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dira333 · 3 months

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What's in a scarf - Matsukawa x Reader

A/N: Roommates to lovers, Miscommunication, Angst to Fluff

Requested by @notsochillnerd

The girl is pretty, with soft blond hair and chocolate brown eyes that are now peering up at you.

“Hi?” You ask, stomach swirling with emotion. What is she doing here? Who is she? And, more importantly, who is she to Mattsun?

“Hi,” she chirps, holding out her hand, “I’m Yachi Hitoka.”

Your voice wavers a little when you tell her your name, but if she notices, she doesn’t point it out.

“Do you- uh, are you waiting- do you want something to drink, or?”

“Mattsun should be out any second,” there’s a blush forming on her cheeks as she speaks. Your stomach drops. They must be close if she’s referring to him by his nickname as well. But, doesn’t almost everyone?

“Ah, well, I guess… Do you want some coffee?” You step into the kitchen just to get away from her and the implications of her. You’re still wearing your coat, but you don’t want to go back out where she’s standing.

You make coffee, more so to distract yourself than to offer her.

If only Mattsun would reappear from wherever he’s vanished too.

The universe grants you this wish much too readily for how deaf it has been to your begging in the last months.

You can hear the front door open, can hear Mattsun’s voice before you see him, or before he sees you.

“There you go, Hitoka-chan,” His voice is warm and filled with affection. When you turn to look at them, your stomach flips. Mattsun’s tying a scarf around the girl’s neck, the color a familiar turquoise. It’s the one he brought back from Seijoh, a custom-made accessory everyone bought. It had been a whim of the Captain in his third year and he’s insanely protective of the piece. To see it wrapped around some other girl's neck makes you choke. You turn back to your coffee, wishing with all your might that it trickles down faster. You need to get out of here.

“Oh,” Mattsun’s voice changes. If it had been warm like a cup of tea before, it’s now smooth and deep and sweet, like drinking molten chocolate. He calls your name.

“Oh, hey.” You turn around. His brows shoot up at the sight of your forced smile… Or maybe it’s the furrow of your brows that sets him off.

He’s next to you in two big steps. “You okay?” He asks and you nod instead of shaking your head.

You’re not okay. But he’s got a pretty girl waiting for him, a girl he willingly gives his scarf to, a girl that’s prettier and daintier and just not you.

“I’m fine, just tired. Are you going out?”

“Are you sure?” His hand moves but you step back before he can touch you. Something flickers over his face but you don’t dare to follow it. You turn back to the coffeemaker, fill the drink into your travel mug, and straighten again, presenting it to him like the solution to all of your problems.

“Well, I’ll be going. See you around. Yachi-chan,” You nod in her direction as you rush out of the apartment.

Actually, you had planned to stay home. You had been dreaming of a cozy evening on the couch all day, the thought of a movie night cuddled up with Mattsun the most heavenly thing. But this isn’t going to be happening. Not tonight, and not in a while, it seems.

And isn’t that just pathetic?

That you can’t even begin to unravel yourself from him, that your mind doesn’t allow the thought of “Not him!” but instead clings to the possibility of “Not now!”?

“Are you sure you’re not just overreacting?” Your older sister asks an hour later.

You’re sitting on a park bench outside of the library. This one has the best view, even more so now that the sun is beginning to set and below you, the city turns into a canvas of twinkling lights.

“I’m not overreacting!” You defend yourself immediately. “You know how much this scarf means to him.”

“Yeah, but it’s not the only one in existence. It could be Makki’s or belong to one of the other guys that were on his team.”

“But she was so pretty-” You begin, only to be interrupted by her sigh.

“Haven’t I told you enough times already that you don’t have to worry about that? You’re the only one who thinks you look like a troll.”

“I don’t think I look like a troll.”

“Listen,” your sister’s voice suddenly gets that specific tone that tells you to listen up and behave and you straighten without really wanting to, “You need to go back and talk to him. And if I’m wrong in this, which I am not, you can have that dress of mine you always want to borrow.”

“For real?”

“For real.”

The apartment is quiet when you enter.

A quick check confirms your suspicion, Mattsun isn’t home.

You busy yourself with doing the laundry and even get rid of a fat spider hiding next to the washing machine. As you take a picture of your confirmed kill, a habit you’ve grown into ever since you moved in with Mattsun, you can’t help but feel the sadness crawl into your bones again.

It’s comfortable, sharing a flat with him. He’s clean, organized and he always pays his bills on time. The only thing he brings home - besides discounted flowers from the funeral home - is Makki and you’ve long grown used to their humor, awful Karaoke session, and the occasional bout of drunken weirdness.

You send the picture anyway, even though you should have let it live. It would serve Mattsun right to stumble across it in the dead of night.

But still… How can one not fall in love with him? That’s a question you still have not found an answer to.

You resume your task, get back to folding the clean laundry, still warm from the dryer.

Something turquoise peaks out of the mess and you tug at it, half expecting it to be Mattsun’s old team jersey.

But it’s not.

It’s a scarf.

His scarf, you confirm. His mother stitched his first name into it because he kept coming home with more than one, never knowing which one was his.

Your heart stumbles as your mind tries its best to catch on.

If this is his scarf, then….

You must have fallen asleep, drained from feeling too many emotions in one single day. You blink against the dim light coming from the kitchen only to realize that there’s a warm hand cradling your cheek.

“Mattsun?” You ask and he hums low in his throat.

“Hey,” He mumbles, dragging his fingers through your hair, “Are you feeling well?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you try to push yourself up but he settles heavy on your legs, keeping you down.

“Stay, please?”

“I can barely see you,” you point out.

He laughs and maybe it’s the lack of vision that enhances your senses, makes his voice trickle over your skin like the touch of a feather.

“Maybe that’s for the best.”

You huff and cuddle back into the pillows. The Couch lacks the abundance of your bed, but it’s good enough. Something soft is curled around your right arm and you nuzzle into it, recognizing its telltale turquoise color a little too late.

“Ohmygod,” you gasp, trying to untangle yourself from the scarf as quickly as you can, “I’m so sorry.”

“No, it’s okay,” Mattsun’s hand is warm on your wrist. “It looked cute how you cuddled with it.”

Heat envelopes your face and you press your face into the scarf to hide from him.

You’re the master of lying to yourself, of letting insecurity overwhelm you, but even you have to acknowledge that this looks like more than friends.

It feels like more than friends too, has felt like that for months now.

Mattsun’s hand is on your back now, rubbing lazy circles into your skin. He seems to be comfortable sitting on your legs and maybe it’s that, this comfortableness and the fact that you can’t get away, that has you address what needs to be said.

“Mattsun?”

“Hmm?”

“Do you like Yachi-chan?”

“She’s nice,” he tells you quietly, “A little shy but she’s good for Kentaro.”

“Kentaro?”

“Mhm,” his hand stops for a second, “Did you not know-?”

You bite your lip, glad he can’t possibly see your face right now. But his voice is too soft when he speaks on. Either he’s able to see right through the thick fabric of his scarf or he knows you to well.

“Did you think I was dating Hitoka?”

“Maybe?”

His hand leaves your back. His weight leaves your legs. You try to swallow but only meet resistance.

Suddenly the room is flooded with brightness. You flinch back and blink into the light.

Mattsun’s in the door, hand still on the switch.

“I want you to see my face when I tell you this,” he declares with determination. “I’m in love with you.”

Your heart stops for a beat, only to resume it’s work with double the speed.

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely!” There’s a boyish grin on his face now as he kneels down in front of the couch and pulls your hands out from under the scarf. “Who else will kill all the spiders for me?”

“You’re an idiot!” You scoff, unable to hide your own grin now.

“But you love me, right?” He asks, peering up at you. “Right?”

You nod, unable to speak. But Mattsun understands anyway.

He eases the scarf from your hands and wraps it around your neck, pulling you close by the ends until there’s nothing but a breath keeping you apart.

“I’d love it if you kissed me now,” he teases.

So you do.

my Kofi if you want to tip me

#my writing #matsukawa x reader #matsukawa issei #mattsun x reader #mattsun #seijoh 4 #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu!!#haikyuu x you #haikyuu drabbles #hq x reader

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milswrites · 4 months

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A thousand roses

~ Cassian X Fem!Reader

Summary: Every day you curse the books that gave you unrealistically high expectations of men. Sure you were going to be single forever until you meet Cassian. Adamant he wants to take you on a date, Cassian does his best to impress.

Warning: ⚠️ Reading this may give you unrealistically high expectations of men ⚠️

Actual warnings: Lots of sex talk and inferences to sex but no actual smut!

“And then he made her orgasm three times! Three! The last guy I was with didn’t even manage to squeeze one out of me!”

Upon finishing your latest read, you just couldn’t help but give a very detailed review of exactly what you thought about it to your co-worker. A packed cafe in Velaris during the middle of the day was probably not the most appropriate location to shout about your sex life, but you just had to share how the smut filled pages had left you more satisfied than any man had ever done.

Jadis snorted into the steaming hot tea she was drinking, liquid spilling everywhere, “I’m telling you girl, you just need to get out there, kiss a few frogs to find your prince. I don’t know how many more of your smut reviews I can take. It’s not natural to be this turned on at work.”

You hummed in response, fingers absentmindedly brushing over the pages of your book, “But that’s the problem. I’m too picky to go for a frog!” You blame the hundreds of books in your library at home for that, millions of perfect fictional men literally at your fingertips. “Real men just don’t do it for me anymore.”

This statement was confirmed as you miserably scanned your eyes over the customers in the cafe, none of the males present seeming to stick out to you meet any of your self-imposed standards. You only had yourself and your books to blame for your lack of a relationship.

“I’m just never going to find anyone! Forever reading in my house wishing I was at the mercy of one of my book boyfriends” you sighed, not wanting to seem downhearted but you just couldn’t help it. Velaris just so happened to be a haven for beautiful relationships, everywhere you turned you’d see interlocked hands, affectionate hugs and the occasional heated exchange of kisses. You could only wish that one day you’d be in the same boat as them, overwhelmingly in love with someone who you could call your own. There’s a reason the night court was so affectionately called the court of dreams.

Jadis reeled in your wandering mind, “Well darling, I hope you enjoy forever fantasising about sex rather than having it. I for one can’t wait to take Mr. Tall, Dark and Handsome for a spin.”

She was referring to the moderately attractive male who had asked her out the other day during the preparation of his morning coffee. In your opinion, it wasn’t the most romantic scene. Though Jadis hadn’t been on a date in a long while and so in her own words she was going to implode if she didn’t get a good fuck in soon. So who were you to judge.

The bell above the cafe door twinkled, ending the conversation about your book and pathetic love life. Your eyes travelled to the cafe entrance and stopped when they landed on the biggest male you had ever seen. The Illyrian walked through the door, having to duck his head and draw his wings in to fit through the much smaller frame. His presence in the cafe was enough for you to lift your head from where it was sat in your palm, interest peaked.

There was no doubt that this Illyrian was one of the most attractive males you have ever seen. His long brown hair was pulled back messily into a bun. You didn’t normally like the rough, slightly barbarian-esque type, typically preferring your males to be more clean-cut. It was clear this man didn’t look like most males. No, he looked as if he had just stepped out of one of your deliciously sinful smut books.

He began to approach the counter, his body taking up so much space that he bumped into tables, displacing the drinks of customers who were grasping at the mugs and glasses to try and prevent them from spilling at the earthquake caused by this ginormous man. He apologised to each of them as he moved but kept his eyes locked ahead. Locked on you.

Your friend, noticing the effect this man had on you, spun around and immediately started acting as if she was busy with another job, leaving you to serve him in your hypnotised state.

“Just a coffee please love” he said, pulling you from your stupor as he finally came to a stop at the counter. Mother, even his voice was hot. It was resonant and also bore the twinge of gruffness which left goosebumps on your arms in its wake. There was no doubt everything about this man oozed pure sex appeal. You were too mesmerised to move, brain not registering that he had asked you to do your job. Instead, like a besotted fool, you stayed stood behind your counter, feet rooted to the ground.

“You alright there gorgeous?” The unbelievably good looking male asked, roguishly handsome smile growing on his face, clearly aware of the effect he has on you. This spurred you to move, the stacked cups surrounding you rattling at your sudden movement. “Coffee! Right. Yes, of course!” Managing to squeak a few words out, you turned around to busy yourself with making the coffee, hatred in your eyes as you glared at Jadis who left you stranded making coffee for this very handsome man who’s looks alone were doing very strange things to you and making you think very indecent things. Jadis, undeterred by your glare, wiggled her eyebrows at you, grin stretched across her face, beaming from ear to ear.

With shaky hands, you finish up with making his coffee and without turning around, afraid you’d accidentally start professing your undying love to him if you did, you ask, “any sugar?”

His honey coated voice replies, “No thanks, I’ve already got my eye on something sweeter.” You ignored the sight of your friend’s head snapping speedily to look at you in glee. Heat burning across your cheeks, you turn back to face him, avoiding the man’s eyes.

Hands still shaking, you place the coffee in front of him and wait for him to pay. The sooner he leaves the sooner you can gossip with your Jadis about him and moan about your inability to act normal in front of incredibly attractive men. He pulls out the money from his pocket and places it on the counter, pushing it towards you, but before you can take it from him he drags it back in his direction, finger holding it in place. “How about you and I go out together sometime sweetheart? You’re obviously desperate to.”

At this, the lovesick fog that had been swimming in front of your eyes since this man had entered the cafe dissipated. Rose-tinted glasses off you noticed that the smile that adorned his face was more of a cocky smirk. His confidence and tone of voice told you that he asks this question a lot and most likely always gets the answer he desires. It was clear this man wasn’t the personification of one of your book males come to life. He was just another playboy.

Not wanting to just be another name on the list for this man, you slid the money out from under his hand, sickly sarcastic smile on your face, and said, “I think I’ll pass thanks sweetheart.”

The males smirk promptly fell from his face in shock, clearly not expecting, nor used to rejection. He sputtered out a few buts and whats, flirty demeanour forgotten, a slightly pathetic butt-hurt one taking its place. This was definitely a man not used to losing.

“Have a nice day!” You enthusiastically, and very satirically, finished this interaction before walking away to busy yourself with clearing some now empty tables in the cafe. Wings hung low in defeat, the man at the counter left the cafe, bell ringing as he exited. This surprised you, having expected him to put up a little more of a fight, but nonetheless you were glad that it was over with. Cursing yourself for falling for just another pretty face, standards forgotten.

“What?!” Your friend screamed running over to you, grabbing your shoulders and shaking you vigorously as if you had lost all senses. Unafraid of scaring off the customers who still sat in the cafe, some clearly entertained by the whole event which had transpired. “Do you know who that was? Oh Y/N he was totally into you! Why did you say no?”

“Because he was looking at me as if I was a piece of meat! And no, I have no idea who he was and unlike you I don’t go jumping on every stranger who asks me out at work” You brushed Jadis off of you and started taking the dirty glasses back behind the counter to be washed, your friend hot on your heels not wanting to finish this conversation just yet.

“That was Cassian!” She continued, expression as if it should have been obvious to you who the Illyrian male was. “Good for him” you replied, no idea why it should matter to you who he was, clearly if Jadis and the few interested by standers in the cafe knew who he was he had quite the reputation in Velaris. Surely that mustn’t be a good thing.

“Cassian? Lord of bloodshed? General and Commander of the Night Court’s army?” She continued, seriously not convinced you could have absolutely no idea about him.

You snorted, “I’m sorry, no one actually has that many titles unless they’re from a book… or if they just have a very large ego”.

Jadis groaned, hands fisting her hair in exasperation, “Y/N he’s like totally hot and totally loaded and super important! And he was so checking you out!” You could tell all this was upsetting your friend who was most definitely hoping you were about to get some much needed action, but all you could do was shrug, “I’m sorry babe but I’m a romantic, it’s going to take more than pet names and a stupidly attractive face to gain my interest.”

Giving up, Jadis dropped her hands from her head in acceptance, disappointment clear on her face, “I know, but don’t come running back to me to complain how unsatisfied you are when that Illyrian god was basically throwing himself at you.”

After the topic of the male was dropped, your day continued as normal, whilst Jadis had promised not to bring it up again but you couldn’t help but notice the angry glances your friend kept throwing your way during the last few hours of your shift, distressed that you had let a man go who had seemed perfectly acceptable in her opinion.

At the end of your shift, in an attempt to get her to understand where you were coming from, you slid your book towards her, “Here. Read it and then maybe you’ll understand what I mean.” She picked it up, looking at the cover eyes bulging at the title, “Bound in chains? Really?”

“Trust me, sit down with a large glass of wine and read it. You’re going to love it!”

With that the two of you locked up the cafe, book secure in Jadis’s bag. You said your goodbyes at the door and headed your seperate ways, all thoughts of the handsome man from earlier in the day long gone. Upon your arrival at home, you wandered to your favourite room in the house, your library, wanting to select a new read to cosy up with for the evening.

