrible about my own body right now due to the various maladies, and another sort of breaking point for me is when an author repeatedly describes "naked breasts" (exact wording) pressing against someone's torso. it feels so juvenile. that's the sexiest thing you can possibly think of??? that's the sexiest way you can think of to describe an early mornign moment of intimacy???? augh i read the NYT review and it gets worse.

shut the FUCK up. i left my apartment at 1130 PM to go put this book in my CAR. i don't want it in my HOUSE.

watching

Bullitt (1968, dir. Yates, free on Tubi). the baddie in this is Robert Vaughn (who i know from cowboys), a guy i fucking love to see. i can take or leave Steve McQueen but he does such a killer job parallel parking in this movie and i wish all driving movies made their leads parallel park. shockingly realistic hospital, morgue, and police work scenes, apparently was one of the big films to popularize blood squibs. also love to see a haunted man splash water on his face and stare into a mirror.

youtube

if you asked me how long the famous car chase was i would have said like 2:30? substantial but snappy. no!!! eleven minutes!! (video a bit trimmed). also a rare movie that makes a foot chase through an airport as exciting as that eleven minute car chase!!!

the mob dodging plot was a little hard to follow, but i was operating on like four hours of sleep and a rum and coke. this has got to be a tremendous movie to watch when you’re home and sick on the couch huddled under a blanket. i mean this as a compliment, as someone who watches Escape from New York whenever i feel very sick

playing

really wanted to get to 69 shrines before writing this post and finally did it. all the little divine beasts walking along the loading screen are SO cute i've never gotten all four before

all the divine beasts are unlocked and the champions laid to rest! im feeling some type of way emotionally speaking about all of them telling link IMMEDIATELY that it wasn't his or zelda's fault they died

rudania has the worst boarding mission (in order of ones i most enjoyed it's camel [SO fast and SO fun], bird [lots of time to think and plan and aim], elephant [did not make me do a tedious stealth mission but i am bad at locking on to rapidly moving things behind me, much like in real life], and lizard. the lizard stealth mission is simply unpleasant). however, my brain really clicked with the puzzles in rudania: i had to consult a walkthrough once for an optional chest. in order of interior beast puzzle enjoyment for me it's lizard, bird, elephant, and camel. really got stuck for a long time on the waterwheels with the elephant before consulting a walkthrough.

the yiga clan stealth mission was not as hard as i thought it would be. i don't know why i put that off for two real life weeks but i will not learn my lesson and i will never improve. this boss battle was just silly.

the vah naboris interior puzzles were not fun. idk what it was about them or my brain that made me have such a bad time, but i spammed revali's gale and skipped a lot of chests bc i was not having fun. this is why god invented the walkthrough but sometimes. shit is just too fiddly.

i did succeed on the thunder ganon boss battle first try, but i came in with extra hearts from mipha's grace, used another mipha's grace in the fight, went through five fairies and seven hearty simmered fruits that were 5x durians (which gives you 20 extra hearts or some shit). fucking nightmare. i was stuck on one hit left on ganon for like five minutes bc he got stuck in the very fast flurry attack cycle. unpleasant. deeply grateful it only made me smack him with the magnesis pillar once bc that was also really fiddly with my poor reaction time + poor fine motor skills + previously mentioned ancient controller with some drift. in order of boss battle enjoyment i think it's lizard (made me think and kept me on my toes a little but i did have to look up how to break the shield), elephant (you can just kind of tank it), bird (same), and camel (extremely not fun).

this was WITH a fully upgraded gimp suit btw. that shit (ganon) just hits hard.

shrine shenanigans:

crowned beast very fun, i have one or two of kass' songs left and then i hope i get to see him back in rito village with his family??? a little nervous bc i went right to the jungle spring without hearing his song first so idk if that will. count??? or softlock me.

the MOUNDS of failed cooking attempts around this shrine on the grasslands side of the gerudo barrier mountains were SO funny.

unlocked all the spring shrines. what a fun mission. what a fun climb.

went to my FAVORITE shrine!!! going into what you think will be a normal cave and discovering it is DEEP with a BIG WHALE INSIDE is top three video game whale moments (the other two are diving with the whales in ABZU and meeting the last whale in the first dishonored).

other bits and bobs:

eggman rocks???

this quest was really cute and i wish there was a corresponding quest for the guy hanging around the broken heart pond, but it always makes me laugh whenever a dragon shows up in the background of a screenshot. a really great touching moment but watch out for the elemental orbs rapidly approaching us

also made me chortle. get it together barta.

i wish the helm was upgradable but i think making me kill a molduga in order to borrow it is a pretty fair trade actually.

making

i originally had a really long thing here about litterbox trials and tribulations but i have decided to spare you all. you're welcome.

many balcony improvements, including putting up trellises and installing bird spikes to hopefully keep a very persistent orange tom off my balcony and away from my girls.

there are a goofy number of obstacles in the way of me making a proper planting diagram (sketchbooks buried deep in closet. flung the seeds in a box on a shelf i need to find my stepstool for. can't find pencil sharpener) so for the second week in a row that's not happening. however, sprouts.

baby italian lettuce blend

bush beans in the front and cucumbers + sweet peas in the back.

#tuesday again #tuesday again no problem

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the-mist-striders · 1 year

Text

Episode 4: The World's Most Sort-of Competent Pallbearers

Note: So dm did a little rewinding, not a retcon because it didn't break anything we did, but he did allow a character moment between the siblings Lucerian and Fauna since they were pretending to not know Amalia and Kai since Amalia was screaming about wanting to kill the entire family inside as Kai was trying to drag her out as the father is threatening Amahlia with a broom

Fauna is fucking pissed that Lucerian tried to sacrifice himself. Lucerian defends his actions, saying he wanted to be sure Fauna could make it out of the murder house, and he knew he could trust the rest if the party to sacrifice themselves

So Lucerian promises to never do that again.

He did however also ask her why she bonded with the crazy lady and not the more tame blind lady

Fauna had no idea Amalia was a crazy bitch, thought she only threatened to kill the kids, beat the shit out of empty suits of armor, and murdered the taxidermy wolves because the house was a weird situation

#ah ignorance is bliss

Fauna says “I just hope we won't have to betray them, like with our last party”

It's a Shame Kai an/or Amalia were distracted and didn't hear that

#cant meta-game

Fast forwarding through the already established scenes in the general goods store and to where we left off- heading to the inn

The town looks desolate

Some of the homes look ransacked

Some look boarded up

In the window of a boarded up home we spot someone moving around inside

Normal shit

The town is colorless and dreary. Like twilight with its blue filter except the filter is piss yellow

An old woman in the distance is pushing a cart, knocks on a door, the family cautiously answers.

The old lady sells pies apparently

And the family is addicted to the stuff

So much so that they're in debt to the old woman

They make up for it by lending their first born (a 6 year old) to the old lady to do housework

Normal stuff

Kai doesn't trust anyone. Is convinced the pies are spiked

Amahlia theorizes that she's using children in her pies

Fauna just wants a pie

Kai used detect poison, she asked specific questions and was reading her internal reactions in order to sus out why the fuck a family would be this addicted to pies

It turns to a conversation about the town and Count Strahd, whose castle is visible from there in the mountains

She implies that every night something happens. Refuses to elaborate. Says it's beyond description

#wow thanks

Pie lady talks about how Strahd is a cruel demon of a ruler

Fauna buys an apple pie

Amahlia hands the lady her tarot card and asks what's up with the card

Old lady is reading the message on the card

Not realizing that Amahlia is fucking running away

Old lady is innocently confused as to why that happens. Asks Kai to bring it back to her. Kai declines, says it tends to find its own way back, thus wrapping up this interaction

In the distance there's a wailing. The dog (Lancelot Is reacting. Struggling against Fauna's carrier. Fauna is reluctant to bring the puppy home but alas Kai convinces her it's the right thing to do

His owner is loudly wailing "GERTRUDA" In her home. Answering the door when Kai knocks, Fauna hands Lancelot over. The woman requests we find her daughter Gertruda. Gives no clues except for a very shitty doll with botched bodily proportions and an awkward smug look drawn on its face.

For some reason Kai is the one the mother requests this from and ends up putting the doll in her satchel

(Why are characters who are supposed to be quiet always end up doing more of the talking?

then again nobody in the party has the charisma skill.

Totally won't end up biting us in the ass at some point)

After that's done Fauna does decide to try discussing Amahlias behavior

She says "have you ever heard the phrase 'it's easier to attract ants to honey than to vinegar"

Amahlia blinks "what the fuck is Honey"

Turns out Amahlia lives on a diet of salted pork

Kai chimes in to help convince Amahlia to be less crazy

We reach a compromise to where we with a password of sorts can permit Amahlia to go apeshit. Using "honey" for "pls keep it together " and vinegar (or "smash") for when Amahlia should be intimidating and violent

Causing Amahlia to start speaking in an extremely fake and exaggerated chipper voice with a smile that doesn't reach the eyes. As a side note I would like to add that every-time she talks this way Amahlia rolls for intimidation because of how terrifying it is.

They head to the inn and this creeps out the bartender as we discuss rooms + a thing to bathe in since they all smell like sewage water

#squad goals

The bartender/ innkeep is like a DMV worker. His soul is gone, his eyebags dark with a voice void of cheer. He's always "cleaning" a glass using a rag that's actually not very clean

Takes some persuasion to get a room, since this town fukin hates outsiders

In the corner there are some well dressed folks making fun of a guy who looks like Heath Ledger in a language none of the party speaks

One of them- a guy who resembled that one guy who got kicked out of Saudi Arabia (?) For being too handsome approaches Kai, nearly killing her instantly

(This guy)

Kai internally again (bass boosted)

She has a weakness for handsome rogues + a certain condition that is out of her control.

He has his hand on her shoulder and asks her to come talk with him and his Troupe of strangely not dreary lads

Alexa play wake me up inside.

Amahlia saves Kai's ass (literally) by in a fucking fake cheery voice saying "oh she's not social :)))"

Guy says "that's too bad" winks at Kai and fucks right off

Pictured: Kai internally

Very weakly says "thank you"

the girls are bonding guis

He tries again when Kai is away from the group

She pulls out 2 cloths, shoves one in her mouth balled up, and wraps the other around her mouth and fucking book's it for her room. Yes this is a very normal reaction, Kai is fine guys.

Meanwhile heath ledger asks Lucerian to take the group to his family manor later

Dm asks me "Kai doing anything before bed" with a shit eating grin

I with a straight face respond "oh the usual"

Nobody at the table questions it.

Btw Kai called dibs on the single room

That night everyone else ate at the bar. Fauna is the only one that trusts the pies. Kai lives on a diet inspired by Kellogg himself, eating a raw and unseasoned potato because spices and sweets are too horny

Fauna mentions that they keep having her pay for shit

Amahlia reaches Into her pocket to pay her back

Pulls out tarot card

Amahlia just drops it to the floor and goes back into her pouch

Pays her back (yay)

She wakes up with her blind fold off

Feels her face and in horror realizes that her *situation* has gotten worse over night.

That these lands are effecting her condition and may be speeding it up

Because of this *condition* her original blindfold no longer fits on her head. She with a heavy heart gets out another blind fold that she carried around just in case this happened. It’s a tighter fit and covers the top half of her head, including the bridge of her nose.

Shaken, she leaves her room, Fauna notices the shape of her head is different. Bizarrely flat around the eyes

Fauna asks if she can help in some way (not knowing what the fuck is even going on)

Kai is too shaken to speak. She just shakes her head

Fauna being a true bro knows she doesn't want to be touched, just sends good vibes that Kai can sense

She appreciatively nods her head

Coincidently my dice rolls started to suck, which we easily say is because she's shaken from the speeding up of her death

So as all of this is happening, the new character Cinderell’s player made to replace Cinderell walks into a bar

The well dressed people go as white as a sheet

"You're supposed to be dead"

They do the superstitious equivalent of making a cross on your chest

Well... cultural equivalent

Her name is Liliya.

Liliya doesn't remember much of who she is

Turns out the well dressed bitches are "Vistani" (I hope I spelled it correctly) outsiders in Barovia (where we currently are)

Her Vistani pals are sus about their friend being alive

Liliya is a stranger to the party, but she feels like she recognizes them

Another odd thing about Liliya is the holy symbol she is wearing

It's Cinderell's holy symbol

Liliya notes that something about this group makes her feel.. familiar... but it reminds her of a place surrounded with water.

Kai feels sus, so she rummaged through Cinderell's gear (which he left with her before sacrificing himself on an alar) and pulls out his signet ring

Liliya looks at it, tenses up and shoves it away.

#hmmm

Kai bribes the bartender for further details on whatever the event at night is that everyone keeps referring to in vague ways.. Bartender mentions that they should be fine as long as they don't join the parade

Kai also plays detective and asks around for details on Gertruda and her disappearance. Doesn't really learn anything new, just that people think she ran away into the mist and that they're sure Strahd got to her and she's as good as dead

Also Getruda is like. 17.

Kool

The people bullying Heath Ledger invite us to go with them to meet a woman named Madam Ava. They agree to do it tomorrow after they visit heath ledgers manor to see what he wants

Manor looks like shit

No windows

Blood splatter

Scratches all over the exterior walls

#ideal summer home

Cautiously heath ledger let's us into his totally legit house

Walls are also covered in holy symbols

#interesting

Also there's a dead body in a casket

Its starting to rot

Very normal

Liliya originally doesn't follow us, she doesn't know us and doesn't trust us. But does change her mind when given a strong feeling that we were going to die unless she came to help

me hearing the Dm say this as a player:

So the gist of Heath Ledger's deal;

His actual name is Ismark, and his sister's name is Ireena. He and his sister were once a powerful family who fell from grace, their father is dead and they wish to bury him in the family crypt.. an entire block away

They need help because no matter what time of day or night people harass them. So they need the help if some fighters to keep away danger

Oh and Heath Ledger's sister was visited by Strahd one night (has a visible vampire bite too) and suspiciously the minions of Strahd who keep assaulting the house don't attack her

Nothing suspicious for us to be concerned for

We agree to help them after tugging on our heart strings

4 of us are carrying the casket

Kai and Fauna are watching for attackers

Because uh

apparently at night the streets are full of wolves and angry bats

Fauna at the back keeps the wolves at bay

Bats are attacking us from above

A bat rips Kai's face covering off, but everyone is too preoccupied to notice yet

Suddenly I get higher rolls again. Ig Kai just has nothing to lose at this point

Kai does also keep wolves at bay

The church is a few steps away. The pallbearers are exhausted

A priest is dragging something long and oddly shaped into the church. We're close behind and make it inside

The party sees what she was covering up this whole time

A vanta black void that seems to go on forever where her eyes and upper bridge of the nose should be, the edges revealing bits of bone and tissue

Everyone ( except heath ledger and his sister who aren't looking) did not know what to expect, but it certainly wasn't that.

Fauna just

Gives her a shirt she can wrap her head with

An act of compassion- but I did for a sec interpret it as "o_o... cover that back up"

The crew is yelling for the priest to grant the dead guy his last rights

He says he’s too busy and won’t tell us why

After Liliya threatens to do the rites instead he finally agrees to help

The party then hears a loud "FATHER I’M HUNGRY"

I have a feeling the voice isn't asking for the priest to go get Mcdonalds

[<< Previous]

[Next >>]

[Episode Directory]

#Episode 4 #Curse Of Strahd #Episodes #DND

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oneletteredwondered · 4 years

Text

One of the Boys

Virgil is a new tenant to an apartment complex and his landlord seems real nice. He told Virgil that should he ever need anything fixed to just give a call. He managed to get over the anxiety of calling someone for help, now he needs to get over the gay panic he experiences every time his landlord sends ‘one of the boys’ over.

Pairing: Everyone has a crush on Virgil who is also gay for everyone.

Warnings: panic descriptions from talking over the phone/to new people. Possible second hand embarrassment, swearing

Prompt pic at the end.

In all fairness, Virgil loves his new place. Way more than the old place he used to live at least. At least here the walls weren’t cracked and seemed sturdy enough that he wouldn’t be able to hear his neighbors through them. While he does his sweep of the place, writing down anything that might be wrong so the landlord can’t blame them on him, there’s barely anything broken or messed up. A clear step up from his old apartment.

“What you say Oogies?” Virgil nods to the black cat lounging on the cat tower after he’s finished his walk through. The cat stares at him, he stares back. They blink slowly at the same time and Virgil puffs out a breath. OogieBoogie wasn’t fond of the move. Complaining loudly at every jostle of the cat carrier. Virgil wanted to let her out but couldn’t until all his stuff was moved in for her safety. Seems like he’s forgiven.

“Come on lazy bones,” He finagles the cat out of the tower and she curls over his shoulders, paws dipping into the hood of his hoodie, and purrs. He smiles and scratches at her chin. For the most part she blends into the patterned fabric, her grey stripes the only thing that pop out, and even then only barely.

Virgil locks the apartment door, cat on his shoulders, and walk-through papers in hand. They walk their way around the complex and to the main office building. Virgil almost hesitates, thinking maybe he should go tomorrow morning at a better time, but OggieBoogie nuzzles his head encouragingly.

“Yeah okay,” He whispers to the animal, knowing she’s smug as he opens the door. It’s fluorescently bright. There’s no one at the front desk. Virgil takes two steps, and nearly backs out, when a friendly face pops out of one of the offices.

“Oh Virgil!” Virgil lets out a sigh of relief. He recognizes the elderly face

“Hey Mr Sanders,” He gives an awkward wave. The cheery man laughs.

“You may call me Thomas you know,” He says smiling at his cat and waving to the animal. She blinks at him.

“Right, yeah, course, Mr. Thomas yeah,” Virgil says. Thomas gives him a fond smile but doesn’t correct him. Thank god. Thomas helped him fill out lease papers when he first came to check out new apartments. Honestly a blessing as Virgil had no idea what he was doing. Bonus that Thomas professed the place to be queer friendly as well. Virgil hung up his rainbow flag in the window the moment he found it.

“Oh I brought the walk through papers back,” He hands them over and Thomas takes them happily.

“Everything good so far?” He asks. Virgil nods, nothing on there that he thought needed fixing, at least right away.

“Oh,” Thomas says softly. Virgil tenses and Oogie starts purring on his shoulder to comfort him.

“Are you having problems with the lights?” Thomas asks, very sincerely. Virgil shrugs a little and Oogie shifts to accommodate his motions.

“Not really, nothing serious,” He tries to play it off. Thomas pouts at his papers.

“Some of the plugs not screwed in properly, not working, a light out in the laundry area,” Thomas ‘tsks’ as he reads off Virgil’s writing. He perks up and offers Virgil a bright smile.

“No worries at all! I’ll send one of the boys over to fix it.” He offers Virgil a wink and riffles through his pockets. He pulls out his wallet and inside it a business card for the office that he promptly hands over.

“You ever need anything fixed, do not be afraid to call ya hear?” Virgil just nods, taking the card with him.

“Wait the boys?” He finds himself questioning. Thomas smiles again with a flippant wave of his hand.

“It’s the name of the contractor company I have hired here for the apartments. Someone should be over in about an hour to help you with the lights.” And with that Thomas is walking away to his own office, leaving Virgil to go back to his new home.

“Shit,” He mutters as he now realizes. Company coming over, and his new home is a mess. He walks quicker than he normally does to try and clean a little before ‘one of the boys’ makes it over. Oogie is not as impressed.

Virgil does well distracting himself. He organizes the boxes and even rearranges the hazardously brought in furniture to his liking. Oogie is lounging in her cat tower again, watching him try not to be frantic. He’s in the middle of putting some tupperware containers in the cabinets when there’s a knock on the door.

He wipes his hands on his jeans to make sure they’re not sweaty, and opens the door. Somewhere in the back of his mind he debates slamming it shut but in the end remains frozen with the front door wide open. Cause there in front of him is an absolutely gorgeous guy, hair slicked back and a cunning smile.

“Good afternoon, my name is Damien. Mr. Sanders said you needed help with some of your lights?” His voice sounds like silk and though there’s a long scar across side of his face, it takes nothing away from his beauty.

“Uh yeah.” Virgil says awkwardly.

“Yeah, yeah,” He says even more awkwardly and moves to the side to let the guy in.

“Much appreciated,” The guy, Damien says. Virgil can’t tell if the dude is cheeky or not, but damn is he flustered trying not to stare at his arms and the way he moves in those white jeans. Who wears white jeans to fix things? Virgil should send them a thank you note.

“Which plugs were having issues?” Damien asks then and Virgil decides words are not needed just this moment and deigns to gesture as best he can. Damien smiles at him and sets to work straightening some of the plugs out and replacing one in the corner when he notices a crack in the casing.

“Excuse me, miss.” He hears Damien say and peeks over his kitchen counter to see Damien gently nudging Oogie away from some of his tools. Virgil whines.

“Oogies come on let the man do his job,” Virgil goes over and scoops the cat up, petting her head to keep her from getting annoyed that she couldn’t continue with her curiosity. Damien laughs though and stands, now taking out the walk through Virgil so diligently wrote not 2 hours ago.

“You said that some of the plugs don’t work and that some of the switches don’t lead to anything?” He glances at Virgil with just a hint of a smirk. Virgil hugs Oogie a little tighter to keep his gay panic from spiraling.

“Yeah just seemed weird? I didn’t know if it was something wrong or what,” He says with a shrug, trying to seem nonchalant. Damien lets out a small laugh and waves Virgil to follow. He pulls out a small plug in light and pushes into one of the sockets Virgil said wasn’t working. He flicks the switch on the wall and the light pops on.

“Oh,” Virgil says and wants to die of embarrassment.

“Well now I feel stupid as fuck,” He says. Damien lets out another laugh, flicking the light twice more to demonstrate.

“It’s to save power that some of the switches lead to the plugs. Nothing broken there. You’re not stupid because you didn’t know.” He takes back his light and once more gives Virgil that sly smile. The worst is he smiles in a way that makes it seem like he knows what he’s doing to Virgil, which is just rude. Except he’s not, Damien is insanely polite which does not help Virgil in the slightest.

“Is there anything else I can help you with?” Damien asks as he puts the last of his tools back in the case.

“Nah. I’m good, thank you,” Virgil says, determined not to make a fool of himself this time. Damien nods his head.

“Have a good rest of your day then. It was a pleasure meeting you,” And this smug bastard winks at him and closes the door behind him. Virgil lets Oogie fall to the floor, picks up the nearest pillow, and screams into it. At least he can do it with proper working lights.

Virgil is freaking out. There’s no other way to put it. He is freaking out. So he got a little lazy and didn’t do his dishes. He’s been working so often and never found the energy to keep up. He decided he had a dishwasher for a reason, and even though he felt bad because the machine wasn’t even full, he ran it, and now there is water over the floor. Shit.

He sits on the couch, legs bouncing, with his phone in his hands. Thomas’s number is on the screen, ready to be dialed at the press of a button. Virgil still isn’t sure if this counts as a proper emergency. He managed to clean up most the water with some of his towels, but water is still coming out. Maybe if he just keeps rinsing out the towels and waits for the cycle to be done, he can pretend it never happened.

OogieBoogie jumps into his lap. She kneeds at his leg and is put out when he doesn’t move right away to pet her or give her proper access to his lap. She bumps her head against him and pushes her way to his chest, knocking his phone with her foot in the process.Virgil hisses at the action and ruffles her face in revenge.

“Hello?” A very faint voice calls out. Virgil swears softly and picks up his phone.

“Uh Mr Sanders Thomas?” He says into the receiver, then pulls it away to stare at the ceiling to briefly wonder what is wrong with himself.

“Yes?” Thomas says on the other line.

“It’s Virgil from Unit 16 B.”

“Virgil! How are you?” Thomas doesn’t sound put out that Virgil is calling him, which is a good sign so far. Virgil takes a deep breath, hands working methodically though Oogie’s fur.

“Doing okay yeah, how are you?” He says, it’s important to be polite. Thomas laughs.

“Doing good over here. What can I help you with?”

“Uhm, my dishwasher is leaking? And there’s water on the floor and I don’t know how to fix it. You said I could call if something is wrong and I just, yeah.” Virgil shrugs to himself. Thomas gasps on the other end.

“Oh no! That won’t do. I’ll send one of the boys over to help clean it up.” And Thomas hangs up. Virgil stares at the phone, then at his cat, then back at the dishwasher. He really doesn’t want Damien to see him embarrassed like this again. He buries his face in Oogie’s side and lets her purr calm him down. He must be there for a while because soon enough there’s a knock on the door.

Thankfully, it’s not Damien on the other end. However, it’s another incredibly attractive guy with a wild smile and even wilder hair that makes Virgil tense up because how. This one wears a shirt with the sleeves ripped off to show how ripped their arms are, and again, white jeans, though this time, the jeans are not as white as they once were, evidence of the work that has been done in them.