Approaching your shelf that you reserved exclusively for books you had bought but had yet to read, you pulled one out by its spine, eyes glancing over the cover. The cover which bore the image of a large, well-muscled man, whose long brown hair flowed freely over his shoulders. Eyes blowing wide and blush returning to your cheeks you shoved the book back onto the shelf. Thoughts drifting back to the Illyrian with the same looks who had been flirting with you earlier. Maybe you’d be better off reading a safe fantasy book tonight. Or better yet a book that had no man in at all, although that would be a rare find in your library.

~~~~~

“I am a changed women”

Returning to work the next day, you were greeted by Jadis smiling, bouncing up and down on her feet, and holding your book in her hands.

“I take it you liked it then?”

“Liked it?”Jadis squealed, “it was like reading pure porn. I loved it”

You laughed along side her, of course Jadis would read an entire book and focus on the porn rather than the actual plot of it.

“Truly I did,” she continued, rushing about and gathering her things, “and I would love to stay behind now my shift has finished to talk about it but I have to go home and get ready for Mr Tall, Dark and Handsome, maybe tonight I can try out some of those moves I read about!” She winked at you, handing over your book before rushing out of the cafe with an excitable “Wish me luck!”

Work had been very quiet today, allowing you time to sit and read your newest book. After finishing a simple fantasy last night you were left unsatisfied by the lack of enjoyment it provided when it came to the physical romance. Needing more, you had selected one of the filthiest books you could find.

Engrossed in the pages, plot thickening by the minute, you were absorbed into the book. Only to be broken from its spell when the familiar chime rang of the bell rang out, signalling a customer had arrived. Rushing to finish the page before they reached the counter, your eyes flew over the words before you finally reached the end of the page. Enabling you to look up from behind your book only to see Cassian standing before you, lips formed into a cautious smile. As if unsure of how you’d react to his presence after yesterday.

“Coffee?” You ask, eyebrows raised, placing your book down before standing up from the stool you were sat on behind the counter.

“Please if you don’t mind, but don’t let me stop you from finishing ‘Fated Frenzy’… cauldron do women really read books like this?” Cassian exclaimed, picking up your book and flicking through the pages, holding it out of reach so you couldn’t snatch it back.

Clenching your fists together as you glared at him you replied, “well if only men knew how to actually please a woman then we wouldn’t have to.”

“Maybe you just haven’t found the right man then,” Cassian mumbled, focus still on the book that was dwarfed in his large hands. He must have reached a particularly risqué part as his eyes widened slightly, tongue peaking out from between his lips. Now as he spoke, reading from your book, he wore a large grin, “I mean not every man has a cock that looks as if it was sculpted by the gods themselves.”

You scowled, now managing to take hold of the book grasped in one of his large hands and snatched it back. “I’ve certainly never met a man like that” you replied as you slammed your book back onto the counter and moved off to make his coffee so he could leave you to read in peace.

“Don’t want to check sweetheart?” He teased from behind your back, clearly trying to get you as flustered as he had managed to yesterday. Pleased at your banter. Not wanting to give him what he wants, and definitely not wanting to turn around to see his stupidly handsome smirking face looking back at you, you replied from over your shoulder while you were busy finishing his drink, “it doesn’t take a fool to know the spymaster has a larger wingspan. Now his I’d like to see.”

You heard the catch of his breath, causing him to choke on air at what you had said, clearly not expecting your confident retort, and not saying anything at the discovery you do indeed know who he is all thanks to Jadis. Cheeks stretching into a grin of your own at his embarrassment, you turn and place his drink in front of him. Unlike yesterday, Cassian didn’t even attempt to reach for his money before asking, “Please, let me take you out somewhere nice”.

Your smile dropped, head shaking slowly, “What classes as nice in your books? Other than a quick fuck behind the back of the building.” This comment made Cassian’s eyebrows knit together, not happy with the impression you had of him. “What will it take for you to understand I’m serious? That I want to take you on a date to get to know you.” He sounded earnest you’d give him that.

“I don’t know ok! I just know that I’m not going to say yes to a man I don’t even know who asked me out while I was just doing my job.”

He stretched out his hand, trying to meet yours which was resting on the counter but you pulled away before any contact could be made. “I want to get to know you, if you’ll let me. Likes, dislikes, good bits, bad bits, everything.”

“I- I don’t know Cassian, I just don’t think this is going to work.”

“What will it take?” He begged, eyes desperate.

“For you to be like one of them” you said, nodding your head towards your book.

“An overly sexual alpha male?” He said, confused as to what you were actually referring to. This made a small laugh escape from your lips, “No that’s just a bonus. I’m sorry Cassian, I just dream about being swept of my feet by a man that acts like one of them. Romantic, sweet, not asking out every other woman they see.”

“I can be romantic” Cassian said defensively, “I can be incredibly romantic”

Wanting to get this interaction over with you decided just to agree with him. “I’m sure you can Cassian, no doubt there’s a very lucky woman waiting for you somewhere”.

You weren’t sure it was possible for his brows to furrow any more than they already were, “I’ll prove it to you. Prove that I’m all in on this. You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on and I’m not going to let you go that easily.” Determined look plastered on his face Cassian grabbed his coffee and walked towards the door pulling the it open, bell chiming, and before he stepped outside he called back to you, “I’ll see you soon gorgeous, you better be ready for me” and with that Cassian left, the cafe silent apart from the bell still ringing, the sound helping you realise that Cassian was real and that interaction did actually happen.

It was only five minutes later, when your wild thoughts were tamed by another customer entering did you realise that Cassian never even paid for his drink.

~~~~~

“Y/N!” Cassian shouted bustling through the tables to reach you as he entered your work once more. Shock flooded your system, he had learnt your name from when you last spoke to him two days ago. After causing a ruckus, and spilling many drinks onto poor unsuspecting customers laps, he reached the counter where you were stood waiting for him.

“What are you-“ you started angrily, worried he would scare away valued customers. Though you were interrupted by Cassian whose arm, which was hiding behind his back, shot out revealing the largest bouquet of flowers you’ve ever seen.

He held them out expectantly, waiting for you to take them but your suprise had you rooted to the spot. Familiar with your freezing by now, Cassian impatiently shook the bouquet in your face, movement bringing your thoughts back to the present. Still not taking them, not quite believing something so beautiful could be gifted to you, you spoke, “They’re lovely Cassian but you just cut right in front of Matilda who was here first!” Cassian’s features faltered as he dropped the bouquet in disappointment.

Matilda , the lovely little old fae who frequented your cafe, leaned around Cassian’s broad figure so she could see you, “it’s alright Y/N! Take the damn flowers and talk to the man!”

Cassian thanked the older women and stuck out the flowers once more. “For you,” he said encouragingly, willing you to accept the gift, “I told you I’d prove myself to you. I’m here for a date.” By this point you had been stood there for a ridiculous time causing your Jadis to stretch her arm past you and grab the flowers smirking as she says, “Thank you Cassian, they’re beautiful, Y/N loves them. Lillies are her favourite, how did you know?” Winking as she walked off with the bouquet it was clear Cassian has been getting some insider information from the mouth of your best friend.

The Illyrian nodded his head at your friend gratefully and you finally rediscovered the ability to speak, “Thank you, but if you’re here for a date I’m sorry I can’t help you, this is my work Cas, I have to do my job.”

“Pfft bit presumptuous I’m here for a date with you”

At that your face fell slightly before you quickly returned you expression to normal, not wanting Cassian to know his words had an effect on you. Surely he wouldn’t bring you flowers just to have a date with another woman in your workplace. Was this some twisted way to try and make you jealous?

Flirty expression on his face Cassian adjusted where he was stood and flung his arm around Matilda who began to blush, “Have to find out everything I can about you from my beautiful date Matilda here! One coffee for me and one of whatever my darling date would like” he said, making Matilda giggle before asking for her usual. Relief flooding you body, your lips twitched and you began to make their order, “my, my, Matilda. I have to say I expected better in your taste of men”.

“Woah woah no need to tell her,” Cassian joked, “don’t want this hot commodity to leave me for something better” he finished, winking at Morgana who looked as happy as if it was Solstice morning. Grabbing the finished drinks you had placed before him, he headed to a table, coming back once the drinks were down to walk Matilda to her chair, but not before placing his money on the counter, saying, “Moneys there for the other day by the way, I’ll speak to you later.”

Cassian must have sat talking with Matilda for hours, watched closely by you from the corner of your eye as you worked, customer after customer coming and going. Finally when the rush had died down and your shift was coming to an end, the two who had been huddled together gossiping over more than a few coffees, hot chocolates and cakes stood to take their leave. Or more accurately, Matilda was taking her leave. Cassian had said his goodbyes bending down to give Matilda a big hug and then scooped their empty plates and cups into his arms before walking towards you.

There wasn’t enough time for him to place the items down on the counter before you watched as Matilda lay a firm smack to his backside before giggling, “I’ll see you later hot stuff.” Lucky not to break any cups, Cassian jumped, flying forwards and dropping them all onto the counter before you, eyes terrified.

You couldn’t help but chuckle, placing the cups the right way up before checking on the male, “you alright there hot stuff?”

“Oh don’t even start. That woman’s got one strong slap” he whined, hand rubbing his ass to relieve some of the pain.

“Don’t act like that’s not how all your dates end” you goaded, cheeks twinging at the effort to stop yourself from bursting out laughing.

“Trust me gorgeous, if any of my actual dates ended like that I wouldn’t be complaining” he winked at you, all the while pulling a napkin out of its holder to help you clean his mess from the counter.

As you watched him clean, you couldn’t help but admire the way his brows slightly furrow when he’s concentration, noting the way his focused mouth tilts to once side, tongue slightly poking from between his lips. He was handsome there was no denying it.

“Will you walk me home?” You blurted, snapping your mouth shut and internally cursing yourself for asking such a ridiculous thing, digging yourself into an even deeper hole you continued, “it’s only that the flowers you got me are so big… and I have all my other things…and…uh..”

“Y/N, I would love to walk you home”

“Great! I’ll just um, go and grab my stuff”

You turned, heading towards the cloakroom, only to be met by Jadis, bag and bouquet in hand. She shoved them eagerly into your arms squealing, “go get him girl!” Hands pressed against your back, she forced you to move forwards until you were in front of Cassian, “don’t have too much fun you two” she said now guiding you both from the cafe, tripping and stumbling over each others feet as Jadis’s excitement led to some very firm shoving.

~~~~~

Once outside in one piece, no thanks to Jadis, Cassian plucked the flowers from your arms allowing you to swing the strap of your book-filled bag over your shoulders. Timidness now overcame you, what were you supposed to say to him now? Had asking him to walk you home seemed too desperate?

“So what are you reading now? Not another book about a poor sexually frustrated female?” He asked, breaking your panicked thoughts as he walked side by side with you.

“No sex this time,” you giggled lightly, “this one’s about a man who sacrificed his kingdom for his true love”

“You really like that stuff huh?” Cassian spoke softly to you, he sounded like he was truly interested in finding out exactly how your brain worked, “that true love and romantic gestures shit?”

“It’s not shit” you defended, “sometimes it helps me not feel so alone. Reading about all these grand gestures and things people do for the ones they love.”

Cassian cleared his throat awkardly, his hand which was not holding the flowers moving up to scratch at his head, “and you’re into that? Romantic gestures?”

“It’s hard not to be. Pretty sure it’s every girls dream to be swept of their feet and fall as deeply as characters do in books.” Cassian was nodding along to what you were saying but his eyes showed he was lost in thought. It was your turn to draw him from his head, “you never done anything romantic for your ladies Cas?”

His name on your lips seemed to work, the clouds of thought in his eyes fading as he turned his gaze from the road ahead to you, “I guess I’ve normally always thought that just me is enough”. He didn’t say this to be cocky or narcissistic, you could tell. You didn’t mean to make him feel shame over the situation, you had been genuinely curious. Perhaps a little jealous at the thought of Cassian putting in just as much work into chasing other women as he has been with you.

“That’s ok. I think romance is more reserved for the pages of books these days than in actual reality”

Not a fan of where this conversation had turned to Cassian did his best to lift the mood, “I’m not surprised you think that if all your books were like that one I caught you reading. Heck where are you meant to find a overprotective god of war with who hates everyone but the lowly daughter of an inventor and they go on to have insane - and totally not physically possible by the way- sex!”

You scrunched your face, “Cassian there’s no way you were able to get all that from one page…Oh cauldron! You read the book! You read Fatal Frenzy!”

As if only now realising what he said to you, a flustered Cassian tried to provide you with lame excuses as to how he knew that information until it was clear you weren’t going to let it go. After about five minutes of listening to your constant prodding, poking and teasing as you walked, Cassian caved, “Fine! Fine, I read it ok. I was curious as to how he was going to put his god level cock to use!”

By this point you were full on cackling, having to stop your walking to put a hand on your stomach at the thought of this mountain of a man sitting down to read a devilishly smutty book. “I have to say”, you gasped out in-between giggles, “I’m surprised you can even read”.

Cassian acted out the most overdramatic reaction to your words, his hands flew to his heart, bouquet still in his grasp, and released loud, exaggerated noises of pain and cries of just how horrible you were. People had began to stop in the street, wondering why the Lord of Bloodshed was acting as though he had just been shot. Rolling your eyes and wanting the attention off the two of you, you elbowed his side prompting him to stop, “careful you’ll crush my flowers if you die any wilder.”

Charming grin of his face, Cassian looked down at you, “we wouldn’t want that would we? Not when a super hot guy went through the effort of finding out your favourite flowers for you.”

“You’re crazy” you said in dismissal, continuing to walk in the direction of your home.

“Your kind of crazy?” A hopeful tone in Cassian’s voice.

“I haven’t quite decided yet” you said honestly. You couldn’t deny that Cassian was already proving himself to you more than any man has. No one had ever bought you flowers before and no male had ever attempted to read a book you were reading for your attention.

“Well you just let me know when you do” Even the way Cassian looked at you made you melt.

“You’ll be the first” gentle smile on your face. Nerves building in you once more as you thought about what going further with the man next you you would entail.

Content to let you walk lost in your thoughts, Cassian didn’t try to force any conversation. A natural peace fell between the two of you, the silence not an awkward one. It wasn’t until you neared the outside of your house that you broke the silence, “Well, this is me”.

Nodding Cassian passed you the bouquet. For the first time you looked at the flowers and really admired them, admired the fact this man had gone out his way to go to your friend and make sure he got your favourite ones.

“Thank you Cassian,” you said, laying a kiss onto his stubbled cheek, “they’re beautiful.”

Cassian’s usual confidence gone, it was his turn to blush. Shyly, he tried his luck again, “so about that date?”

You walked over to your door, pulling out your key, turning back to Cassian, twinkle in your eyes, you said, “ask me again tomorrow”.

“That wasn’t a no!” He said, confidence rushing back into him. As you entered your house and peaked through the window behind your curtains you couldn’t help but watch Cassian, beam on his face, as he jumped on the spot. A small celebration that you hadn’t fully rejected him once more. A matching grin on your face as you observed him, you stayed watching until he took off from the ground, large angelic wings spread, wondering what in Prythian was this man doing to you and what sinful things you’d like to do with those wings.

~~~~~

You were sorely disappointed over the course of the next week. Since that evening Cassian had walked you home to the cafe he had not returned. Jadis tried to keep your thoughts positive, saying he was probably away on important Night Court business, being the General of its army and all. After being the one to speak to Cassian about you she was adamant that he was undoubtedly in love with you and he wouldn’t leave you hanging.

It was hard though, when the eighth day of his absence rolled round, not to think that he had found someone more interesting to pursue. Someone who didn’t make him work as hard for their affections. Your mood was so glum that you didn’t even have the heart to read. Why read about love when you’re not sure you believe in it anymore?

You had spent days wondering what you had done wrong. Had you been too forward? Or did he find your obsession with males that weren’t real a little too bizarre? You did your best not to dwell on it but it was so hard not to, the flowers you had placed in a vase on the side table in your library, right next to your reading chair, still flourished beautifully, a constant reminder of the man who crashed into your life only to leave it in shambles.

So here you were, sat on the stool in the cafe, your thoughts being the only thing to keep you busy due to your sudden lack of interest in reading. It had been another quiet day, but it wasn’t long now until Jadis would arrive, you had opened the cafe for her after she asked for a favour so she could spend the night at Mr. Tall, Dark and Handsome’s, who’s name you had learnt was Arthur. Happy that even if your love life was crumbling, at least Jadis’s was blooming. However, you were thankful you weren’t actually supposed to be working today, not sure if you could survive another shift listening to her unintentionally boast about how perfect Arthur was and how good he is at sex.

So you sat there and waited for her arrival, desperate to go home and crawl into your bed. Without your typical reading to do, you found yourself spending most of your free time sleeping, wasting away the hours you didn’t know what to do with yourself in.

It was finally an hour after the time she had promised to be in for, when Jadis flew into the cafe, bell ringing aggressively at her sudden entrance. Running to where you were at the counter, coat and bags in hand, she was profusely apologising over and over for her tardiness.

“You must have had a good night with Mr Handsome” you teased, trying not to let your slight annoyance at you still being here show. Confusion flashed across her face before she quickly corrected it in realisation, “Oh yeah! Totally great sex, every woman’s dream. Hugeeee dick.”

Opening your mouth, ready to ask her about her odd behaviour, she pulled you from your stool before you could talk. Dragging you out from behind the work area, saying “Come on Y/N it’s your day off, don’t want to be here any longer than you have to be!”

Now you defiantly knew something was off, Jadis typically keeping you an hour in-between shifts to catch you up on everything that has happened since the day before. “Jadis, what’s going on?” You asked cautiously, had something happened between her and Arthur? No. Jadis would definitely tell you if that was the case, or maybe she just didn’t want to make you any more depressed than you already were. Still in that strange tone of voice, Jadis kept pushing you to leave, “Nothings wrong! I’m fine. Now leave, you still have the whole day to do something, go read one of your smut books!”

This confirmed she was definitely hiding something, knowing that you haven’t picked up a book for the past week after listening to your incessant complaining about the matter. If you weren’t so desperate to leave and go rot in bed for the rest of the day you would have stayed and forced whatever it is she was hiding out of her. You decided that was tomorrow’s job, when you had a nice six hour shift together where she couldn’t avoid your pestering.

Shrugging on your coat and promising to yourself you’d find out what she was dodging tomorrow, you left the cafe. Turning your head around to look back through the windows only to be met with Jadis and her crazed eyes watching, as if making sure you were walking in the direction of your house. Unsettled, you followed the streets leading home, praying to the Mother that your friend was alright and you weren’t about to have to kill a man for upsetting her.

Finally, you arrived at your door, turning the key in the lock you were startled to discover the door was already unlocked. You were exhausted when you left that morning but you could have sworn you weren’t so tired that you’d risk your property and your safety like that.

Fear now coursing through your veins, you quietly pushed your door open, scared you would alert anyone in your house that you were there and something bad would ensue. The fae lights in your hallway were all lit, softly casting a warm glow over your home. You stepped inside, and instead of your foot meeting the usual plush of your carpet it was met with a slight crunch.

Casting your eyes to the ground you gasped. There were hundreds of rose petals scattered across your floor, leading towards each of your rooms. Following the trail, you made it through to the entrance of your living room, if your jaw dropped any lower you were sure it’d hit the floor.

The entire room looked as if it had been covered in a red blanket, a sea of roses covering the entirety of your room to the point where you couldn’t actually see anything that wasn’t a deep shade of red.

By this point your heart was pounding in your chest and you were sure you could feel your eyes watering, the hundreds of roses placed around you getting blurrier and blurrier. But there was no sign of the man you were sure had placed them.

Turning around you sped into each of your rooms, wanting nothing more than to find Cassian and throw your arms around him. Each room the same as the last, filled to the brim with the most beautiful roses. Lillies may once have been your favourite flowers but you think the kind-hearted man, who had wormed his way into your heart, may have just changed your mind. Roses were perfect.

Still no Illyrian insight you flung open the door to your library. Room decorated just as over the top as the others. And there in the centre of it all, sat waiting for you to return home, is Cassian. He stood quickly, treading on some of the flowers placed by his feet.

“How?” You asked, voice cracking as you tried to hold the tears at bay.

“It wasn’t easy, Jadis let me in.” Cassian said lightheartedly from where he stood across the room, too far from you for your liking, “I’m sorry I’ve been gone so long. I wanted to do this the day after we last spoke but I guess I didn’t actually think about the logistics of getting thousands of roses delivered.”

You stayed silent, heart overwhelmingly filled with love for the man before you, the man who had spent the past week getting a thousand roses just to ask you on a date. Taking your silence for something bad, Cassian began to ramble, “My brother Azriel - the spymaster - he helped too…I wanted to make sure it’d be done in time. It’s a mess I get it, I’m sorry, I’ll clear it all out for you I just-“

You cut him off, tears now flowing freely down your red hot cheeks, hands trembling, “it’s perfect Cassian. Nobody…nobody has ever done anything like this for me” At the sign of your tears Cassian made to make his way towards you but was stopped by the fact he just didn’t know where to place his foot without ruining all his hard work.

“Clearly I didn’t think this through very well” he mumbled, arms out to keep him balanced and preventing him from falling. Not wanting to spend a minute more away from him after having to suffer through a whole week, you ran, roses be damned right into his arms. Throwing yourself at his muscled body as he caught you, pulling you close to his chest in midair.

“You’re crazy!” you exclaimed, head tucked into his neck as you rested it on his shoulder.

Cassian placed you down gently, arms still wrapped tightly around your waist but he wanted to look into your eyes for this, “your kind of crazy?” His eyes held that same hopeful desperation that they had when he last asked you out.