“Afternoodle! I’m Remus. The Sander’s Man said something was wishy-washy with your dishy-washy?” His smile in untamed and Virgil stares at him dumbly trying to understand what the hell just came out of his mouth.

“Yes?” He ends up asking more than saying, and moves over so Remus can come inside.

“Much appreciated, now what is gong on here?” Remus smirks down at the mess of the kitchen with his hands on his hips.

“I just ran the dishwasher and water started coming out. I was in the kitchen when I felt it on my foot.” Virgil explains as Remus moves some of the soaked towels over. He finagles the machine to open, something Virgil was too scared to try.

“Oh boy, I see. Give me one hot second here hot tamale, and I’ll get this all cleaned up.” Virgil isn’t sure what he should be more flustered by. Being called hot by a hot guy, or the fact the dude flexed while talking and there is some serious definition in his arms. So Virgil just nods as Remus skips out to the maintenance golf cart outside the door, and brings back in a tool box.

Virgil watches from over the counter as Remus pulls out the racks and practically crawls his way into the dishwasher. Virgil decides it’s a good time to walk away so he doesn’t end up staring at Remus’s ass while he works. That’s not proper behavior for someone who is trying to help.

It’s a few minutes, one colorful yet not quite a swear, and a victory noise later that Virgil feels okay going back to the kitchen area.

“Oh! Hello~ pusspuss!” Virgil gets to watch the exact moment Remus looks up to see Oogie staring at him working. Virgil scoops the cat up.

“Sorry she’s really into strangers.” He says. Though really, she hides from everyone. Remus lets out a cackle of a laugh.

“That’s fine, I’m into strangers too. So I fixed the problem here, no more soggy floors for you. Make sure to run it every so often so it keeps things going clean and unclogged.” Remus says far too quickly for Virgil to respond properly. He picks up his tools and returns them to the case. Virgil does a half-assed job of not staring at his back which is now water soaked.

“Is there anything else I can help you with?” Remus asks at the door. Virgil shakes his head.

“As long as it works I think I’m good,” He says. Remus smiles openly.

“Have a good rest of your day then!” He says and closes the door behind him. There was really no reason for him to flex as he said that but Virgil enjoyed it and no one else has to know.

“Shit shit shit,” Virgil is fumbling. He had to go grocery shopping and get some cat food for OogieBoogieBaby. And no self respecting trash panda such as himself would dream of carrying it back inside in more than one trip. So he’s fumbling with his arms lined with bags that would be cutting into his skin if not for his hoodie sleeves, but even then, those are falling and he wishes it wasn't so hot out.

He manages to make it to his door, shift some bags around so he can get his key out, when the bag of cat food starts slipping. Virgil can see it now, cat food all over the front porch to either collect ants, or other cats, or any other large animal. He wouldn’t feed it to Oogie, to afraid of what is on the ground and if it’ll upset her stomach. He braces for impact and for another quick trip to the store.

“Whoa!” Virgil feels the weight leave him but not the crash. He blinks at the ground, then at a pair of white jeans, then at the bag of cat food in someone else’s arms, then up to the face of a bespectacled stranger with brilliant blue eyes.

“Are you alright?” Stranger asks calmly and takes another bag from Virgil that looks ready to topple at a second’s notice. Virgil snaps out of it once it’s out of his hands.

“Shit yeah thanks,” He breathes out in a rush, thankful as all hell as he manages to finally get the door open. He pushes it with his hip and Oogie is waiting at the door for him, meowing up at him. He coos a greeting to her and sets the bags down in the kitchen, the stranger follows only to the inside door and puts the bags down there to not intrude.

“Thank you so much,” Virgil says once he’s done pretending he can carry that much. The stranger just offers him a small smile, kneeling down to let Oogie sniff his gardening glove covered hands.

“It was my pleasure to help you. My name is Logan, I’m one of the workers on site.” He says and stands. His voice is low and calming, it would make for a great audio book, and Virgil is not going to spend the rest of the day thinking about that.

“Though I do apologize for suddenly grabbing your things, I know that can come across as ‘creepy’ and I do not wish for that to be my first impression.” He pries a glove off and holds out his hand. Virgil takes it and gives it a small shake.

“I’m Virgil, and this is OogieBoogie,” He introduces himself and his cat who has deigned to jump on the counter and sniff at the contraption on Logan’s back. He gently pushes the cat away with a soft look in his eyes.

“Pleasure to meet both of you. None for you I’m afraid,” He chides Oogie gently. Virgil swallows because damn, someone interacting gently with his cat more of a heart throb than originally intended. And Logan is nothing if not simply scholarly stunning.

“My apologies again, be sure to let someone know if there’s anything we can help you with. Have a wonderful rest of your day,” Logan nods his head softly and there is just the smallest crinkle around his eyes hidden under his glasses and Virgil is so weak as he closes the door to his apartment. He’s come into contact with one too many pretty people at this complex and it will be the death of him. Still, it is nice to wave to Logan every so often as he preens the landscaping around the buildings.

Virgil watches as water drips down the window. It started the other day after some rains. He put a towel under it to keep some of the water from ruining anything, but it’s still going the next day. Virgil sighs and looks at his phone, Thomas’s number on the screen. He takes a deep breath and presses call.

“Hello?” Thomas answers.

“Hey Mr. Thomas it’s Virgil, from Unit 16 B.” A practiced line. Thomas gives a happy gasp.

“Virgil how are you?” Thomas always sounds excited to speak to him. It helps.

“Doing okay, how are you?” He asks, absently petting Oogie’s back.

“Good good! How can I help you?” Thomas asks in turn. Virgil looks at the window.

“Something’s up with my window? It’s like.. leaking.” He explains but not really. Thomas hums.

“Did this start up with the rain?”

“Yeah, I’ve tried cleaning it with towels but it keeps going.” Virgil says. Thomas makes another hum noise.

“Sounds like a problem with the roof. I’ll send one of the boys over.” And Thomas hangs up. Virgil isn’t as put off with the abrupt ending, expecting it this time around. He glares at the window and goes to wait for ‘one of the boys’. Oogie follows over and demands pets. It a decent distraction till a loud knock comes from the door.

Virgil opens it and it's just unbelievable how down right beautiful this guy is. His hair in perfect waves and a charming smile on his face. His sleeves are also cut like Remus's were, but far less frayed.

"Wonderful morning, my name is Roman. Our dear Mr. Sanders told me there were some ill issues with the roof is that right?" He speaks with such confident flamboyance Virgil is a loss for words.

"Yeah," Is all he manages to say. He's pretty. Way too pretty for this.

"Yeah, sorry it's over here," He turns and leaves the door open for Roman to follow. Roman laughs loud and proud and does just that. Virgil shows him the window and does not bit his lip as Roman jostles the frame showing off muscles that are illegal.

"The panes seems closed but I'll check outside as well." He turns and heads out the door. Virgil follows.

"And the roof?" He asks. Roman offers him a dashing smile, checking his tools that he attaches to his belt, holding up pristine white jeans.

"You may hear some noises for a while as I'm up there, but fear not, I'll find the problem." He gives Virgil a wink and with ease, he finds a ledge on the building and hoists himself up. Virgil does not squeak. Certainly not cause he's scared that Roman will fall, and certainly not cause he rolls his shoulders and Virgil can see his body move and god damn it he’s so not straight.

So he goes inside and pretends there’s not a real attractive guy fixing his roof. The noises of fixing continue for an hour or so, Virgil keeping busy with cleaning and some mild work emails. Then the noises stop. Virgil glances at his ceiling curiously.

"Uh, Roman?" He calls from his front door, making sure the dude didn't fall off and die.

"Be down in a moment fair tenant!" He hears. Virgil rolls his eyes and barely turns when Roman suddenly lands in front of him.

"Roof is all set. There were a few shingles out of-"

"Did you just jump off the roof?!" Virgil interrupts. Roman blinks at him and has the nerve to smiling so dashingly again.

"I dare say I did," he says as if it's no big deal. Virgil sputters at the reckless, careless, brash attitude. Roman is far too entertained by it.

"I'm honored by the concern, dearest. Just one more moment to check the window from the other side." He winks again and is walking around the building before Virgil can say anything.

He grabs Oogie and plants his face in her fur. Too gay to function. He talks to her plainly about how unfair it is that pretty boys plague his life, only to find out he can absolutely be heard through the window by Roman asking in a muffled voice.

"You think I'm pretty?" Virgil screams and hides in his room, hearing Roman laugh through the wall. This is how he dies, he decides. This is even worse than the time Damien had to tell him his lights weren’t broken, he just didn’t know how to use them. This is so much worse.

He groans loud and dramatically when there’s a knock on his front door. He doesn’t want to open it. But he does, cause it’s rude other wise.Roman stands there, smug expression and a bright smile.

“Checked everything and cleaned up some water. A few shingles out of place and a loose vent, got those all patched down. If it continues to leak it might be a bigger issue so be sure to call if it does. Anything else I can help you with?” He asks. Virgil takes a steady breath to say no.

“I think I’ve dug my own grave enough for today,” He says, further digging his own embarrassment grave. Roman gives another laugh.

“Enchanted to meet you pretty boy, have an amazing rest of your day.” And then Roman honest to goodness bows and drives off in the golf cart. Virgil closes his door softly and looks at Oogie who stares back from her perch on the counter.

“Don’t even start,” He tells the cat. She looks away like she doesn’t know what he’s talking about.

“Boogs! No!” Virgil does not like shouting at his cat. He doesn’t like shouting in general. But it gets OogieBoogieBitchBaby away from the wall she is using as a scratching post. She scampers off as he approaches, fingers going over the claw marks in the wall. He groans to himself.

He moved her cat tower because she kept getting onto his work papers. In revenge for disposing her from her favorite perch and sights of the room, she clawed at the wall instead, leaving a few nasty scratches behind.

“How am I supposed to fix this?” He asks where she’s run off, hearing her run around. He bangs his head on the wall. This is not how he wanted his night to go. In the end, he has Thomas’s number on his phone and piece of paper he tore to shreds in worry over what he could possibly say.

“Hello?” Thomas answers.

“Hey Mr. Sanders, it’s Virgil. I-”

“Virgil! How are you?” Thomas asks. Virgil takes a deep breath.

“I’m- I’m so sorry Mr. Sanders. It was an accident I swear.” He needs to apologize, cause if Mr. Sanders kicks him out, he’ll have to go hunting for places to live again, and who is going to take him with a cat who destroys things, and then because no one will take him, he’ll die on the streets and Oogie will eat his toes.

“My cat Oogie she got upset with me and she clawed the wall and I’m so sorry,” He says in a rush.

“Hey, hey Virgil it’s okay. It happens, our furry friends do funny things. I’ll send one of the boys over to help fix it right up, okay?” Virgil swallows a lump in his throat at Thomas’s easy solution.

“Okay,” He croaks out and then hears the click of someone hanging up. He lets his phone drop and then puts his head in his hands. He doesn’t want to be kicked out his apartment, or to have Mr. Sanders think bad of him as a tenant, or as a bad pet owner. He throws himself back on his couch. He feels so dumb.

Thankfully, there’s a gentle knock to his door. Hopefully his savior in this mess. He opens it to bubbly boy in round glasses, giving him the most cheerful smile Virgil’s ever seen.

“Hey there, evening to you, my name is Patton. Mr. Sanders said we have some kitty claws on the walls?” He asks. Virgil lets his shoulders drop.

“Yeah, I’m so sorry about it.” He says Patton waves his hand.

“It’s not a cat-astrophe, it happens. Can you show me where it is?” He asks. Virgil nods and steps back to let the boy in white jeans in, then pauses.

“Did you just make a pun?” He deadpans. And Patton giggles.

“Sorry, sorry, just slipped out. I’m pawfully bad at them.” He says with a bright smile. Virgil stares at him, then snorts into his hand.

“That was really bad,” He says but Patton just beams at him.

“Got you to laugh though.” And Patton should not sound so proud of making a stranger laugh. Virgil coughs to cover his awkward and shows him where Oogie got to the wall and Patton ‘tuts’ in response, putting down a bag of tools on the floor.

“I have just the thing to get this back in purr-fect conditions.” Patton opens his bag and pulls out some paint and calking. Virgil steps back to let him do his job, very aware that Oogie is hiding somewhere away from him. It makes him nervous to not see his cat in the area. Sure Oogie isn’t a registered therapy animal, but she does a good job of keeping him calm.

“There, al-meow-st done!” Patton smiles at him over his shoulder and adds another coat of paint to the wall, looking good as new. Maybe it’s the puns or the cute, but Virgil does relax.

“Thanks for that.” Virgil says as Patton cleans up. He giggles once more and waves Virgil’s concern off again.

“It’s no big deal, it’s what we’re here for.” He reassures. Virgil sighs and turns to the small meow behind him. Oogie is on the table staring at him. Patton lets out a squeal of happiness.

“Oh she’s precious!” He says in syrupy sweet voice. Virgil snorts again and looks between the two.

“Wanna pet her?” He asks and before he finishes Patton is shaking his head.

“Un-fur-tunately I’m allergic. But she is paws-itively adorable.” Patton coos and waves to the cat, Oogie does nothing in return but that’s to be expected. Virgil rolls his eyes at the both of them.

“Thanks again for your help,” He says. Patton beams and there are freckles on his cheeks. Freckles, too cute, not allowed.

“Of course! Anything else I can help you with?” He asks. Virgil’s turn to shake his head.

“I think we’re good now,” He says. Patton giggles once more.

“Have a claw-some rest of your night,” And that shouldn’t be funny but Virgil snorts again and Patton is proudly walking off.

What the fuck, what the fuck. Virgil stares at the door knob in his hand. He just went for a late walk to get his mail, Oogie joining him on his shoulders. Something rattled in the door knob when he opened it, having to actually shove the door open to get back inside after unlocking it. When he went to close the door, the handle came off in his hand before he could close it proper.

What the fuck.

He stares at the space where the door knob was and his open door. His mind immediately races to all the creepy people who can break in and steal things or kidnap his cat. Or even all the bugs that will make home in his food and hair. Nope. None of that.

“Hey Mr Sanders?” Virgil says first, his anxiety over the open door he can not close for fear it won’t open again overriding his normal fear of calling his land lord.

“Virgil! How are you? It’s very late,” Thomas yawns on the other end. Virgil winces. He probably should have thought this through considering the time.

“I’m okay, so sorry to wake you, it’s just. My door handle uh, fell off?” There’s a pause.

“Well that’s not good.” Thomas says.

“I’ll send one of the boys over.” He hangs up plainly. Virgil has enough time to worry if he made Thomas upset by calling so late, and worry Oogie somehow got out only to find her cuddled in her tower, when the bad lights from the maintenance golf cart shine through the crack in the door.

There’s an awkward knock and Virgil pulls the door open. He’s not sure who in their right mind has sunglasses on this late, but at least this gorgeous person isn’t using them to hide their bright eyes. They give him a quirky smile.

“Well this isn’t something you see every day.” They remark and Virgil has to huff out a laugh, some of his panic subsiding.

“Evening babes, I’m Remy. What happened?” He asks and goes about unscrewing the rest of the door knob, kneeling down and scuffing his white jeans that nearly glow in the darkness. Virgil tells him the lead up and Remy scoffs out a laugh of their own, giving Virgil a glance, that turns into a once over, that shakes him to the core.

“No worries, I can see the broken piece. Easy fix.” He winks at Virgil and gets a spare doorknob from the golf cart. Virgil stand idly by as he fixes it, keeping Oogie from getting too close.

“Wassup cat?” Remy asks and gently puts his knuckles to her head in greeting. She makes a noise and then trots off, satisfied with the attention.

“What’s their name?” Remy asks while he screws things back together.

“That OogieBoogie, Oogie for short, though she’s been more of an OogieBoogieBastard lately.” She meows at Virgil from the top of her tower. He hisses back at her. Remy snorts.

“Nice, I have an orange cat named Pumpkin.”

“Nice,” Virgil says back. Remy smirks at his response and keeps working. Vigil pretends the look on Remy’s face didn’t give him reckless night vibes, that he would take Remy up on if he asked, cause damn, the dude’s hot.

“May I borrow your key for a second babes?” Remy twists the knob a few times and with Virgil’s borrowed key, closes, locks, and opens the door with no problems.

“All good to go, anything else I can help you with?” He asks as he hands back the key. Virgil shakes his head.

“Nah, I’m good, thanks for that,” He says. Remy gives him a wink.

“Have a good night babes.” Another wicked smirk and Virgil does his best to close his door at a proper speed. His heart is pounding and these pretty boys will be the end of him.

“Hi! Welcome in, how can I help you?” Cute, is all Virgil can think when he enters the office. Pastel, is second. There’s a new receptionist at the desk, freckles and a mega-watt smile.

“Hi uh, I got a notification I have a package?” He stammers out. Oogie purrs at his shoulder, reminding him it’s okay.

“Sure! What apartment number?” Virgil rattles off his numbers as the receptionist looks in the package closet.

“For Virgil?” They ask. He nods and takes his box, keeping it away from Oogie as it’s a surprise for her birthday.

“Oh! I’m Emile by the way. I’m working in the office now so if you need anything just give us a call okay?” They’re so earnest. Virgil ends up just nodding his head, only speaking when Oogie bumps her head to his.

“Yeah, thanks,” He says and before he can make an exit Thomas appears from inside one of the offices.

“I thought I head you! Virgil, how are you?” He asks. Virgil gives him a soft smile.

“Good, and you?” It’s only polite. Thomas lets out a laugh.

“Good here too. Say, the staff is hosting a tenant party here, some games and some food, you should join us if you’re not busy.” Thomas hands Virgil a flyer with some gaudy colors. Virgil does a good job of not letting his dislike of the idea show.

“You should totally come!” Emile beams at him and it does something gay to Virgil’s heart. Virgil glances at the two of them smiling at him.

“I could stop by?” He offers not waiting to make them mad at him. They cheer and turn back to their jobs. Virgil walks back to his apartment, petting Oogie as he does.

“What did I just get myself into?” He asks her. She bumps her head to his hand in response.

It’s not a bad turnout for an apartment complex party. Virgil does show up, Oogie situated on his shoulders. Even though its closer to summer, He’s still wearing his hoodie if not just to give her a place to put her paws should she wish to.

There’s those plastic cheap tables lining around the pool area, boxes of pizza and some crinkly plastic containers of mini sub sandwiches sit on top. There’s a section for drinks and cups right next to. Virgil gets himself a cup of lemonade.

He glances about. Some people are playing some bean bag toss game, others are playing on the mini putt putt area Virgil didn’t even know they had. Lots of people are in the pool, messing around and splashing water at each other. He sticks to the sidelines.

“Virgil!” Or maybe not. He looks to who called his name and though he’s happy Logan called for him so he doesn’t have to be alone, he’s lamenting the fact that not only is it Logan, he’s also with Patton, Damien, and Remy. Fuck. Virgil goes bug eyed, giving himself a pep talk, helped along by Oogie making a ‘mrrp’ noise in his ear, and walks to his doom.

“Hey Logan,” Virgil says once he’s close. Patton waves as best he can with hands full of pizza.

“Sup babes?” Remy asks with damn smirk, sunglasses appropriate now. Virgil rolls his eyes.

“Damien, if you don’t remember,” Damien holds out his hand. Virgil of course remembers embarrassing himself in front of freaking sleek attractive Damien, but he isn't about to say that. Virgil takes his hand to shake and Damien flips it to bring a kiss to the back of Virgil’s hand. Virgil’s jaw drops as Patton giggles helplessly.

“Dee don’t do that!” He says but there’s not force behind it. Damien just smiles like the cat that got the cream.

“I didn’t know you two were familiar?” Damien turns the attention to Logan now. Logan just pushes up his glasses.

“I admit to helping Virgil carry in groceries more than once.” Logan says, giving Damien a look that Virgil doesn’t have the power to decipher. Patton whines.

“Kiddo you could have asked for more help,” He says. Virgil shrugs.

“Two trips are for the weak.” He and Remy tap their glasses together in a cheers.

“Yes and I’m sure dropping your groceries is also for the weak.” Logan chides and it does hit a little harder, but still Virgil taps his glass to Remy’s again in a cheers.

“Virgil!” Someone calls and Virgil is blinded by the force of Emile’s smile so suddenly in his face.

“You came!” He’s excited. Virgil nods and takes a step back. Oogie murmurs upset on his shoulder.

“Yep, I said I would and hey, free food.” He ignores the looks the others give each other and Emile just bounces.

“Well I’m glad you’re here. Me and Patton were gunna play corn-hole later, you should join us!” Patton gives an equally excited gasp as Emile gestures to the bean bag toss.

“Uh sure,” Virgil says. Emile bounces and waves, and is off to say hi to other residents as soon as he came. Virgil is reeling from the interaction and it only gets worse.

“Is that pretty boy??” Virgil hears the splash before he sees anyone but then Remus is there in his face, shirtless and in swim trunks and dear god, he has a tramp stamp.

“Hello again stranger~” He coos. Virgil musters up a hi when suddenly another shirtless person is standing next to Remus.

“It is pretty boy! How are you darling?” Roman says. Virgil has officially hit gay panic mode. If the earlier mix of suave and cute wasn’t enough to do him in, the pure amount of muscle now is going to do him in.

“Fine,” He chokes out. Remus and Roman both laugh at his answer. Great. If he hoped for any kind of saving from the others, it’s surely a dashed hope by the amused looks on their faces.

“Are you joining us in the pool?” Remus asks excited. Oogie hisses from his shoulders. Vigil raises a hand to calm her and she nuzzles his knuckles.

“Uh not today.” He says, which is the wrong thing to say.

“But another day?” Remus asks all wild excited. Roman shoves him.

“Like he wants to spend time with your gross ass!” Roman shouts playfully. Patton huffs and calls him for his language but he is ignored. Remus gasps offended with a wild smirk on his face.

“Sure he does, can’t keep his eyes off these guns,” And Remus flexes. Virgil smacks a hand to his face. Oogie dips to hide in his hood. Roman lets out a laugh and firmly shoves Remus back into the pool.

“The only gun he needs is a glock to the face.” Roman puts a fist in his hand, flexing as well. The pun does get Patton to giggle though and Damien rolls his eyes.

“Virgil I am going to get some food, would you like to accompany me?” Logan asks finally done with the nonsense.

“How do you know his name!?” Roman screeches.

“I asked.” Roman let's out an outright offended gasp for whatever reason. He doesn’t get to say another word as Remus from out of no where, runs and tackles Roman back into the pool with no such boundaries.

“Food sounds good,” Virgil says. Logan smiles softly at him.

“I think I shall join you,” Damien says looking into his cup which doesn’t look empty but who is Virgil to judge.

“Come find me and Emile when you’re done okay?” Patton interjects before they can leave. Virgil offers him a two finger salute, and then leaves Patton and Remy to go find Emile, while he finds food.

“Idiots,” Logan mutters once they are away from the pool. Damien hums in thought.

“But not wrong,” He says.

“They aren’t right either.” Logan snaps back.

“Should I go?” Virgil asks as they are clearly not talking to him. Both Damien and Logan look at him scandalized.

“Certainly not!” Damien says and gives him a slick smile. Virgil swallows down his lemonade to keep his throat from clogging up. He spends some time talking to the two of them, making sarcastic comments and opening up. Oogie pops out to lick his hair at one point.

At that, Virgil finds Emile somewhere, letting them know he’ll be right back, wanting to drop Oogie off at home. He’s comfortable enough here to not need her reassurances, besides, she’s tired from napping and needs to go home to sleep. With some ‘hurry back’ wishes, he’s off back to his place.

He makes sure Oogie is comfy and goes to leave, finding Thomas waiting in one of the golf carts outside his door.

“Need a ride?” He offers. Virgil laughs and joins him in the small vehicle.

“Virgil if I may, I have a favor to ask of you?” Thomas says seriously. Virgil nods his head as his lungs refuse to let him breathe for fear of the favor.

“Please be kind to my grand kids yeah?” Thomas asks, an earnest look in his eyes. Virgil isn’t sure what he’s talking about, but then he looks up. All of the boys who have been coming in and out of his life to fix his home are there staring and waiting for him to get back with the same look in their eyes.

Oh. Virgil thinks.

Oh no.

AN: Lol that multiship life

Edit: now with a part 2

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lustbile-archive · 4 years

Text

In The Cards

HaechanxReader

Word Count: 3.7k

Summary/Warning: Smut. Best friend Haechan wants you to read his tarot :( warning! very beginner tarot knowledge. all card interpretations found on the app golden tarot

Request: can i request a bestfriend-to-lovers hyuck where he and the reader share their first time together?

This is the third installment of my week of halloween fics. Info about possible blurb night here

“Please?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s weird.”

“How is it weird?”

“Haechan seriously,” you finally turn to face him as you lay side by side on your bed, the pout and puppy eyes he wears on his face the exact thing you had feared to see as you knew he had his ways of convincing you no matter what, “you’re asking me to do a reading on your love life.”

“And how is that weird?” his voice pitches as he turns to mirror you, now with you both on your sides and your phones tucked under your respective pillows you have no choice but to stare into his warm eyes. His body is dramatically lax as he relaxes into the mattress, already ready to toss his body around obnoxiously if you decide to deny him again.

“You’re my best friend dude, it would be weird to see what the cards say about your possible romantic activities,” you were somewhat telling the truth. Yes, you thought it would be kind of weird to see what your cards had to say about his love life, the idea being weirdly intimate for you, but you also knew that there was a small part of you, an evil yet insecure little gremlin that had made a home in your heart a few months before, that would take whatever they say directly to heart. You never anticipated forming romantic feelings for the boy in front of you, actually when you and Haechan had first started getting close you stubbornly denied that something like that happening was possible, yet here you were stupidly infatuated with the boy who lays in your bed wrapped warmly in a worn hoodie with your heart trapped between his teeth, “that and I’m not even that good at doing readings yet.”

“An even better reason to do it,” he sits up with a jolt of energy making you return to your place on your back to watch him, “so even if you do my reading, like you said you’re not that experienced so we won’t take what they say to heart right? It can just be for fun.”

Your eyes squint in disbelief as you try to read the look on his face. Regardless of his words, you know it wouldn’t just be for fun. Haechan had made it kind of obvious on the few occasions that tarot readings, and things related to things of that nature, were brought up, that he truly did believe it. Haechan had a whimsy about him, a belief and willingness to believe in things outside of himself, things he couldn’t really explain, and usually you’d find it incredibly endearing, but now it just helped in raising your stress levels.

“Come on dude,” his head tilts back and his face scrunches as he tries to convince you, his determination unfortunately making a smile start to pull onto your lips, “I’m bored and the ambiance is way too sexy right now for us to not do some witchy shit.”

Again, like always, he was unfortunately right. It was late into the night, nearing 3 am, and a storm raged loudly outside. The storm being the exact thing that had locked Haechan in your room to begin with as it had knocked your power out an hour or so before the time he was meant to leave, so he had decided to stay instead. He had claimed it was because he didn’t want to bother with traveling in the storm, but you could easily pick out the softness behind his eyes when you casually mentioned not wanting to be alone in the dark.

Along with the steady storm, you had also gathered your collection of candles and scattered them lit around the room, that and the quiet sounds of Florence + The Machine and Fleetwood Mac playing from the small speakers connected to your phone only supported Haechan’s argument. You two had perfectly crafted the perfect atmosphere to ask questions to some other force, and you can’t help but kick yourself for putting yourself in such a position.

“Okay fine,” you finally respond hesitantly, a grimace on your face and you move to sit up as well. You hate the way your chest tightens at his reaction to your words, an excited jump bouncing him in the air as he leans over to the table you keep to the side of your bed. The idea that he just knows exactly where you keep your things dances tauntingly in your mind and you angrily push it down as you move to sit facing him with your legs crossed underneath you.

“Found ‘em,” he whispers as he rifles through the drawer, a quiet triumphant noise squeaking from his chest as he moves to sit back in front of you, mirroring the way you sit with a smug grin on his face.

“Shuffle them a couple times for me,” you say, motioning to the deck in his hands, and he does so immediately. His fingers work slowly and gently, the fear of damaging the deck floating around his form. He splits it a few times, shuffling them together in a neat stack before he hands them to you like a devious cat happily offering their owner a dead mouse, and you smile softly at his consideration for your things.

“I’m only gonna do a three card pull okay? Past, present, and future okay?”

“Yeah, yeah that’s cool,” he nods excitedly as he shifts around where he sits, his anticipation slowly gaining on him, “I’m cool with whatever.”

“Okay give me a question to ask while I shuffle,” you command, your hands holding the deck as you get ready to shuffle, “it can be as detailed or vague as you want, the cards should understand what we're asking.”

“I just wanna know…’’ he hesitates for a moment, his lips caught between his lips as he thinks, “love life I-.... hm… I guess I want to ask it to show me the path my love life will take.”

You only nod in response before your eyes fall closed. Your heart beat picks up and your hands shake slightly in your nervousness, but regardless you begin to repeat the question in your mind as your hands begin to move. ‘Show me the path of Donghyuck’s love life’ you speak to your cards as they dance between your fingers, your hands much more rough than Haechan’s.

His breathing is almost deafening as it's the only human sound that hits you as you work, and you hear it catch when your hands stop moving.

Your eyes open again, and with a deep breath you lean forward to spread the cards out in front of him in the shape of a fan, “pick three and put them in my hand,” you command again with your hand held out flat, “whichever three speak to you.”

“Okay,” he whispers, his fingers moving to hover over the cards and the way he holds himself he looks as if you’ve just asked him to take a standardized test. He jolts slightly before grabbing the card below his hand, and it's quickly placed on your palm. His reaction when picking the other two are not much different, and after a minute or two you have all three cards and you’re gently collecting and setting the remaining cards to the side.

“Okay,” you start as you shift to get in a more comfortable position, “we’ll start with past.”

He nods as you move to lay down the first card you were handed, the card revealing itself to be The Lovers, their naked bodies and the angel that lives behind them almost taunting you and making you tongue stick dryly to the roof of your mouth.

“Okay..” you trail off as you glance at the boy in front of you, his eyes going slightly wild at the sight of the card in front of him, “now present.”

Wanting to get out of the situation as quickly as possible, you lay the next card down, and before you now lay the two of cups. Another pairing of people to stare as you squirm.

“Finally,” you huff moving to lay down the last card, “future.”

With a soft thud, you place the card down, the naked woman that floats in the center of The World card is impossible to ignore. Haechan hums quietly in consideration, his head bobbing slightly as his eyes move across the spread before him. He looks pensive for a moment when he looks up at you, until a playful grin takes over his features.

“What does any of this mean?” he asks with a laugh.

“Well,” you start moving to grab the book you keep next to your pillow that hold the different descriptions of the cards, scolding yourself for still not having them memorized, “none of them are reversed so that that as a good sign, and none of them are The Tower so you’re not doomed to die alone I suppose.”

He laughs again as he watches you flip through the book, your eyebrows knitted together as you search for the first card.

“Okay so, your past is The lovers,” you start, one hand resting on top of the card as your eyes shift around the page, “it represents partnership, union, duality, and choice. This says it means a union of harmony, full of trust, confidence and strength, This relationship both a physical attraction and a deep emotional bond between them.”

You stutter slightly as you read, your eyes darting up to gage his reaction once the words leave your mouth, his face is soft but serious as he thinks, and you can’t help but get overwhelmed by the look.

“Okay, and then present,” you hand shifts to the Two of Cups while your other hand flips to the correct page, “this card means unity, partnership and two become one…” you trail off slightly, hoping Haechan only assumes it’s from you trying to read the page and not for the real reason that is the words in front of you makes you heart beat harshly against your chest, “signaling a union and partnership of balance, honor, and respect, The ancient symbol of the caduceus also suggests energy, passion, and sex, and the intermingling of opposite forces.”

“Oh,” he responds involuntarily as he absorbs the words you speak, and you can only wish that you could crawl into his mind and see exactly what he’s thinking.

“Okay and lastly, your future,” you shift again, your previous position suddenly not feeling comfortable anymore, “The World card represents fulfillment, harmony, and completion. It says, absolute unity, perfection, accomplishment that draws from inner and outer sources. This card signals the harmony of the inner and outer worlds, and reaching a level of enlightenment. An era of one's life is complete and there is joy and celebration that is coming to welcome it.”

With a soft smacking noise, you shut the book and place it back to its spot next to your pillow. Your words still linger in the air with a tension wrapped around them, and in your desperation to avoid Haechan’s eyes you begin to return the cards to the deck, a silent thank you being spoken in your mind as you thank them for their knowledge.

“So what do you think about that?” he asks, his voice softer than earlier, the tone making your eyes dart up to try and read the emotion on his face.

“It’s not about what I think Hyuck…” you place the hair tie that lives on your wrist around the deck to secure it and place it on top of the book, and when your done you lean back onto the palms of your hands to survey his body language while also creating more distance between you, “it was your reading so it’s your interpretation, what did that tell you?”

The words come out like you’re trying to cough up years worth of chewed gum and the way they clog your throat makes you feel weird. It may be up to his interpretation, but you can’t stop the way the cards and their meanings make you feel as they wrap a confusing combination of hope and terror around your fragile heart.

“I think,” he starts as he once again moves to mirror the way you sit, a soft but unsure smile on his face, “they told me exactly what I needed to hear.”

“And what was that Hyuck?”

“Well you know, the whole emphasis on partnership, and union, and choices. If anything i’m starting to think your cards like me a little bit cause they kind of told me exactly what I wanted to hear.”

“And what was it you wanted to hear Haechan?” you ask, his smugness and confidence making you laugh quietly.

“That I’m not putting my hope or my heart in the wrong place. I think it’s saying that I’m right in wanting the thing I want so badly.”

“Jeez Donghyuck,” you huff as you fall to lay back onto your side, a giddy feeling flooding you as he once again follows suit, “you speak in more riddles than the cards do.”

“Oh do you want me to tell you straight forward what those cards just told me?” he asks rhetorically as he lays close enough for his face to crowd you personal space, his breath occasionally hitting your skin.

“Well yeah, lay it on me Hyuck, what did those cards encourage you to do?”

“I’ll fucking lay it on you alright,” he doesn’t even give you the time to form the question in your mind of what he could possibly mean before he’s on the move. He’s on you before you can blink, his body pushing you onto your back and his hands landing against your bed next to your head and caging you in. Your body reacts before your mind does, and your hands are gripping his wrists and you legs are falling to the side to allow him to rest between your thighs, as he knocks the air from your lungs with his mouth pressing against yours.

You both let out matching hums in content at the feeling of each other’s lips. You’d call yourself a liar if you said you had never imagined what it would be like to kiss the boy that now rests on top of you, but no matter how many hours you had logged dreaming about the very moment, none of it prepared you for now.

He rests his body flush against yours as his lips work against yours, and there’s only a beat of time before his tongue is brushing against your bottom lip, begging for entrance.

You break away, the idea of him feeling the same way as you filling you with childish excitement and confidence, so much that you can’t stop yourself before you’re teasing, “so my cards told you to attack me?”

“Hush,” he pecks against your lips once before speaking again, “they told me I was completely in the right for being in love with my best friend, and that making a move would only end in happiness.”

“You’re in love with me?” you ask, those being the only words that stick in your mind, Your hands tighten around his wrists, and the skin of his face flushes in realization of what he said.

“Uh… yes,” his eyes are filled with his nerves as they lock onto yours. The internal debate he has with himself of wanting to tear his eyes away while being completely unable to is transparent and puts you at ease at the idea that he’s just as nervous as you, “I’m sorry if that’s really abrupt, but I really am.”

“Donghyuck,” you whisper, leaning up to nudge the tip of your nose against his, “I’m in love with you too.”

“Thank fuck,” he swears louder than intended, and you giggles of happiness is smothered by his lips latching to yours again.

There’s no asking this time as his tongue shoves its way into your mouth, and you let out a pleased groan when the moment he licks at the back of your teeth, his hips shift down and he begins to softly grind against the crotch of the thin fabric of your pajama shorts.

“Tell me,” he speaks between open-mouthed kisses that he places across you mouth and up your jaw, his words doing their own licking against the shell of your ear, “tell me if you want to stop, cause I don’t think I can.”

“I trust you Hyuck,” you whisper during the fleeting second that your mouth is free, “do whatever you want, I’m so in love with you.”

He groans loudly at the string of words that leave you, the noise cutting through and disrupting the smooth voice of Stevie Nicks and his body returns to rocking gently against yours.

Your hands trail away from his wrists, moving up his forearms and up until your fingers tangle in his hair. The slight tugging you give to his roots pulls another groan from his mouth, and the sparks of pleasure that hits your lower stomach at the sound combined with his hardening length pressing against you through the thick fabric of his sweatpants makes you feel like you could live in this moment forever.

You can feel your growing arousal spilling from you, the wetness making the fabric of your underwear stick to your skin, and at the feeling of him suddenly bumping gently against your clit makes you squeak as you hips begin meeting his thrusts with their own.

“Please,” you whimper out when his mouth latches onto the skin stretched over your jugular, “want it. Need you.”

“I’m gonna keep you up all night,” he growls the promise against your neck, “I have so much time to make up for.”

He sits up, a smile of pride on his face when you huff at the loss of him. You only get a few sounds of discontent out before his hands are grabbing at the fabric of your shorts, and shoving them down your legs, your ruined underwear following. The fabric is tossed behind his shoulder, and in his impatience, his hands are rough as they grab at your thighs. He pulls you, bringing you down the bed to be closer to him, before he’s pushing his own pants down to bunch at his hips, his tip brushing against you and making you jump as he slaps against his stomach.

You squirm as he returns to his place flush against you, both at the sudden feeling of the room’s air hitting your damp skin and the way his length glides against you. You can feel your arousal smearing against him, and in your desperation, you’re grabbing his face and pulling back down to meet your lips again.

Laying there, pressed as tightly together as you can be with your mouths devouring the other’s, you feel him reach between your bodies. His fingers only take a moment to dip into you, gathering your wetness on his fingers, before he’s using it to coat his length more than it already is.

He pulls at himself a few times, the moans he lets out at the friction being swallowed by you, before he’s pressing into you without warning.

The stretch and the idea of your best friend being the one that is so suddenly fucking into you has you reeling. You feel overtaken by the feeling of whiplash, and as he pushes into you inch by inch, you let out a moan that lived deep in your belly.

He pauses when he’s fully inside of you, the depth that he reaches as the girth of him making your eyes begin to roll wildly and before you can catch your breath his hips are retreating.

His pace is rough. He’s slow, and he doesn’t pull but a few inches out, but every time he returns to your body, it's a harsh thrust that knocks the air from your lungs.

It’s not long before you feel overwhelmed, the way the cozy heat from the candles and the thick fabric of his clothes as they brush against you licks at your skin and sinks you into the mattress. His mouth refuses to separate from yours, and his thrusts are consistent and unrelenting.

You’re sure you’ve never felt more held in your life as your wrapped up with your best friend, one of his hands moving to hold the side of your face while the other travels down to play with the sensitive nerves of your clit. The gentle way his hands move against you contrasted by the rough way he fucks into you has you clinging desperately to his hoodie as warm tears well up in your eyes.

One of your hands moves down as you get closer, your nails digging into the fabric that covers his ass as you desperately try to pull him closer than he already was. This and the way your hips start bucking against him makes him groan as you two get tangled in your sheets.

You feel the tingling warning of your orgasm running up your spine, a crackling moan feeding into his mouth from yours and the way you softly clench around him being his only warning before you come with a cry.

His hips stutter as he follows quickly behind, a very similar sound of bliss slipping from his mouth as you two begin to shake against each other.

You feel like you’ve been sewn into his skin as you twitch together with aftershocks, him equally as unwilling to separate his body from yours. Once he pulls his hand from between your bodies, his arms wrap tightly around your waist, and he pulls you tightly into his chest as he lays his full weight on you, and you legs wrap around him as you refuse to let him slip out of you.

“We’re going again in a minute,” his voice rasps as he presses his face into your shoulder, his nose nuzzling against the skin.

“Really?” You ask with a laugh as your hands return to their job of running through his hair.

“Yes I just need a minute,” he promises, and you shiver as his hips start to shift already without him even thinking, “it’s what your cards would have wanted.”

#nct smut #haechan smut #donghyuck smut #nct imagine #haechan imagines #kpop smut

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workingforitallthetime · 4 years

Text

svech: a very serious and responsible primer

ok @totally-necessary and @needsmore, i am gonna write you an andrei svechnikov primer and i am going to do my best to produce a work of responsible well-sourced expository prose instead of an embarrassing thirsty disaster like the rest of my andrei svechnikov blogging.

here is my introductory paragraph:

wait, no, give me another shot. i swear i can actually do this. here is my introductory paragraph:

HOW CAN I NOT LOVE THIS GOOD-NATURED FEARLESS JOYFUL SHOULDER-FRECKLED SEX KITTEN????? HOW CAN I DO ANYTHING BUT CRY ALL THE TIME?????

.......ok. sorry. let me try it again. i’ll do it right this time, i promise. here is my introductory paragraph:

once upon a time in siberia, two-year-old andrei svechnikov put on skates for the first time and cried because he couldn’t follow his big brother evgeny onto the ice. eventually evgeny’s coach let andrei join the team’s workouts, and then coach started giving the older players a hard time when andrei would beat them.

the backstory of the svech bros sounds a lot like every other hockey kid who didn’t grow up privileged: parents who worked multiple jobs and sacrificed and moved cities to make sure the kids got hockey opportunities. in interviews, the svechnikov brothers have referenced not knowing where food or clothes were going to come from, and they emphasize how close it made them. evgeny says:

Having a brother that we eat from one plate--sleep in one bed sometimes--we went through everything. It's just one person by your side always. It's like going hunting alone or with somebody.

they wear the same number. they talk every day. as soon as the season paused in march, evgeny drove to north carolina. lately, they’re hanging out in michigan. basically, if hockey is not being played, they are together. basically, if you are going to write a primer about andrei, the most important thing is evgeny.

(my theory is that evgeny is at least part of the reason andrei does not like it when dougie and foegs joke about him being their kid brother. it’s the only joke i’ve ever seen svech refuse to roll with.)

evgeny got drafted by the red wings in 2015 (round 1, 19th overall). he started out with the AHL affiliate in grand rapids, and in 2016 mama svech packed up andrei and moved from russia to michigan. andrei played a season for the muskegon lumberjacks in the USHL. he led the team in scoring and was named USHL rookie of the year. the next season he was the first selection in the CHL import draft, and played for the barrie colts.

ok, so while we’re knocking out the backstory, i want to note that svech’s full name is Andrei Igorevich Svechnikov. don’t tell me that’s not sexy.

furthermore, the very spelling of andrei is sexy. i had a russian-speaking colleague once who had a son named andrei and she would say his name with a little lift at the end. not like the i added another syllable, just like a little caress. i hear it that way when i type it. it makes me happy to type that i at the end. andrei. andrei.

oh sorry, did i veer off topic?

the carolina hurricanes selected andrei second overall in the 2018 draft. he looked just as dumb as everybody always does in their draft night jersey photos, but here’s his draft day suit:

oh wait, can’t pass up the opportunity for a combine photo

did i say COMBINE? i meant JAWLINE

wait one more photo from the combine, just because he looks especially dead poets society in this one:

upon moving to raleigh, andrei emphatically wanted to live alone, which seems unusual for an 18-year-old entering the NHL and is therefore fertile ground for all sorts of headcanons. he keeps his floors very clean and gets mad when his buddies won’t take their shoes off. i am not making this up. he lives in the same apartment complex as dougie hamilton, warren foegele, joel edmundson (rip), and teuvo teravainen. andrei does not cook and he’s constantly calling them to see who wants to go out to eat.

in that last video i linked you can see foegs stumble and jump off his scooter just before he hits the gate to their parking garage. then the gate rises like magic and svech glides straight through. this is an unsubtle metaphor for andrei svechnikov’s entire athletic existence.

svech purportedly does not play video games, which is wild to me. instead, he practices magic tricks. again, i am not making this up.

wait i’m sorry it’s been at least ten minutes since i looked at a picture of andrei svechnikov holding a bunch of kittens

ok where was i.

svech had a pretty solid rookie season in 2018-19, but you can look up the numbers elsewhere if you want them. he was the first player born this century to score in the NHL but we don’t like to think about his 2000 birthdate. he played on a line with jordan martinook for a lot of that first season, and you can read more about that romantic nonsense in the ship primer i’ll be writing next. more recently the canes have settled into a top line of svech, sebastian aho, and teuvo teravainen, which is a pretty deadly combo.

one incident of note from svech’s rookie season is that he got knocked the fuck out by alex ovechkin. we’ll be talking more about that in the ship primer too, but if you want the video it’s here.

here, have a little celly:

svech’s most touted accomplishment is scoring the NHL’s first-ever Michigan-style lacrosse goal. this article has a very good description of how it worked. the postgame interview from that game is so endearing it makes me want to claw my face off. he’s talking so fast (for him) and he keeps repeating that his brother taught it to him, just absolutely determined to make sure everyone knows this milestone belongs to evgeny too.

also, this season, he scored the first playoff hat trick in franchise history.

the thing about andrei svechnikov is that nobody has a bad word to say about him. everybody thinks he’s an amazing player (”skilled and tenacious yet loose and creative”) and everybody compliments his work ethic (shooting pucks for hours after practice or a game) and journalists call him a “transcendent star.” everybody says he’s a great person. everybody calls him special. jordan martinook says svech never has a bad word to say about anyone.

ok it’s kitten time again!

more svech facts of note:

drives a black mercedes, poorly. “he wants to win on the road, too,” says foegs.

his voice gets very soft when he is uncertain about something but he’s loud when he wins a card game. (”GOOD NIGHT, BROTHER! SEE YOU NEXT GAME!”)

loves french toast for breakfast.

guilty pleasure is milkshakes.

if he was an animal, he’d be a bear (”like a russian bear.”)

does monster summer workouts with ivan provorov

look how fucking cute he is

the invaluable social media team over at hurricanes hq understands the svech content the world needs. i’m gonna tackle some more of this in the ship primer, but here are the best ones:

who’s your daddy? this video features svech confusedly asking “daddy?”, which is literally everything i ever want in fic or in life. once he finally understands he’s expected to choose between two teammates, he chooses the one who’s his buddy. and then after he’s catcalled from offscreen, he slouches down in his chair and changes his answer. “both,” he mutters, looking unbearably smug. “both.”

cookie face. it takes marty a very entertaining 49 seconds to eat the cookie. then svech hacks the game and wins in 7 second flat. “he’s good at everything,” marty marvels from offscreen.

this is a terrible concept for a video but it does feature svech and dougie doing the famous scene from stepbrothers, and svech giving a sweeping bow. i will forgive him for wearing a duke hat but only because he wears a tarheels hat in the three amigos video above.

has it been too long since a kitten photo? it’s definitely been too long since a kitten photo.

in conclusion, andrei svechnikov is a massive life-ruining problem and also he is perfect. i love him.

#whew #svech primer #hawk fic

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leapyearkisses · 3 years

Note

For the director's cut: Could you do Nice Work If You Can Get It? (Eliseo/Padgett)

That fic... Changed me. I'll never forget it TBH.

Yes, I'd be happy to! This one was really fun to write, and it was the beginning of two OCs I am very fond of now (and who I am happy to know made an impression on quite a few people!).

(If anyone enjoys this director's cut thing and wants to see one for another of my stories, ask away. I had a lot of fun!)

Commentary in bold below the cut! NSFW, mess, deliberately sneezing on people, m/m

This story started from a prompt about one character hiring someone to get them sick. An intriguing idea!! But it was one I actually struggled with finding a groove for when I started out. I actually started a few different scenarios with different character dynamics before I figured this one out. I have a 2600-word WIP of a different version of this in my "unfinished" folder.

"All right... close your eyes." Eliseo swallowed and did so, blocking out his bedroom, the red-gold sunset light pouring in from the windows, and Padgett, who was straddling his hips. He could still hear, quite easily, the other man's labored breathing and feel the heat of his thighs... and his crotch. Eliseo was under no illusion that he was in an incredibly compromising position at the moment. He hadn't thought much about the.. particulars when he'd first decided to strike this deal. "Are we really doing this?" he asked, voice weak.

I can't really write fetish porn without including actual porn lol, so from the beginning it was sexy even without the snz. In this version, the POV character is Eliseo, who is the "naive" character in a way. I pretty much write pairs where one character has the fetish and their partner does not but is indulgent. The one with the fetish is usually embarrassed about it or somehow naively realizing they like this weird-ass thing. Padgett laughed, voice tumbled and edging on hoarse. "Hey now. Not getting cold feet are we, my lord?" His exhale ghosted over Eliseo's forehead and his tousled black hair touched Eliseo's cheek.