“Hell yeah” and with that you grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and connected his lips to yours.

The kiss was like nothing you had ever read before in one of your books. It was everything and more. A fire ignited within you, burning hotter and hotter and you just kept needing more. Cassian the fuel to your fire and you were sure that as long as you had him with you it was a flame that would never die out.

It was a messy clash of teeth and tongues, both of you uncaring of how sloppily and uncoordinated were kissing. All you knew was you needed each other like the pages of a book needed ink. You kissed and you kissed, hands wandering until you weren’t sure which parts belonged to Cassian and which to yourself.

The need to breathe forgotten, you continued. Hands running over his back which was rippled in muscles before reaching around his neck, holding onto him tightly as he picked you up once more.

It was only when the need for air was so overwhelming that you had no other option to pull away that you did. Heads pressed together, lips still slightly touching, a trail of saliva linking the two of you together. Cassian continued to hold you in his arms as if you were nothing but a feather, catching his breath he finally began to speak, “So about that date then?”

You giggled, pulling him even closer to you by his neck and laying a soft peck on his lips before drawing away to give your answer, Cassian’s mouth chasing after yours, “If this is how you ask me, I can’t wait to see what you have planned for our first date. Hopefully you don’t ignore me for a month whilst you prepare.”

Barking out a laugh Cassian placed you on the floor of roses, holding your hands to ensure you didn’t stumble. He looked around the room, proud smile adorning his face, he first took in the roses which he had took so long in prepping, screaming at Azriel when he hadn’t placed them down as he had pictured in his head. His gaze then swept your shelves, hundreds of books upon them.

“Ever read about this in one of your books?”

“Nope this is definitely a first”

His eyes landed on the book resting on your table, right next to the vase full of lilies he had originally given you, title in gold lettering along the front of the cover. Fated Frenzy. The book he had read because of you. You laughed as you spotted what he was staring at, his eyes travelling back to you, running up your body with hunger before finally settling on your eyes.

“You into roleplay gorgeous?”

With those words he smashed his lips back onto yours. The promise of an exciting night ahead.

Here, standing in your library entwined with the Illyrian you decided all those characters you have read about were lacking in one thing you never even knew you needed.

They weren’t Cassian.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Notes: You have no idea how much I wanted to finish this fic with “And so Cassian did” lol

Happy Valentines <3

#acotar #fanfic #cassian fic #cassian imagine #cassian x reader #cassian #cassian oneshot #a court of thorns and roses #acotar imagine

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tightjeansjavi · 5 months

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Catfish | Chapter 2

🫧 Estrella Del Mar🫧

A/N: ahoy there you minnows! Who’s ready for some more fisherman!frankie? He’s going to reel you all in after he casts his line. Won’t you hop aboard his vessel? 😉

~word count: 2.2k~

Summary: Frankie asks you to hop aboard his vessel and spend the day fishing with him.

Pairing | fisherman!Frankie Morales x bartender f!reader

Warnings: slowish burn, enemies to lovers, language, light Spanish, Frankie is a flirt and a bit of an ass, mean!frankie, grumpy!frankie,pining, banter, sexual innuendos, fish innuendos, pet names: Starfish, cariño, brief mention of Frankie’s past in the army, no age gap, reader has no physical descriptions, +18 minors dni!

¡Joder! Cómo ciega el sol - fuck! The sun is blinding

Estrella Del Mar - Starfish

“Buenos días, Starfish.” He was in a chipper mood this morning. Not that you were paying any close attention to his mood. After the shit he pulled a few nights back? You were beginning to believe that maybe Juniper was right about Frankie after all.

You ignored him willfully as he made himself comfortable on his usual bartop stool.

You looked over the brim of his hat when the side door to his vessel opened, and yet another tourist came stumbling out. This one however wasn’t dressed in her clothes from the night before. This one had an early morning booty call written all over her face.

“Is there ever a moment in your day when you’re not getting your dick wet, Catfish?”

His sunglasses tipped below the bridge of his nose as he rolled his shoulders forwards. He scoffed under his breath, ignoring your question. Meanwhile, his eyes traveled across the flushed look on the woman's face while she did her best to walk down the dock without making it too obvious that her legs were as wobbly as jello. So what if Frankie had fucked her less than 20 minutes ago..why should you care?

“Dunno what you're talking about, cariño.” He bluffed. “We were just playing an early morning game of scrabble. And what did I tell you about calling me Catfish, hm?” He raised his brow in your direction.

Yeah, scrabble..with my tongue.

“An early morning game of scrabble? Really, Fish Filet? Right, cause that’s why she’s having trouble walking..because you beat her in scrabble. Uh huh.” You weren’t convinced in the slightest. Your eyes met his in a challenging stare. “You’re annoying me, Frankie. That's why I called you Catfish.”

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d start to think that you’re feeling jealous, Starfish. Since when are you so concerned over who, and what I’m doing in my personal life? If you’re looking for—”

You cut him off coldly with half the intention to reach over the bartop and slap him across the face with your towel, but you refrained. “Is there something I can help you with, Frankie? I’m on the clock. I don’t have time to chit-chat.”

He brushed off your sudden coldness with a shrug of his shoulders as he leaned forward and crossed his arms over his chest. “Yeah, you can help me, Starfish. I’d like a coffee, black, like your soul.” The corners of his lips curved upwards in a small grin.

The look you gave him was nothing short of disapproving, and deeply unimpressed. “Get it yourself, Frankie.” You turned your back towards him, muttering under your breath about how it was too goddamn early to be dealing with him and his shenanigans.

“The fuck took a shit in your cheerios this morning?” He uncrossed his arms and reached over the bartop for a mug and the coffee pot. “Y’know, I am your customer and you really should—”

“Do you sleep on that thing?” You faced him once more after deciding that slapping him with the towel would not be worth it.

He took a sip of the steaming liquid as he leaned back against the barstool. “Pardon?”

“Your boat.” You clarified. “Do you sleep on it?”

“Depends. Sometimes I do, and sometimes I don’t.” He shrugged. “Why do you ask, Starfish?” He was intrigued, and it was written all over his smug, scruffy face.

“No reason.” Now you were the one bluffing.

“Oh, c’mon, cariño. There is always a reason to ask something. Even if it’s just out of curiosity.” He took another slurping sip from the mug and your eye twitched from the sound.

He’s doing that on purpose.

“If I tell you that I asked because I was curious, will you drop the subject, Fish Filet?”

“Sure. As long as you’re telling me the truth, Starfish.” He nodded.

“Okay. I was asking because I’m curious, and that is the truth, Frankie.”

He wasn’t convinced by your answer, and you didn’t like the way that he was studying your face rather intently. His head cocked to the side as a warm sea breeze brushed through the soft curls at the back of his neck.

“Do you want to see it?” He asked suddenly, catching you off guard.

“See what?”

He stifled a chuckle at your response as he set his mug down along the bartop counter and leaned forward. “My vessel, cariño. Do you want to see it?”

“Can you maybe..not call it a vessel? Just call it a fucking boat, Frankie. And no, I do not want to see it. And even if I did, I’m on the clock. So, go ask one of your tourist friends that you’re so acquainted with. I’m sure they’d love to see your vessel.”

He rolled his lips into his teeth to hide his growing smirk from showing because here he was crawling under your skin like a goddamn worm wriggling about.

“Can’t Juniper cover your shift this morning? All I ever see you do is work, Starfish. Don’t you ever get out there and live a little? It would only be for a couple hours, and it’s going to be such a beautiful day...” he trailed off with an almost disappointed sigh slipping past his lips.

“Oh, I think you and I both know that is a lie, Frankie. Are you forgetting about that certain beach party? Has it slipped your mind already?” You questioned with your arms crossed against your chest as you leaned back against the counter. The tips of his ears began to turn beet red. No, he had not forgotten about the night that you skinny dipped, and he stole a peek at your bare skin and got caught while doing so.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Look, I’m gonna finish off my coffee here and then I’ll be on my way. I was just going to ask you if you wanted to come out fishing with me. Offer still stands if you change your mind, cariño.” He was thankful that his sunglasses provided him with a bit of cover so that you couldn’t see the redness flush to the highest points of his cheeks either.

“Fishing—? With you?” You questioned unsurely.

“Yeah. Like I said, it’s going to be a beautiful day out there, but if you wanna be stuck on shore all day...be my guest.” His usual banter was gone, and it was replaced with an emotion that you didn’t think Frankie was capable of showing; disappointment.

How bad could it really be?

He could throw you overboard

Feed you to the sharks

Or even worse! You might actually have a good time?

“I’ll..think about it.” You finally responded. He finished off his coffee, downing what was left and pulled out a few bills from his pocket and slapped them down on the countertop. “Sure.” He muttered.

Juniper had shown up shortly after Frankie sauntered back to his boat with that feeling of disappointment churning deep within his gut.

Maybe I should just ask one of those tourists that I’ve gotten acquainted with. I’m sure they’d love to see me cast a line and reel a big one in.

She did say she’d think about it.

Bullshit. ‘I’ll think about it’ really means fuck off, Frankie.

“Hey, June? Do you think you could cover the morning shift for me today?” You asked while fiddling with the end of your shirt.

“Does this have anything to do with Frankie looking like a lost puppy when I showed up a few minutes ago, Starfish?” Juniper knew the answer, and so did you.

“Now you’re calling me Starfish too?” You laughed and gently punched her in the shoulder before rubbing your hands down your face with a sigh. “June, before you get upset with me, he asked me if I wanted to go fishing with him. He seemed disappointed when I didn’t immediately say yes.”

“Well, what can I say? The nickname stuck.” She winked. “He asked you to go fishing with him? Like actually fishing? No funny business?”

“It didn’t sound like he was inferring any ‘funny business’ taking place. He really was just asking me if I’d like to go fishing and enjoy the beautiful day? Or, he’s luring me in just so he can throw me overboard to the sharks.”

You both laughed at this.

“I mean, if he’s really just asking you to go fishing with him, then I say there’s no harm? I’ll cover your shift, but don’t go with him just because you feel like you have to, okay?” She placed her hands on your shoulders giving them a gentle reassuring squeeze.

You weighed out your options for a moment because June was right, there really was no harm in going fishing with Frankie Morales. Maybe he was just being friendly. Maybe this was his way to show you that he’s sorry for being an ass. Maybe you were overthinking it for what it really meant.

“I’ll be back in time for the evening rush, okay? Feel free to call me if the afternoon rush becomes too much, and I’ll come right back, okay?” You were already grabbing your purse and the belongings and slinging the strap over your shoulder.

“Babe, you’re gonna be out in the middle of the ocean. I don't think you're going to have any service out there. Just go and have a good time, alright? I doubt the afternoon shift will get that crazy.” She reassured you.

“Shit. You’re right. I didn’t even think about that!” You laughed and gave her a quick hug and kiss on the cheek. “Have a good day, June!”

“Just stay away from those fish fingers!” She jokingly said, and you flipped her off playfully as you slipped past her behind the bartop. There was an undeniable pep in your step as you made your way down the dock to Frankie’s awaiting boat.

Estrella Del Mar (Starfish) was painted on the starboard side of the ship.The letters were beginning to fade, and desperately needed a fresh coat of paint. Well, his entire boat desperately needed some sprucing up. Frankie would disagree.

Speaking of the Catfish himself, Frankie hadn’t heard you approaching as he was too focused on pulling in the lines that held his boat docked in the harbor. He was shirtless, with a cigarette pursed between his lips. A nasty habit that he had picked up during his days in the army. It was a piece of his past that he kept quiet, under the wraps and hidden. At a time in his life he was proud to serve his country, but he carried scars. The kind that weren’t visible to the naked eye.

You could faintly hear the radio playing some catchy pop song in Spanish that lifted through the growing humidity. His bare muscles flexed and grew taut as he pulled in the lines and tossed them over the side of the deck without dropping the cigarette from between his lips.

“Need a hand with that, fish boy?” You were well within earshot with a grin plastered on your pretty face and hands on your hips as you looked up at him from the dock.

Frankie nearly dropped his cigarette when he saw you standing on the dock and looking up at him. His heart skipped a pathetic beat in his chest, and he wasted no time to toss the lines down to the side before he was hopping down onto the deck. He made it look way too easy, and your own heart skipped a beat.

“Who you calling a fish boy?” He asked teasingly. Frankie couldn't hide his apparent grin if he tried. And even though the sunlight was blinding, you could see the faint residue of sunscreen on the bridge of his nose. You watched as he took one last drag from his cigarette before tossing the butt off to the side.

“Uh..I am? I think?” You looked around the dock before your gaze settled back on him. “Surprised to see me, Frankie? That makes two of us.”

“I’m very surprised to see you here, cariño. You had me wondering if ‘I’ll think about it’ was your way of saying ‘fuck off, Frankie.’” He said with a chuckle and crossed his bare arms against his chest.

“Oh, it did. Well, at first. But I’m here now! So, are you gonna help me onto your vessel or do I have to do that myself?” You mirrored his actions.

“My what?” He blinked and swore that the blazing sun was already getting to his head.

¡Joder! Cómo ciega el sol.

“Francisco, your boat. Are you going to invite me on board?” You bit down on your lower lip to hide your grin when you saw his cheeks flush a bright red. He totally thought that you were referring to—his other vessel

“Oh! Right. Yes. My boat! Right.” He cleared his throat and brought one of his hands to rub at the back of his neck. He took a deep breath as he gathered his senses to clear his head. “Right this way, Starfish.” He offered you his elbow to show you that he could in fact act as a gentleman.

You placed your palm along the crook of his elbow feeling the bit of muscle there as he led you onboard.

“Welcome aboard Estrella Del Mar, cariño.”

Banners made by the lovely @saradika 🤍

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#fic: Catfish #frankie morales #francisco morales #frankie morales fanfiction #frankie morales fic #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x f!reader #frankie morales x you #francisco morales x reader #francisco morales x you #frankie catfish morales #francisco catfish morales #catfish morales x reader #pedro pascal characters #mean!frankie morales #frankie morales fluff #frankie morales smut #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction

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cosmerelists · 1 year

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If Cosmere Characters worked at a coffee shop...

[Spoilers for Rhythm of War & Mistborn Era 1, technically! All other references should be safe.]

Let’s say the Cosmere characters lived in our world and worked as baristas. What would they be like in that role?

1. Kaladin: Keeps trying (in vain) to unionize with the other employees

Kaladin: I really thought we had it, that time.

Kaladin: I can’t believe I’m the only one who didn’t get fired.

Kaladin: AGAIN

2. Shallan: Makes the most gorgeous latte art you’ve ever seen

Customer: H-How did you make the flower 3D? It’s just MILK

Shallan: I learned it from a book!

3. Sarene: Is the queen of malicious compliance and working to rule

Sarene: Manager got on my case because the customer said the coffee was weak.

Sarene: I am using this scale to measure out the proper coffee amounts to the gram.

Sarene: These tweezers help.

4. Kelsier: The rumors of his firing were greatly exaggerated

Doug the normal barista: Uh, I’m pretty sure our new coworker Ty Decker is just Kelsier in a mustache.

Doug the other normal barista: Impossible! We saw him get fired!

Doug #1: I’m telling you, man! It’s like he can’t leave this coffeeshop!

“Ty” (to a customer): Hello would you like to join my secret club?

Doug #2 (whispering): And I’m pretty sure he’s in an MLM!

5. Adolin: Knows each customer by name (and flirts for tips)

Adolin: Janala! It’s so great to see you! You look gorgeous as always!

Janala: ...

Janala: Is our date going to be just hanging out at your coffeeshop while you’re working?

Adolin: I-It’ll be fun; you’ll see!

6. Lirin: Refuses to apply upcharges

Lirin: No one should have to pay EXTRA for oatmilk!

Lirin: I’m just going to give this to you for free.

7. Steris: Has the employee handbook memorized

Steris: Actually, it’s illegal to ask Doug to start the coffee before he clocks in.

Steris: Employee handbook Section 3.7a.

8. Lightsong: Refuses to believe that he is a god (of coffeemaking)

Lightsong: Ugh, WHY are we always so much busier when I’m working?

Lightsong: I’m not even that good at making coffee!

Llarimar: People believe your coffee is the best in town.

Lightsong: The coffee maker does all the work!

9. Lezian: Keeps forming grudges against coworkers

Lezian: Every time someone else gets chosen for Employee of the Month instead of me...

Lezian: I make it my mission to see them FIRED before the month is OVER!

Kaladin: But that’s...always.

Kaladin: You’re not very good at your job.

Lezian: THAT’S IT

Lezian: YOU’RE ON MY LIST

10. Tress: Really just loves the cups

Tress: Oh! I love your travel mug!

Tress: Where is it from?

11. Vivenna: Gradually has all of her coffeeshop illusions shattered

Vivenna: Man, I really thought people would come in, order off the menu, and then wait politely for their drink to be made and delivered.

Customer: NINE SHOTS OF ESPRESSO! WHIPPED CREAM!

Vivenna: I have seen the darkest parts of humanity.

12. Hoid: Is somehow everyone’s previous coworker

Shallan: Wait, didn’t we work for UberEats together?

Kelsier: No, that’s the bastard who slapped me! In the middle of Walmart! While we were on the clock!

Kaladin: Huh? I think that’s the guy who always changed the radio station in the store I used to work at.

Steris: I think he did Lyft with my sister.

Vivenna: Are you sure? I thought he worked at a bookstore with MY sister.

Sarene: I think I recognize him from my last office job. He never really seemed to do anything.

Adolin: How old IS this guy??

13. Rock: Makes the coffee...very strong

Rock: This is how we drink it where I’m from!

Customer: M-My tongue is dissolving!

14. Jasnah: Doesn’t like coffee

Shallan: You don’t like coffee??

Jasnah: I do not.

Shallan: You work in a coffee shop!

Jasnah: I don’t try to convince others to dislike coffee.

Jasnah: But I do believe that it is an unnecessary contrivance that people depend too much on.

Shallan: I thought you pulled, like, constant all-nighters!

Jasnah: That’s just sheer willpower.

15. Silence: Takes safety rules very seriously

Silence: Hey!

Silence: Wash out that cut, put on a band-aid, and wear gloves! You can’t bleed around food!

Silence: T-turn off that stove! You shouldn’t leave an open flame if you’re not heating something up!

Silence: AND NO RUNNING!

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pastafossa · 1 year

Text

Valentine’s (Matt Murdock x F!Reader, Fic, SFW)

I CHANGED MY MIND AND HAD A BURST OF INSOMNIA/ENERGY SO I WENT INTO MY EDITING FOLDER AND FIXED IT UP, HAVE A SLIGHTLY BELATED VALENTINE’S DAY FIC FOR TRT SET ON WHATEVER IS THEIR FIRST SUPER RELAXED VALENTINE’S.

Rating: T for SMOOCHIN and TOOTH ROTTING FLUFF Wordcount: 1729 Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Reader Warnings: None except THE AFOREMENTIONED FLUFF, they are SICKENINGLY IN LOVE AND ROMANTIC ESPECIALLY MATT, you will be SICK I SAY If you have NOT read my massive saga The Red Thread aka the Daredevil Fic Longer Than The King James Bible, all you need to know is that Ciro is your adopted Mobster dad who took you in when you ran away from some bad folks.

Now let’s have some Matt fluff.

You woke to the warm, rich scent of pancakes and coffee, and the sound of a mug being placed gently on your nightstand.

The sheets rustled next, warmth sliding up over you in bed, and you sighed happily when you felt the gentle brush of his lips against your temple. Those lips traveled down slowly, meandering kisses planted affectionately against your skin, paired with low rumbles of sound as he dragged his nose along your cheek. You hummed, sleepily fumbling one hand up to stroke fondly across his stubbled jaw, almost a full beard now. “Morning I take it?”

“Mhm.” He nuzzled at you until you sleepily tipped your head up to accept his fond kiss. The touch of his lips was nothing but glowing warmth, honey and sunlight on your tongue as he sighed, working his mouth slowly, contently against yours. You could never resist letting him kiss you like this in the soft morning light, as if all the world could take care of itself for a bit while he held you close for just a little longer. Only once he’d drunk his fill did he pull back, just far enough that he could speak, smiling at you as you ran your fingers through his hair. “Happy Valentine’s.”

“It is Valentine's, isn’t it? We actually made it in one piece this time.” Your smile grew wider and so did his as he dipped to kiss you again, your quiet huff of amusement breaking against his grin. “No disasters, no injuries. Mm, wait, you sure you’re not hurt?”

“I stayed away from bullets last night just for you,” he whispered, smirking when you let out a quiet laugh. “Nothing’s in the way today. Just you…” He kissed you again, and then again, over and over as his words dropped into a quiet purr, “...and me… All day. Being romantic.”

“Romantic? And all day?” You arched your brows at him in faux shock. “Something tells me you have a plan.”

He propped himself up with one arm, head in his hand as he smiled down at you, his dark eyes almost grey in the gentle light of morning. “I might,” he teased, his voice warm and still a little thick with sleep. “Even if I hadn’t needed to make reservations for dinner and the Ferris Wheel ride after, or buy what I needed for special pancakes this morning, I kind of needed to plan ahead to get a custom box of chocolate from See’s Candy. They get pretty busy this time of year, as you can imagine.”

Your eyes widened and your head snapped towards the bedroom doorway as if you’d somehow be able to see the familiar white box of chocolate wherever he’d hidden it away.

He… couldn’t have known. You’d never told him, not once.

“You—how did you—”

“I may or may not have spent some time on the phone with Ciro,” he admitted, the fingers of his free hand coming down to run fondly down your cheek. “He went down the menu with me so I could get all of your favorites, along with a few new flavors he thought you might like. Apparently he’s kept your list of favorites all these years.”

See’s Candy.

It was… one of the first things Ciro had encouraged you to try after pulling you off the streets. He’d escorted you into the store the second he’d seen your eyes linger on the storefront you’d both passed by a week later.

You’d never forgotten the gleaming black-and-white floors and the pure white counters, the interior constructed of crisp, clean lines, endless walls lined with shelves holding snow-white boxes and candies wrapped in shiny gold foil. Even more chocolate was on display behind the pristine glass beside the register, mountains and mountains of truffles and fudge and caramels, the air so very rich and sweet in a way you’d never experienced before.

To an escaped lab rat like you, a place like that had seemed the height of luxury after all the scrounging in dumpsters, after the years of eating a set rotation of seven meals chosen for nutrition over pleasure. And in that moment, you’d known there would never be better chocolate than what you could find there.

“I… can I… get one?”

“And which one would you like?”

“I… don’t know. I’ve never had one.”

“Then we will try all of them, I think. Everyone should have a favorite or five.”

“I haven’t had any See’s since Los Angeles,” you whispered, as Matt’s thumb swiped away a hint of wetness that had gathered at the corner of your eye. “I could never risk it. But now they’re back, like they knew I was home again. Jesus, you can’t just romantically sucker-punch me like that. A little warning, Matt.”

“I can take it back if you like—”

“Don’t you dare,” you growled as if you didn’t still have a few tears in your eyes. Matt huffed out a quiet laugh, little crinkles forming at the corner of his eyes. “This is—you keep your hands off that box unless it’s to share with me.”

He arched his brows skeptically. “You’d actually share with me?”

“With you, yes.” You shot him a look. “But anyone beyond these doors will get their hand bitten off.”

“Residents only,” he agreed with a grin, catching your hand and lifting it to his mouth, pressing his lips warmly to the engagement ring on your finger before he tangled his fingers with yours. “I’ll be sure to warn any guests. Our candy.”

“Our candy.”

“Agreed. Now,” he murmured, and though he tried to keep his voice steady, he couldn’t quite hide the eager note creeping into his voice. “Are you going to tell me what that gift under the bed is that you have all wrapped and tied with the bow?”

“I will not,” you said with a huff, ignoring his sad pout. “You don’t get that until later even if we both know that you know it’s a vinyl record. That’s the big gift, to be played after breakfast.”

And, hopefully, it would make Matt feel as good as the candy had made you feel. It wasn’t every day you managed to hunt down a record his dad had loved to play. That had taken a little work, and a few discussions of your own with Maggie, but it had paid off.

Thank God for your respective parents.

“During?” he tried hopefully.

“After.” You leaned up and kissed the tip of his nose, grinning when he immediately ducked to kiss you again. “Mm, after the pancakes. I’m not—mmph—missing out on Matt Murdock pancakes. Even better than your waffles.”

“Our waffles.Our pancakes.”

“Right, how could I forget?” you said with a grin, letting out a laugh as he rolled off you before he reached in to gather you up off the bed. “Matt, Matt—”

“It’s for the pancakes,” he said with a smirk as he lifted you up. You at least managed to clumsily snatch your mug of coffee up on the way past the nightstand. “They’re almost ready, and I’ve decided we should eat out there. We might end up back in here later, and the last thing we need is maple syrup on the sheets.”

“Heaven forbid it clash with the… the blood…”

And you lifted a hand to your mouth as Matt stepped through the door and then stopped, letting you take it in. Because draped between every last ceiling beam was…

Flowers.

Somehow, at some point, after you’d fallen asleep, Matt had apparently gone up the ladder and gotten to work. Garland after garland now hung from the ceiling wherever you looked, a riot of color splashed in shades of brilliant red and bold blue, regal purple and blazing yellow. Woven in and out of those splashes of color were green vines thick with leaves and the faint glimmer of twinkle lights until the whole of the ceiling seemed less manmade and more a forest at night, a canopy of color arranged just for you.

“They’re… they’re silk so there’s no scent to bother me,” he told you nervously, licking his lips as he awaited your reaction. “Foggy said they were colorful, and Karen put little braille labels on the petals so I could make sure I didn’t push clashing colors next to each other. I can’t… tell if that all worked out, obviously, but I thought… it felt nice. Do you… like it?”

Did you like it?

This man—

This man had literally gone up to the fucking ceiling for hours to create a romantic forestscape for you, after tracking down the chocolates you’d loved when you were sixteen, and he was still wondering…

“I know I keep saying this,” you said, your voice half-choked. “But—”

“Good tears or bad tears?” he whispered against your temple, shifting on his feet.

“Good tears. Now hush. I’m trying to compliment you.”

“Sorry.” He kissed your temple and you could feel the relieved grin break across his face, a heavy breath leaving him. “Just wanted to make sure.”

You reached up to wipe at your eyes quickly, before you smiled up at him, reaching up to cup that perfect face of his. Those dark eyes drifted around, glimmering with affection and all the love in the world you could ever want. You brought him in close until you could kiss his chin, his eyes fluttering closed. “I don’t know how you’re real,” you told him with a sigh. “But somehow you are, and you’re here with me, and it’s… the best thing to ever happen to me.”

“Even after… everything that’s—”

“I’d walk through it all again for you in a heartbeat.” You kissed him again, and this time it was his turn to draw in a shaky breath, his turn for his breath to hitch as you whispered, “In an absolute heartbeat, Matt. Never doubt that.”

And as you lay there later on the couch with him beneath a canopy of flowers, his head on your chest, an old record Jack enjoyed playing softly in the background and the scent of chocolate and home in the air, you couldn’t help but lift one hand to wipe at Matt’s cheeks, catching the bit of wetness that had dripped free.

“Good tears or bad tears?” you asked softly.

“Good,” he whispered, curling into you tighter. “I… I missed him. Thank you. I love you.”

“I love you, too. Happy Valentine’s.”

“Happy Valentine’s.”

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ahockeywrites · 3 months

Text

one

link to main masterlist pairing: lila rogers (ofc) x arber xhekaj warnings: none in this chapter authors note: chapter one is here! let me know how you guys are finding it :)

Lila didn’t speak French. Well, not much French. Not enough to hold a conversation with patrons so in the bakery, she was the one creating the baked goods. Bread, croissants, doughnuts, brownies. You name it, she made them with their traditional flavours following family recipes but each week there was a limited-edition delicacy that the shoppers loved. The role in the back of the store allowed Lila baking creativity and freedom that she had never had before.

The Montreal sun basked down on Lila as she made the short walk from Jessica’s house to their bakery. It was an early start for Lila, but she didn’t mind as her finish time was earlier than her aunt’s. A travel mug was a staple in her hand, and she sipped the coffee, savouring the hot liquid as it travelled down her throat.

Her morning routine was always the same. One: heat up all the ovens. Two: make a batch of sourdough, white, rye and wholemeal bread, shape them and leave them in the proving oven. Three: defrost the doughnut dough and start making the filling for them. Four: take out the pre-shaped croissants and other buttery items and put them in the oven to bake for the early morning visitors to the shop. Five: clean out the coffee machine and the front of house so that when her aunt arrived, they could open their doors immediately.

By the time Lila had wiped down the coffee machine and refilled the beans, Jessica arrived through the employee entrance at the back. It wasn’t really an employee entrance because only two of them worked there but that’s what a proper restaurant or bakery would call it so that’s what her and Jessie called it.

Jessica was only a few years older than Lila and were more like close cousins or friends than a traditional aunt and niece. They both shared their family’s blonde hair, green eyes, and shortness with neither of them being taller than five foot three. Lila just pipped Jessica by half an inch and the older woman refused to accept it, even though she knew.

The women worked in tandem until both of their alarms went off to signify that it was seven am and time to open the store. Jessica started welcoming in the early customers and making various types of coffees for the commuters who were on their way to their jobs on the centre of the island. Lila took the opportunity to hide in the back and begin preparing dough and batter for the following day.

The phone rang, probably someone requesting a custom cake or a supplier who wasn’t able to get something they usually requested, and Lila popped out to the front with a fresh tray of bread and doughnuts to restock up the counter. It was almost the lunchtime rush so Lila was pretty sure that it would be quiet as she sat on the stool in front of the cash machine. She made herself a cup of peppermint tea and sipped on it, hoping no customers turned up.

Her phone buzzed and she noticed that the latest post on the bakery’s Instagram had been posted on a travel account and now the following on that account had started going up by the minute. An idea popped into Lila’s head, and she quickly went through her photos to find one she took outside the store with the opening times on the outside. It was perfect because it would give all the new followers information of when the bakery would be open and should increase the profits.

The bell above the door rang and Lila jerked off the chair, almost dropping her phone onto the floor but very thankful that she didn’t as the bakery didn’t make enough for her to replace one just yet. She would need to save for at least another two months to be able to afford that.

“Bonjour,” Lila’s limited French was coming in handy, but she didn’t know how much more of the conversation she could hold up without changing to English.

“Anglais, merci,” the customer asked, and Lila sighed audibly. A chuckle escaped the man’s lips. Thank the heavens that this customer didn’t want to speak French or that they noticed how bad her Quebecois accent was, they felt bad and spoke English to her. One or the other, Lila didn’t mind, it calmed her anxiety down tenfold.

The customer was tall, had shaggy, dark hair paired with chestnut-coloured eyes. His chin and upper lip were dotted with a sparse coating of stubble but not enough to fully cover his light skin, but enough for him to go a few days without shaving before he needed to sort it out.

His face looked familiar to Lila, but she couldn’t place it. She welcomed the customer in English and took his order. Vanilla latte, two apple fritter doughnuts, two croissants and a loaf of sourdough. He didn’t look like a sourdough type of man, but who was Lila to judge.

She was thankful for the regulars who came in every other day for a bread restock, the couple who came in every weekend to get two americano’s with cream and two croissants before going on a walk in one of the local parks, the tourist who had found her Instagram account and wanted to try a speciality doughnut. Lila was thankful for every person who walked through the door and took a chance on a family bakery.

Lila packaged up the items for the customer and even gave him one of their branded tote bags for free. She hoped that by him carrying it, he might become a walking billboard and inadvertently advertise the small family bakery. He was attractive, so it wasn’t an impossibility, Lila thought.

Her body moved across to the cash register and started ringing up all his items as his large hands wrapped around his reusable coffee mug. That reminded her that she needed to put the one-dollar discount that they ran for not using a disposable cup. Save the environment and all that jazz.

“That’ll be twenty-two dollars,” Lila said, feeling more comfortable speaking English than French. The customer’s lips curled into a smile as he reached into his jacket pocket to collect his wallet and bringing out a credit card. He tapped it on the reader before wishing Lila well and waving before he went back outside into the Montreal weather.

That was one customer that Lila wouldn’t mind seeing again.

#ahockeywrites #nhl imagine #nhl fanfiction #hockey writing #nhl writing #hockey story #hockey fic #nhl fic #ax72

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freesia-writes · 1 year

Note

Hey there,

congrats on your 500 milestone. If I may put in a request, could you perhaps do: "Don't ever do that again! You have no idea what it does to me…" with Wrecker. Love seeing how writers tackle the big guy's main weakness.

Cheers,

Hi! Hello! Hey! Remember this request from like six frickin weeks ago?! ;) I got wildly derailed by Sharp Edges blossoming off of Lightwise's Crosshair request, but bada bing bada boom... I'm BACK baby! So thank you so much for your patience, and I hope this is everything you ever wanted it to be. It really made my heart swell while writing it. All the puppy dog eyes for our sweet big boy!

Wrecker x Reader Word Count: 3.1k

You’d been serving at the cafe for years, having perfected your duties down to mindlessly rote repetition. The customers and cooks loved you equally, with your sugary-sweet disposition and affinity for lavishing anyone and everyone with affection that left them feeling as though they were floating on the clouds. You’d long since abandoned your hopes at romance, after a trail of failed relationships left you jaded and insecure, and had instead resorted to content yourself with a quiet life of work, reading, and occasional travel. The cafe was centrally located on a variety of trade routes that kept it bustling with interesting characters, bringing news and stories, often quite embellished, of the galaxy beyond the diner’s crumbling brick walls.

The bell on the door chimed cheerfully one morning, and as you looked up with a bright smile to greet the arrivals as usual, your eyes widened as you took in the hulking mass of a man that squeezed inside. You’d seen almost every shape and size of creature over the years, but his apparently human appearance was a stark contrast to his sheer brawn, made even more unique by his seeming lack of an eye and the spidery scar tissue that branched out from his ear across his face.

“Well hello, sugar,” you purred out of habit, sidling up to him with a coffee pot in your hand, “Haven’t seen you in here before.”

“Uh, yeah,” he said slowly, seeming to still be groggy from sleep as he ran a large hand over his bald head, “Just had a minute to grab something to eat…” His eyes roved across the setting before him: two long rows of cushy booths, ragged from the endless cycle of hungry patrons sliding in and out of them, and an endless supply of decor and memorabilia scattered across the walls and shelves -- photos, trinkets, signs, plants… He snapped out of his distracted gazing when you laid a gentle hand on his forearm, gesturing toward the counter.

“Why don’t you grab a seat up there and I’ll be right over?”

He grunted his thanks in a deep, throaty voice, shuffling to his assigned seat and completely dwarfing the stool as he settled down upon it. The menu looked like a business card in his hands as he perused it, and when you finished making the rounds of refilling thick ceramic coffee mugs, you slid the carafe back under the warmer and turned to face him.

“Anything strike your fancy, big boy?” you asked, pet names falling from your lips as naturally as breathing. He seemed surprised by it though, and looked up at you with a slightly baffled expression. His lifted eyebrows widened his eyes, shifting a battle-hardened stare into a disarmingly innocent curiosity, and you were shocked to feel a little flip in your chest.

“I… ah… I think I’d like this…” he said slowly, pointing to precisely what you would have chosen for him. You nodded, jotting it down in slight relief at the return to normal interaction, “And… could I add this too, please?” You followed his finger and raised your eyes to his, smiling warmly, and you could swear you saw the tiniest hint of red creep across his scar-speckled cheeks.

“Of course,” you answered, giving his hand a pat. “Might take a few extra minutes because Mo is a little swamped back there, but you just sit tight and that will be right out. Can I get you some caf in the meantime?”

He glanced down at the mug on the counter, untouched beside the silverware and napkin, and raised his eyes back to yours with an almost childish sheepishness, “Actually, do you have a fizz?”

Your grin broke your lips apart into genuine delight, and you chuckled fondly as you turned toward the refrigerator behind. “I do indeed,” you affirmed, popping the cap off and sliding the curved bottle across the counter to him. “Be back soon, honey.”

You’d grown busy quickly after that, with a rush of patrons that all seemed to have decided to arrive at the same time, and as you bustled about the diner, gliding effortlessly between tables and your coworkers, you were unaware of the stolen glances that were sent your way from the counter. When his plates finally appeared with a ding on the warming shelf, you ran them over with an apologetic tilt of the head. He was nothing but grace and patience, however, again giving you pause at the kind energy he exuded. You were curious to learn more about this new visitor, but there wasn’t a minute to spare, and after a flurry of orders taken, guests seated, and tables cleaned, you looked back to discover the stool was empty. Next to the immaculately-cleaned plates sat his bill, along with a handful of credits on it to cover the total as well as a tip. You were surprised to note the sinking feeling of disappointment, but had no time to dwell on it as the breakfast rush was still in full swing.

It was nearly a month later when he appeared again, and you had almost forgotten about his initial visit, writing it off as one of the many single customers that would drop in and never be seen again. But as the perky ding announced his arrival, you watched him amble to the same seat at the counter, catching your eye with a grin and a wave. It was later this time -- the quiet lull between morning and afternoon -- and a disproportionate eagerness bubbled up within as you trotted over to greet him.

“Hi handsome!” you said brightly, again feeling light-headed at the puppy-dog eyes and bashful crooked grin that painted his face in response, “You’re back!”

“Yeah, we pass through here every so often…” he answered, fiddling with the corner of the menu underneath his fingernail. You had some time to spare, and leaned on your elbows, falling into easy conversation about the menu, the diner, and his travels.

“I never caught your name, sweetheart,” you said suddenly, tilting your head as you studied his features.

“Wrecker,” he said, in a mixture of pride and bemusement. You laughed, all joy and no mockery, clapping your hand over his own as it sat in a fist on the counter.

“Of course,” you exclaimed, reveling in the perfectly-fitting name for such a hulking beast of a man. “I imagine you’re quite the formidable force, aren’t you?” Your tone was light and playful, and he was taken aback for a mere second before he lowered his chin and gave you a more determined look.

“You could say that,” he said in a low voice, and you felt your stomach twist in a quick clench that made you inhale sharply.