Padgett is the confident character, and he brought the humor to this scenario! Eliseo cleared his throat. "No..." He could imagine the other man's smug look. They'd known each other long enough now that the image rose unbidden to his mind's eye. Padgett's eyes always glittered like opals when he was scheming something. Padgett surprised him with a tender touch on the shoulder, and he almost opened his eyes again. "The safe word is 'pumpernickel,'" he said, managing not to chuckle. "We can stop whenever you want... Hhk-" He fought off a gasp. "Decide hh quickly, though." Eliseo shivered. "I'm okay. Let's do it." He didn't want to admit it, but Padgett's reassurance did put him at ease, even if this had been his idea. He relaxed and tried to lose himself in the late afternoon heat. "Yehh-s, my lord." Padgett leaned forward and took a shaky breath. It stuttered and caught on invisible hooks, sounding at once to be full of potential and then gone again, like a ghost at the window. Eliseo could feel his body tightening again with anticipation, especially when Padgett gasped and leaned back. "Hh-... hah--

"A ghost in the window" eehhh this is kind of overworked. I like to write descriptively even when it isn't necessary. "Huh-ktschht!" A warm rush of air burst in Eliseo's face, almost immediately followed by a watery spray over his forehead, closed eyes, and nose. His instant reaction was to curl back, or try to, and he had his hands braced on Padgett's chest before he could think about it.

I had never written anything quite this scandalous as it were. There hadn't been a lot of snzfic I had read where there was direct, purposeful contagion like this or quite so much mess description directly on the skin, the face even. So I was sweating while writing this lol. "Hey now," said Padgett, delayed by a sniffle. His tone was light. "Easy. You specified this in the contract, remember?" He rested his hands lightly on Eliseo's wrists. "How are you feeling about it?"

CONSENT IS THE SEXIEST THING. We get this instinctual edge of revulsion from Eliseo because he has not acknowledged to himself that he likes snz yet and also he has never allowed anyone to do this to him before because why would anyone do this? Eliseo found he was holding his breath, but- Well, that would defeat the purpose of this exercise. He cautiously let it go and then opened his eyes. Padgett was gazing down at him, looking neither smug nor concerned, just curious. "I- this was on instinct," Eliseo murmured. After a beat, he lowered his hands, and Padgett let him go easily. "Yes, I imagine so. It's natural." Padgett smiled then, and then his expression crinkled. "Wh- hh- want to do it again? Hkt-- hhh..." Eliseo forced himself to surrender again to his pillows. "Yes." Again, he closed his eyes. Padgett shifted forward on his lap and oh- but then he was sneezing one more. "Huh- hktsschit!" Again, the spray. This time it dusted over Eliseo's nose and mouth. He fought to keep from thinning his lips and... took a deeper breath. Padgett hadn't moved, was still fighting with his own lungs, reeling in another insistent sneeze like a stubborn trout. "Huh- hh... hh hh huh-" He made an annoyed sound. "Hah-- hah-krttschtts!" Eliseo felt droplets of saliva decorate his cheekbone. Padgett sniffled thickly.

I think artists often point out how funny it is that when they're drawing they mimic the face of the character. I do this with sneeze sounds (IF I'M ALONE). I tend to like softer sounds for my characters, so a lot of sibilance creeps in. "...Bless you," Eliseo murmured. He was feeling hot. Maybe it was Padgett on top of him. The man was running a fever. "You are... doing the job admirably." That earned him a laugh. Padgett shifted his weight to his heels, which did interesting things to his cock's relation to Eliseo's own. "Thanks, I guess? I never would have thought anyone would be hiring for this, much less you." "Circumstances are dire," Eliseo intoned without a hint of irony.

Eliseo is a card. I love him. Of the two of them he is much more my preferred "type." He is similar to my mage character Llewellyn but less fussy. "Mmhm." Padgett sniffled again. "You must really hate weddings. Couldn't you have just gone on a hunt or something this weekend instead?" Eliseo sighed. "No. My sister would do anything to ruin my plans if I tried to avoid the party any normal way. But luckily, she's terrified of germs. I think a miserable head cold will be the ticket." Like hell he wanted to sit through another of his sister's weddings. Every time it was some new, world-changing drama. He wasn't even sure whether the groom this time was noble born. No doubt the reception gossip would be scathing. What absolute drivel.

There's a little "my lord" up there before, but this is kind of where the setting is characterized - Eliseo is a noble and this is a time and place where nobility matters. However, it's also anachronistic, because germ theory is a thing. They're kind of in a pseudo Regency/Victorian world where I just write whatever feels like the most fun. "Lucky also that you have me around, hm?" Padgett's next chuckle turned into a bit of a cough. Eliseo patted his knee awkwardly. "I- well, yes. Very. But believe me when I say that I would not wish for you to be so stricken if I had the power to stop it."

People with shitty immune systems are my jam. Even if it's really unlikely, I love it. Sometimes especially if it's unlikely. Like mister high elf Llewellyn, or if they're a god or angel or something. Or in a world where if you had that bad of an immune system you probably would have died of diphtheria or pneumonia by now. "Of course, my lord." Padgett rubbed his nose. And though his breath hitched a few times in the following moments, he stayed where he was. Eliseo blinked. "Are we...?" Done? He didn't really think the exposure had been long enough. "I am ready." Padgett blushed a little. Blushed? "Sorry," he said. "I can kind of feel that, uh, the uh, next ones are going to be kind of... wet. I could blow my nose." His voice trailed off, wavering again. His nostrils twitched, and Eliseo did see within the promise of moisture. Perhaps it was the taboo of it, but Eliseo was alerted instantly to a sudden thickening of his cock. It pressed at his trousers with some gusto as Padgett sniffled again. Eliseo swallowed. "No. No, this is good. This will... help."

After consent, MESS is the sexiest thing. That's just how it goes. I don't make the rules. Padgett gave him a considering look, at least as well as he could between soft gasps and squinting against the itch in his nose. "If you're sure, my lord." "Just- call me Eli, like you used to," said Eliseo, stumbling over the words. He wasn't sure where they had come from, but now they were bare between them. Still, perhaps a bit of affection wasn't so odd compared to what they were already doing. Eliseo closed his eyes on Padgett's startled look.

I wasn't sure where this came from either. But suddenly they were in love and I was cool with it. Eli btw is pronounced like the name (Ee-lye) but Eliseo is pronounced Ell-ee-zay-oh in my mind. It's of Latin origin and means "God is my salvation" according to that authority Babynames.com lol. Padgett means "attendant" so that was chosen partially because he's Eliseo's employee but also because Padgett is just a SUPER English-sounding name. I really enjoy looking up name meanings and representing different traditions in my characters. I tried to give Eliseo's family members Latin names, too, although they're not mentioned here. "Eli," Padgett said, and he sounded like he'd just come home from a long war to find the hearth kept warm for him. "I will." He leaned forward again, bracing himself. "Now, I'm going to- to hih-- to snhhsneeze, hah-- haktschtsch! Hrh- Hnkgstschhiu! More spray this time, more wetness, and Eliseo gasped himself when he felt a thick drip against his chin. Padgett hadn't moved. When Eliseo tentatively looked up, he saw his friend caught in a limbo of urgency. His green eyes were shut, eyelashes fluttering. His nostrils, gently pink now, flared. A clear trail hung from one of them, quivering as Padgett panted. He looked wild and fever bright and teetering on a precipice. Eliseo ignored what it might mean that Padgett's desperate expression, his wet nose - even the mess - suddenly went to his cock. He was hard, looking up at a portrait of a sneeze.

Sometimes you just have to stop writing for a second and drink some cold water or something. Carefully, he placed a hand on Padgett's thigh. "It's okay," he said, words coming of their own accord. "I've got you." Padgett's fingers tightened fitfully in the sheet as he shifted his weight again. He was making soft, irritated noises. His nostrils flared and Eliseo saw another drip lying in wait on the cusp.

Fingers tightening fitfully in a sheet is a thing I love to describe. If you binge-read everything I've written, you will find that I write snz and sex in a very particular way over and over. Because that's what I like! And I'm super glad readers like it as well! But I can basically only find the motivation to write what I enjoy (when I write at all... .__.), which is why I only write m/m or nb characters and such. When the urge became too much, it was like watching a wave finally crash down. Padgett's breath caught; he tensed and leaned back. Eliseo hurriedly closed his eyes again, and none too soon. "Hhhhrektschuckh!" He felt the mess streak his face, fly to spatter his mouth and nose and chin. Padgett moaned and then gasped again, chest swelling with air.

SCANDALOUS "Hah- Huhrttschuh! Hshtt! Hah- hsshtt!" Again, he teetered, teasing the air with shivering gasps. Then, he abruptly folded with a crush of vowels and congestion. "Hggtschiucht!" A baptism, pondered Eliseo's brain as it detached from reality momentarily. Pinned as he was to the bed by Padgett's sex, he couldn't move when he felt himself coming just as abruptly as the sneeze. Somehow the slick wash had become a mounting sense of urgency in each of his muscles, racing from his fingertips and toes to his abdomen, where, quite unbidden, his cock had tugged all that energy into a gut-wrenching orgasm that sent the shockwaves back out with renewed vigor. Padgett whined, and Eliseo took him firmly by the shoulders and drew him in for a messy, off-putting, contagious, blindingly good kiss. "Wow," said Padgett, when they finally broke for air.

Wow, lol. I have a great imagination. I wish I could make myself write more often. "Don't ask me why," Eliseo muttered, but he refused to be made a fool of by embarrassment. "C- come here." He shifted to sit up further and put his hands on Padgett's hips. "I want-" He wanted. "This. Yes?" Before he could stop himself, he swept his tongue over Padgett's mouth, under his nose, to rest at the edge of a nostril. He tasted salt. It was not entirely pleasant, but whatever pilot was captaining his body right now didn't care. He could still feel his cock pulsing against his trousers.

Also the first time I wrote anything like this, but Eliseo was like go big or go home, so. Padgett moaned. "It feels... odd. But, my lord, you can do what you- I mean, Eli." He was breathless for different reasons now. Eliseo laved the tender skin above Padgett's lips, then licked up his septum. When Padgett shivered, Eliseo kissed him again. Slowly, he cleaned away the mess from Padgett's face. When he was finished, neither of them knew what to say. Eliseo was hard again.

Huahaha Eliseo can have an unrealistic refractory period. I don't really give a shit how accurate this stuff is when it would get in the way of the enjoyment. Not to the point where people are just going in without lube or something crazy like that, but being willing and able to go again is just sexy, so that's fine. Finally, Padgett laughed shyly. "I think you'll be catching your cold, Eli." Eliseo blushed and shrugged. "I should hope so. I am-" He bit his lip. "I'm not ready to stop. Will you stay the night? I'll look after you." Padgett kissed him, tenderly drawing them together. "I would like that, very much."

And then they DEFINITELY banged. I hadn't conceptualized their specific history together at this point, but Eliseo and Padgett were FWB while younger, so the "surprise" at meeting again like this in a sexy fashion is more like "Oh, are we doing this now, as adults with drastically different social standing?" and less "Hey, are you into me??"

I got more than one request to write the direct sequel to this, but I dunno. I usually prefer one character in the pair to be the one who is sneezing, and writing Eliseo sick isn't as fun. Partially because I'm much, MUCH more interested in the shy/embarrassed/"voyeur" dynamic, so someone who gets off on their own sneezes really does nothing for me. I do have a WIP of Eliseo sick that is a direct sequel to Carriage Shenanigans, but I have no idea if it will ever get finished.

Thanks so much for the request for this very fun exercise!

#lyk writes #snz #eliseo jorvald #padgett foxborough #elipadge #director's cut commentary exercise

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foxymoxynoona · 4 years

Text

Amended Ch. 2

Read Chapter 1 here

SUMMARY: Getting into a bar fight is the least surprising part of Isabella's return home. She sure doesn't expect to run into her childhood friend turned high school enemy, now not just surprisingly a law-abiding citizen but a police officer. Things seem to be going great for him, but Isabella is struggling with more than a bar fight. A single mom with a sick grandmother, an alcoholic mother, an abusive ex, and a short fuse herself, matters are not helped that Jungkook seems to be everywhere. All the time. Especially every time Isabella messes up. Can she really believe him when he says he just wants to help?

Police officer! Jungkook x Single Mom Childhood Friend Named OC

CW: abusive parents, alcoholism, abusive exes, descriptions of childhood abuse, domestic violence, sexual abuse, illegal acts, side character death, discussions/references to underage sexual activity/alcohol use/drug use, teen pregnancy, explicit sexual content

Also hosted on AO3 under foxymoxy. Not sure if I’ll keep posting on tumblr or not, but I thought I’d try it out!

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The morning had not been going well. At all.

The kids had overslept.

Ok, maybe Isabella had overslept too.

Grandma had not overslept but had been in a bit of a mental fog, so Isabella had plied her with bananas and water as suggested by the nurses, while running around frantically to get the kids’ things pulled together. While they dawdled, of course, as if they had nowhere in the world to be. They couldn’t find their socks. They didn’t want frozen waffles for breakfast. They didn’t want to go to their first days of school, they wanted to just watch cartoons while Isabella struggled to be a morning person like most days.

But she’d done it, she got them dressed and fed and out the door, only having to double back for forgotten bags once. And while it was a whirlwind drop off at two different schools, she made it, and made it home just as Grandma was finishing her morning coffee and ready for a lift to her bible study, and just in time to shower to get dressed for her first day of work.

Except she’d underestimated how far the bible study was, and realized as soon as Grandma was shuffled inside that she was going to be late. For her first day of work. So she booked it into high gear…

And it landed her here. Pulled over to the side of the road with the cop car lights flashing through the back windshield. She let out an angry groan and let her head rest against the steering wheel. Now she would definitely be late.

A knock on her window got her to look up, only to huff, “You have got to be fucking kidding me.” She cranked her window down, actions snappish and pissy, as Jungkook waited with raised eyebrows and a narrow stare.

“Isabella.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” she sighed again, in case he hadn’t heard her earlier.

“That’s my question,” he said. “Do you have any idea how fast you were going, ma’am?”

“Thirty.”

“Bullshit,” he snorted.

“Do you know how fast I was going?”

He glared and answered, “Fifty-four in a thirty.”

“Not me, officer.”

“Isabella--”

“I’d like to see your radar gun readout and a clear photo of--”

“Isabella,” he sighed and made an exasperated noise.

“There was another car going much faster than me, probably you picked that one up.”

“Used to arguing your way out of tickets, huh?”

“I doubt the other way out of tickets would work with you.”

“Oh? And what would that be? Maybe… not speeding and earning them in the first place?” he suggested. And he just looked so fucking smug.

She gave him an equally smug grin and prompted, “Radar read out and dashboard cam, please.”

“License and registration, please.”

“Jungkook,” she grunted. “I’m late for work. It’s my first day.”

“Work, huh? Where’s that.”

“Target. Ever been? There’s a pharmacy, they have vaseline that could help you get that stick out of your--”

He sighed and rested his hands on the window frame, “Isabella. Why are you antagonizing me? I’m a cop. You’re speeding.”

“You are a cop, but I was not speeding.”

“Goddamn you are as infuriating as you were in high school.”

“Look,” she sighed, deciding to try a different tactic. “Fine, you want to try the other way? There’s a gas station up ahead, behind the dumpster there aren’t cameras. My backseat has a kid booster but you can probably turn your car cam off, right?”

“Jesus Christ,” he groaned, pushing away from her car and scratching at his hair. “Can you stop trying to bribe your way out of a ticket?!”

“Oh. So you admit that sounds like an appealing bribe? I just meant it as a friendly offer but--”

“Ok, look. I’m going to let you off with a warning this one time. Do you hear me?”

Isabella bit her tongue so as not to point out that she vaguely thought she recalled him telling her the other night it was her one warning. Instead she made her eyes very big and nodded.

“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir. Officer, sir.”

“Just because if I give you a ticket I have to stand here and deal with you for fifteen more minutes.”

“I am so grateful--”

“But look, slow down, ok? You’re going to hit someone and this tin can you’re driving isn’t going to protect you. You can’t show up here and just break the law when you feel like it.”

She bit her tongue so hard it hurt. That was rich, real rich coming from a delinquent she’d covered for plenty of times. Probably he knew that, because he arched his eyebrow and waited, as if to see if she could resist. She lifted her chin and set her jaw and held it in. He watched her a moment longer.

“Have a nice day, ma’am. Take it easy.” He patted the roof of her car like a true and genuine police asshole, and sauntered back to his vehicle. Isabella cranked up her window.

“You fucker, you definitely didn’t actually have me on radar and how dare you preach at me about--”

The siren blipped once, cutting off her monologue. She glared at him through the rearview mirror and quickly pulled away, waiting until she’d lost him behind a turn to take off again, in an attempt to make up for lost time and not lose her job on the first fucking day.

It wasn’t until she parked she realized she’d forgotten to take her wallet out of one of the kids’ backpacks before dropping them off.

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

Isabella’s legs hurt. Her back hurt. Her head hurt. She was too tired for this. She kept glancing at the clock, but there were hours left in her shift still. Ezra and Lily would have arrived at afterschool care by now. The nurse would have picked up Grandma from bible study long ago. Everyone was fine. But she was tired and desperate for coffee and didn’t have a break coming up any time soon.

She plastered on a smile, ringing up the woman in her line, but the woman was on her phone and not paying attention anyway so she let it slide away. The woman bought razors, deodorant, several bottles of wine, a carton of Goldfish, and a box of tampons. Isabella rang everything up, turned the bags on the carousel so the woman could loop them over the hand holding her car keys, and held the receipt out.

“Have a nice day,” she said.

“Uh huh,” the woman nodded and walked away, flicking her hand a little like Isabella was a gnat.

She hadn’t looked at the next person in line yet, just reached for the bag of shrimp chips and then immediately froze.

“Are you fucking--” She looked up as she spoke, knowing instinctively it was Jungkook, but trailed off upon finding him holding a little girl. He raised his eyes and gave her a crooked grin.

“What was that?” he asked. The little girl stared at her with similar wide eyes.

“Uh… are you following me?” she asked, deciding to ignore his look. “I told you where I work. Are you checking up on me?!”

He gave her a teasing glare, “Are you always this paranoid?” She rolled her eyes. “You didn’t card that woman.”

“Oh my god, are you kidding me right now? She was clearly over 21.”

“I don’t know,” he tsked, looking after the woman. “White people, it’s hard to tell your ages.”

Isabella licked her lips in annoyance to keep from saying worse, and then smiled at the little girl, “Your dad is a real charmer, huh?”

The girl’s face instantly screwed up and she argued, “He’s not my dad, he’s my uncle!”

“Ah. Oh!” Before she could even ask, Jungkook’s older sister set one final thing on the belt, then did a double take.

“Isabella!” she greeted. “Hello!”

“Um, hi Youngsoon.” Isabella immediately blushed. Youngsoon was even more beautiful than she’d been as a young adult. Youngsoon had always been so beautiful and cool. Isabella had spent a lot of years lamenting she couldn’t be a beautiful Korean woman like her, certain Jungkook’s older sister belonged in the movies. Embarrassed, she quickly began scanning items.

“Jungkook didn’t mention you were back in town. How are you?”

“I’m well,” she answered reflexively, only glancing up. She did not appreciate the smug grin Jungkook still had. What did he have to be smug about? She glared at him.

“She thought Uncle Gukka was my dad,” the little girl giggled, flinging her arms around Uncle Gukka’s neck.

“Yuck,” Jungkook teased, scrunching her face up at her. To be fair, the little girl was clearly a Jeon. But it made sense that she was a baby Youngsoon; she was beautiful, just like her mother, not goobery like Jungkook… well, like he had been when they were younger, anyway...

“Sora, this woman is an old friend of Uncle Gukka’s,” Youngsoon said with a smile. “She was Uncle Gukka’s very first friend in America.”

“Your first friend was a girl?” Sora asked with surprise.

Jungkook gave her a serious look and said, “I didn’t know it at the time.”

“Hey,” Isabella glared. But she didn’t stop scanning items, in a hurry to finish up so they could go away. She was very nervous now having Jungkook and Youngsoon both here. Jungkook she didn’t mind aggravating but seeing Youngsoon left her feeling… insignificant.

But Youngsoon, perfectly at ease chatting, continued, “Have you moved back permanently?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “We’re here with my grandmother right now. I just-- it was easy to transfer to the store since I already work at Target, so I’m just picking up some shifts…” God, it was mortifying. Mortifying. Not only was she standing there scanning their items in her stupid khakis and red polo shirt, but talking about picking up shifts… Youngsoon had been in medical school back then. And now Jungkook was a cop.

“We?”

“Oh, um… me and my children.”

“Oh! How old are you children?” Youngsoon continued. “I have two --Sora here is--”

“I’m five,” Sora announced.

“Five,” Youngsoon finished with a fond smile. “And I have a two year old boy.” The last item had been rung up and placed in the bag and Isabella had succeeded in not looking at Jungkook for several minutes now; even when Sora had spoken and she’d reflexively look at the little girl, she’d managed to blur his face from view. Gukka’s very first friend in America. What a silly thing to mention. Pokemon. They’d bonded over fucking Pokemon.

But Youngsoon looked at her expectantly and Isabella had always admired her so much and found herself admitting, “I have two. Eight and four.”

“Oh, are they in school? Or will you not be here that long?”

“Yeah, I-- they started school today actually. Since I don’t know how long we’ll be here, I didn’t want them to miss out.”

“Is your younger one in kindergarten?”

“No, Pre-K still but through public school.”

“It was their first day today?” Jungkook asked, tricking her into looking at him. She gave a nod and turned to push the button on the screen as Youngsoon pulled out her wallet to pay. She tried not to sulk but thought that might be why he snorted and then sighed, “You shouldn’t have been speeding.”

“It’s my first day of work too and I was going maybe three over--”

“Twenty-four over,” he clarified.

“Show me the radar receipt.”

He let out an exasperated sigh, “I let you off with a warning, didn’t I?”

“Yeah because I said--”

“Not because of anything you said,” he corrected instantly, giving her a wide-eyed and pointed stare.

“--you wanted me to shut up,” she grinned cheekily, grabbing the receipt as it printed out.

Youngsoon gave her a gentle smile though, because she’d always been kind, and assured her, “Mornings are hard. Sorry it sounds like a tough one.” She took the receipt. “I’m really glad to run into you though. We should get our kids together for a play date! Sora and your youngest are so close in age.”

“Oh. Um…” She hadn’t expected that. Why would she suggest that? She’d hurried so Youngsoon could finish being polite and leave.

“Let me give you my number,” she said instead, digging around in her wallet and then pulling out a business card. “You can text or call my cell that’s listed there.”

“Ok. Um, thanks, sure. Things are a little busy right now but--”

Jungkook snickered and made a face at his sister, “Soona, she doesn’t want to bring her kids around.”

“My kids are wonderful,” Isabella defended hotly, feeling anger charge through her body. Her cheeks flushed with it. It surprised him, he didn’t hide that from his face.

“Uh, I-- I didn’t mean it like that,” he assured her. He shifted Sora to his other arm and scratched his cheek.

Sora seemed oblivious to the awkward exchange as she asked Isabella, “Do you have a boy or a girl?”

“I have one of each. My daughter is the one close to your age.”

“Does she like princesses or cars or both?” Sora asked. Youngsoon laughed gently and pressed her hand to Jungkook’s arm to nudge them along, but motioned to the business card in Isabella’s hand.

“Do call or text.”

“Ok. Yeah. I will.”

Jungkook didn’t say anything more, even goodbye. He’d picked up both bags though after dumping Sora to the ground; she took her mother’s hand and waved to Isabella as the three of them left the store.

Isabella’s cheeks blazed as she turned her attention to the next customer, an older woman who looked vaguely familiar but didn’t seem to recognize Isabella. That was good. She hadn’t thought about how many people she’d see at Target, she’d just been thinking about the ease of picking up shifts and making money because she needed to.

Embarrassed, she tossed the business card in the trash under her till.

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

Isabella stretched out on the couch next to Grandma once the kids were in bed a half hour later than she had wanted. That wasn’t too bad. The house felt strangely silent without their voices and pounding footsteps rattling the walls, but it was nice to be able to let out her breath and relax and not try to look like a Responsible Adult.

Grandma hummed happily and laced her fingers into Isabella’s hair, holding her tea mug in the other hand.

“That better be decaf,” Isabella warned.

“My, you’re a bossy little thing,” Grandma chuckled.

“I just don’t want you having caffeine nightmares, and you’re barely sleeping as it is--”

“Yes, yes, I know. Nothing but sleepy herbs in this. Would you like some?”

“I’m so wiped, I won’t need any help falling asleep.”

“Go to bed now.”

“Nah, I’ll sit up with you a little longer,” Isabella insisted and sat up, certain the way her grandmother stroked her hair would put her to sleep otherwise. She’d gone so many years without getting to sit with her grandma like this, she wouldn’t trade it for a little extra sleep now that she could.

“Well I heard all about the first day of school from the children at dinner, but how was your first day of work?”