He began to make a regular appearance at your counter, never in any regular rhythm but sporadic visits peppered throughout the weeks. You found yourself making excuses to touch him more, leaning against him when you took his order from his side, brushing your fingers across his shoulders as you passed by to ask if he wanted a refill, and resting your arm on the counter right next to his when you both bent over the menu in a silly excuse to be close -- he ordered the same thing every time. He watched you, too, when you weren’t looking, taking in the way you coddled each customer, laughing at their jokes and patting them on the back, bestowing nicknames and meaningless affections indiscriminately.

You began to give him little extras as well -- kitchen mistakes or “accidental” slips of your own hand that would result in a plate of fresh fruit or an extra bottle of fizz that had been mistakenly opened and was unable to be put back -- and wiped the tables as quickly as you could to glean every spare minute to listen to his stories. When he showed up one day with an entire arm bandaged to his side, as well as a scattering of small patches covering parts of his face, you felt a disproportionate surge of fear and protectiveness.

“What happened?” you gasped, reaching for his cheek without thinking. He shrugged dismissively, casting a glance to the ground as though he were getting in trouble.

“It’s nothing,” he said, “Workplace hazard, you know…”

“You’ve got to be careful, sweet boy,” you murmured, stroking the side of his face before dropping your hand, not missing the heat that radiated off of him. “Can’t have you blowing yourself up out there.”

“You can’t do that…” Wrecker began, but his words were lost as you were whisked away. You’d turned to answer a call from the back, and he had shuffled to his counter seat, touching the spot on his cheek with his own hand and a soft expression.

A few more visits came and went, punctuated with jokes and stories, playful banter and comfortable chatter. The morning rush had died down, with a handful of tables remaining hunched over their plates. A sharp voice broke through the hubbub, catching your attention.

“Oy! Get over here!” A hand waved from the corner booth, where a motley crew of Weequay pirates and humans sat with one of the most lumpy-headed Twi’leks you’d ever seen. You lowered your brows, approaching the table warily with a steaming carafe of caff in your hand. You weren’t one to take any ill treatment, and were just as happy throwing someone out on their ass as you were making them blush with your saccharine praises.

“Problem, fellas?” you crooned, pursing your lips as your eyes roved from one to the next.

“Yeah, you’re takin’ way too long!” said one of the pirates, baubles tinkling on his head and chest. “Our food’s getting cold while you’re drooling over the counter at that big lump!” He jerked his head toward Wrecker, who was still and unmoving, eyes fixed on the situation.

“Your food isn’t ready yet, honey” you returned evenly, pulling some cream cups and sugar packets from your apron pocket and scattering them across the table before topping off their mugs. “Why don’t you enjoy a few more sips of caf, and it’ll be out before you know it.”

The Twi’lek picked up one of the creamer pods, inspecting it for a moment with a malicious glint in his eye, then turned and flung it right at your face, where it bounced off your forehead and fell on the ground. Your gasp of surprise sent him into peals of laughter, and the others joined in.

“Why don’t you go get our food before we make you regret coming to work today?” one of the humans jabbed, and the next thing you knew, you were being shoved aside by one strong arm. Wrecker had appeared behind you, jostling forward to place himself between you and the table at the last vitriolic utterance, and he rose to his full height, cracking his knuckles as he looked at each of them in turn.

“Oh look, big old loverboy is here to--” the Weequay never finished his nasally taunt, instead finding himself lifted by the scruff of the neck and tossed straight behind the counter, where he crashed into a trash can and a pile of empty bottles that clattered around his crumpled form. His cronies flew to their feet immediately, with as much intimidation as they could muster in the awkward movements of getting out of a booth, and banded together to face Wrecker with faces set in grim resolution. The diner grew quiet, a thick tension settling into the air, as the other customers watched with apprehension.

“Anyone else?” he invited, eyebrows set low in a menacing stare.

“Wrecker,” you whispered, pulling on his arm from behind, “You’re going to destroy the entire restaurant.” He hesitated, tilting his head to indicate he’d heard you, then looked back to the snarling band of insulted hotheads before him.

“Yeahhhhh, don’t mess up her pretty little restaurant!” the Twi’lek mocked, making Wrecker’s decision for him. He moved like a flash, swiping his arms out to the sides and taking advantage of their neatly-lined up stance to smack all their heads together in one sickening, echoed thud that dropped all four to the ground immediately, passed out cold. You gasped, taking a step back at the unexpected movement, mouth open in shock and awe. A few patrons burst into laughter and applause, cheering from their booths, and the cooks yelled a chorus of approval from behind the thin window that opened to the kitchen. Wrecker slowly turned to face you, eyebrows that had been razor-sharp a moment ago curving up to regard you with earnest curiosity.

“Sorry…” he began, but you flung yourself against him, stretching to get your arms around him as much as you could to pull him into a tight, appreciative hug. He paused for a moment, then slowly enveloped you in his embrace, mind buzzing as the rest of the cafe returned to their conversations and meals. You pulled back, looking up at him with admiration and cupping his face in one hand, caressing his cheekbone with your thumb.

“Don’t be sorry! You’re my hero, sweetheart. My beautiful big--”

You didn’t get to finish what you were saying, as he bit his lip, brows furrowing suddenly, and tore himself from your grasp, disappearing out the back door. Frozen for a second in a dumbfounded stupor, you grabbed a coworker’s elbow as she passed by, “Can you cover my tables real quick?” She nodded, giving you a knowing wink, and you turned to follow Wrecker into the alley behind the diner. He was pacing restlessly, rubbing the back of his neck with a hand and muttering at the ground. When he heard the door close behind you, he glanced at you with those puppy dog eyes again, then bit his lip and continued his movements.

“Hey baby…” you crooned, not seeing him wince slightly at your voice, “What’s the matter?”

He slowed, dropping his hand from his neck and pausing to regard you evenly. His face was a kaleidoscope of expressions, impossible to read, and you were clueless to the turmoil within. You didn’t know how much you’d grown on him over the last number of months, how frequently his thoughts turned to you, how your gentle touches made his heart swell in his chest. But he’d also seen how you lavished such affection on everyone, and he felt an increasing sense of internal conflict that was driving him crazy, trying to discern if he were just another customer or… more than that.

"Don't ever do that again! You have no idea what it does to me…" he said suddenly, the vehemence in his gravelly voice stunning you a few steps back as he stared at you. Your mind was racing, trying to catch up, and his body was still coursing from the adrenaline of the last few minutes.

“...do what?” you asked, holding your hands up in helpless surrender. Your large eyes met his, round and unguarded, brimming with emotion. He melted inside at your genuine confusion, and he dropped his chin toward the ground, rubbing his forehead in consternation. “Wrecker, I’m sorry,” you began, still unsure of what you were apologizing for, but you ached to see him this way. You drew nearer, tentatively, and laid a hand on his forearm. He dropped his arms to his sides, taking a deep breath and raising his gaze to your face.

“It’s okay,” he said, quietly now, with a crack in his voice that tugged at your heart. “I just…” he fumbled, casting his eyes about as if the words would appear to him somewhere in the alleyway, and settled for a disappointed grunt. A realization hit you, a possibility, a chance… it blossomed warm throughout your limbs. You were wildly unsure, but propelled onward by an unseen force as you slowly stepped closer, bringing yourself within inches of his hulking form, which was uncharacteristically deflated.

“Hey,” you said, soft as velvet, coaxing him to look at you. His mouth twisted, eyes reluctantly lifting to yours. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable…” you ventured, reaching up to ghost your fingers across his cheek precariously, heart thrilling when he closed his eyes and leaned into your palm ever so slightly. “Oh…” you breathed, feeling one of his strong arms slip around your waist, pulling you flush against his broad chest. His eyes opened, rendering you frozen to the spot, and his face curved into a blissful grin.

“I was afraid I liked it too much,” he murmured, capturing you with his gaze, unfathomably soft and yet enticingly intense. “I mean, you’re so sweet to everyone…” You beamed at him, looping your other arm around his neck, positively vibrating with the tingles that resulted from your body being pressed against his.

“It’s my job,” you conceded, “But… I’ve got a particular sweet spot for you, Wrecker.” His tiny gasp was overwhelmingly endearing, and a giggle slipped past your lips, drawing his eyes down to them. He bit his lip, eyebrows drawing together as he darted his gaze back to yours for a moment, then swallowed hard. The slow lean that brought his face to yours seemed to take an eternity, and you relaxed your eyes closed, feeling his arms draw you in more tightly, still holding you as gently as a fragile treasure. When he pressed his mouth against yours, sweet and salty and so soft, you sighed in utter bliss, tilting your head to nuzzle more closely against him. He lingered for a moment, then pulled away with a quiet smack and a sharp inhale, looking down at you in adorable surprise.

He opened his mouth to speak, but finding no words whatsoever, slowly closed it. You slid your hands down his chest, wrapping him in a hug and turning your head sideways to lean against him. His heartbeat pounded against your ear, charming you again with the disproportionate tenderness that resided beneath his intimidating brawn, and one of his hands roved soothingly up and down your back. He sent another burst of tingles through you when he pressed another kiss to the top of your head, causing you to pull away to look up at his affectionate face once again.

“I have to get back to work,” you admitted, hating every word. He let out a breath, nodding slowly, then pinched your chin with gentle fingers, white and brown eyes soaking up your presence as though it were life itself.

“Maybe I can come by when you get off.”

“I’d love that.”

#the bad batch #tbb #bad batch #star wars the bad batch #tbb wrecker #the bad batch wrecker #wrecker x reader #bad batch wrecker #wrecker #wrecker fluff #wrecker fanfic #wrecker one shot #tbb one shots

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prettyyoungandbored · 7 months

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Dork - Danny Cordray

Pairing: Danny Cordray x Fem!OC

Author’s Note: This was one of the most difficult things I’ve ever written. I love this show so much and never did I think would do write an Office fic. So, because this is The Office, yes the OC will have a camera interview. Anything that is bold and italicized is her giving the on-camera interview. I hope you enjoy!

P.S. Any direct quotes from the show belong to the writers.

NOT MY GIF

Surprisingly, Danny Cordray being handsome was the second thing people were talking about. The first was the fact that he and Pam went on two dates two years ago.

And man, did the office run wild with that. Even if somehow Michael Scott strangely didn’t.

For Tessa Connelly, she felt bad that it was all people were talking about. She was friends with Pam and Pam was happily married with a kid. She moved on. Why couldn’t everybody else?

“I wanna say they’ll get over it, but you and I both know that will take forever,” Tessa chuckled, as the two women stood in the kitchen. “How were the dates though?”

“I had fun,” Pam replied. “But he didn’t call me after the second one so, I don’t know. Guess he wasn’t having as much fun.” She paused. “Not that it matters.”

“No, but I would question it too,” Tessa assured. “I’ve been in that position before and it’s the worst. How’s Jim handling it?”

“He’s frazzled but won’t admit it.”

The brunette chuckled. “Color me shocked. He’ll get over it. At least he will before everyone else does.”

Just as Pam was leaving the break room, Danny entered and his eyes met Tessa’s. She gave him a small smile.

“Hi, I don’t think we’ve met yet,” he said, holding out his hand. He flashed a million dollar smile that elicited butterflies in her stomach. “I’m Danny. I just joined the sales team.”

“Tessa,” she said, shaking his hand.

“And what do you do here?”

“I’m a customer service rep.”

He hummed, leaning on the counter. “Well, I can promise you you’ll only get glowing reviews about me.”

Her lips pursed as she nodded.

She pointed at him. “Lemme guess, salesman.”

“Traveling salesman,” he corrected politely.

She hummed. “Not much of a desk guy, huh?”

He shook his head. “I don’t like being tied down a whole lot.”

Ok, NOW I get why he only went on two dates with Pam. It all makes sense now.

She raised her mug. “Well, Danny, it was nice to meet you.”

“It was really nice to meet you as well,” he replied.

She just nodded and continued walking.

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

The next day was the Halloween party. Tessa decided to keep it simple with a basic cat costume. She had the ears and drew the nose and whiskers, donning a black button down shirt with the sleeves rolled up and a black pencil skirt.

She walked into the break room to get coffee at the same time Danny was.

“Nice costume,” he remarked. “I, uh, didn’t realize people took Halloween here seriously.”

“There’s a costume contest today,” she said, pouring coffee into her mug.

“I assume you’re entering?”

She shook her head. “I don’t care to.”

“But you’re dressed up.”

“Thats the fun of Halloween,” she said. “You dress up to be whoever or whatever you want.”

He nodded. “I didn’t think about that. Then again, I’ve never been a costume guy.”

“You’re missing out.”

“Well, for what it’s worth I’d vote for you in the costume contest.”

She couldn’t help but notice Danny Cordray’s smile and how it complimented his overall charming demeanor. She wondered if his looks was what made him a good salesman. He could sell meat to vegetarian with one single look.

Then she remembered his words. “I don’t like being tied down a whole lot.” He was obviously flirting with her just to get her in bed and then continue on to the next woman.

The worst part is how much she liked it.

“MeOW! Look at you dressed as my favorite thing in the world!”

She groaned, knowing damn well who that voice belonged too.

“Packer, I will stab you with my pencil,” she retorted.

Todd Packer, dressed as a pregnant nun, meddled in between her and Danny.

“Fiesty and violent, just how I like ‘em,” he smirked.

Before she could say something, Danny stepped in between.

“So, I need help finding the conference room for the meeting,” he said, looking at Tessa. “Can you show me where it is?”

She smiled at him gratefully. “Sure. Follow me.”

She walked out into the office with Danny right beside her. Once they were out of Packer’s sight, she turned and said, “Thanks for that. He’s a traveling salesman who truly has no business being in this office. Or even just existing.”

“No problem,” Danny chuckled. “I can promise you, not traveling salesmen are like that.”

She smiled. “I sure hope not.”

“So, um, I already told everyone else but my buddies and I are having a Halloween thing at our bar,” he said. “You should come.”

“You co-own a bar?” she asked. “Why am I not surprised?”

He made a face. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing at all. You just have a bar owner vibe about you.”

“Is that a good thing?”

“Yes, it is,” she laughed. “Don’t overthink it. What’s the name of the bar?”

“Public School.”

She cocked her head back. “That’s quite a name. I’ll definitely-.”

She turned to see the office staring at her, including Pam who was the only one smiling.

She looked over back at Danny. “I’ll think about it.”

Just because I’m being nice doesn’t mean I’m flirting with him. You can talk to an attractive man without flirting with him.

Don’t get me wrong, he’s cute. But I just…I mean…guys like him, you know. He’s a bachelor. He prefers the bachelor lifestyle. And it seems to suit him. Like he seems nice and he smells really nice and has a great smile-.

Oh [BEEP] off!

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

“You going to Danny’s bar tonight?”

She glanced up from her computer to see Andy and Kevin standing there.

“I don’t know yet,” she shrugged.

“Is it because he went out with Pam two years ago?” Kevin asked.

She sighed. “Ok, you guys have got to cut it out with that.”

Andy laughed. “Sounds like someone’s a little bit jealous.”

“How am I-you know what?”

She got up from her desk and walked into the break room where Danny was talking with Jim and Pam.

“Do you honestly wanna know why I didn't call her back on a date over four years ago?” Danny asked.

“Hey, she had a nice time,” Jim said defensively.

“I did,” Pam chimes in. “Yeah, and it's one of those things that's just gonna keep gnawing at me. Like, gnaw, gnaw...’Why? Why didn't he? I have no idea why.’”

“Okay, honestly,” Danny sighed. I didn't call you back because I just thought you seemed a little dorky.”

Silence fell. Tessa’s heart sank to her stomach as she watched Pam’s demeanor soften into embarrassment.

“Hey, man,” Jim stepped in.

“Thank you!” Pam cut him off, over enthusiastically. “Thank you. I got it. Now I know. You thought I was a little dorky.”

Tessa couldn’t just stand there and do nothing.

“You know what, I don’t think I should come tonight,” she spoke up.

Danny, Jim, and Pam looked over at her.

“I don’t want to be around people who don’t appreciate how awesome us dorks are,” she snapped.

Danny opened his mouth to say something when Tessa turned around, heading back to her office.

I said what I said. Look, yes, he’s gorgeous but…it’s not worth entertaining. Not with someone like him.

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

Tessa spent the rest of Halloween in the annex working. She figured with the costume contest and whatever conflict Michael and Darryl were dealing with, she could get her work done and slip out of here without dealing with Danny ever again.

“You didn’t have to do that.”

She looked over to see Pam standing by Tessa’s desk.

“It wasn’t right,” Tessa shrugged. “Besides, if you’re a dork then I’m a loser.”

Pam chuckled. “He actually apologized to me and Jim. It was actually really sincere.”

“That’s nice.”

“Tess, cmon. You should give him a chance, you know. He means well, and he clearly likes you. And I know you like him too.”

She sighed as she set her pencil down. “It’s not worth it and quite frankly, I don’t see it ending well.”

Pam pulled out a folded scrap of paper. Tessa unfolded it, revealing name written on it.

“I didn’t even-.”

“He wrote it,” Pam said. “It was the only handwriting I couldn’t recognize.”

Tessa sighed, the knot in her stomach tightened.

“Don’t not do it because of me,” Pam said. “Just…you know, think about it.”

Tessa nodded as Pam grabbed her arm. “C’mon. Jim brought Cece and she’s all dressed up.”

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

When Tessa walked out to the office, the first thing she noticed was Jim, dressed as Popeye, holding baby Cece.

“Oh my god, she’s Sweet Pea!” Tessa beamed.

She made her way over, holding out her arms. Jim handed her the baby as she continued to coo at Cece.

“What a cutie you are in your costume!” she said. “Best one I’ve seen today!”

“I actually like the Popeye cartoons.”

She looked over to see Danny standing there. He continued. “I always liked cartoons. Still kind of do. The old school Looney Tunes make me laugh.”

Tessa pulled back her lips. “What if I were to tell you that sometimes I still watch those cartoons? Is that too dorky for you?”

He smiled. “I would say that sometimes Public School has the old school Looney Tunes playing on one of TVs and if you don’t believe me, you should come check it out for yourself.”

Tessa looked at Cece.

“You know, Cece,” she began, “Danny here really wants me to go to his bar. Give me a smile if you think I should go.”

Cece smiled and began babbling. Tessa looked over at Danny.

“What time should I be there?” she asked.

I guess I figured I’d been too judgemental. Besides, Pam gave me her blessing. I’m just going to go for a couple drinks. See what happens.

#Timothy Olyphant #The Office #The Office fic #Timothy Olyphant fanfic

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manicpixxiedreambitch · 6 months

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Some creative gift ideas for all the uncreative people out there who are sick of giving basic ass gifts (budget friendly)

- Go to the store. Find your way to the candle aisle. Now what you’re gonna do is smell candles until you find one that has a smell that reminds you of the person you’re gifting for. Buy it. When you get home, get out your computer and get on canva. Make a custom label with the person’s name on it, the fragrance notes, and a short, sweet description of that person and why those smells remind you of them. Then print it out and make it into a sticker (you can easily make a sticker with large clear tape over the print, just look up DIY stickers). Take off the original label and put the hand made sticker on instead. If you want, you could even make a candle out of wax melts, a mason jar, and some wicks if you feel like it.

- If you are good with crafts, USE THOSE TO YOUR ADVANTAGE.

-If you can knit or crochet, make a blanket, scarf, a pair of mittens, or a stuffed animal.

- Take a picture frame. Get a printed picture of you and the person. Press flowers (if you’re lazy, you can literally press flowers in the microwave in less than two minutes. Look it up.). Arrange the flowers and picture in the frame how you want (be sure to wear gloves and clean the glass first! You dont want there to be eternal fingerprints on the glass!) and grab the tacky glue. Gently apply a small dab of tacky glue to each flower and glue it firmly in place. Do the same with the picture. Close up the frame, wrap, and you are GOLDEN.

- Go to the store. Grab a travel cup or mug (or go to the person’s favorite coffee shop and buy a travel mug there). Go to the candy aisle. Grab a bag of their favorite candy, along with two king sized candy bars, and any other little knickknacks you think they might like. Put it all in the cup and put on the lid.

- Grab a box. Figure out the person’s favorite color. Go to Dollar Tree, Five Below, Walmart, Target, wherever you want. Just find things in that person’s favorite color. Socks, gloves, candy, drinks, accessories, gift cards, candles, soaps, anything. Grab some easter basket filler paper (idk what it’s actually called) in that color (or if it doesn’t come in that color, do black or white. Those will do.) and some construction paper in that color. Now, add the filler paper, then the knickknacks, then glue or tape the construction paper to the inside of the cardboard lid. Write a note if you want. Wrap it up and you are good to go.

-Make jewelry. Trust me. All you need is a chain, a clasp, some charms/beads, and a pair of pliers. The rest is kind of self explanatory but if you don’t understand this explanation for some reason feel free to ask.

- Put together a small thrifted surprise box for the person (wash the clothes first though and make sure they’re okay with that sort of thing!)

- Make something out of clay. Jewelry, room decor, etc.

- Go find one of those letter cutout boxes with the letter of their first initial. Find fake flowers in their favorite color (you can probably find this at dollar tree), then go find a bunch of small knickknacks like jewelry, candy, soaps, etc. Grab floral foam. Fill the letter box with floral foam (if you want, spray paint the box first) Stab the flowers into the floral foam. Grab kabob sticks, cut to desired length. Tape the knickknacks to the kabob sticks and stab them into the floral foam like you did the flowers.

- Go to a thrift store. First go to the basket section. Find a picnic basket. Then go find some teacups, a small charcuterie board, pretty plates, and maybe some pretty silverware (or if you think it would be weird to do silverware from a thrift store, grab it from walmart or target or smth) If you’re an adult, go ahead and find a wine glass or two. After that, you want to go to Walmart. Find a picnic blanket, or a picnic table cloth. If you get the picnic table cloth and have ametuer sewing skills, grab two. Then grab some of the person’s favorite snacks and drinks. Go home and put it all together in the basket. If you chose to grab two table cloths so you can sew, measure the interior of the picnic basket and (assuming it’s square) cut out the dimensions on one of the table cloths and sew them together into a “box” (pattern facing the inside of the box, fuzzy part outside) and put the “box” inside the picnic basket. Now it has a cute, protective interior inside, and the other tablecloth can be used as a picnic blanket. Once its all arranged, you have made a cute picnic set for the person!

- Find a book you like, reread it, and annotate it for them. Then wrap it up. Typically you want a new book for this.

- Go to a craft store. Buy a baseball cap or a cute hat with nothing on it, or if you want, grab a tote bag or something. Grab fabric paint. Custom paint the item for the person.

#gift ideas #birthdays #christmas gift #get creative

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knkkrafts · 2 years

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Meet the “knk krafts” Creating All Your Kids “Customized Gear”

Over time, different personalized gifts have become a desirable option for gift-givers that can be gifted to practically anyone at any event. These personalized gifts help nurture all kinds of relationships, either through Personalized gifts for mother’s day, gifts for father’s day, or Thank you gifts for teachers, celebrate all coocassions and make them stronger with time.

#Personalised Night Lights for Kids #Custom Made Night Lights for Kids #Gifts for Father's Day #Personalized Gifts for Mother's Day #Custom Made Travel Coffee Mugs #Custom Cake Toppers for All Occasions

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mistydeyes · 11 months

Note

Hi! I saw youre doing pairings and as a new follower I have been obsessed with your writing and was wondering if I could get a mw2 pairing? (if not just ignore this!)

I'm 5'6" with dirty blonde hair and blue eyes. I'm a fairly introverted person but I prefer to surround myself with more extroverted people (I low-key thrive on chaos and like noise around me almost all the time it's bad lmao). Im getting my BA in communications and plan to open my own coffee shop later down the road once I find a good place far from home to settle. I don't want kids and I plan to travel a lot once I'm done with schooling. I have a dog but I plan to adopt more from the shelter nearest me once I get settled after uni. I read and write quite a bit in my free time and I've taken up collecting old/original but still very much usable vinyls for my record collection. I've also started crocheting and sewing with the intentions of making my own clothes. I also hate cardio. it's absolutely horrible and you can most defintely find me lifting weights lol...Im considered plus size weight wise but build wise I've heard a lot of people call me mid size. I usually don't pay much attention to those labels though just because it's better for my mental health. anxiety is a big struggle when it comes to my weight so I usually just do what makes me most happy that day! thank you so much and keep up the amazing writing!<3 (sorry this is so long lol)

( @hxad-ovxr-hxart for some reason it's only letting me send anons rn :/)

John Price (a/n love you @hxad-ovxr-hxart!! ur reblogs and tags always make me smile! i hope you enjoy :))

How you met: Civilian An iddylic coffee shop set in the countryside of Herefordshire was your dream. After uni, it took you a few years but you finally achieved your small slice of heaven. You made the short commute from your cozy cottage and smiled as you saw the sage green awning of your shop. You weren't alone as you were accompanied by your loyal Border Collie. You rewarded your companion with a treat as you stocked the small glass displays with baked goods and wrote out the menu for the day. The morning was slow as a few of your regulars came in for their usual brews and to pet their favorite employee. Eventually around noon, a man entered and greeted your pleasantly. "Just a black coffee, love," he said as you grabbed a mug for him. "It'll be ready right away, sir," you started to say, "you can wait for it at the end." He smiled and nodded in response and as you brewed his coffee, you could hear him happily "chatting" with your pet. "Well aren't you a beauty," he said and you could see your pup happily wagging her tail and leaning into his hand. "She definitely likes you," you said as you handed him his mug. He thanked you and went to sit at one of the tables with pothos vines providing an overhead cabana. Your dog followed at his ankles and sat at his feet as he casually sipped. Eventually, after a few more customers, he handed the mug back to you. "Best brew I've had," he complimented and you blushed slightly, "I'll definitely be back." With that he winked with his charming blue eyes and left your shop. You had to hold your dog in your arms as she tried to run after the man.

A peek into your relationship: You and Price were hosting the members of the 141 and their families at your coffee shop for a much needed reunion. Kyle's wife gently rocked their baby in her arms as you sat with her and discussed some crocheting projects. Their little daughter, Ivy, was cooing as she toyed with her new crochet sweater, courtesy of you. John was enjoying some spiked coffee with his men and Johnny's wife was entertaining the entire group with jokes and stories about their growing family. Eventually, John joined you as you saw his team enjoying the food you both had prepared and entertaining their small army of kids. Simon's daughter was trying to climb her dad's shoulders as he stood there chatting with Johnny. "Glad we never had to go through that," you remarked as you saw how Johnny's kids were now trying to chase your dog around. "Saved a lot of money," John replied and slowly sipped on his coffee. He was right, every year you were able to travel around the world and had crossed off every continent, including Antartica, off your list. The next few weeks you would preparing for a trip to Italy where you would both enjoy the beautiful coastline and the delicacies. As you both laughed at the antics surrounding you, Simon's daughter ran up to you and asked, "Aunt Sky, can you please make me a hot chocolate?" You smiled as you got up and gently kissed John on the cheek. You walked behind your barista counter and as you were preparing her order, you laughed as you saw that your dog had replaced your seat and was now sitting on John's lap.

#izziespairings #madebyizzie #cod mwii #mw2 imagine #task force 141 #captain john price #john price x reader #mw2

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mortemoppetere · 4 months

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TIMING: recent LOCATION: in the woods PARTIES: @bountyhaunter & @mortemoppetere SUMMARY: daiyu bites off more than she can chew when fighting a garkain. unfortunately, emilio helps. CONTENT: mentions of past domestic abuse (hunter variety), gun use

Vampires posed a challenge. Unlike the beasts Daiyu typically hunted, there was no keen sense for them rippling through her system — there was just her own flimsy instincts and the focus they required. Garkains especially asked for an approach that didn’t befit the ranger. They were ambushers and should logically not be fought with hand-to-hand combat (though if pressed she’d certainly try), which was how she preferred to face her problems. But Daiyu liked a challenge. Nothing like some risk to remind you you’re alive.

So she had been tracking the Garkain for the better part of a day, wearing insulated underwear (embarrassing) and carrying a flask of hot tea with her. She liked being out in the woods. It was what she had liked most about the hunt from a young age, the stalking past leaves and trees, breathing in the scent of pines. The way frost looked on moss. It was perhaps the only place she could feel peaceful.

She’d closed in on the Garkain, now. It was important to get it in one shot: if it spotted her and dropped down, she was dead meat. They were tall things, after all, and she was not. (She did not want to acknowledge this fact, however.) Daiyu was crouched down, undoing her pack from her back and reaching for her hunter’s rifle. She’d gotten wooden bullets custom made. Her family didn’t typically hunt vampires, but they also didn’t tend to hunt for profit like she was now.

As she busied herself by slotting wooden rounds into her gun, her eyes traveled around. And there, perched similarly to her in the overgrowth of the forest was a man. Bundled up near comically. She eyed him for a moment, then gestured to him. She nearly snapped her fingers, then remembered the blood-and-guts thirsty monster in the tree above the pair of them. “Hey, go away.” She was mouthing the word, waving at him to find the path again.

—

It was fucking cold. Part of Emilio wanted nothing more than to hunker down with the heat on full blast and as many blankets as he could find stacked on top of him, but that wasn’t entirely feasible. There were still things to be done, after all; maybe even more than usual. The goo issue might have been resolved, but Wicked’s Rest wasn’t the sort of place that gave anyone a break for long.

Exhibit fucking A: there was a goddamn garkain wreaking havoc in the woods. Because of course it was in the woods. It couldn’t have been stirring shit up in a nice insolated, heated building, couldn’t have been murdering people next to the comfort of a hot furnace. It had to be in the middle of the goddamn woods, in the fucking snow, because Maine was a goddamn fucking nightmare. Fuck.

Emilio was wearing several jackets. A hoodie, stolen from Teddy’s closet, was on the bottom layer. He’d never admit it, but there was something comforting about wearing that closer to his chest, something nice about the way it still sort of smelled like Teddy even underneath a pile of other jackets. His usual leather jacket was on top of it, another coat zipped over that. A knitted hat sat on his head, covering his hair and ears. He was even wearing more than one pair of pants.

And he was still fucking cold.

All he wanted was to kill this thing and go home, to get it over with as soon as he could so that he could get a mug of dangerously hot coffee and set something on fire to warm himself. But, evidently, this would need to wait. Because there was a woman standing behind a tree moving her mouth at him. A woman with… a gun? Christ, what a useless fucking thing.

He couldn’t make out what she was trying to say; when English was your second language, trying to translate it without sound to assist you was near impossible. But he got the idea that she wanted him to leave, and he bristled at the thought. Did she know what she was getting into here? He doubted it. Even most slayers weren’t reckless enough to take on a garkain alone. Emilio was, as per usual, the exception to that particular rule.

He knew of only one way to tell her that he would not be leaving without alerting the garkain to his presence; it was a fairly universal thing, he thought, something that would be understood by just about anyone. Slowly, deliberately, he raised a hand. A single finger stood up while the rest went down. His expression was blank. He preferred to let the finger do the talking.

—

As a child, Daiyu would be dropped off in a corner of the forest with her pick of weapon and a clear goal. Her siblings would also be strewn about, the three of them forming a perfect triangle with trees and moss between them. Their father would have released some kind of beast beforehand, given them some (and sometimes none) instruction as to what to do and simply left them to fight it out as he waited for one of them to return with the spoils of a fight. Training was competition, after all. Any breeder of racing dogs will tell you that the best way to get the fastest hound is to pit them against each other.

And so the three of them would stalk the woods. Inna, Vissa, Daiyu. One goal in mind. Daiyu didn’t tend to win, but she tended to fight hardest. She tended to be most obviously stubborn in her refusal to lose and thus, the worst loser of all. As she glared at the man across from her flipping her off so silently, she thought of Vissarion. Quiet, obedient Vissarion, who always knew what to do to get her to snap so she’d throw the competition.

Vissa would tell her it was stupid to go after a Garkain by herself, too. He was a coward, though. She didn’t want to think of them, not of the way she’d clawed at her sister’s braid to get a head start on her, not of the bloodshed of childhood. Feral children shooting like arrows through the forest to deliver their father proof of their victory in the shape of a tail, a head, a claw.

But it was hard to suppress instincts. There was a Garkain in the trees above them and Daiyu wanted to be the one to kill it. She didn’t know who this stranger was, whether he was aware of the danger (and thus someone to beat) or if he wasn’t (and thus someone to protect), but either option wasn’t great. She wanted to get the Garkain’s ugly head and exchange it for her rent of the week. She also wanted it to not smell as bad.

She stared at her unwanted companion and pulled a face at him before flipping him off too. She tried very hard to refocus after that, positioning her rifle now that it was loaded and squinting through her scope. That really was an ugly creature. She exhaled, her breath a white cloud and aimed at its stupid, rancid head. Not caring about whatever the other was doing, she readied her gun and took her shot.

The bullet whizzed at the vampire – if you could call it that – and took off part of its head. But not the full head. Not enough of the head. Fuck. Vissa laughed in her head. Daiyu rushed to reload her rifle, but the Garkain was doing what it did best: it dropped to the forest ground.

—

The stranger returned his gesture in kind, and Emilio might have been amused if he weren’t so irritated. It was bad enough that it was cold. It was bad enough that he was out here in the woods with a garkain to take care of. It was bad enough that everything in his life was the way it was now, that the world kept continuing to pile on more and more shit with such little time for recovery, but now he had to deal with this, too? With some stranger in the woods who was going to get herself killed with a gun and a stubborn tilt of her head? (He thought of Rosa, who’d been just as stubborn. He tried to think of anything else.)

Then, she was pointing her gun and, before he could protest, pulling the trigger. “You fucking idiot,” he cursed, shooting forward as the garkain dropped. He grabbed a vial of holy water from his pocket, uncapping it and splashing it over the creature as he maneuvered past it, all the while holding his breath. Sliding into place beside the woman, he tried to shoo her towards the trail. “Get the hell out of here,” he said lowly. “You don’t want to —”

The stench got closer. Emilio felt it just as much as he smelled it, ducking down and yanking the woman with him, rolling underneath a swooping hand as the garkain made a grab for him. His hand went back into his pocket, returning with a cross this time. He held it out towards the beast, driving it back.

He knew that, with the combination of the holy water and the cross, there was no way the woman wouldn’t recognize him as a slayer if she knew what slayers were. There was a time when he might have been more nervous about that, a time where he may have let the paranoia eat away at him. But he’d been in town a while now, and plenty of people knew what he was. It hadn’t caused a whole lot of problems for him yet. Besides… he had much bigger things to worry about at the moment.

“Go,” he demanded. “Before you get someone killed.”

—

She’d had success before with wooden bullets, for the record. Daiyu was usually a good shot, even if she preferred to get up close and personal with her targets as well. But one she got agitated, once she started feeling that competitive drive her aim went off. Inna had used that against her aplenty, pulling at the wires in her frazzled mind and making her too frustrated to aim properly. She’d fire too early, and all hell would break loose.

The other person had some kind of liquid on him that he splashed onto the creature – holy water, she figured a moment later – and Daiyu slung her gun under her arm, reaching for a different weapon. She wasn’t as familiar with stakes (hence her approach with the rifle) but she made do. Daiyu always made do. She wasn’t going to let this stranger take her prize from her. She wanted to order Chinese tonight. “I’m not going fucking anywhere, that’s my kill, I was here first.”

Bristling angrily as she was yanked down, exclaiming an, “Don’t touch me!” at the fellow hunter as if he hadn’t just saved her from being smacked against a tree. Yelling had meant she’d been forced to inhale a large gulp of air and the stench made her choke. Gagging, she got to her full height and rushed back a few paces, before aiming up her gun again. “Get out of the way.”

The Garkain was moving, its stench wafting around it with every inch moved, seemingly getting ready to fly again. Daiyu continued to step back while getting the creature in her line of sight, releasing a bullet into one of its arms before it could take to the skies.

—

“Seriously? You want to turn this into a pissing contest?” Emilio let out a long string of Spanish curses, frustration clear in every word. She was going to get both of them killed. Didn’t she understand that? And then the damn vampire would be loose, would go to town, would hurt people. Anxiety thrummed in Emilio’s chest, paranoia weaving its way through each beat like fingers intertwining. “This is what I do. Go find something else to kill yourself with.”

She was definitely a hunter. He could see it now, in the familiar way she carried herself. Not a slayer, he thought; a slayer would be more likely to have a crossbow than a gun. He didn’t have time to puzzle out whether she was a ranger or a warden; the garkain was already making its way back, already sending that overpowering stench back to them.

He had half a mind to let her get herself killed. To step back, to let her ‘deal with it herself’ until the stench knocked her on her ass or the garkain landed a lucky shot. It only took one wrong move, with things like this. With her out of the way, he’d be able to take it out much faster. But, in spite of everything, he didn’t want to watch another hunter die. He couldn’t stomach the thought of that any more than he could stomach the smell of the garkain.

“Shooting it in the arm isn’t going to do anything,” he commented. “We need to set it on fire. Or stake it, or take off its head. We can steer it with the holy water and the cross, but unless you line your shot up perfect, it’s not going to do shit.” And it would be hard to line a shot up with the beast moving like this. Another reason why Emilio didn’t care for guns — accuracy was so much more difficult to ensure.

—

“It’s my kill,” she bit back. This wasn’t a pissing contest. To compare something like this to a pissing contest was stupid — it wasn’t about ego, it was about Daiyu wanting to get her hands on the creature once it was dead, taking a bit of proof that she’d undone its life and collecting her money. She didn’t do pissing contests any more. “Screw you, this is what I do, too. What are you, the monopoly-man of hunting vampires now? Who even are —”

She gagged. Maybe she shouldn’t be talking so much, as it meant she had to breathe more. Daiyu bristled angrily, eyes trying to trail the garkain. This other hunter was all words, no action (something she’d been accused of being before) and she had little patience for it. She was going to be the one to land that final blow.

“It’s doing more than whatever you’re doing, it’s at least fucking with its ability to fly,” she retorted. “What’re you gonna do, light the tree on fire? The wood’s wet, smart ass.” The garkain was clambering onto a branch and she made careful work of continuing to move, getting away from where it was attempting to aim its stinking body. What a horrible creature that was. It more than deserved to die. “Also, like, bad for the environment.”

Now she was yapping too, “I’ve got wooden bullets. And an axe. I’ll get it down. And then chop off its head. And for the record, if you hadn’t interrupted me I’d have shot it right in the heart, so.” Daiyu aimed her rifle up, checked if she and the other hunter were not in the vampires area of impact and shot up at the tree, reloading quickly to loosen another shot. She was riling it up to get it to get down. He had a point: they needed to steer it. But she didn’t have holy water or a cross, so this had to do.