Isabella shrugged, “It’s just Target. It’s the same everywhere you go-- hey, you know who I keep running into?”

“Who?”

“Jungkook. Do you remember him?”

“Of course I remember him.”

“Did you know he’s a cop now?”

“Yes, I knew,” her grandmother confirmed, smiling and nodding. “Why is that so surprising? He’s a sweet boy.”

“Uh, he was sweet when we were eleven. Then he became a raging asshole…”

“Bella,” Grandma scolded, giving her a look about her language.

“Grandma, he was a troublemaker in high school. What the hell made him become a cop? He hated cops! He never showed the slightest interest in becoming a cop and now suddenly he’s lecturing me about…” She trailed off, not wanting to admit to her grandmother about what she’d been up to and realizing she almost had.

Grandma gave her a coyly arched eyebrow and pressed, “About what, my darling granddaughter?”

“Nothing.”

“Maybe the fight you had last Thursday--”

“Grandmaaa,” Isabella sighed. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“I’m sure you don’t! But I know what a hangover is, my dear, and I don’t think you were using make up to cover bites from an amorous lover--”

“Grandma!” This time she broke off with a laugh and gave her grandmother a gentle, playful shove. “What do you know about amorous bites?”

“Oh, to be young and think you know everything--”

“I’m not young, I’m old,” Isabella sighed and let her head drop to her grandmother’s shoulder. “I stopped being young when I was fourteen. I just have a hard time believing Jungkook grew up enough to be a cop. He still seems like a smarmy asssss...” She’d tried to change the word to something else and couldn’t think of anything on the spot, just dragged the s out awkwardly long.

“Nonsense. Being a cop doesn’t mean you grew up, it just means you passed some tests and they gave you a badge and a gun.”

“Oof. Careful, Grandma! That sounds remarkably progressive. What will the old ladies in your bible study group say? How dare you flaunt authority?”

Grandma laughed and admitted, “Perhaps it is a little tough when you find yourself so much older than authority.”

“I bet he can’t even grow a beard yet.”

“He tried, briefly, a few years ago,” Grandma admitted, grinning when Isabella giggled. “You’re still very young too, sweetheart, you just grew up fast. But someday you’ll look back in disbelief of how young you still were right now, thinking like that.”

“Don’t talk cryptically, Grandma. You’ll make me panic.”

“No, no, I won’t die on you tonight,” the older woman teased, earning a glare from Isabella. “I just find your disbelief he grew up and started a career is amusing. You grew up and got a career and have two children!”

“I hardly think working at Target counts as a career. I’m not even a manager.”

“You could be!”

“No,” Isabella sighed. “I can’t be. I take too many sick days. I mean honestly I was probably about to get fired at my store in New York. It’s a blessing you wanted me to come home. Don’t think for a second I did it for you.”

Grandma grinned, “Oh yes, of course. My selfish granddaughter, only ever doing things for herself.”

Isabella sighed. She knew her grandmother was teasing her. But she did feel selfish. All the time. Every part of her life felt like jumping from one selfish decision to the next, hurting everyone within reach. That was her legacy, wasn’t it? Even her two children, who she would have moved heaven and earth for, suffered because she just couldn’t quite get her shit together. And why couldn’t she get her shit together? Because she kept making bad decisions. Even now, she really had uprooted her children to move home because selfishly she wanted whatever time she had left with her grandmother, even if it meant dividing what little energy and attention she had for her children even further. And selfishly, too, it was a break on rent, which she’d been struggling to make before.

“I didn’t mean that,” her grandmother whispered. “I’m teasing you, Isabella. You’re a good girl with a big heart. Be kind to yourself. I’m glad you’re home, I’m just sad a mini seizure is what brought you home.”

“It wasn’t mini, Grandma.”

“And don’t be too hard on Jungkook. I think he’s made a sincere effort to leave his high school behavior in high school.”

“It would be easier not to be hard on him if he would stop following me everywhere. I swear, he’s like a plague. A shadow!”

Grandma grinned, “Then it’s just like when you were twelve again.”

“God, I hope not. Twelve is the worst age when you’re a girl.”

“It’s not too kind to boys either.”

“Jungkook came out on the right side of it.”

“Oh, do you think he’s handsome now?” her grandmother asked, and Isabella felt the snicker against her scalp.

“No. I meant after puberty, the girls in high school did! He’s ugly now.”

“Isabella.”

“So ugly. Stupid face.”

“Isabella,” her grandmother laughed.

“What! He was probably thinking the same things when he saw me. Wow, she got ugly and old and fat--”

“Ok, missy, I’m cutting you off,” her grandmother said, nudging her to get her to sit up. “Go to bed.”

“What! Cutting me off from what, I’m not drinking anything.”

“From thoughts like that. You are beautiful and hard-working and you have two perfect children.”

“I know, I know.”

“You are kicking ass.”

“Grandmaaa,” Isabelle laughed.

“I’m eighty-six, I can say ass for once.”

“That’s twice!”

“Ah, better call Officer Jeon to arrest me--”

Isabella pretended to vomit, “Never call him Officer Jeon again. He’s an idiot. He’s so… smug. He thinks he’s better than me--”

“Bella, honey.”

“Hm?”

“You’re not sixteen anymore and neither is he. Let it rest.”

Isabella didn’t quite know what her grandmother meant by that. There was plenty she could imply. But while she had no problem assuming intent on Jungkook’s part because he’d been such an absolute asshole in high school, she didn’t want to read anything in what her grandmother said now that could either defend Jungkook or embarrass herself.

“Fine,” Isabella conceded. “Anyway, I probably won’t see him again. Unless he really is stalking me and then I’ll get a restraining order.”

“That’s my girl,” Grandma laughed and kissed her forehead. “Now to bed. We have to do this all again tomorrow.”

“Wait, the kids have to go to school again?”

It made Grandma laugh, and Isabella was glad to see that. Honestly maybe it was all a little hammed up, even talking about Jungkook, because her grandmother was in constant pain at this point, and any little smile she could get from her was a victory.

“Ok, let me help you up to bed, Grandma. Tomorrow is another day. I’m sure it’ll be better.”

“So, guess who’s back in town?” Youngsoon brought up at dinner. Jungkook groaned and threw his napkin at her before she said anything further, earning a pinch on the arm from his mom. It wasn’t even weekly family dinner night, so Jungkook had thought it would be safe to go to his parents’ place to mooch food, but Youngsoon had also decided to come over with her kids because her husband had a night out with the guys or whatever.

She’d waited until they were halfway through the meal, once the kids had finished and run off to play noisily in the living room, to bring it up. As if just to lure Jungkook into the false sense of getting away with it. But at his parents’ curious prompt, Youngsoon answered,

“Isabella Desmond. She’s staying with her grandmother.”

“Isabella Desmond! How is she?”

“Why are you looking at me?” Jungkook grumbled, shoving tempura in his mouth.

“You already knew?”

Jungkook made a face and admitted, “Yeah, I already knew… she’s… struggling, it seems.”

“Struggling how?” his mother pressed. “It must be hard with her grandmother in poor health…”

“Working at Target doesn’t mean she’s struggling,” Youngsoon countered, leveling a look at Jungkook.

“No, I think she’s struggling because-- I don’t know,” he shrugged. On second thought, he didn’t want to get into it. “Just seems like she has a lot on her plate.”

“She’s got two kids,” Youngsoon informed his parents. “Eight and four, she said. I asked her to give me a call for a playdate.”

“Ah, that’s good. It would be good to see her again. She was always such a good friend to Gukka,” his father said. Jungkook sighed and rolled his eyes, earning a swift kick from his mom beneath the table even before his father teased, “Even when Gukka was not a good friend.”

“I was always a great friend. I’m still a great friend. I let her off with warnings twice.”

“Twice? One was for a speeding ticket. What was the other one?” Youngsoon immediately caught because of course she did.

Jungkook gave her a smug grin, “Sorry, can’t disclose, official police business.”

“Well if she calls you, please invite her over to supper,” his mother suggested. “Her and the children and her grandmother. It would be good to see them all again.”

Jungkook clicked his teeth and said, “She’s not going to call you, Soona. And it’s for the best, just let her be. She’s not in a good place right now.”

“Ok.” Youngsoon gave him a serious look. “Then… help her.”

“I did. I gave her warnings twice.”

“That’s not helping, that’s enabling--”

Jungkook sighed, “She’s not my responsibility.”

“It’s not good,” his mother argued. “She was such a good friend to you when we first moved here. It felt like I didn’t even have a son anymore because you were always off in that treehouse playing together. We bought that Nintendo just to lure you both into the house.”

“Ma, we were twelve and also it was a PlayStation, you can’t just call all video game systems Nintendo. And we don’t owe each other anything because we were old Pokemon buddies. She’s not doing me any favors either.”

“What favors do you want her to do?” Youngsoon asked, bright-eyed.

“Ma, Soona’s being dirty.”

“Soona, behave.”

“I’m just--��

“Yes, I know, I know.”

“She’s pretty, mom. You should have seen Gukka’s grin when we saw her in Target--”

“Bull--- hockey,” Jungkook glared. “She’s a menace. You should have heard her talking her way out of the parking ticket. Demanding to see the radar gun…”

Jungkook’s dad grinned, “Well? Did it work?”

“Wha-- it worked because I was being nice and gave her a warning.”

“You didn’t have a radar gun,” his dad nodded.

“She was clearly speeding but… no… I didn’t…”

“Ah, she was always a clever girl,” his mother laughed. “I hope she is ok. Keep an eye out for her, Gukka. You say you don’t owe her anything? We always owe kindness to the people who were kind to us.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he sighed, shaking his head. “I let her off with a warning twice… I don’t know what more you want me to do…”

“Whatever your heart says you should,” his mother beamed at him. Absolutely infuriating.

Fortunately Soona’s kids ran shrieking into the room, bickering about who broke the TV remote, and Jungkook was saved from further interrogation.

#amended #mywriting #jungkook ff #jungkook fanfic #myao3 #cop!jungkook

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itsthemoofacewriting · 4 years

Text

A postcard home

This is for the Tumblr event the wonderful @zonamievents organised, today’s prompts are postcard and hot cocoa. I picked the former.

Summary: Nami thinks she’s so smart and cunning, but she can’t pull the wool over her own sisters’ eyes. Rating: K.

This can also be found on AO3 and FFN.

I’ve never written a no dialogue story before and I wanted to try it.

Enjoy.

Snow had finally settled over Cocoyasi village. It was late this year and everyone in the village had wondered if this would be the first year that they wouldn’t have any before Christmas. It was a big topic for weeks and Nojiko was slightly relieved when it did arrive so everyone would stop talking about it. Although, it certainly did highlight a change for the better. Gone were the times of discussing Nami or hiding from Arlong and his crew when they rampaged or banding together when someone was short on money.

It was a lovely, mundane difference.

The only issue with the arrival of snow, other than villagers now moaning about how hazardous the snow was, was that it was a tough season for Bell-mère’s mikan orchard. Don’t get her wrong, it looked beautiful, snow settled on top of the trees and hints of orange poking through the white, but it meant smaller than usual mikan’s.

Nojiko’s brought out of those thoughts when she heard the crunching of shoes against snow and it’s the mailman looking slightly out of puff. It wasn’t really a quick trip to her house from the village and the snow only made it harder. But she doesn’t dwell on that, because seeing him meant that it could only be one thing being delivered and it had her skipping towards the door to meet him there.

The door’s shutting quickly after his first knock and it’s probably a bit rude, he had clearly wanted to chat, but they can do that anytime, she wanted to look at this as soon as possible. Her fingers are itching.

It had been a while since she’d heard from Nami.

The envelopes open and she’s greeted by the picture of a large Christmas tree, decorated to the nines, on the front of the postcard. It’s a generic picture but it’s normally whatever Nami can get hold of but Nojiko’s still slightly impressed she managed to predict when it’d get here and find one to match that. Their postcards could take anywhere from a month to six to get to the other.

Flipping it over, she scanned the message:

Everything’s good. Nothing new.

Nami’s messages were always short and to the point. It was hardly like Nami could go into great detail. Firstly, where would she find the time? And secondly, information was brief so nothing could be traced should the postcard be intercepted. And that was fine, it was enough just to know her sister was okay. Also, it meant if information was brief Nami would send photos along in an envelope with the postcard and she loved those.

And low and behold, there they were behind the postcard.

They were hardly ever works of art, but they were always fun and just from those still images Nojiko knew Nami was having the time of her life. Like she deserved to. Also, it was nice to see her sister, even if it wasn’t in person.

But the photo she’s currently looking at is a stark contrast to her sister’s words on the postcard. It’s a group shot of the crew and its chaos, some looking at the camera like good models, others laughing or bickering or extra limbs were sticking out of them, but that’s not what caught her attention.

It’s the man standing next to Nami.

Roronoa Zoro.

She remembered his stern expressions well from back then, always ready for the worst and, she reckoned, hoping for it at times if the blood thirsty gleam in his eyes she’d seen briefly was any indication. But she’d seen first-hand how all of that would melt away after victory or when he was offered alcohol and would laugh at the antics of his crew. A brute with a soft heart, it seemed.

To an average person, with no knowledge of the people in the photo, it would look like nothing, but call it a sister’s intuition… and, okay fine, the trashy gossip magazines she’s been buying to keep tabs on her sister between postcards, it’s certainly not an accurate description of Nami’s words ‘nothing new.’

They’re stood close together in the chaos, much closer than what one would deem friendly (Maybe she’s being over critical, sue her), neither facing the camera as they looked to be arguing. Nami’s finger is pointing at his chest and their faces are close as they exchange words, Usopp’s next to them looking exasperated. So nothing new apparently.

She’d seen the way those two were around each other before they’d left the village and she’d quietly hoped there would be some development. She had to play it cool with Nami though, show too much interest and she’d never find out without a face-to-face conversation. But with how brief their postcards are, she’s left analysing photos and trashy magazines with blurry photos of the two of them together. One time, it looked like they had been kissing off in the distance, but the quality was so poor most people didn’t believe it. But Nojiko could spot her sister anywhere.

Was it too much to ask for photographers to focus their damn snail before taking photos?

Nevertheless it was enough for Nojiko. Flicking through the rest of the photos she was disappointed that there was no more of the two together. Nami was such a tease, dangling a carrot in front of her just out of reach. But she couldn’t be too disappointed when she came across the photo of Nami with her mikan trees… and if she squinted, was there a splash of green hair she saw hidden in the trees?

Nojiko wasn’t born yesterday, Nami’s definitely playing with her. She’d spent her childhood growing up with Nami, she knew her sister like the back of her hand. But it still amused her that Nami tried to trick her, make her work for the information. It’s so like her.

A real witch, you might be tempted to say.

Quite fitting really. A brute and a witch, both too soft for their own good at times.

In the quiet of her little home, she went back to the first of the photos and was still as she gazed down at the photo, almost like she was trying to soak it all in. Her gaze occasionally taking in the rest of the crew, but ultimately it stayed on Nami. Taking in her long orange hair playing in the wind, eyebrows furrowed and mouth open like she’s in the middle of a lecture. Despite the expression, there’s no weight to Nami’s expression, like there used to be back then. It made Nojiko happy. That was what she’d always wanted for her, wanted her to be where she belonged- at sea, even if it split them apart.

And it seemed Zoro had a part to play in that now, even if it wasn’t one hundred percent confirmed (To Nojiko it was but try telling that to the other villagers).

With one last long look at her sister, Nojiko was opening the envelope again to slip in the postcard and photos, ready to venture down to the village to show the others. However, as she did, the items were met with resistance and when she peered in, she’d missed something else.

Another photo.

With the new photo in hand, Nojiko’s serene smile curled into something much sharper. A mixture of glee and smugness that screamed ‘I knew it!’. It was probably for the best Nami wasn’t here, because that look alone would have her back up, like a cornered cat.

There was less of the crew is this photo, only the five that had been at Arlong park and it looked like they’d finally got their act together. All of them looking at the camera, Luffy’s arms stretched around to bring them all in and even with less of them, it still managed to be just as busy.

But that’s not what caught her eye, no. It’s the arm that’s wrapped around Nami’s waist and a Nami’s head resting on a shoulder. An arm that belonged to Zoro and Nami’s head on his shoulder. Both of them are smiling at the camera, leaning into one another and Nojiko doesn’t have to read between the lines this time to have her confirmation that they are indeed together.

She doesn’t stop to stare at it like the others because she’s too giddy and excited to stand still.

With a skip in her step, she’s shoving the photos and postcard into the envelope and slipping on her coat as she made her way towards the door. All the while thinking about how she wanted to play this with Genzo, so she could get the best possible reaction from him. He’d be horrified no matter what, but she really wanted to milk it. She had to get her kicks somehow.

And, she had some money to collect from some villagers. She was Nami’s sister after all, she’s always down for some easy cash- she just has no idea why they bet against her.

Two months later

It’s warm, the sun’s high and they’re making good progress towards the next island. For the time being, it’s something that doesn’t require her attention and she’s just about to walk across the deck to join Robin for some sunbathing when she heard the familiar cry of the News Coo.

Looking into the sky, it circled a few times before starting its descent and Nami was walking over to meet the bird at the railing.

Unlike the normal newspaper she bought weekly, it was a sealed envelope and Nami was quickly paying off the bird, barely taking notice of the price increase, so she could quickly open her letter. There was only one person this could be from.

The postcard was simple, just a picture of an orange cat, but based on the photos that slipped out of the envelope, it’d been sent around Christmas. Nojiko and Genzo were in one of the photo’s surrounded by snow.

She looked at it for a moment longer, thinking about where she would frame the photo before turning her attention to the letter. Nami had thought it was hilarious when she’d sent her postcard off to Nojiko, just leaving enough crumbs for her to figure it out so when she flipped the card to read the message, she gave a short, sharp laugh.

Nojiko had figured it out alright.

Nice try. Since when did you take an interest in plant life?

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

By plant life, am I referring to Zoro’s nickname Marimo? Yes, yes, I am.

I love the thought of Nami and Nojiko sending little postcards and photos to one another.

As always, please forgive any errors (especially as I rushed this to post on time).

Thanks for reading.

#ZoNaHoliday2020 #ZoNami #ZoNa #ZoroxNami #opfanfic #opwriting #One piece #Zoro #Nami

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applsauss · 5 years

Text

Intimate

Series: Blink: The All-American Hero

Description: Some third years get up to no good in a dorm room.

Quirk: Blink. (Y/N) can instantaneously teleport short-distances. She does not have to see her destination, however the matter she teleports cannot replace that which already exists (meaning she can cut herself in half by teleporting halfway through a wall).

Fandom:  My Hero Academia

Pairing:  Bakugou Katsuki/Reader

Word Count:  2.2k+

Warning(s):  Smut.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o- 

Two nights ago, Katsuki invited you up to his dorm like you were performing some sort of business interaction, and you’d shrugged and went along with it because it’s Katsuki, and this is just how he is sometimes - and now you find yourself here, naked, on his bed, with him kneeling between your thighs as he sits up from a rather intense kiss.

Neither of you are the type to bare your hearts and histories without reason, so without too many words, you’ve both confirmed that you’re virgins - but you’re young and confident and all you know is that you love the look in his eyes when he uses his body to press you into a wall.

“(Y/N),”

“Hmm?”

“Is this okay?”

“Yea.”

He’s ridiculously prepared, with research, with lube and a box of condoms neither of you plan on using tonight, and you’re comfortable on the bed with him hovering over you as he considers how to progress.

Not worried about time, Katsuki drags a hand over your sex, fingers carding through pubic hair before he narrows his broad strokes to your wet opening, just trying to get a feel for what he’s working with.

He rubs you, probing until his fingers dip past your labia in search of your clit, and he knows he’s got it when your body tenses and your eyes shut. He continues to rub it and you lose your breath, wet lips parting slightly. With every pass over, your body gives a little jolt and the feeling of you moving against him, skin on skin, is enough to make your mind go fuzzy.

He begins rubbing your clit in circles and the muscles in your legs are clenching with every pass over. He pauses the onslaught every once in a while to dip his finger down and draw up some of the wetness accumulating at your entrance.

The want to see him mounts, and with effort, you manage to open your eyes. Your fingers tighten around the sheets and your stomach drops at the sight of the serious, concentrated expression on his face. His eyes flicker up to yours, and gain this steady, confident quality that makes it so you can’t look away from them, red and flashing - glowing with pride. He looks so fucking good.

When he thinks he’s given you enough stimulation, he dips his finger lower for a final time and sinks into your wet heat to the first knuckle. He’s eager to discover, to experience something he’s never experienced before, and it’s all the sweeter that it’s with you. He’s never gone this far with another person, fondled and kissed them, made them feel loved.

You let out a sharp breath and mumble, “fuck, your fingers are bigger than mine.”

He can’t help the pleased snicker that quakes in his chest, and he rubs your bare thigh with his free hand in response. You open your eyes to meet his lidded, aroused stare, and he shuffles himself to get more comfortable, then dips his finger back in, knuckle probing at your tight entrance.

“Okay?” he asks.

“Yea. You can put it in “

You remember telling him you’d never had an orgasm before, and you wonder if he remembers that conversation.

His pointer finger sinks easily into you, all the way to the third knuckle, and you squirm when he wiggles it around. Sloppily, he tries to find your clit with his thumb as he pulls his finger out, then gently sinks it back in, evidently savoring the texture of your slippery heat.

You feel full, the intrusion causing an interesting stretch, and when he curls his finger to drag the fingertip against where he’s read the g-spot is, you can feel the texture of his finger dragging across the tight rings of muscle inside you. You shift under his attention, and pant lightly into the cool air of the room.

He glances from his work up to your face, but you can barely see him because your head is thrown back.

“Okay?” He asks again.

“Yea,” your throat tightens when he curls his finger again. He feels deeper than anything you’ve ever had before, similar to how you imagined this’d feel, but infinitely different - and it’s all you can do to concentrate on the sensation, trying to decide whether you like it or not.

“Do you want me to try another finger?”

“Um…” You swallow and try to find your brain when he stops rubbing your clit. “Yea... just go slow and…” you shift to lay flat against the bed from where you’d pushed out your chest, and stare at him helplessly.

“And...?”

You shake your head and wrap your hands around the pillow above your head. He wiggles his finger, forcing another tremor to run through you, then pulls it out to consider his approach.

At first, Katsuki brings his pointer and middle finger together to breach your entrance, but he finds his dry finger makes some of the slick at your entrance disappear.

After appearing to think for a moment, he pulls his hand away from your sex and slips his fingers into his mouth. Your breath hitches at the sight, and his eyes flick to yours, a somewhat smug expression overtaking his face as you watch his tongue move in his mouth.

Now wet with saliva, he brings his fingers back down, and pushes one inside.

He slowly works the second finger into you, eyes trained on your face for any hint of pain. Your hips begin to ache from being spread so wide, and so you wiggle for a better position on his lap. You brush his erection with your ass, and he lets out a muffled moan. You can’t figure out what to do with your hands, and his intensity is starting to make it so you can’t look him in the eye. You don’t know how to handle how natural it feels to have him leering over you.

Eventually, you’re breathing heavier and he’s worked two fingers in to the second knuckle. He scissors them slightly and you huff, discontented.

“Does it hurt?“ He asks, quickly stilling all his movements.

“A little, but it also feels... good,” you say quietly, “like… I kind of like it.” He flashes an amused look your way, but you’re looking anywhere but him.

“Hey…” he moves the hand bracing your thigh to your chin and tries to move your face towards him, making you whine lowly. At your refusal, he snakes his hand into your hair and firmly tugs you where he can see you. “Hey. What’s up with you?”

“‘Feels fine, Katsuki, just…” your fingers curl into the pillow and the gentle flush that’d been slowly building deepens as you meet his heated gaze. Then, in a fit of confidence, you make a displeased click of your tongue and settle both hands in his bare shoulders. “Just come here. You’re so far away.”

He snorts, but leans in towards you and kisses a trail up from the swell of your breasts to your mouth. Once he’s closing you in with his sturdy frame, weight held with a heavy arm braced next to your head, you let out a pleased sigh, and guide his lips to yours. Your fumbly hands knead his shoulders, then sink into his hair, nails lightly dragging across his scalp in the way you know he likes.

He gives you a slow, languid kiss. It’s loving, comfortable, and then you make a little noise in the back of your throat when Katsuki presses his fingers just a little deeper into you. You shift restlessly and he bucks his hips into your ass, reminding you of his erection.

“Good?” He checks in as he wiggles his fingers slightly, feeling the way you stretch for him.

“Good.” He shifts his wrist and presses in deeper, and you let out a breath, jaw dropping and eyes fluttering shut. “‘S good. Didn’t think your fingers would make such a difference…”

He hums in response, then drags his fingers back halfway before pushing them in again, jostling your body slightly and making you vocalize another soft whine.