—

“Fucking kill it, then.” The frustration was threatening to bubble over now, anger burning in his chest, in his gut. He’d always had a short temper; he knew that. His mother had weaponized the rage he wore like a second skin, often told him it was the only thing about him that had any hope of being made useful. It didn’t feel very useful now. There was no place for it here, no room. But he didn’t know how to get rid of it, didn’t know how to make it go away.

She was clearly struggling with the stench; Emilio, for his part, had fought enough garkain to know how to school his breathing, even if the smell was still overwhelming. They were annoying to fight; always a goddamn headache, even without another hunter getting in his way. He didn’t have the patience for this. These days, he didn’t have the patience for much of anything.

“You keep it from flying, smart ass,” he replied, mimicking her tone. “Holy water slows it down. Maybe you would know this if you were better for listening.” His frustration was bleeding through now, rearing its head in a way that made English harder to grasp at. This, of course, only served to frustrate him further.

Wooden bullets. What a stupid idea. Emilio had known a few slayers who’d tried similar methods, and it never worked quite right. Wood was lighter than metal. When fired from a gun, it moved more slowly. To do any real damage when firing a wooden bullet, you had to be close, especially with a target as tough as the garkain. There was a reason why most slayers defaulted to crossbows when they wanted a ranged weapon.

Shrugging, Emilio took a few steps away from her, leaning against a nearby tree. “Okay. Go ahead, then. I’ll wait here. Let me know when you’re done being killed.”

—

It was like Vissarion was in the woods with her, with his ten inches on her and his mind so much sharper. Glowering and chastising and knowing it all so much better. Daiyu didn’t want her mind to travel there, to the sibling she barely ever saw these days, to the fights and fury. He’d do the same thing, if he were here, watch her fumble and flail and laugh, only to end the vampire’s life in one blow and take the victory home.

As the other leaned back, so casual and smug, she wanted to forget all about the vampire and sock him in the jaw. He was the easier target and all in all, pissing her off more than the stupid vampire in the tree. Besides, if she’d be able to shut him up, she might actually be able to focus and get her garkain killed.

“Shut up,” she snapped. “All this would’ve been fine if you hadn’t shown up to be a fucking nuisance, you know?” Daiyu watched the garkain get ready to drop and tried to focus on her breathing, but her cheeks were burning with anger. “You’re just gonna stand there, then? Like a pussy?” She was getting what she wanted – for him to leave the kill to her – and yet she was angry with his decision. She didn’t want this stranger who seemed to know that much better to judge her.

As she was considering her options the garkain dropped down, right between the presumed slayer and herself. There were rips in its wings, but they weren’t torn enough to make enough of a difference, she noted as she started holding her breath. Daiyu loosened one more shot at the thing, aimed at the head and taking off a bit of its head (not caring much if the bullet whizzed past the other hunter in the process) and swung her rifle back to get her axe. She needed that holy water. She felt her eyes burn with the stench as she angled the axe backwards as her lungs begged for oxygen. She was quick – this, at least, she’d always had going for her: her speed – as she swung the axe down into the neck, but it wasn’t enough to cut through all the thick muscles. On the release of pulling the axe out, she ex- and inhaled, stumbling back as the vampire – bleeding, but alive – turned to her as she gagged once more.

—

In the Cortez family, hunting had always been a serious thing. Even before Victor’s death, Elena made sure that Emilio and his siblings understood the weight of it. There was no cutting up, no conversation. Most hunts had been expected to proceed in absolute silence. He remembered being eight and receiving harsh punishment for making too many sounds during a hunt, remembered his mother forcing his mouth closed for hours with the clock starting over each time he opened it.

This hunter, he thought, would have been bad at these exercises, but Emilio himself wasn’t much good at them anymore, either. He was much more prone to speaking on hunts now, to filling the silences with his dry humor or demanding answers or retribution from the undead he killed.

“You wanted me to stand here,” he replied, shrugging a shoulder. “I am giving you what you want. Why? Do you want help now?” The insult didn’t bother him as much as it might have years ago. Emilio had been called much worse than a pussy, and the fact that he knew he was irritating this stranger provided him with enough of a ‘win’ that he didn’t mind being insulted. He liked getting under people’s skin, after all. And he was pretty good at it.

He took a step back as the garkain dropped down, and it took every ounce of willpower he had in him not to jump into action instinctively. He wanted to fight, wanted to end this thing right away, but… he wanted to be petty just a little more. He watched the other hunter attempt to fend off the vampire with her ax, watched her gag on the stench of it. “Looking good,” he called out as the beast lunged at her again. He flashed her a thumbs up, nodding his head. “Doing great.”

—

Her sister had wielded silence as a weapon against their father. She’d never given him an inch, had given him the stoic silence befit of a ranger and a Volkov. She’d kept every word, every thought to herself, behind those unexpressive eyes. Her brother had spoken, of course, but only often in yes-ands, in words meant to please their father. His words had been clever daggers when wielded against her. And Daiyu? She made noise. She has always made noise, except when alone. She’d filled every room she entered with noise, because what else was there to do?

Later she’d blame it on the other’s presence, that this all went amiss. Because when she hunted by herself, it always went perfectly fine. She always yielded the results she needed — ending with a corpse or incapacitated animal, even if she got scratched and bleeding in the process. But now he was there. A slayer, someone probably objectively better at her than this. And he was watching. Like her brother, like her father.

She roared with rage as she swung down the axe again, not giving the other any quips in reply. As long as she kept making noise. As long as this ended with the horrid creature dead and the money hers. As long as she could be good at this one thing she was supposed to be good at.

The garkain was too fast, ducked out of the way and lunged at Daiyu, who tossed herself to the side, letting go off her axe in the process so she wouldn’t somehow hurt herself. The smell was on her now, eyes no longer just watering but fluttering. Garkains could render people unconscious, she remembered. She reached for her knife but it was too late — the vampire was on her, jaws widening, paws on either side of her head, a claw sunk in one of her shoulders. It was furious, just like her, and she roared right back at it, pulling up her legs to try and kick at a creature two feet taller than her.

—

In situations like this one, Emilio often found himself thinking of what his siblings would do. He thought of Victor, who was kind in his memory even if he wasn’t sure he had been in life. It had been so long since his oldest brother’s demise that it was hard to remember who he had been when he wasn’t a ghost, hard to remember the tangible version of him. Twelve year old boys idolized their big brothers, and the dead were morphed into something perfect in the minds of the living as a method of coping. So Victor, in his mind, was kind. The Victor that existed only to Emilio was gentle, was good. This Victor loved him; he didn’t know if the real one had.

He wondered what Victor — either the real one or the one invented by grief — would say to this hunter. Would he offer words of encouragement that were genuine instead of sarcastic? Would he toss her a blade, give her another chance to do what she so clearly wanted to do and win the fight on her own? Would he hold the creature down, risk life and limb to save her pride?

It was easier to know what Edgar or Rosa would have done. Their deaths were more recent, and he’d known them better in their lives. Rosa would have never let things get this far at all. She would have killed the garkain the moment she came across it, other hunter be damned. She would have turned it to dust and made a cruel remark to the woman with the gun, would have twisted the proverbial knife while twirling the physical one. Rosa had no room for weakness. It was why she’d always tried so hard to make Emilio strong. You can’t belong in this family if you’re soft, Milio, she told him once. He liked to think she’d said it out of love. He liked to think a lot of things.

Edgar, for his part, would have walked away. He would have left the woman to her fight, would have come back later to take care of the garkain while her corpse cooled on the ground. If someone didn’t want to be saved, Edgar wouldn’t bother saving them. He’d told Emilio as much once, flat and uncaring, and Emilio had felt a strange stone in the pit of his stomach that he pretended meant he agreed.

But Emilio wasn’t kind like the ghost of Victor. He didn’t have Rosa’s unwillingness to entertain, or Edgar’s ability to walk away from a fight. He watched the woman struggle until she was on the ground, and then he held his breath and stepped forward. He plunged his stake into the garkain’s back until it pierced the still heart in its chest, he let it crumble around her. Maybe he should have let her do it, the way Victor’s ghost would have done. Maybe he should have done it sooner, like Rosa, or later, like Edgar. But he wasn’t any of them. That had always been the root of the problem.

“You’re welcome,” he said flatly. “Anything broken?”

—

When she was sixteen, Daiyu nearly died. In Volkov tradition, Alexei’s three children had been pitted against each other one full moon. Dropped in a forest some hundred miles away from their usual woods, they were to finish off as many wolves as possible. Not together, of course — that was never the task, to work as a team, that was reserved for hunting camp. At the end of the day, Alexei wanted his children to be self-sufficient. To be able to fight their way tooth and nail out of any situation alone. To go for glory, at any cost.

Inna, clever Inna, she’d prepared herself better than her siblings. She was set to win, having used her people skills (that both Vissarion and Daiyu lacked) to get insider information on these woods and knew where they converged. Riling her little sister up was easy, as was leading her first towards the nest of the feral wolves. Draw them out with a bit of violent bait, and then take the kill — that was the plan. And Daiyu did as her sister orchestrated, moving in guns blazing, expecting to exit covered in blood but with the victory hers. Instead, she was outnumbered. Instead, her sister waited in the wings and watched Daiyu scream and bleed as she shot stray bullets. Inna’s finger on the trigger of her crossbow but never pushing it, making eye contact with her younger sister as she waited for her chance. It was Vissa’s voice cracking through the air that had snapped Inna out of it, that had pushed her into action — and in the end, the werewolves died as they were supposed and Daiyu was dragged out, carried home folded over her brothers shoulder.

She was lucky she hadn’t gotten bit, her father had told her after she’d waken up. She was lucky her brother had half a sense. She should have known better than to take all those wolves on by herself, should have thought a little longer and harder. Inna never apologized, even if something in her gaze seemed regretful. Daiyu didn’t learn her lesson: she just learned that she hated needing help.

So when her strange competitor came to her rescue and made the garkain turn into dust – its claw disappearing from her shoulder and in stead filling the orifice with whatever was left of it – Daiyu glowered. She scrambled back, pushed herself to her feet and glowered some more, letting her gaze fall from the slayer to the coating of dust on the forest floor.

“No.” Nothing was broken. Her shoulder hurt like a son of a bitch, would have to be cleaned and wrapped up but it would be fine, just another scar in the mix. Her body a map of mistakes. Inna didn’t have that many scars. Daiyu called it proof of her cowardice, but they both knew that wasn’t true. She pushed a hand against her shoulder, adding some pressure before moving for her axe. “I’ll tell ‘em it was you.” That was what this was about. Wasn’t it? It was for her, and she’d never really been one to put herself in another’s shoes. “Bounty’s yours. Congratu-fucking-lations.” A beat. She glowered even more. “Thanks.”

—

She reminded him a little of Rosa, he thought. That harsh determination, that fire in her eyes. But… Rosa had never been reckless like this. Rosa had always been smart, knew when to admit that she needed an extra set of hands and when to push someone else down to help herself to her feet. After Victor’s death, Rosa had taken her responsibility as the eldest Cortez sibling seriously, had learned from their brother’s mistake enough to put herself ahead. In the ranger’s shoes, Rosa would have never let herself get knocked to the ground, would have danced just out of reach or pushed the beast to attack Emilio instead of her.

No. No, the more he thought about it, she wasn’t like Rosa at all. Or Edgar, who would have killed the garkain instead of arguing with Emilio about it, or Victor who might have offered a kind word. No, if this ranger was like any of the Cortez siblings, it was Emilio, with his hot head and his stubborn anger. Emilio, with his beating heart. Was it better to be like him if he was the only one who’d survived? Or was there more honor in dying when you were supposed to?

He eyed her as she stood, pushing thoughts of his siblings and their ghosts from his mind as he gave her a quick once-over because if it were him, he’d have said he was fine even with every bone in his body shattered and she had the same anger burning in her eyes that he felt in his own chest, so they probably had a little more in common than either of them would care to admit. But he couldn’t see anything outwardly wrong beyond the wound in her shoulder, and he figured she could take care of that herself.

He was about to turn to leave when she spoke again. Turning back to her, Emilio furrowed his brow, tilting his head to the side slightly. “What bounty?”

—

The camaraderie between hunters had always been something Daiyu struggled with. Though she longed for connection, she somehow always seemed to crash and burn on her way to it. Besides, there was so often something in other hunters she disliked and simply had to spit on. The worst thing a hunter could be, though, was better than her. To beat her at the game she was trying to win herself. To put her in her place.

She disliked the slayer because she disliked herself, which was how it always went. She saw something in a potential ally or friend that she despised within her and so she fought against any potential relationship. Daiyu felt anger rise in her at her failure and with the other still there she aimed it all at him, even if only mentally, getting ready to stomp off into a different direction and curse the slayer until she’d used any and all expletives she knew. She knew quite a lot, so it’d at least keep her busy for a while.

Her hand continued to press into her shoulder, eyes narrowed at the back of the stranger until he turned around. She amped up her glower. “The bounty. For the garkain. I figure that’s why you were on my ass about this stupid thing and couldn’t just let me have it?” It had always been hard for Daiyu to think like another might. Her mind was so contradictory and full that there was little room for such understanding. “Go get it. I’ll even fucking vouch for you, if you want. Congrats. You got your buck.”

—

He used to be better at this. Getting along with other hunters used to be so much easier than getting along with anyone who wasn’t a hunter, as evidenced by the way he’d so quickly built up a relationship with Juliana or his dynamic with Rhett. But something had shifted somewhere along the line. Maybe it had happened in Mexico, when Lucio’s betrayal killed everyone he’d ever loved in one fell swoop. Or maybe it came later, when he started befriending bugbears and vampires and viewing anyone who might hurt them as a threat. His mother would be ashamed of him now, he knew. In the woods, fighting with another hunter while preparing to go home to someone who’d spent most of their life being the target of hunters even if they weren’t anymore. She’d hate him for it.

But she’d hate him for a lot of things, wouldn’t she? She’d died hating him already. He couldn’t lament on the fact that she’d be ashamed of him now without acknowledging the way she already had been. Emilio had been a disappointment even when he’d been trying to do everything right. There was no changing that. So the familiar anger burning in his chest was a nice change, a cheerful reprieve. He’d rather be angry at a stranger for being difficult than admit how angry he was at a ghost he didn’t know how to hate.

“I don’t give a shit about any bounty,” he spat out, the word feeling distasteful on his tongue. Emilio had never much cared for the practice of being paid to hunt. That, at least, was something his entire family had managed to agree upon. “I was on your ass because you were going to get yourself killed. If you want the bounty, you take it. I’m not going to claim it.” He turned away again, walking back in the direction he’d come. “Next time you want to take out something undead, call me. I’ll bring fucking popcorn.”

—

What did it say about her, that she was so angry at the person who’d saved her life? Maybe just that she liked to rage against anything and everything, that there an oppositional force within her that could not be tamed. Maybe it meant that her father’s lessons had still, somehow, hit home. That Daiyu agreed with him, that to rely on others was weakness, that one was strongest alone. Or maybe it said something worse, something she didn’t quite want to face, something about how much she valued her life, at the end of the day. She never spent much time assessing the source of her anger — she just let it burn and dealt with the aftermath and let that be that.

The aftermath would come in the silence of the woods when the slayer and her had separated ways, but now was still the time for the burning. Her knuckles burned white as she clenched the axe, her eyes were angry slits and her shoulder pulsating angrily with pain. Every wave of ache a reminder of her failure, of the fact that she would have been fine if this slayer hadn’t showed up. (Or, perhaps, she would have been dead.)

And the fact that he hadn’t been after the bounty made her all the more enraged. Why was she always so blind, so shortsighted? Why did she assume all people opponents? Daiyu huffed. “I’m not gonna claim shit,” she said, because she was still a prideful being. She glared at the dust that had been the garkain. She opened her mouth that she’d taken on bigger and worse creatures than this, but her heart was beating in her shoulder. “You know what? I think I won’t!” She started stalking off in a different direction. “See you never!” And though she knew this was a small town, she said it with full conviction.

#bountyhaunter #daiyu: unfriendly competition #wickedswriting

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g0dspeeed · 1 year

Text

What's A Christmas?

One Turian's curiosity leads the Normandy crew to discuss a very odd topic: Christmas

"What's a Christmas?"

His words in all their cool simplicity still stalled her sip of black tea, the heat of her drink warming her parted lips as Commander Shepard awaited further clarification for such an unexpected question.

When their eyes met and none was given, she ventured on.

"What are you asking?" she returned, a slight smile teasing her mouth at the way the curious Turian's mandibles twitched.

"You heard me, Shepard," quipped Garrus. "But go on, take joy in my ignorance in whatever human social cue, custom, or household appliance I fail to know about."

Her mug was set gently on the table between them. She leaned forward.

"Wouldn't be the first time I had to teach you something human," replied the Commander, her voice low and laced with something akin to mischief.

Despite his seasoned confidence, Garrus felt that familiar anxiety creep up his neck. That voice of hers, how it dipped and paired with those deep eyes. So far since their unexpected conversation in the battery, when Shepard talked like that it meant something nice, something alluring or dare he suggest sexy.

Her lingering smirk only solidified his guess.

Yeah, I'll go with flirty, he thought, a new smugness replacing his uncertainty.

"I might be due for another lesson," he chanced.

Just as Shepard leaned closer the sound of heavy footfalls made their approach towards the mess hall.

"Just the expert I was looking for," greeted Shepard, the ease in her voice playing off of Zaeed's suspicious scowl as he emerged from the main hall.

A scoff was the sole verbal response as the mercenary remained on target, focus zeroed in on one of the kitchen cabinets. He did stall his rummaging enough to glance between the pair at the table, a pod of what looked like coffee grounds in hand.

Shepard knew that it was the closest to acknowledgment she would get from the man without his morning coffee.

"Zaeed, what do you know about Christmas?" continued the Commander.

A chuckle.

Garrus withheld a sigh.

"Ah, Christmas. Haven't had one in decades," breathed Zaeed.

His thick arms crossed over his chest, a pose that Garrus knew well.

"One what?" asked Garrus.

"Christmas."

"What is it?"

A cocked hip.

"What you mean?" replied Zaeed with a frown. "Can't tell me that after all these years you birds haven't heard of Christmas?"

"I suppose between teaching humans proper space travel regulations and stabilizing relations following an all out war we never found the time."

Both humans rolled their eyes in unison.

Point one for Garrus.

"Well, Zaeed?"

Garrus's eyes narrowed at the limp shrug offered by the older man.

"Seems the Turian doesn't care to know, Shepard, with all that extra dedication to other important galactic matters. Why should I waste my breath-"

"Fine, I don't need to know," dismissed Garrus as he sat back in his seat. "I just heard Jacob talk about it being 'Christmas time' on Earth the other day-"

"Are you all discussing Christmas?"

Her filtered voice carried from the hallway, the three so engrossed in their discussion that they failed to register the hiss of the elevator doors as Tali made her way towards the mess hall.

Though the glow of her omnitool reflected off her helmet, Garrus could still make out his teammate's bright eyes, an air of curiosity always alit in her gaze.

"Tali," welcomed Shepard warmly as the quarian sat at their table. "You know about Christmas?"