He picks up a slow, careful pace, and you tense up at the stimulation. He starts rubbing your clit off and on sloppily with his thumb, and you close your eyes, lips parting and breathing picking up.

You can only imagine what you must look like. You can feel the drag of his fingers inside you, hear the wet sound when he pushes them in. He sinks his fingers in as far as they can go, his palm laying flat against your sex and it’s a struggle to sort your thoughts into any order. He curls his fingers experimentally and you mumble some praise and arch your back so your breasts press up against his bare chest.

“Fuck, you’re really tight,” he mumbles into your neck, his breath hot on your already warm skin.

“Mnngh,”

“You feel so soft…”

“Katsuki…” you say his name in a breathless sort of way that makes his hand fist the sheet by your head. He grunts in response, then pushes his fingers back into you a bit rougher than before.

Slowly, you loosen and it’s easier for his fingers to move inside you. He begins kissing down your body, and you’re sad to lose his warmth but he’s being so sweet and you’re putty with the way he sucks your skin into his mouth, teeth teasing it red.

Your hands can’t reach his shoulders anymore, so you slip them back into his hair. Your stomach knots and knots, and he’s working you up and up until suddenly, his breath is ghosting your clit. He starts curling his fingers while he drags them out every time, and the thought of Katsuki doing this to you makes you moan out loud into the room.

The sound of his fingers in your pussy are louder than before and - and you feel yourself fraying and fraying until he laps at your clit with a stiffened tongue. You let out a loud squeak at the contact, knees bending and thighs curling up towards his head, but he presses down harshly with one hand to keep legs propped open, five fingers indenting into the flesh of your thigh, and suddenly you find yourself on a cliff you didn’t even know you were headed towards.

“Kah- Tsuki!” Your breathing hard, chest cranking up, then down, and fingers curling and uncurling irregularly in his hair. You’re losing your grip, metaphorically, physically, and you drop your hands to tug at the sheets of his bed. You toss your head to the side, and his pillow smells like him. You try and focus on the scent and the pleasure throbbing in your sex, but he keeps distracting you with the way he’s lapping at your clit.

He drops his hand from your thigh to your labia, parting your folds to rapidly flick his tongue over your clit, fingers speeding up concurrently and you choke on a breath. Your back is painfully arched breasts pressed up towards the ceiling and Katsuki lets loose a loud rumbling groan into you and you can’t breath, moan breaking off to silence as you feel yourself consumed by white static that crept up, then engulfed you all at once. You feel your body writhing, but don’t remember having control. Distantly, you can hear yourself gasping for air and letting out a slew of huffy, quiet moans.

You’re aware of Katsuki, still massaging the inner walls of your vagina, but slower, and as you’re drifting back from what you can only assume was an orgasm, he presses a teasing kiss to your clit that makes you jolt in his hold.

With a pleased hum, he pulls his fingers out, but stays down where he is, enjoying how your body reacts to him, eyes focused on the way your breasts rise and fall with each labored breath, and the way your chin bobs as you press your head back into the mattress.

He gives an experimental thrust, pushing his fingers back into your quivering warmth, and you let out a quiet moan of protest, body going rigid as you shake with exertion. Out of breath the same as you, Katsuki removes his fingers and leaves a slobbery kiss on your thigh, sucking the pliant skin into his mouth for effect, keen eyes focused on your reaction, and then he lets you go.

Eventually, you slump back into the mattress, and he crawls back over your body, leaving a trail of wet kisses that turn cold as soon he moves on.

“Good?” He asks, careful to keep his crotch from bumping you, aware of the straining erection in his boxers.

You let out a long sigh and curl your fingers into his hair, dragging him down so his weight is almost fully on you. “Good, Katsuki. Fuck.”

He laughs in your ear, and you can practically feel the pride radiating from him, but can’t find it in you to try and tamp it down. After all, he’s just done something you could never manage on your own.

He pecks your lips, eyes gleaming in the low lighting, then sits up on his haunches. “Good.” He drags two burning hot hands down your legs, then slips off the bed. “I’ll be right back.”

You watch him as he pulls a shirt on, then steps out into the hallway.

His footsteps disappear in the direction of the floor’s bathrooms, and you’re left sprawled out across his messy sheets, staring at the ceiling, feeling worn out and pliant.

Now that you know what this is like, you don’t think you can ever let him go.

You’re so fucked.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o- 

Masterlist in blog desc.

#bakugou katsuki #bakugou katsuki x reader #bnha #bnha x reader #bakugou katsuki imagine

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fawnhunter · 4 years

Text

Oh shit my first post.

Hi my name is Claire and I present to you my A-Z fluff headcannons for Bakugou Katsuki. My king.

A= activites- what do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?

— This boy enjoys anything where he has a chance to make you smile and see it happen. He doesn't enjoy things like going to the movies because he won't be able to talk to you, but things like coffee dates and going to the mall he would be totally down for.

— Bakugou is one the kind of person where even though they have free time, they still have things they may want to do. That being said, he always makes sure you are at the most 15 feet away from him while doing said thing. Even if he’s just trying out a new recipe and you're sitting on the couch fidgeting with your phone. That's all he needs.

B=beauty- what do they admire about their s/o? What do they think is beautiful about them?

— This may be weird but he admires how much common sense you have, being he's the one that runs head first into crazy ideas and issues, having you gives him the feeling of being balanced. He always trusts you to make the right decisions for the both of you.

— The thing he thinks is beautiful about you is your shoulders and your back. He enjoys how you relax around him when he pulls you into a hug. Again, you give him that sense of being balanced.

C=comfort- How would they help their s/o during hard times or when they need it most?

— LOL. This man can barely handle his own emotions, how do you think he is going to handle yours. But in all seriousness as soon as you started crying he would have not the slightest idea of how to help you. He would probably try hugging you, but in the most stiff and awkward way. So awkward in fact it even stifled a laugh out of you.

D= dreams- how do they picture their future with their s/o?

— As a person who really doubts himself deep down on the inside. He decided that once he found that someone who really loved him for him, he was never going to let them go. This being said he already decided he IS going to marry you, it's just a matter of when.

E= equal- are they the dominant one or are they more passive in your relationship?

— I see him as the one who is always on you about your well being and not about the things you do. He has enough respect to understand that just because you're his, it doesn't mean he owns you. Still, he just always wants to know you're okay.

F= Flirting- how often do they flirt or tease their s/o? How smooth are they?

— This smug bastard is a damn good flirt.

— He is the smoothes man on the freakin planet. He KNOWS what he's doing.

— Will not hesitate to drop his voice a few octaves, wrap his hands around your waist and growl in your ear just to get what he wants.

G= Gratitude- How grateful are they in general? Are they aware of what their s/o does for them?

— Katsuki is extremely grateful. His mom raised him to be thankful if nothing else.

— He notices the things you does for him, and always expresses how lucky he is to have you

H=Honesty- do they have any secret that they keep from their s/o or do they share everything

— If there was one thing he would keep from you, it would be how he treated deku when they were younger. Although if you were to come and ask about it, he wouldn't lie.

I=Inspiration- did their s/o change something about them or is it the other way around? (it could be personal issues or just trying new day to day things)

— To him you make home feel like home. Before you moved in with each other, he would have never called the place where he lived home.

— But now you moved in and added a little bit of you everywhere. Your favorite blanket on the couch, your shampoo next to his in the shower, and his favorite pictures of you two on the wall. He noticed all these little things and loved them all.

J=jealousy- do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?

— Whew… here we go.

— First off it's never your fault, most of the time you were completely oblivious. Just walking into places with you he could see the way heads turned to look at you, all the while you were playing with the veins on his hand as you held it. It made him content in a way. It warmed his heart how you were only focused on him.

— But also how dare those people look at you.

K=kiss- how do they kiss? What was the first kiss like?

—I love the idea the katsuki tastes like caramel and brown sugar and HEAVEN and im gonna fucking stand by it.

— He's very heavy on the tongue. But he's not sloppy and overwhelming about it.

— Kisses with him rarely stay on the lips. Kisses on your jaw and neck.

— Enough to leave you flustered but not needy.

— When he's done he always kisses you on the forehead.

L=Love confession- How did it go down?

— It was your sixth or seventh dinner date, this one was at your place because you were trying to convince him you could cook just as well as he can.

— There you guys are sitting on your couch after dinner snuggled up watching a movie. You had fallen asleep on his chest. Hair tickling his nose. He looks down to see you snoring, your serene face looking so content. He leans down and gives your forehead a kiss.

— “I love you y/n”

— The look on this man's face when you snuggle in closer to him and whisper.

— “I love you too Katsuki”

— Is one of pure bliss.

M=Marriage- do they want to get married? How do they propose? Wedding day description?

— When he proposes, he does without a care in the world. Just one late night on the couch when suddenly he asks

— “Can we get married now?”

— The way you choke on air is hilarious

— “LiKe right NoW!!?!”

— “No dumbass in a couple of weeks or months..i don't know,,ANSWER THE QUESTION”

— “Yes, we can get married sure.”

— And from that point you didnt lift a fucking FINGER. He called his mom the very next day telling her you were going to need a dress (completely ignoring the screaming coming from his mother's end) Called his friends and asked Izuku to do all the intense planning.

— There was lots of orange and green

N=nicknames- what do they call their s/o?

— “You look cute baby”

— “Love ya....dumASS!”

O=Obsessed- how protective are they of their s/o? How much are they worried about them?

— He would end the fucking world for you. NO questions asked. Whatever you needed he would do for you.

— He knows you can protect yourself, hell, you remind him of that fact constantly. However he likes to make in known that he is there as back up as extra consequence

P=PDA- are they obvious about the relationship? Do they talk a lot about his s/o? Are they okay with affection in front of others?

— A doesn't feel the need to hide anything. If he wants to kiss he's going to, and that just fact.

— Will definitely boast about how great you are and rub it in to his friends all the amazing things to do for him.

— Will not admit it out loud but this man is putty in your hand and your wish is his command.

Q= Quirk- some random ability they have in a relationship

— Gives the BEST massages. His hand are already so warm and huge and…(this is fluff and i almost forgot)

R=Romance- how romantic are they? What would they do to make their s/o smile? Are their ideas rather original or creative?

— Not the most extreme romantic. Can be when the time calls for it, but mostly enjoys that fact that you are there with him, rather than focusing on anything else.

— He finds that when he complains and bitches about his day it make you smile. (he has heard that he has a very expressive face)

S=support- do they push their s/o to do better? Do they believe in them?

— Katsuki is the one person in your life you will alway be able to depend on.

— WIll do whatever they need to do to help you achieve your goals.

T=thrill- are they okay with a certain routine or do they need some spice every once in a while?

— Routine is this boy's best friend. He likes coming home knowing what to expect and what to prepare for.

— All though he doesn't hate surprises and is always down for some spur of the moment fun.

U=Understanding- how well do they know you? Are they sensitive to your emotion?

— To Katsuki keeping you happy is his number one goal. This means he knows all the things that you love and like to do, and he tries to bring them up as much as possible.

— That being said, your happiness is really all he understands. I mean he can tell you are upset. But would have no clue how to go about it.

V=Value- how important is your relationship compared to other things in their life?

— In his mind, as long as he has you, everything will be alright. Meaning he puts you above all else, because you lead him forwards.

W=Wild card-Random Fluff bomb!!

— Katsuki likes to spoil you. You mean the world to him, and he knows he doesn't say it enough.

— Which means clothes, shoes and maybe even that new mixer (which he kinda wants as well) will just appear in your house giving no choice but to accept them.

X=XOXO- how affectionate are they? Are they a cuddle bug or do they like their space?

— Shows you he loves you more physically than saying it out loud.

— Will take any chance he can to cuddle when at home.

Y=Yearning- how do they cope when they miss you?

— Like shit. You are a big stress reliever for him and he normally has you there to make him feel better. But if you're not there not only does he miss you but he also has no one to really talk to. Therefore turning him into a grumpy monster

Zzz- how do you both fall asleep/nap

— Is the big spoon.

— He likes to sleep behind you so he can place his head in the crook of your neck.

— Other times he likes to completely lay out on top of you with his hands around your waist and his face on your stomach or chest.

——————————————————————————————————————————

Thanks for reading babes.

MY REQUEST BOX IS OPEN PLEASE IM SO BORED AT HOME. ( I do Headcannons, short blurbs, and maybe scenarios)

Also be chaotic in my ask box I don’t mind ☺️

#bakugou headcanons #mha x reader #bakugou x reader #i love him can you tell #if he was real id simp as hard as possible.#claireblep

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bookdorp · 3 years

Text

A Court of Wings and Ruin ; Chapter 9 to 15

Finally the part in the Spring Court is over. When I was waiting to read this book for the first time I was so excited about Feyre’s sneaking around and cunning ways, but somehow it never really lived up to the expectations. It all went too easy and too simple, and none of it really felt like she was actually ever in danger. Oh, and I hate Feyre’s smugness...

Anyway, Chapter 9 brings us to our last few chapters at the Spring Court. The fact that Tamlin and Ianthe both join kind of tells us shit is going down. Maas isn’t as subtle as she thinks. But the fact we barely get to see Tamlin in this chapter makes his presence useless.

Feyre eats an apple while ‘interogating’ the Hybern twins. It’s written as if she’s being real subtle but she just plainly asking them questions without even hiding she’s fishing for information. And the fact that the twins are just telling her everything should have made bells go of in Feyre’s head that something was off. But, like in the previous chapters, Feyre’s smugness and arrogance in thinking that she’s one step ahead of everyone, cripples her.

We do get to see her have her revenge on Ianthe, which I loved reading. PERFECT. And if she saves Lucien at the same time PERFECT even more! Lucien already knows Feyre’s real intentions of course but this sets us up for Lucien leaving with Feyre. YES!

Chapter 10 is Feyre getting caught by the Hybern twins. SURPIRSE TONY! Not really. I knew something was up when they answered her questions too easily. Nice touch with the posioned apple though. Didn’t see that coming, though I did feel like the description of Feyre eating that apple was too...pushy? Still, nice work. Their magic is shut of. There is some threatening, some fighting, the Hybern twins are killed by Feyre and Lucien both, and they run.

Oh, btw, the twins mention something about the High Lord of the Dawn Court and Lucien. I remember something about this from my previous read and I’m happy for Lucien if this turns out to be real, it would explain the over the top hate his father and brother have for Lucien...

Chapter 11 is Feyre and Lucien running. Without magic they can’t winnow so legwork it is. Run eat sleep, run eat sleep, repeat. A bit boring but they have some nice conversations where Feyre starts coming clean to Lucien since he’s coming with her anyway. A little bonding. A whole chapter of this. And then, ghasp, as they flee through the Autumn Court and Lucien’s brothers catch them.

Chapter 12 is them excaping an then more fleeing but this time their pursuit is at their heels. Some more bonding and talking, but mostly running and crossing into the Winter Court. This chapter was kind of pointless...

Chapter 13 is where of course their pursuit catches up on them. They fight, and nearly loose, but Cassian and Azriel to the rescue. Thought Rhys would show up but he’s too far away right now, but we love Cassian and Azriel even more! They’re saved but Feyre choses to let the evil brothers live to prevent all an out war between the Night Court and Winter Court. And Feyre declares herself High Lady of the Night Court. BOOM!

It kind of annoys me one of the brothers needs to say: ‘There is no such thing as a High Lady!’ Like, it’s obvious Maas wants to make the connection to Tamlin saying this in ACOTAR, but really. After hating on Tamlin during all of ACOMAF WE GET IT, TAMLIN IS EVIL. Stop forcing it one us.

And they fly home, in the arms of Cassian and Azriel. I had a great time picturing Azriel and Lucien’s discomfort as Azriel carries him ><

Into chapter 14, where everyone is reunited in a way too dramatic manner. I was looking forward to Feyre jumping in Rhys’ arms and kissing him, but of course she needs to make ‘keening’ sounds and fall to her knees, because suddenly seeing Rhys makes her feel weak and in need of protective arms around her. ‘*gags* These two get more annoying in their love each book. It’s getting too corny.

The rest of the chapter is just very long boring foreplay where Rhys and Feyre continue explaining too eachother what happened in the last month while also looking at eachother sexily, and Feyre takes a bath sexily and Rhys just sexily watches. This was waaaay too long. And then they have sex. Which was surprisingly short. But I’m ok with that because I wasn’t a fan of pages long sex.

In chapter 15 Feyre is done having sex and goes to meet her sisters. In any other circumstances I would be annoyed she didn’t check up with them first, but they’re really not that close and Feyre’s family is obviously Rhys and the Inner Circle. But we go anyway. But first Feyre and Rhys explain to Lucien everything that happened Under The Mountain and during all of ACOMAF, to prove ti Lucien how Rhys is not as evil as everyone thinks. I guess that’s enough to prove it? But I also think Lucien just wants to rest and see Elain and he doesn’t really care that much about Rhys and Feyre.

Nesta is, as always, COLD. I’m getting bored of the descriptions of her being a cold empress or haughty ice queen. Let the woman be... I never hated her like other people do. Maybe a little in ACOTAR, but we already know why she acted how she did and even though it was wrong, I understannd it. And it’s obvious she hates herself more than she hates Feyre. And Elain as just as aweful to Feyre, so both were less than stellar sisters. But somehow Elain gets a free card...

I don’t like how they treat Nesta. Let her be angry. Her whole world has just been turned upside down. She deserves to act out. Also, I don’t like how Cassian and Nesta interact. I know some people look at it and see romance, but I just see Nesta being nasty to Cassian and Cassian mocking Nesta’s loss. I don’t feel in between them. And I did read that extra chapter that is supposed to happen in ACOMAF, but that just felt like pure lust, so where is the love growing from?

Elain is handling nothing at all. Just like in ACOTAR, she just does nothing and lets everyone fuss over her. In ACOTAR, I disliked either sister, in ACOMAF I started to like them both, and even though we only just met Nesta and Elain again in ACOWAR, for now I like Nesta more. I hope Elain snaps out of it, because I really don’t remember how this will go.

Ok, so, next chapters coming up!

#A Court of Wings and Ruin #ACOWAR #Feyre #Lucien #Nesta #Elain

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soybeantree · 4 years

Text

pairing: johnny x reader

genre/warning: fluff, magic!au

word count: 3k

description: you hated him. his stupid face smiling. his stupid charisma that would always woo the customers - of which you had no doubt was aided by the use of magic. his stupid cousin - that you actually adored and would kill to have him even notice you, but who continuously chose johnny over you for assistance. and most of all you hated how your lungs forgot their one job whenever he was within 5 feet of you.

a/n: from the essem: rosemary by moonlight universe. not necessary to read that first, but some things may not make complete sense.

"I'd like an iced caramel Frappuccino with low fat milk and a pump of pep. To go." The customer rattles off her order as she approaches the counter, never sparing you a greeting or even a glance. From her clean-cut bob to her khaki shorts and salmon button down, you know exactly how this conversation is going to go.

Contorting your cheeks into your best customer service smile and using your most pleasant tone, you inform her, "I'm sorry ma'am, but any drinks with magical add-ins must be consumed within the cafe."

Now, she glances at you, her wallet poised in her hand as her face falls into what you refer to as the entitled scowl. "Excuse me?"

“Any drinks with magical add-ins must be consumed within the café.” You repeat, despite the fact that you enunciated clearly the first time. To help with any possible confusion, you gesture to the bright golden script at the bottom of the menu which states the same.

The woman scoffs, and you inhale a deep, imperceptible breath. “Why?” Indignation laces the word and colors her cheeks red.

Many reasons. Most of which revolve around negligence and exploitation, but that explanation drags. Reminding yourself that you want this job and have jumped through hoops to get it, you dredge up every ounce of patience in your body. With a smile still in place, you say. “We strive to abide by the standards set forth within the Council’s Magical Charter. I would be more than happy to complete your order, but any drink with magical add-ins must be consumed on property.”

“I-“ You brace yourself for the entitled tirade, but the woman’s face melts into a bewildered smile. A glance over your shoulder reveals the reason. Johnny, your fellow barista, stands behind you, his cheeks pulled back by a swoon worthy grin.

With a sigh, you step away from the counter and let Johnny work his magic. Quite literally. Johnny, like you, has the skill of enchantment. As a member of the Essem Family, he has had access to training and knowledge all his life. You on the other hand come from a no name family who has one grimoire passed down from generation to generation, and the two-page section on enchantment only works for curing melancholy.

In moments, Johnny has the woman pacified with an iced caramel Frappuccino with low fat milk and no pump of pep, to go. She sends him another smile before she nearly collides with the door on her way out. After a giggle which Johnny echoes, she is gone, and you’re ready to vomit.

"Did you add a shot of charm to your coffee this morning?" You ask as you resume your position.

Johnny flashes you a grin while raising a single smug eyebrow. "No, I'm just naturally this charming." You gag as you turn away which elicits a chuckle from him. “What, you don’t think I’m charming?”

“I think you are a talented witch.” You say as you reorganize your station. While leaning over the counter to schmooze the woman, Johnny managed to throw the entire place into disarray. You return the business cards to their holder and the pencils to their cup.

“You really think I’m using magic when I calm irritated customers?”

A twang in his voice draws your attention back to him. Glancing over your shoulder, your stomach twists. For such a tall man, he can make himself appear so small. His shoulders hunch in as he fiddles with the ties on his apron. The posture throws his long bangs into his eyes, obscuring them from your scrutiny.

The answer to his question is “yes”, but the answer brews from a petty spite which you stoke every time Minseok, the café’s owner and the foremost expert on enchantment magic, chooses him as an assistant over you. The whole reason you strived for a position at the café was to become Minseok’s apprentice, but every day he chooses Johnny to help with his brews. While you enjoy blaming Johnny, you know the favoritism is due to the inclusiveness of the covens. After all, Johnny is Minseok’s cousin.

“Since when do you care what I think? I thought I was just the hired help.”

His head snaps up, the ties of his apron forgotten as he gazes into your eyes. The contact cools your spite, and it sours. Your stomach rolls at the discomfort, and you clear your throat and return to your reorganization.

“Minseok doesn’t hire just anyone to help in the café.”

You know this. You badgered him for a job ever since Johnny told you about his cousin and his café. Minseok had been the sole employee for years after the café’s inception, hiring Johnny only when the café’s popularity grew. Eventually, the work became too much for the two of them, and rather than hire a qualified enchantment witch, Minseok had hired the girl with little-to-no skill who practically lived at the shop.

“Whatever.” You grumble as you throw another pencil into the holder. The force sends the jar spinning. It falls on its side spilling its contents across the counter. With a growl, you reach for the scattered pencils, but Johnny’s long arms reach around you. The pencils disappear into one hand as his other rights the holder before returning the contents.

You duck out from under Johnny’s unintentional embrace, your cheeks burning. He has to be using his magic. You hold tight to this belief as you breathe to calm your racing heart.

“Minseok likes having you here. You’re as detail oriented as he is.” Johnny nods to the front and back counters both of which have everything in their place and a place for everything. “I’m pretty certain you’re the only person in the world who understands his organizational method.”

“It’s not that hard. Ingredients are organized first by purchase date and then alphabetical. Supplies are..." You trail off as you catch sight of Johnny’s smirk out of the corner of your eye. “You really expect me not to think you’re using magic when you always seem to know exactly what to say to distract me?”

He shrugs, but his smirk only grows. “There are other reasons, I might know that.” Before you can question him further, the bell above the front door jingles. “Duty calls.” He tips his head to you before disappearing back into the brewing room.

With a deep breath, you shove the conversation from your mind and rattle off the customary greeting as you turn to face the new customer.

“Good morning, Y/N. How goes the grind?” You blink a moment as your brain registers that your cousin is here. She misses your confusion as she is too busy chuckling at her pun.

"It’s great. How goes your fruitless endeavor to start a school of magic?"

She scowls which brings a genuine smile to your face. "It's not fruitless. It's slow moving because covens are full of stuck up assholes who refuse to share their knowledge because of what? They're afraid it will diminish their power and their prestige. They need to get their heads out of their asses and think about how much better the world would be if we all worked together and shared our knowledge."

This tirade is as familiar as the Entitled tirade. "And yet, you always get coffee at an Essem café?" You comment as you punch her order into the register.

"Minseok has the best coffee.” She hands you her card. “Everyone in the city knows that. Everyone in the world probably knows it too."

"But you're supporting the coven with the most stuck up assholes." You return the card to her.

"You're working at the coffee shop."

"But I don't have the same issues with them that you do." Not mostly at least. You would appreciate it if Minseok occasionally asked you back into the brewing room.

She shrugs. “Did you place that order for here or to go?”

“To go?” You raise a brow.

“I need it for here.”

“Why?” You stretch the word into two syllables.

“Because I’m staying here.” Rolling your eyes, you adjust the order. "I'm supposed to be meeting up with Yuri." She explains as she checks her watch. "But, she's late as usual."

Your finger pauses above the register as you gawk at your cousin. "Yuri? As in the hedge-witch of the Stahn Family?"

"Yuri is much more than a hedge witch."

"Okay, whatever,” You hold up your hands, stopping whatever tirade she will surely start. “But she’s a Stahn and this is an Essem cafe?"

"Yes,” she crosses her arm, and there is no stopping this coming tirade. “Why is it so hard to understand what me and the Fantagios are trying to do? We want to create a world where people can see beyond their family covens and share knowledge for the benefit of the world."

Leaning forward, you shorten the distance between you and your cousin. The more heated she becomes the louder she gets. The customers have already started to side eye her, and the last thing you need is for Johnny and, especially, Minseok to hear her. "That's great and all. But your dream is not reality and you agreed to meet up with a Stahn on Essem territory. They're basically mortal enemies. This could end in bloodshed, and I could lose my job because I'm related to you."

"Calm down. Yuri wouldn't have agreed to meet here if she was worried for her safety."

You swallow your rebuttal as you hear the hinges of the brewing room door squeak. Your cousin’s eyes grow to the size of saucers, and you wonder why Minseok is delivering her coffee. He rarely leaves the brewing room, leaving all the deliveries to Johnny.

Minseok extends a mug to your cousin who whimpers a “thank you” as she takes it. She sips. Her cheeks flush, but whether that is due to Minseok or the heat of the coffee only your cousin knows.

“Is it good?” Minseok’s question raises one of your brows. In the year and a half that you’ve been working for Minseok, you have never heard him ask a customer’s opinion of his work. Pink tinges the tips of his ears, and you have to refrain from pinching yourself. Maybe, this whole day has been a dream.

“It’s delicious.” Your cousin, the queen of social justice tirades, simpers.

The nausea from earlier returns as you suffer through the ensuing conversation. Despite your effort to tune it out, you hear Minseok comment on your cousin’s frequent visits to the café. She explains that you’re her cousin, which you wish she would have left out given what is about to happen, and that he makes the best coffee in the city. His whole ears brighten at the compliment, the red creeping into his cheeks. Surely, a customer is bound to come in soon and end this disgusting display of emotions.

“Y/N can keep you company while you wait.”

Your name snaps your attention back to the conversation. You blink as you search your brain for the lead into the statement but find nothing. “What?”

“I was telling Uko,” Your cousin must have introduced herself while you attempted disassociation, “that you can take your break early to wait with her.”

“Oh, I mean sure if you’re okay with that.” The look on Minseok’s face screams that he would be okay with anything that your cousin wanted.

“Go ahead.” He motions for you to be on your way, and with a slight nod, you head into the brewing room which offers the exit into the main area.

Johnny, busy at a cauldron, eyes you as you walk past him and remove your apron. “Where are you going?”

“I’m taking my break.” You say with a shake of your head as you hang your apron on its hook.

A glance at the clock scrunches up Johnny’s face and puffs out his already large lips. “But, your break’s in an hour?”

“Listen,” you say, turning to face him completely. “I don’t know what I just witnessed out there.” You gesture to the door behind which you are certain the uncomfortable situation is continuing. “But, Minseok said go to break, so I am going to break.”

“What did you witness?” Johnny grabs a mortar and pestle from the counter and adds three pinches to his cauldron. A faint smell of strawberries wafts through the room bringing with it the image of sunlight fields and a gentle breeze. He’s brewing happiness. The ingredient he added was green. Was it an herb? A stone? A mixture of different things? “Y/N?”

“What?” Your mind snaps back to the moment as you remember that Johnny did ask a question. “Is your cousin dating anyone?” You ask rather than answer.

Johnny pauses mid-stir and stares at you. “No.” He draws out the word as he slowly starts to stir the cauldron counter clockwise. “Are you asking for a friend?”

Your eyes narrow at his tone. “No, I’m asking because he’s currently flirting with my cousin, and it’s gross.”

“What?!” His whole face lights up, and he nearly spills the cauldron in his haste to reach the door to the order counter. Sprinting across the room, you reach the door before he does and block it with your body.

“What are you doing?” You pant as your lungs struggle to refill.

“Our family, at least the cool people in our family, have a bet going that Minseok has a wife and two kids in hiding or that he is a celibate monk. I bet that he hasn’t found the right one. Now move, so I can prove I was right and win the bet.” He tries to shove you to the side, but you dig your heels in and refuse to budge. “Come on.” He whines, pulling his bottom lip up into a pout.

“If you want me to move, then you had better use your magic because this is already ridiculous enough.” Fortifying yourself for the oncoming attack, you blink in surprise when Johnny steps back with a shrug.

“I don’t need to. I can ask Minseok about it when he comes back here.” He returns to the cauldron. The potion has turned a putrid shade of green, and Johnny hisses as he tries to fix the problem.

Staying would provide you valuable knowledge, but Minseok has yet to approve your assistance with the brewing. Staying also means you would witness the next installment of this non-thrilling saga.

Minseok and your cousin are still talking when you exit the brewing room into the main area. They probably haven’t even realized how long you’ve been gone or that their conversation was almost interrupted by an overly inquisitive mind.

“There’s a free table over there.” You bust into the middle of a conversation about magical vs. non-magical cleaning products.

“Right.” Your cousin looks to you, then back to Minseok. “It was very nice talking with you.” Her smile stretches across her face. “Maybe we could talk more later.”

Minseok’s smile is more subdued than your cousin’s, but it’s more than what you witness on a typical Tuesday. “Yes, I would like that.”

“Minseok.” Johnny’s head pops out of the brewing room. “I need your help with something.” The stench of rotten fruit leaks through the open door. Minseok mutters a quick apology before disappearing into the brewing room.

You take a seat at the free table, a smug smile on your face. Your cousin is slower to take her seat, her smile still in place. “Is this really the first time you’ve met Minseok?” You ask when she finally settles in her seat.

“Yes,” she answers though her eyes remain on the brewing room door. “He had already graduated when I started high school. I heard about him from the upperclassmen, but they did not do him justice. He is one fine man.”

“Gross. Can you take your thirsty ass and get out of my place of work?”

“You work in a coffee shop, a place where thirsty people are literally supposed to come.” She quips back, finally glancing at you.

“Please, people don’t come to cafes because they’re thirsty. They come to work, socialize, or take aesthetic photos, and maybe sometimes for caffeine.”

Before she can formulate a rebuttal, the bell above the front door jingles, and in walks the reason for your cousin’s visit. In your disgust, you had forgotten the threat to your job. Panic races through your veins as your attention shifts to the counter. You wish for all the luck in the world, but luck abandons you. Instead of Johnny coming to greet the new customer, Minseok emerges once again. Habit controls him as he smiles and gives the customary greeting. Only after the last word leaves his mouth does recognition register in his eyes.

"Yuri." The name is a question and a greeting.

The hedge-witch tilts her head a fraction of a degree in the semblance of a nod. "Minseok." She returns the greeting. You wait - breath held, heart racing - for the coming altercation.

"Kyungsoo's been looking for you. He seems to be worried about something. Is everything okay?"

"You can mind your own damn business." She huffs, her arms crossing over her chest.

You flinch, but Minseok chuckles. "I'm merely a messenger."

"Well messenger, you can tell Kyungsoo - and please make this verbatim - 'I'm fine. Thank you. You can suck my dick'."

Minseok jots the message down on his guest check book, glancing up at Yuri when he finishes. "Anything else?"

"No, that's all."

"Would you like to order anything?"

"Hell, no. I'm here to meet with someone." She glances around the shop.

You shrink down in your chair, hoping to avoid detection, but your cousin shreds that hope. She waves her hand, drawing both of their attention to you two. Minseok’s eyes rest on you for a moment before shifting to your cousin.

Yuri returns the wave as she walks to your table. "Hey Uko, sorry I'm late. The potion needed to brew a little longer this morning than I anticipated. I blame this muggy weather. It's messing with everything I make. Is this your cousin?" She nods to you as she plunks into the last of the three chairs at your table. Uko nods her head. "Nice to meet you."

"You might not think it's so nice. She works here."

A hiss slips out as Yuri shakes her head. "Why must the young always be corrupted?"

"Don't worry. I might not have a job for much longer." You sigh as you push yourself out of your chair. "Breaks over. I’ll find out soon enough if I do or not."

"Minseok might be an Essem, but he's not going to fire you because you have a connection to me.” Yuri assures you. “If he does though, let me know and I'll kick his ass." Yuri grins, showing all of her teeth, and you chuckle despite the anxieties waging war in your stomach.

Walking back into the brewing room, you grab your apron and slip it on while keeping your back to Minseok and Johnny. With a deep breath, you turn to face them. Johnny stands over the cauldron which is a deep forest green and simmering pleasantly. You breathe in the smell of strawberries and hope the happiness has rubbed off on Minseok who is standing beside Johnny and whispering instructions.

With a glance up, Minseok pats Johnny on the shoulder and walks towards you. Lifting leaden feet, you meet him by the door to the ordering counter.

A volley of words waits on your tongue, but they retreat when Minseok asks, “Can you give this to your cousin?” The “this” he is referring to is a folded scrap of paper.

You take the paper, nodding as you slip it into the back pocket of your jeans. “Sure. What is it?”

A small smile lifts his cheeks, and his voice is soft when he says, “My number.”

You choke on your response, and you can hear Johnny chuckling as you attempt to regain your breath. Minseok offers to get you a drink, but you wave off his concern. “What?” You finally manage to get out.

“I forgot to ask for your cousin’s number when we were talking.” He pouts. “I was hoping you would give her mine and tell her she can text me whenever.”

“Sure.” You pause before asking, “Should I go back to work now?”

“Of course.” His response is instantaneous and a flood of relief washes through you. “And thank you.” He adds, the corners of his mouth quirking up. With a nod, he returns to Johnny’s side.

Exiting the brewing room, you shake your head. On the plus side, you still have your job. On the negative side, your cousin might start dating your boss which may not be a complete negative but it definitely isn’t a positive.

#hmw #johnny #essem: rosemary by moonight #nct #johnny suh #johnny drabble #johnny drabbles #nct drabble #nct drabbles #g: fluff #johnny fanfiction #nct fanfiction #nct 127

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ts-unsolved · 5 years

Text

The night we met

((i got carried away imagining this scenario, so here’s the conversation that lead to dee joining aboard the Investigation Station))

Summary: On principle, Dee tries to not let his major life choices be ruled by what happens over highly-priced drinks in crummy bars, but flying too close to the sun that was his old college rival had never been part of the equation before.

Aka: Roman tries one last time to convince Dee to hunt ghosts with him, and he finally says yes. (Aka^2: can you believe Dee has been pining for two whole years? lmao get it together boi).

Content Warnings: Drinking, mentions of smoking, allusions to drug-dealing and generally shady/unsafe atmospheres, mild swearing, references to fights/stabbing/being killed, food descriptions/eating.

Word count: 2.4k – I am not the only traveler Who has not repaid his debt I’ve been searching for a trail to follow again Take me back to the night we met –

[February, 2015. Los Angeles, CA.]

With a languid roll of his wrist, Dee swirled the peach-colored liquid around his glass for what felt like the hundredth time since he had sat down at the round rickety table. Blame it on his keen intuition for arduous conversations, but he had not managed to settle his nerves since he and his companion had entered the dim and dusty bar, and something about the location they had found themselves in was only lending itself to his growing headache.

It wasn’t a secret that Roman’s family was loaded; Dee knew this for a fact, and yet out of all of the establishments in the city they could have gone to, the man had chosen such a lowkey place for them to meet. Perhaps in his mind the discrete look of the place was appropriate for a supposedly momentous conversation, although whatever grand idea Roman had of a ‘private business discussion’ definitely didn’t match the reality of what was going on in the shady establishment, all of which spoke of illegal activities with the subtlety of a glowing neon sign. From what he had already managed to discern from a quick glance, there were hands dealing under the tables, side-glances from couples locked in suspiciously hushed exchanges, not to mention the laundering scheme this place seemed to operate as a front for, barely even camouflaged under the displeasingly unkempt storefront with furniture that looked like it dated back to the 60′s and the pervasive smell of cigarette smoke to match.

Dee suppressed a grimace as he forced his attention away from surveying the landscape of the bar and back to the man sitting opposite him. By all means, this was the exact kind of place he would choose to hang out in if he were to catch up with some of his old high school friends, and yet being here with Roman Kingsley of all people somehow made him want to reevaluate the decisions that lead him to being in this clearly cursed timeline, because there had to have been a horribly wrong turn made somewhere.

As if sensing himself being at the center of Dee’s thoughts, Roman looked up from where he had been prodding at his unusually soggy plate of nachos (“…I was hungry, though I’m not so sure I am anymore.”), and shot Dee an unguarded twist of a smile. It was the kind of expression Roman clearly wasn’t used to wearing; which was to say that it was less of his usual brand of over-compensated arrogance and more hopeful uncertainty. Dee stared blankly back, being struck with a realization as he took in the figure that was bathed under the terrible lighting of the bar:

‘Ah. One way or another, this guy is going to be the death of me.’

Surprisingly, the thought didn’t perturb him as much as it should have. Sure, being mugged and/or stabbed in the alley out back because he had willingly accompanied this walking hotspot of disaster to one of the more dangerous parts of the city wasn’t exactly ideal, but in all honestly it didn’t feel like it would be much of a surprise for him to meet his end in such a dumb and grisly way. Of course, with his baby snake waiting for him back home he was hardly looking for trouble, and especially not at the expense of somebody he didn’t even send Christmas cards to. Even so, his gut told him that dead or alive, he wouldn’t be walking out of this bar without a semblance of trouble following him; a prospect he wasn’t sure if he found exhilarating or exhausting.

And so there the situation currently was, in an uneasy limbo. With a sigh, he pushed his nagging thoughts to the back of his mind for the moment and took a sip of his drink, finding brief refuge in the sugary film that coated his mouth and the back of his throat.

Roman tracked the glass with his eyes as it was set against the table and quirked his lips in that infuriatingly smug expression only the two of them could truly pull off. “I didn’t take you for a mocktail kind of guy. Lost your edge over the years?”

Dee simply raised an eyebrow in response. It wasn’t a surprise that Roman remembered his delinquent past, what was a surprise was how this was apparently not a determining factor in eliminating Dee as a potential co-worker given the goody-two-shoes friends the other loved to hang around. “What can I say? In my wise age, I’ve learned to value substance over a cheap high. I’d have assumed you’d have shared that viewpoint given our similar tastes for the unconventional, and yet...” He gestured to the very stereotypically masculine pint that sat in front of Roman, not untouched and yet not being attended to either. Roman scowled in response, more at the menu than at him.

“Normally I’d agree with you, but despite what you think, I don’t actually have the money to drop on overcharged garbage like some kind of idiot. I mean, look: the Merlot is $50 here, Dee. $50. For Merlot. That is borderline criminal!”

For a moment, the air in the bar stilled. Dee soon realized that Roman’s voice had gotten a tad too loud and wow he really did not want to get beaten up because this pipsqueak couldn’t figure out what the exchange of dirty money looked like even when it was staring him in the face. Time to move the subject along to something less contentious, because he really did not like the way the dead-eyed look the bartender was giving them.

“Please, you only have yourself to blame for your poor judgement calls. We’re not here to have a lovely evening out though, are we? Let’s just cut to the chase already.”

Roman simmered down with a click of his tongue, pausing to pick up a tortilla chip and eat it, only to look disappointed by the lack of crunch. Nevertheless, as asked, he dropped all pretenses of small talk.

“You read my text, then? Have you thought your decision though any more?”

There it was, the million dollar question. While he had been acting nonchalant about the matter ever since Roman had first approached him with his offer, the truth was that he had been weighing the pros and cons of this decision for days now, to no end. Remus, that absolute bastard that he was, was probably having a real laugh at his expense right now, knowing fully well the position he had put his old pal in by pointing Roman's attention his way. Perhaps a little payback on Remus’ end was warranted for their less-than-stellar parting conversation, although Dee couldn’t help his ire at his friend (ex-friend? frenemy?) for setting him up for this infuriating no-win scenario. Years ago he, young and foolish, had hoped that Roman would have dropped his inane obsession with the paranormal by college graduation, but given his current predicament it seemed he had underestimated the tenacity of Remus’ brother. Time to test the waters of that commitment, he supposed.

“About the wacky little ghost show you’ve been raving about since the dawn of time? Can’t say you’ve really sold me on it. I am a rather busy guy, you know; I can’t just drop everything for a show pitch I’m not even convinced on.”

This was a slight twist of the truth. He had been between jobs for months, a lack of inspiration and not being able to stand his bosses and coworkers being the reason he just can’t seem to stick to one place. He had long-since given up on his dream of going into show business, so for a long time he had settled on just doing what he could to maintain a living. It wasn’t a fulfilling way to live, but he was surviving, and that was all that mattered.

Nevertheless, Roman was not thrown by the negative response and instead puffed out his chest in a show of indignation. Clearly he would not be taking no for an answer without a fair fight, which likely spelled bad news for how this evening was going to go. “It’s not ‘wacky’, it’s a serious show for serious investigations! I’m really trying to prove the existence of ghosts here.”

“Right…” Dee squinted his eyes skeptically. “And you are aware that I don’t believe in ghosts, yes?”

“Obviously. Did you think I missed the three years of you being a dick about it?”

Ah, memories. Dee didn’t bother to hide his amusement at Roman’s grumbling. “My my, you’re still holding a grudge about that? Here I thought my depiction of Hamlet’s father was enough to wipe the slate clean. Didn’t it please you to see your greatest enemy play one of the spooky creatures you like so much?”

Rather delightfully, frustration gave way and the corners Roman’s eyes crinkled with the beginnings of mirth before he quickly hid the expression away by shoving another chip into his mouth. It was the kind of reaction Dee was still growing used to seeing from their back-and-forths, not quite being sure when their exchanges of teasing remarks had crossed the line into something more friendly. That said, it was certainly not an unpleasant development; in some senses, it felt rather rewarding to catch a glimpse of something less refined behind a curtain of perfectionism, much like seeing the behind-the-scenes of a broadway production.

“Oh don’t get me wrong, you really did give an excellent performance. I can still remember act one scene five like it was yesterday. 'Tis given out that, sleeping in my orchard, a serpent stung me; so the whole ear of Denmark is by a forged process of my death’!” Roman dramatically reenacted the performance, hand pressed to his heart, and Dee preened under the praise.

“Why thank you. The dull lead was quite a letdown, though we certainly outdid ourselves in spite of the poor casting, didn’t we? Still, I can’t say that flattery will convince me to hunt ghosts with you or... whatever it is you were hoping for. The point still stands that it’s not exactly the sort of thing I’ve ever pictured putting on my resume.”

Roman’s smile faltered and he cleared his throat awkwardly. Without the comfort of dancing around their thoughts with friendly banter, things got uncomfortably serious a tad too quickly, it seemed.

“I get that it’s... not ideal to you, considering how you always had high aspirations for your career, and a webshow is probably too low on the radar for your pompous-self. Heh... To be honest, I’m not sure why Remus thought you’d be a good candidate for the job,” Wow, rude. “But he did, and I’m kind of out of options here.”

Roman paused, the buzz of bar filling the silence between them as he clearly struggled to speak what was on his mind.

“Actually, the more I think about it, I can’t come up with anyone else I’d like to join more than you. You’d be a great host! You’re good at talking to crowds when you want to, you know how to improv, you’re one of the funniest people from our class, and as much as I hate to admit it, I always enjoyed acting with you on stage-”

At some point during Roman’s rant, Dee’s brain short-circuited with the words, and even as he tried to process they just kept on coming, to his absolute befuddlement.

“-And I guess I feel like you’d co- ...Hey, phantom of the opera, are you even listening to me?! I’m pretty much singing your praises here, which let me tell you, is rare for me, and you’re staring off into space! If you’re that disinterested, you should just say so.”

“Sorry. I was paying attention, I just...”

Dee scrunched his eyes shut as he tried to work through what Roman had said. Maybe it shouldn’t be such a shock to hear the compliments coming from someone he regarded as being an equal in terms of talent, yet part of him still screamed at him that it was only empty flattery to sway his decision. Sure enough, while it may be true that his cynicism had never failed him in the past, he still yearned to ignore the knee-jerk judgment and choose the better option, the one which meant that he was considered the first choice for something and his presence was wanted. Unbelievably, even to himself, he found himself tempted, if only by the warmth that came from such a thought. Perhaps if he was without the greater knowledge that he had, he would have jumped at the opportunity in a heartbeat, however the fact still remained that he was tired and worn from years of strife. At this point in his life, self-preservation was the only thing keeping him going, and so the idea of leaving the peaceful bubble he had built up itched like nothing else. But then, his thoughts drifted back to what could happen, of letting down Remus who had obviously entrusted him in this, despite everything they had gone through.

He truly must be growing soft, if he was willingly jumping out of the frying pan and into the fire.

(And was that so bad, to try to feel some warmth again?)

Begrudgingly, he opened his eyes to Roman’s concerned face.

“...Alright. Perhaps flattery does get you some places. With such a compelling argument, how could I possibly say no?” He drawled, as nonchalantly as he could possibly muster.

Already flustered by his decision to agree so readily, he picked up his overly-sugary drink as a means to avoid eye-contact, though when seconds passed with no audible response, his focus still ended up being drawn to the other man for his reaction. Roman’s eyes were as wide as dinner plates and simultaneously filled with joy; despite the muddy brown of the lighting that had washed out his features into a pool of shadows, they looked as if they were sparkling.

Dee felt the wind knocked out of him at having that expression pointed towards him. It seemed like it had been so long since somebody had been brought that much happiness because of something he did. This...wasn’t a terrible feeling, he decided in that moment.

“That wasn’t sarcasm, was it? You really want to join?!” Roman just about yelled, drawing back the eyes of a few of the other patrons. Dee chuckled nervously, wondering how he could get them out of the building as swiftly as possible without causing further ruckus. If they would be working together, the last thing they needed was to get into a fist-fight, after all.

“I do. Please don’t make me regret my decision.”

In return, he was given a beaming smile, one that equally eased his uncertainties and spoke of future trouble.

“You won’t, I promise.”

#answered #Chapter 1: Settling #written responses #janus sanders #roman sanders #roceit #((or at least you have dee being Soft and Gay))#((can you tell i haven't written in many moons? ghjdhfjs))

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ahmedmootaz · 4 years

Note

For the writing, How about some fluff between Donald and the kids? :)))

Dear Anonymous,

Hello! I did it! Hah! Take that, laziness, I wrote the thing someone requested!...Yeah, sorry about that. The whole delay. Both to you and to everyone who kindly sent me requests. As said before, short things aren’t my style, so I hope you enjoy this!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/26468854

Do share your thoughts with me, if you would so kindly do that. I like receiving feedback.

Oh and for those of you that don’t want to go to Archive Of Our Own, here’s the magical Read More button:

Ah, McDuck Manor. It was a wonderful place, really. Its rooms were almost endless, the hallways spanned on for miles, and the collection of mostly lethal items and antiques that got expanded every other day certainly made it unique in a sense. It was where Donald Duck had spent most of his childhood, and it was often a pretty, if empty place.

Perhaps this was how monarchs envisioned their castles. Spotless, massive, elegant. Or perhaps this was...this was...oh, forget it! He wasn't good at descriptions anyway. What mattered was that this manor was large, expansive, eye-pleasing, and basically was everything Donald never had for the last twelve or so years. Though it was rather lonely at times.

Not the current times, however, as now it was privy to the footsteps of little paddles running around in it all the time, and Donald couldn't be happier about it. After all, who wouldn't be happy seeing his favourite little nephews running around happily in their new home? He still used his house-boat, admittedly for no real reason other than how hard he worked to get it, but the children were more than happy to stay in their new home, a castle in comparison to where they lived before.

Of course, Donald didn't get to see the kids much these days, what with their mother returning and all. He still couldn't believe it. Twelve years. Twelve years stuck on the moon because of a giant termite just had to rattle a dust storm. He honestly had to admire his sister's ability to not murder the thing and whatever hellspawn it had the moment she could. He would've. Maybe. Probably. He was still prone to fits of rage, but he felt the rage would've been justified at that moment.

Disregarding that, it was truly miraculous how the triplets loved Della so much. Duh, she was their mother, but they never saw her for twelve years. Not one single time. To them, she was the ghost they never asked questions about or he'd just remain silent and give whoever asked a glare. He truly feared that they may never get used to her as family. Luckily, however, a few near-death experiences and some adventures later, they learned to love her as what she truly was: Their mother.