"No, but I want to," replied Tali shyly. "Jacob sounded so nostalgic when he talked about it with Joker the other day. I wanted to know more, but it felt, um, intrusive."

"Don't bother, Tali. I've asked twice and no one's told me anything."

A soft laugh.

"That might be because it's you, Garrus."

"Thanks, Tali."

"No problem-"

"Aye," interrupted Zaeed. "You lot want to know about Christmas or not-"

"Depends," groaned Garrus. "Are you going to actually provide an explanation? One without war stories or tales of survival against a hundred or so enemies?"

Shepard couldn't help but smile at the way Zaeed took his sweet time in loading the coffee machine with his pod and configuring the settings to his liking. The direct eye contact with Garrus as he did so was enough to almost make her laugh.

"It's a holiday," the mercenary finally answered. "Happens once an Earth year."

"I see," murmured Tali. "But we could already determine that much."

"I didn't," grumbled Garrus.

"Then don't bother asking," added the mercenary.

"Come on, Zaeed-"

"Shepard, I don't think these aliens give a damn-"

"Give a damn about what?" called a harsh voice accompanied by the sound of more stomping feet.

Garrus laid his head down on the table as Jack emerged from the back hall with a dirty plate and furrowed brow.

"Now I'll never know," groaned the turian.

"Know what?" she questioned, Jack's confused expression not quite matching her tone. "What's his problem?"

"Christmas," supplied Tali.

"He hates Christmas?"

"What? No, he-"

"He hates being jerked around-"

"Pft, join the club," Jack said as she tossed her dirty plate in the washer.

At the way Garrus snapped his head to glare at the young biotic Shepard felt the need to step in.

"Jack," she said calmly. "Zaeed was explaining Christmas to Garrus and Tali after they heard Jacob talk about it. Any thoughts?"

A shrug.

Garrus wanted to scream.

"Never celebrated it with, you know, being a lab rat in a fucked up scientific project and all."

"Ah."

"Celebrated what?"

"Christmas!"

The way that Tali, Garrus, and Jack shouted their answer to Jacob and Samara as they entered the space sizzled with a new tension in the air.

Jacob lifted his hands in defense.

"Whoa, why are we talking about Christmas this early in the morning?" he asked.

"Because you talked about Christmas," accused Zaeed after a sip of coffee.

"Yeah, it's almost Christmas on Earth-"

"I think a better question," began Tali, sounding nearly as exasperated as Garrus, "Would be what happens on Christmas? What are humans celebrating?"

"Oh, well, that depends."

This time, Tali sighed.

"I mean," continued Jacob. "Some people associate Christmas to a religious practice while others don't."

"Which religion?"

All were startled at the sudden sound of Thane's voice, though the drell arguably had the softest tone among them. He stood leaning near the far back wall, arms crossed and dark eyes fixed on Jacob.

Jacob's jaw set when he met Thane's patient stare, a change that stirred some agitation in Shepard's gut. Thankfully, Jacob pressed on.

"A religion called Christianity. It's um, pretty old."

"Interesting."

"Christianity?" echoed Tali. "The one with the Jesus?"

Zaeed choked on his coffee.

With a wave of the hand, Jack groaned, "Ugh, let's not get into that."

"Religious origins aside," continued Samara, her soothing voice welcomed by the more restless members of the conversation. "I am curious about cultural practices surrounding this holiday. Jacob, you appeared quite at peace when you mentioned it to Joker the other day. Please go on."

From where Shepard sat she could see how Jacob's cheeks reddened.

"Oh, um," he stuttered before coughing. "I know humans in colonies will gather together on Christmas Day and give each other gifts. Depends on what part of Earth people come from though. Not all humans celebrate it-"

"Why gifts?" chirped Tali.

"To foster relationship," answered Shepard plainly.

"Same reason anyone gives a gift," added Zaeed.

"I see."

"I know my family talked about special gift giving," continued Shepard. "Called it a White Elephant."

"An elephant?" repeated Garrus. "What's that?"

"Oh, it's just an animal-"

"Why is it white?"

"Are they all white?"

"Do you bring one-"

"Shit, it's just a name!" cried Jack. "Just means you give gifts blind, like for anyone in the group. Sometimes wierd gifts, too, if you want to fuck with someone. Used to do something like that in the cult I was in-"

"Did one myself with the Blue Suns," sighed Zaeed. "But we only exchanged rifle mods and credits."

"Okay, so gift giving. Got it," mused Garrus. "What else is there?"

"A long time ago people on Earth would decorate a tree in their homes with lights and ornaments. Called it a Christmas tree."

The quiet in the air was thick as all processed this new information to themselves, the only humored members being the humans.

"Like, a real plant?" asked Tali slowly.

"For some," chimed in new voice.

Miranda stood near Thane, her eyes studying the room in constant analysis. Her lips were pursed.

"Shepard," stated Miranda, "When you have a moment, the Illusive Man-"

"Shepard!"

Following the loud, bellowing voice that interrupted Miranda was a young krogan whose angry eyes and brash entrance into the mess hall made Shepard stand to her feet immediately. Miranda nearly ran into Thane as she avoided being shoved by Grunt.

"Tell your Salarian doctor to stay away or I’ll tear him apart!"

A groan. Shepard looked to the ceiling.

"EDI, inform Mordin that I want him in the mess hall. Now."

"Mordin is entering the elevator."

"Thanks, EDI."

Simply having Shepard listen appeared to ease Grunt enough to look about the room.

"What is happening here?" he grit out.

"A little lesson in cultural understanding," mused Shepard. "You were saying Miranda?"

"The Illusive Man is expecting your call-"

"Not about that, cheerleader," snarked Jack. "Or is it that hard to quit being Cerberus's lap dog for one moment of your pathetic life-"

"Jack-"

"The Christmas tree," interjected Jacob, much to Shepard's relief, "Can be real or fake. Or they used to be. Climate change over the decades leads most people to go for the fake option. Or no tree."

"Ah yes," added a familiar, clinical voice. "Earth's own deforestation efforts led to environmental degradation. Not surprising given early Earth values in the 21st century. Reflective of shared galactic issues regarding planetary care from it's population. Shepard, you needed me?"

Mordin stood straight and seemed aloof of the menacing glares Grunt was sending him from Shepard’s side.

Behind them Zaeed began making a pot of coffee, batting away Jack’s hand as she tried to take over the machine. Garrus settled in for a show.

"Mordin," began Shepard. "We've been over this. Leave Grunt alone unless Grunt requires emergency medical care-"

“Of course!” exclaimed the Salarian, offense flooding his expression. “Great clinicians respect patient autonomy and boundaries!”

“You tried to stick a needle in me!” roared Grunt with an accusing finger jabbed towards Mordin.

“Yes, I did. After you stated that you were concerned over recent physiological changes possibly related to developmental stages in krogan and consented to further testing.”

“I did not consent to a needle!”

“Yes, you did. I requested a blood sample-”

“It seems,” interrupted the Commander, a hand cutting in the space between the angry krogan and confused salarian. “That there was miscommunication about what sort of tests were going to be administered and how. Mordin, you now know that needles are not an option. Grunt, you now know that calmly requesting clarification is within your right. Got it?”

“Agreed,” stated Mordin, completely unfazed by the conflict altogether as he surveyed the full mess hall. “Surprised to see the subject of environmental decay amongst crew.”

“We were talking about Christmas, a human holiday that apparently involves gifts, sometimes a Jesus, and decorating trees,” informed Thane.

Shepard smiled at how he and Miranda gradually drew closer into the room. Miranda surprised Shepard the most by crossing the space and silently requesting Zaeed provide her a mug of coffee. Zaeed obliged without issue. Thane took a seat closest to the door.

“Christmas,” sniffed Mordin. “A pleasant holiday. At least when recalled by humans. Source of nostalgia. Comforted human patients on Omega around specific times of the year. Provided distraction and grounding for trauma.”

“You know about Christmas?” blurted Garrus, his wide blue eyes earning a small laugh from Tali.

“Mm, know? No. Know very little. Just what patients shared at Omega clinic. Did not see relevance to patient care in pursuing more information.”

“So that’s it? Just a holiday where humans exchange gifts?” asked Grunt.

“Is it that disappointing?” Shepard replied.

“Where’s the honor?”

“I suppose in giving a good gift?” ventured Tali.

Grunt shook his large head and huffed.

“Too soft. Too simple. There’s no honor where it isn’t earned through battle and blood.”

“There could be blood.”

All turned to look at Zaeed, but he said nothing more as he poured himself another cup of coffee.

“Wait, are we going to have a Christmas?”

Tali’s voice was so hopeful that Shepard couldn’t decline right away.

“I mean,” began Jacob.

When all turned to stare, his mouth shut.

“I’m down."

Shepard blinked at how Joker’s voice joined from overhead. How long had he been listening?

"I don't see this as relevant to the mission," stated Miranda.

Frankly, Shepard didn't either. Not entirely anyway. They were due to try the Omega-4 Relay soon, now that all the crew were assembled. She felt confident about their chances. Well, as confident for success that one can feel for a suicide mission.

Surveying the mess hall, Shepard had second thoughts. The discussion had paused, yet no one had left. Garrus and Tali had their eyes glued on Zaeed as the man talked about Christmas sweaters, traditions, and songs, snapping at anyone and everyone who tried to butt in.

"Why a mistletoe-"

"It's tied to some old story."

"Okay, but why does it matter if people kiss underneath it-"

"You want a lesson or not?"

The others had huddled to either attend to Zaeed or mutter amongst themselves, sharing about their own customs and holidays that shared similarities with Christmas, a conversation that no one could have anticipated, especially centuries ago when space flight for humans centered on Mars alone.

A sigh, heavy and resigned.

"Joker," prompted the Commander.

"Mam?"

"Plot a course for the Citadel. We need to make a supply run and to have-"

A chanced glance at Tali was all it took.

"-and to have a Christmas party."

"Sweet!" chirped Joker. "Aye aye, Commander!"

The room filled with noise. A lot of excitement and loads of uncertainty.

"Everyone. Listen up," called Shepard. "Shore leave will be 48 hours. Do what you want with that time. You are not obligated to participate in the party, but if you do let me know."

The Cerberus officer stepped forward first, a cross expression lining her features.

"I still don't see the benefit, Commander."

"We were due for a supply run anyway, Miranda, as well as shore leave. If it helps, think of it as one last morale booster before the mission-"

"Commander-"

"Shit!" cried Shepard as Kasumi emerged at her side, the shimmer of her cloaking revealing a coy smile. Miranda lifted a hand to shield her eyes, her lips moving for a silent curse of her own.

"If you'd like assistance in planning," said Kasumi. "I'm at your service."

"Thanks," muttered Shepard. "Um, I'm not really sure how to plan this thing. Recruit any help you see fit."

"I'll recruit Legion," she replied cheekily, already flitting off in the direction of the elevator.

Shaking her head, Shepard stalked off to get her conversation with the Illusive Man over with. The morning had been bizarre enough she doubted anything else he could say would throw her off anymore than the last forty minutes had.

In the hall just outside of the elevator stood her latest member of the crew, Legion. She was about to greet her Geth teammate when he approached her first, lamped head tilted to the side as if in thought.

"Legion."

"Shepard-Commander, we have an inquiry."

"Did Kasumi talk to you?" asked Shepard.

"Yes, but her request for help with planning a Christmas party leads us to more unanswered questions."

The Commander frowned.

"Shepard-Commander, who is Santa Claus?"

🎁🎁🎁

Had this in the chamber for a year.

Merry Christmas, fandom!

#mass effect 2 #me2 #mass effect garrus #mass effect #garrus vakarian #Christmas on the Normandy #tali'zorah #thane krios #mass effect legendary edition

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his-name-is-stewart · 8 months

Text

6 | Familiar Stranger

Ghoul had not felt so… so vulnerable in such a long time. No. No, he hadn’t felt so vulnerable ever. He’d been scared before- many, many times. But he had never experienced a feeling of terror so complete and all-encompassing; like his psyche had been ripped from his brain and laid before him, the shadows in his mind surrounding him, suffocating him, and all he could do was curl up and close his eyes but even that couldn’t save him-

He set down the cup of coffee before his shaking hands had the chance to spill it over the diner table in front of him.

“Fuck…”

To be honest, he wasn’t really certain how, exactly, he’d gotten himself to the diner in the first place. It didn’t matter.

Hours later, and he still couldn’t breathe. The effects of the chemical had worn off enough for him to see - kind of - but his mind was still ricocheting in and out of a state of nightmare.

He ran his fingers through his hair before resting his elbows on the table and hiding his face in his hands. As he did this, he realized with startling suddenness that he was crying. Hurriedly wiping the tears away left a smear of charcoal black makeup across his palms and he couldn’t really be bothered to worry about what the makeup remaining on his eyes looked like.

Looking down at his coffee, he realized that the tears were still falling, but decided as the third panic attack of the morning set in that it didn’t matter. How could it matter when his mind was dizzy spinning in circles around an incident that was entirely his fault, an incident that was just as stupid as he was and god wasn’t his existence just a scar upon the face of the earth of course they had been right all along oh gods they were right and he was going to die in a ditch somewhere and there would be no one to look for him and- and-

The door of the diner chimed open, somewhere in the midst of his panicked, heavy thoughts, but that was nowhere near enough to stop or even slow them.

Ghoul managed a shaky breath at some point after that, crossing his arms in front of him and putting his face down on the table. The tears hadn’t stopped and he hadn’t tried to stop them. It was like every old wound had been reopened and it stung and it burned and gods, it hurt so bad and he was so, so scared again- more scared than he’d ever felt before, but in such a familiar way. And, fuck, it hurt.

***

The twenty-four hour diner was in Central Gotham, just down the street from their apartment. It was rendered pretty out of the way by its location on Gotham’s original ground level streets, far below the skyways that most people traveled on. Combine that with the fact that it was nearly three in the morning, and it made sense that there was virtually no one there.

Apart from themself, there was one employee and a single other customer, who had his head down, ignoring the mug of coffee on the table in front of him, and presumably everything else in the diner, too.

“Seat yourself wherever you’re comfortable.” The waitress’ voice was monotone as she glanced up from her phone at the sound of the door chime.

As they glanced around the diner again, they took a bit more notice of the other customer there. With what he was wearing, he was almost certainly one of Gotham’s many eccentric criminals - although luckily, probably not a Joker. But it didn’t take them more than a few seconds to realize that he didn’t just have his head down. His body was shaking with sobs and they were pretty sure they could see some smudges of makeup on the back of his arm. They frowned, pushing down the bit of concern they were feeling. He was the kind of person that had made the shadows of Gotham so painful for them.

They elected to sit in a booth a decent distance from him but still close enough that they could keep a wary eye on him. They would have scolded themself for being rude if it wasn’t what every other person in Gotham would have done.

***

It was hard to see through the haze of panic that drifted in and out like a burning fog; it was hard to think.

Earlier, he’d tried to take a sip of his coffee, but that had ended in him choking on it. It hadn’t felt like drops of hot coffee dripping down his face. All he could think of - all he could feel was his blood streaming over his cheeks, his lips - searing pain and the inability to close his mouth. No way to stop himself from screaming.

The fact that he hadn’t been kicked out of the diner might’ve meant that he didn’t actually scream at the feeling of the coffee he’d choked up - but honestly, it was just as likely, if not more so, that the waitress just didn’t care enough to kick him out when he was the only customer there. Just another Gotham weirdo, right?

He’d probably screamed.

He glanced around in what he’d thought was a moment of clarity and realized that he was no longer alone in the diner. A short distance from him, someone sat in their own booth, watching him. They were almost trying to be subtle, but it was very apparent that the reason they kept glancing up from their food was to keep an eye on him.

They looked like…

Clearly Ghoul had been wrong about it being a moment of clarity.

The person looked up, catching him staring. He scowled, glaring at them, and their eyes widened for just a second before they looked away, wincing as if they’d been shot.

***

They didn’t have any classes together that day, but he’d slipped a note in their locker, as was their usual method of communication.

“Meet me @ our spot after school. I’ve got smth to tell you,” he’d messily scribbled onto a scrap of paper very clearly torn from his English textbook. He didn’t bother signing it.

The rest of his day was spent with his nails dug into his palms. They’d been helping him prepare to run away just as long as he’d been planning to, but his stomach was still in knots over how they’d react to the news. He’d been imagining what they’d say, the kind of expression they’d wear, but the negative outcomes tended to appear more prominently in his imagination than the positive ones.

It was fine. It was going to be fine. He should know by now that they’d have his back with whatever he chose to do- but… this was big. This was a big deal.

He tried not to appear too nervous in his remaining classes.

“Hey, you! What’s going on?” They smiled at him as he sat down next to them on the ledge.

It wasn’t really that late, but with how cloudy the Gotham sky was, it was already getting dark as the sun went down, the dark clouds stained pink and purple by the setting sun. They had a perfect view of the city’s silhouette from where they were sitting.

They’d helped him find this spot years ago, when they were still pretty young. The two of them had spent a couple late nights at their house, scouring maps of the city until they’d found the best place to hang out away from the eyes of his parents. That place happened to be the old bridge.

It had been damaged many years ago by some villain or another’s attack- they’d blown up the middle of the bridge as part of a scheme that involved trapping people within the city limits. When it came time to clean up the damage, the city council decided that the bridge was old enough to just abandon it and build a new one, so there it sat. The side nearest to the heart of the city had been demolished some time ago so new docks could be built in its place, but the remaining half was completely ignored. Power to the area was cut off, so no cameras, and outside the city limits, so no people.

He couldn’t thank them enough for giving him a place to finally let his guard down.

They raised a brow at his lack of response. “Stewart? What’s up?”

Glancing over at them, he smiled nervously. “Right- uh. Sweets, I… I’m doin’ it.”

They blinked, staring as they took a second to process. When they did speak, though, their voice was nothing short of ecstatic. “Running away?? Really??”

“Yeah!” He’d never felt as much relief as he did looking at the joy in their eyes, and now that the nerves were gone, he was finally feeling the excitement, too. “I got a contact with the Jokerz- I’m goin�� tonight to join, and I’ll have a place to stay!”

They let out a laugh, grasping his hands. “Holy shit, finally! I’m so happy for you, Stew!”

He grinned at them. “So- uh. I’m probably not gonna be able to talk to ya for a few days while I get everything sorted out, ya know?”

“I get it.” They nodded. “You have a plan though, right?”

“What? Of course I do. You wound me, sweets.” He rolled his eyes, elbowing them. “I’m gonna try to call ya. In case that doesn’t work… just keep comin’ here. Every evening, at this time, and… and I’ll do the same as soon as I can.”

They nodded again. “Will do.”

He pulled them into a hug. “Thank you. I’m sorry you’ve had to deal with-”

“Oh, shut up. You’re my friend, and I love you, and I have been more than happy to help you get out of that hellhole.” They took a deep breath, resting their head on his shoulder. “But promise me something, please?”

“Anything for you, sweets.” Stewart closed his eyes, resting his head on top of theirs.

“Be safe.”

#tw panic attack #tw blood #tw choking #ask to tag #In Your Eyes #stewart carter winthrop iii #jokerz ghoul #batman beyond ghoul #batman beyond #ghoul batman beyond #my writing #jokerz ghoul x reader

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