At first, it alleviated some stress off of him, but then he realized he still needed to remain as mentor, not to the children, but to Della. She was doing a fine job, learning when to discipline and when to let things pass, but he still had to intervene to stop her from convincing Huey that crossing a piranha-infested river wasn't all that dangerous.

Still, whatever critiques he gave Della, his beloved sister had grabbed the boys' attention for the time being. He couldn't blame them; both as someone new and the person they longed for their entire lives, she was certain to outshine Donald as the parental-figure for the moment, something that he absolutely had no issues with. No issues at all. Nuh-uh. What, was he fifteen? He could handle being outside the lime light for a few weeks. Months. Whatever it took.

-"Yep...no issues whatsoever...", he mumbled to himself, listening to his distorted voice as it plopped unceremoniously with no echo. He was sitting in his house-boat's living room, situated in Scrooge's pool. He had to swallow quite a bit of ego to bring the boat this far, not because it necessitated Scrooge's help, oh no, that was the easy bit. The difficult bit was seeing the fact that his uncle's swimming pool was bigger than the boat he struggled to purchase.

Well, whatever. He could handle that. He handled many other situations that jabbed at his ego and you didn't see him crying. Not on the outside, anyway. He tapped rhythmlessly on the couch he sat on, sighing as he did so. Today was a slow day. A very slow day. No adventures, nothing that needed fixing, and Della seemed like she wasn't intent on putting herself in a life or death scenario, oddly enough. He was supposed to be happy about that, but honestly, it just bored him to death.

It wasn't as if the kids somehow left him and only sent him greeting cards, either. They, alongside Webby, saw him everyday, talked with him, but somehow...he felt like a third wheel. He didn't want to force himself in, but even if he wanted to, what would he do? He never had to go to the kids, they always went to him. He was watching something on his T.V. and trying to focus on it. It wasn't Ottoman Empire, surprisingly enough, it was something about...Uh...The African Penguin's migration to the island of Mayotte to save the world from the evil Lepoard Seals...? He rechecked the program. Ah. It was a movie. And here he was thinking it was a documentary.

Donald was a fan of movies. He really was. But today, he wanted to move and do something. Anything He thought about that last sentence for a split-second before deciding he'd do anything that isn't life threatening. Last thing needed was for Scroo- sorry, Unca' Scrooge to somehow read his mind and send him down the Mariana Trench to search for some old treasure. He still needed to remember that he was living with his uncle again, and as such, politeness was due. Even in thought, because you never know when you'll think out-loud.

Knock Knock KNOCK!

He suddenly jumped. Well, not quite, he still ended up on the couch again, but he turned off the television, wondering if Mrs.Beakly was going to tell him he accidentally put an omelette on the mansion's cooker and then headed for his house-boat. He really didn't need to spend the afternoon putting out a fire before it reaches some mysterious artefact that shouldn't be touched. Not again. But at least it'll be something to do. He took a few quick steps, turned his door knob and opened it as quick as he could.

-"What is it, Mrs.Beakl-", he started, having thoroughly convinced himself that this was the situation before noticing nobody was in front of him.

-"Down here, Unca' Donald!", huh. How odd. She lost height and lost her deeper tone. He moved his head down, suddenly realizing the past conclusion was probably made by some part of his brain that decided intelligence is for losers. The red hues immediately told him all he needed to know. It was Huey, accompanied by Webby, an overexcited smile on her face and her eyes practically glowing. She was cute, but also...unnerving?

-"Oh, Huey.", he brought a hand to his forehead, suddenly feeling very relieved he was not going to spend an afternoon putting out a fire. "What brings you here? Do you need more information on the Marines? The Navy?", he asked, bringing a smile to his beak.

Admittedly, his time in the Navy was cut short because his sister suddenly disappeared into space, swallowed by the unknown dark abyss, and so he never really got to experience most of the...fun action the Navy got itself into these days. Still, he had enough knowledge to satiate Huey's thirst for information, and Webby's too, if the way her pupils dilated was any proof. He felt smug; he still had it in him.

-"Well, not really, I needed some help inside the mansion. I need someone to hold me some test subjects so that I can confirm whether or not the temporal anomalies the building sustained throughout the time changed the surrounding gravity or not. It would certainly explain why I've been having difficulties with liquids far more often now.", the younger Duck started, losing himself in an explanation that Donald tried to simplify into simpler terms. Huey's intelligence was most certainly gained from his mother's side. It wasn't that Donald was dumb, per say, it's that Huey was smart. Too smart for any duck his age.

-"Okay then.", the older Duck replied, happy to be of help. He took a few steps forward, closing the door behind him. Expecting a nod of acknowledgement from Huey, it was Webby instead who started speaking.

-"Hello Mr.Duck Unca' Donald sir!", she jumped in front of him, somehow managing to stick the landing and continue on walking backwards. Donald loved Webby. He truly did, as any responsible adult would love a girl her age with such a bubbly personality, but he couldn't ever shake off the feeling that there was something a little...off in her. He always shrugged it off as her superior training, and so he did at this instant. He wasn't one to make the poor girl feel alien, she already had difficulty with everyone else. "While we're on our way to test the stability of the mansion, do you mind telling me what the world's greatest adventurer did in the Navy? How many bad guys did you beat up? Did you have to stop Glomgold or Magica in the Navy? Did you fire guns? Are dreadnoughts still in action?", she shot question after question at the overwhelmed sailor as they entered the massive house.

-"Well...uh...I mean, they still have battleships. We don't have dreadnoughts.", he began, following Huey to the triplets' room. "As for my work...I had training. Aim-improvement firing sessions. I think I had an encounter or two with those chumps in The Navy, but it didn't really change anything; they still lost, after all.", he boasted, taking in Webby's amazed glare as he entered Huey's room, having gone up the stairs that lead to it.

-"Alright Unca' Donald, hold this tube for me, alright? Tell me if anything happens to the water inside it.", the cap-wearing duckling handed the former-sailor a tube of water. He was expecting it to be a bit more...interesting, but as he stared at it, he found nothing. Just a tube of water. "Now this could take anywhere from an hour to two, so if you think you can't do it-"

-"What? Pffft, of course I can do it! I can do anything!"

-"That's mom's catchphrase.", a lazy voice announced from his bed. It would've made Donald jump had he not been used to it. It did, however, ruin his dramatic affirmation.

-"Well, yes, but since I'm her twin, I have the right to use half of the things she says, Louie.", his uncle answered, not without some dignity. The hoodie-wearing duckling slowly rose from his bed, laying his laptop beside him as he stared at the sight unfolding in front of him.

-"Do you have legal documents for that? Because I believe you may have just broken a copy-right agreement, which could allow one to sue for monetary compensation...", of course, con-man that he is and trying to be sharper than the sharpies ever since Unca' Scrooge told him he can be, would find a method to make money out of this. Well, he was certainly impressive, Donald gave him that. In fact, every one of his nephews was impressive in his own way. But Donald also had methods to impress people.

-"Your mother still doesn't know why the gas pipes exploded two weeks ago.", he bluntly stated, and yet his nephew kept a wide, if forced smile.

-"Yep, that'll be all the documents I need. By the way, do you really want to teach your cute little nephews how to blackmail?!", he obliged, feigning shock at the end of his sentence.

-"Louie, I have literally learnt how to blackmail from you. Also, isn't it blackmail if you threaten me with a lawsuit for a catchphrase? I don't really think that has much legal basis.", came the reply, shutting down the last argument the cunning duck could hold onto.

-"Yeah, okay, fair point.", and that was that. For the moment, anyways, Louie would always fund something to argue with, and Donald would just have to find a counter-argument. Somehow. It has gotten a bit difficult these days, but Donald loved a good challenge. Well, actually, he didn't, but he dealt with them all the same.

-"Any new results, Huey?", the perky, energetic voice of Webby asked as she ran around, fixing some tubes and...balls attached to ropes? It was only now that he realized how unconventional the contraptions Huey set up looked. It was basically gears, nails, and various building materials cobbled up together to make a sort of...measuring device? And that was the least worrying one; the entire room was filled with makeshift machines of all shapes and sizes.

-"Nothing yet...If you could steady your hands Unca' Donald, that'd be great.", he said absently, prompting Donald to turn the tube in his hand a few centimeters. Well, he went from doing nothing and watching T.V. to doing nothing while watching his nephews. That had to amount to something.

-"Wow, you're really just going to stand there for Huey so he can prove that it wasn't his super shaky hands that made him spill the milk this morning, aren't you?", the smugly lazy voice of Louie called out, now under Donald. He'd heard him going down from his bed.

-"My hands are *NOT* shaky, Louie!", the older triplet yelled, outraged by such preposterous claims.

-"Okay, Doctor Butterfingers.", his sibling teased, keeping a neutral face. Donald knew that was what got to Huey; the teasing, he could somewhat handle, but Louie's lack of expressions simply made his mockery get to Huey more easily. Luckily for the inhabitants of Duckburg, Duck War One-Thousand and Whatever could wait, as Donald was there to interfere. For now.

-"Actually, I will. It's a bit unwieldy, but I'll do it for the greater good!", there. A nice, dramatic statement, that should prevent the 'Do you really want to say that' ultimatum. Man, he really had to be a diplomat someday.

-"I don't think you'll call it the greater good when Huey realizes he just has butterfingers.", the little schemer whispered to his uncle, and suddenly, a very dark future flashed in front of his eyes. Well...all in time, he supposed. "Still, I guess you must really have one heckuva patience to just keep holding this tube.", he continued, this time a bit louder before adding under his breath 'uselessly'.

-"Well, yes, I am the most patient person in the world, no? I couldn't dream of starting fights with even the most annoying of people.", the older duck proudly claimed before making an expression that clearly told Louie to shut up about the four-digit number of times he lost his temper. It was better than being five-digits, at least.

-"Yeah, yeah, whatever.", the green-wearing duckling dismissed without second thought before picking up his sentence. "Still, I guess the mad scientist over there has reason to trust you; you are pretty reliable."

-"Aw, Louie-"

-"Extremely reliable in fact!", Huey intruded on their chat, lifting his head from the calculations he was calculating. "I mean, really. Unca' Donald was there for us the entire time; remember that one time in the house-boat when the plumbing stopped working all of sudden and you tried going to the-"

-"Please, for the love of all that is Holy, remember any other time I was useful. Just not....that!", the once-calm sailor begged, his voice filled with dread and his eyes going blank. Well, that's untrue; he still had pupils, but he just wasn't...there. Lost in his flashbacks. The Great Toiletening. The horror.

-"Oh, right...forgot that we don't talk about it...well, either way, all I'm saying is that we really do appreciate what you do! Even if we never really talk about it. Or thank you.", the smarter duckling reflected, bringing a hand to his beak.

-"Well, it's the thought that counts!", Webby chimed in, positive as always. She was right. To an extent. A lot. Okay, maybe she was right, but Donald didn't have to let her know. He wasn't a mind reader, and so he appreciated whenever people spoke their mind to him.

-"I mean, yeah, she's got a point, doesn't she, Unca' Donald?", ah, Louie. Every time Donald thinks he cannot get any more smug, he goes and proves him wrong. "But I guess I should say thanks for everything. Even though you didn't buy me that self-refiling can of Pep Gyro offered...Hey!", he objected as his uncle ruffled his head-feathers with his free hand, a smile on his beak.

-"It was going to go evil and try to strangle us in our sleep and you know that.", he bluntly stated, keeping his smile.

-"I still think it was worth a shot.", the con-man replied, moving towards the room's door. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have a new method of getting richer than Uncle Scrooge, and I'll be accomplishing it by six in the evening.", he declared, opening the door to a beaten Dewey. "Dewey.", he nodded, passing by him.

-"Louie.", his brother nodded in return, waiting for him to close the door behind him. He looked horrible; a few scratches scattered on his face, his feathers were pointing in all directions, and his left eye felt less...firm than the other. "How much to you guys want to bet we'll have to save Louie from a demon or something by six?", he asked, pointing with a thumb to the door behind him.

-"What on earth happened to you, Dewey?! It's not even three in the afternoon and you look like you crawled out of the grave!", Donald yelled, heading over to the energetic duckling, almost spilling the water in the tube. "Are you okay? Can you see with your left eye? Did you disinfect the wounds?", he shot question after another, trying to judge the severity of the injuries with his free hand.

-"Yeah! What happened to you, Dewey?! Don't you know that the demon-scheme was last week? This week it's the 'Try-to-trick-a-rich-man-scheme'! We'll probably have to discuss some silly law-whatchamacallit with a bunch of angry lawyers by five at most!", Webby happily corrected him, looking just a teeny bit oblivious to Donald's source of worry here.

-"I'm fine, Unca' Donald. It's nothing big, mom was just...y'know. Doing mom stuff. Teaching me how to fight with the wilderness of the forest. It's no biggie.", the daring duck tried to deflate his uncle's worries, waving his hand nonchalantly, as if this was some regular occurrence he had to deal with. He failed.

-"Your mother took you to fight the wilderness?!", he repeated, grabbing his nephew's shoulder with his spare hand and trying to keep the other tube balanced.

-"Oh, come on, Unca' Donald, it's just basic stuff to learn!", he argued back, trying to shrug his shoulder before he winced from the act with an 'Ow!'.

-"Wha- Is your shoulder hurt? Did you encounter bears? How did you fight them?", he kept asking, barely giving the self-proclaimed adventurer any time to breathe.

-"I-It's nothing, just a bad landing, that's all. I mean, we were fighting bears, wolves, and flying beavers with nothing but our wits and bravery, the Heros of the For-Hey!", he tried to finish his sentence, only to be dragged by the sailor to his bed and forced to sit on it.

-"Oh, what am I ever going to do with your mother!", he grumbled, taking the first-aid kit they kept under the bed for emergency situations and trying to manipulate it with his one hand. "She just...she just thinks it's some jolly old fun to bring you over like it's nothing! Like you'll just bounce back from a fifty-meter jump and be okay!", he kept ranting himself as he took out some bandages and started unpacking them before heading to Dewey and starting to cover his wounds.

-"Heeeey! I told you I was fine, Unca' Donald.", the duckling huffed, unable to resist his uncle's medical aid as he kept putting bandages wherever he could reach. "And...Mom's trying her best, you know. No reason to get all mad, y'know...", he added, looking both offended and embarrassed.

-"I know she is.", Donald softly mumbled, putting the last of the bandages. Dewey's face wasn't too far from a mummy at this point. "It's just...sometimes her best isn't the best for everyone, and it's not her fault but...I'd rather you don't get mauled by a bear, Dewey.", he explained, taking a step back and paying attention not to let the tube in his hand tilt. Last thing he needed was to stand there again holding a tube full of water because the first one got spilled.

-"Yeah...me too, I guess.", he conceded, rubbing his arm and trying to chuckle. Donald responded in kind, trying to make his nephew be more at ease. "But she's so cool whenever she does it. How she kicked that bear and then it just turned over and winced in pain.", he dreamily recounted, looking to the ceiling before coming back to reality.

-"She kicked a bear and it just turned over?", Donald repeated, baffled; he knew his sister was strong, but weren't bears made for fighting harsh fights? Layers of fat and all that?

-"Well, I didn't get to see the fight in all its glory, but all I saw was that she flipped over the bear, managed to go behind him, and then she...kicked...", the young adventurer clenched his fists, enthusiastically recalling what his mother did until the realization dawned on all of them. 'Oooooh', was all he and Donald could say for a minute.

-"I don't understand. What did she do?", Webby asked, tilting her head as she carried some machines around the room.

-"O-Oh, it's nothing, Webby. Nothing at all.", he was lying through his teeth. Donald knew she knew. But as long as he wasn't the one who needed to tell her, all was going to be fine. "Ahem...Regardless of her strategies, you're not going to be your mother in one day, Dewey. De-, uh, sorry, your mom is an extremely talented person, but she also...slips. She needed years of broken bones, internal injuries and other injuries to reach where she is now. All I'm saying is that you can learn it all from her the easy way without breaking your neck. I know, not very fun to you,", he paused to add under his breath 'somehow', getting a glare from Dewey, "But it's what I think is better. You don't have to prove anything to us, you know.", he finished both talking and applying some extra bandages, looking at his nephew.

-"I can't promise anything; I can and probably will dew anything.", the blue-shirted duck began, receiving a sigh, "But it makes enough sense. I guess I don't have to be the star of every adventure, but...eh. Maybe I can sit back sometimes. The world needs a break from my awesomeness from time to time.", he finished, flashing his titular proud smile and forcing Donald to hold a smile, making the former's smile drop a bit. Oh, the world needed a break from Dewey alright. Just not for those reasons.

-"Yeah, Unca' Donald has a point, mom means well, but a bear's teeth are stronger than good will.", Huey added, though almost absently as he kept tinkering with the various machines throughout the room and re-reading his notes, as proven by his late response. "This just...this just...It doesn't add up! NONE of these numbers add up! The conclusion...it's wrong! Incorrect! It...It...", he yelled, almost unable to form a coherent sentence at the end. Oh, no. He was going into another rush of his. "Show me the tube, Unca' Donald!", he ordered as he made his way over to his older relative, who tried to remain calm. He did not succeed too well.

-"Uh, Webby? Did...did Huey take some sugar? What's going on in here?", Dewey asked the enthusiastic young duckling, who followed Huey to the triplets' bed.

-"Oh, it's nothing. Huey's been researching the surrounding gravity of the mansion to make sure it didn't change gravity or anything after it nearly got destroyed a couple dozen of times with us inside it!", clenching her fists and raising them to the air, her enthusiasm would've been infectious if Huey didn't look on the brink of a meltdown.

-"Riiiiight...", the blue-shirted triplet processed as his brother practically ripped the tube from his uncle's hand. "And he's doing this becauuuuse...?"

-"Oh, well, he spilled his milk this morning.", she immediately answered, reflecting on her words. "Yeah, not the best incentive, but it's for the greater good!", she confidently boasted, turning to her research-partner. "Right, Huey?"

-"The...The water's okay? How is it okay?! WHY IS IT OKAY?! I NEED TO KNOW!", said research partner was currently yelling at a tube of perfectly okay water, as any great man in history did. His eyes bulged and he ground his beak, looking ever so close to that breaking point.

-"Uh...Listen, Huey, I wasn't there this morning...but is a spilled milk cup really worth all of...this? Your hand probably just slipped. I spilled my milk last week, too.", well, that wasn't exactly true, but Donald didn't have to let them know that he mixed up which hand was holding the cup and which one was holding the brush. In his defence, he'd just woken up and...yeah, that was the only thing he could say for himself.

-"No, you don't understand! I've been pouring myself a glass of milk every morning for three years! I mastered a technique of holding the bottle and the cup for three years! What if I needed this technique for a dangerous artefact...or...or...Or maybe so Scrooge's keys don't fall down a drain! What if I needed to fly a plane with this knowledge and it fails me like it did now?!", ah, how Donald loved Huey's rants. He was just so passionate about the things he did. If there wasn't a chance of him picking up a knife or some other dangerous object and going around on rampage with it, he'd have encouraged him to do it more. No pent up feelings and all that jazz. It was also threatening that his left hand had a screwdriver that looked just a bit too sharp to be waved around.

-"Well...when the time comes to that, you'll come up with a solution. I know you will.", he smiled encouragingly, making his ranting nephew look at him and eyeing the screwdriver in his hand. "But sometimes, a glass of milk is just that. A glass of milk. There's no bigger meaning behind it most of the time and you don't need to beat yourself over it.", he argued, slightly snapping Huey out of his momentary madness. "And that's uncle Scrooge to you, Huey."

Well, yes, there were times when knowing how to play the guitar saved him and his family, and screwing that up would've killed them all, but in the end, you need to prepare yourself mentally for when the time comes, and not by beating yourself for every small or big mistake. There are times for that, but this was certainly not one of them. Donald would know. He did it as an emo teenager. Man, he missed those days. Why did going emo fall out of fashion?! It's all about gothic movements these days, and he wasn't about those clothes.

-"I...Yeah, you're right.", the mad-scientist in Huey gave the wheel back to his rational self. Thank goodness. No new paint-coats for this screwdriver. "Sometimes a glass of milk is just that. Milk.", he repeated, taking the tube out of his uncle's hand and letting the water fall. "Thanks, unca' Donald. I needed that. Don't know what came over me there for a moment.", he too smiled, allowing the houseboat sailor to pat his shoulder.

-"Bah, don't sweat it, Huey! We all had this moment when we went on an insane scientific adventure to prove something that's probably unreal because we...uh...Yeah, I can't dig myself out of that one.", Webby admitted, slumping near the end of her sentence as she suddenly looked a bit tired. Helping Huey all day on his quest probably wasn't the easiest thing to do today. The quadro of ducks shared a laugh.

-"C'mere, Huey.", the older duck held his arms out, allowing his nephew to nestle in for a hug. He gestured to the two other ducklings.

-"GROUP-HUG!", taking advantage of the situation, Webby grabbed Dewey's arm and threw the both of them onto the sailor, who felt the air get knocked out of him for a moment as the two ducklings slammed into his stomach. Regaining his breath, he wrapped his hands around the three duckling around him.

-"Okay that's enough.", Dewey was the first to pull out, never one for too much emotional content when he didn't need it. The other two slowly pulled out, looking satisfied.

-"Welp. I guess it's time to clean this mess up.", the former mad-scientist in Huey was now firmly dead, it seemed. He let out a sigh, looking at the various contraptions he had set up in the room.

-"Don't worry about it, Huey, we can help you out. Not like I'll be doing much like this, anyways...", his brother gave him a pat on his back, pointing with his other hand to the various bandages that covered his face.

-"And I can help you, too! I want to get back granny's knives and laser guns, you know.", the young Vanderquack chimed in, looking cheerful as always, but a bit more down-to-earth now that the experiment she was assisting in turned out to be a bust. She pointed at a strange device that was, surprise surprise, made with various knives and what looked to be laser guns tapped together. What was even the point of that thing? To look science-y?

-"Ah, goodie, I think I'll help, too.", Donald added, trying to encourage this little aide-circle. He didn't really want his nephews to live in what looked like a madman's dump, which...for a few hours, it was.

-"Actually...I think you'd better prepare to try and bail Louie out of a lawsuit.", Huey suggested, starting to pick up the papers and small machines that covered the floor.

-"Oh, come on, Huey, I'm certain Louie is smart enough to not get himself into much trouble!", even before the older Duck finished his answer, the room's occupants began laughing. Oh, what a scenario that would be. Louie, not getting himself into trouble while searching for fortune. What a joke. "Yeah, okay, you're probably right.", he finally concluded, heading to the room's door and opening it before turning his head back, "Now, if you kids need anything, you can tell me, alright?"

-"Yes, Unca' Donald.", the three ducklings replied in unison with their usual boredom to his patronising acts. Ah, how he loved that tone of theirs.

Closing the door behind him, Donald started going down the stairs, taking in a deep breath. Well. This wasn't really the way he thought he'd be spending his afternoon, but you know what? It wasn't like he was complaining. A small bonding session with the boys was as good as any, after all, and the little motivational speech at the end? Mhmmmm, peak uncle performance right there.

Good job, humble Donald, you did well. What, he was allowed some sort of internal pride, wasn't he? If Gladstone could do it externally because he's lucky, then he could feel some pride for being a good uncle. He hoped. Well, thinking about it now...a good uncle wouldn't have let Louie go get himself into trouble...Hmm...

Well, maybe he wasn't a perfect uncle, but with his uncle and sister promoting this adventurous life-style, there was only so much he could do. Besides, people learn when bad things happen to them. He just had to hope nothing too bad happens, which, luckily, it doesn't. Most times.

He shielded his eyes as he got out of the building and had his eyes blinded by the sun and thought back to the smiles Dewey, Huey, Louie and Webby gave him. What he would do to have them smile like this all the time. Take that, Della, today, Donald had won the...uh...race? The contest of who's a better parent-figure? Well...all of them were good parent-figures but...Oh, forget it! What mattered was that he felt he did something good today and that was it.

He basked in that feeling of pride for a moment, opening his houseboat's main door before noticing a small green figure running towards the mansion from an enraged older man. What worried Donald wasn't the situation; it was that whatever Louie did, it made this man, who couldn't have been any younger than eighty, manage to wake his dormant muscles.

Well, he thought, guess it's time for more uncle-business. Ooooh, that was good. Maybe he could make it a catchphrase and actually copy-right it.

Whenever he calmed this older gentleman, of course. He took a step forward, readied his mind, and mentally prepared to save Louie from a butt-kicking. Yep. Typical Tuesday, alright, and he couldn't be a happier uncle about it.

#ducktales #ducktales 2017 #donald duck #Huey Dewey and Louie #webby vanderquack #Milk murder attempts and bonding #we have it all

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