#i don’t usually do digital art this took two days and i am tired

[ghosttotheparty]

[0097linersb]

Pink Lemonade

CHAPTER 1

Pairings: Jaemin x Renjun x Haechan x Jeno x Mark x Reader

Genre: Smut, Fluff, Humor (I guess), Slow burn af

Summary: The dreamies decide to spend some weeks at an Inn in the middle of the nature to relax and enjoy some outdoor adventures, far away from their crazy idol life. What they didn’t expect was the nice girl running said Inn.

Word count: 3k

You should read the intro first so this story makes sense <3

☼  previous / next  ☼

A/N: Honestly guys this fic will probably be long and detaild af ‘cause I’m using it as a distraction from real life lol guess who just finished their engagement. If u would like it to be more straightforward and go right to the fun parts let me know, I’d really like some opinions! Also, it’s like 2 AM so I’ll proofread it tomorrow 

As you woke up the next day, you were not shocked to find that the boys were not up yet. Last night you were surprised to come downstairs to an already fully cleaned kitchen and as much as it made you embarrassed, it also made you immensely grateful. You thanked them and told them to stop being so nice and doing your job for you, to which Mark only responded that seven guys could be really messy sometimes.

You had given them the folders that informed all the activities the Inn (well, you) offered and the ones they could book in the city a few minutes away, it made you smile at how excited they got reading the paper and planning their days. Haechan was already asking if they could go stargazing that same night but the rest of them groaned saying they were way too tired to move after the long trip (and you felt bad once again for having them clean the kitchen).

Everyone eventually agreed on a time for breakfast and you were just sure they wouldn’t wake up that early by the dark circles under their eyes and, turns out you were right. They did go to sleep pretty early the other night, showering after the meal you had and just going straight to bed.

You lazily stretched as you left your room with Koda and Kenai tracing after you, to find a very much awake Jaemin sitting on the living room’s couch holding a cup.

“Good morning, did you make coffee?” You yawned at the boy, scolding Koda so he would get off the couch.

“Good morning. Yeah, sorry for taking the liberty, I really needed to wake up,” He smiled at you, petting your disobedient dog with his free hand so he could get distracted from the way your shirt had ridden up. Damn morning horniness.

“It’s ok, smells good. Are the rest of the boys awake?”

“Nop, and probably won’t be for a while. I know we agreed on going to the lake at 8 but everyone’s dead, I can wake them up if-“

“No, it’s ok,” You laughed. “I imagined this would happen, not a fan of waking up early myself.”

“Oh, you can go back to sleep if you want, I can knock when everyone starts waking up.”

“Don’t worry. You just really made me want some coffee.”

“I left it downstairs, I can go get you a cup.”

“Jaemin, we’re playing opposites here, don’t make me feel useless,” You joked, already making your way to the stairs, missing how the man stared at your legs in your little pajama shorts. “Plus, I need to take the boys on a walk before they become too fidgety.”

“Can I come with?”

“Of course.”

Jaemin was quick to stand up and follow you downstairs, where you quickly poured yourself a cup of coffee and opened the door, the dogs running past you excitedly. You silently lead the way out of your property and into the unpaved road, warming your hands with the coffee mug – The days were hot but the nights and early mornings could be quite chilly, especially with all the trees surrounding you and blocking the sunshine from reaching you.

“Do they sleep with you?” Jaemin asked, pointing at the dogs who were sniffing around the bushes on the side of the road, like they didn’t do this same route every day.

“Sometimes, they often prefer to stay outside, lots of animals to chase when I’m not there to scream at them.”

“They don’t wear leashes?”

“No need to, there’s barely people here and they are really well-behaved. I trained them well, Koda just gets a little bold when we have new guests over,” You smiled, remembering not even 5 minutes ago said dog was trying to get on Jaemin’s lap on the couch. “Do you like tangerines?”

The boy looked at you confused but nodded.

“Wait a second,” You asked before leaving him, walking off the road and into the trees. After a minute or so, you were back, throwing one of the orange fruits at Jaemin. “I steal them from the neighbors sometimes.”

“Will we get in trouble?” He asked but was already peeling the tangerine with his hands.

“Nah, they are never here. These would just rot.”

“Seems only fair then.”

You walked for another few minutes in silence, eating happily as you appreciated the sound of your feet crushing the small rocks on the floor.

“Ok, tangerines do not go well with coffee,” You make a face after eating half of your fruit, only now stopping to pay attention to the actual taste in your mouth.

Jaemin laughs at you before putting his last slice into his mouth, “Cute.”

“There’s nothing cute about this flavor.”

“Didn’t bother me,” He shrugged, smiling down at you.

Damn that boy was too attractive for his own good. You meant, all of them were.

It was just unfair, really.

The two of you talked a bit more until you hit the end of the road and then made your way back, it was a light-hearted comfortable conversation and you liked the way it made you feel warm inside. You learnt that Jaemin likes to photograph stuff and you asked him to take lots of pictures during their stay so you could use them on the Inn’s social media, telling him you shared that hobby with him. You then started a discussion about digital vs. film photography, in which you two clearly didn’t agree on, but it kept you entertained for a long time.

“Listen, technology evolved to this point to make life comfortable and easier for a reason!” Jaemin whined as you two were entering your property once again. “Is there something worse than developing your pictures only to find out your film was ruined?”

“That’s the thrill of it!” You exasperated.

“I call that heartbreak.”

“It’s a raw form of art for the strong hearted,” You sigh dramatically, opening the door for the man.

After your half an hour walk, as you got back home, only Renjun was up, pouring himself some coffee and looking super sleepy.

“Good morning, slept well?” You asked as Jaemin made his way to sit down on the table after getting Renjun to pour him some more coffee.

“Yeah, this is the first time I dreamt in months,” He smiled at you but his eyes were still half closed. Like you, Renjun was still in his pajamas, light sweatpants and a wrinkled white t-shirt.

“Do you guys want to eat something before breakfast?” You asked, not knowing how long they would have to wait for the others.

“It’s ok,” Jaemin answered.

“If you change your mind just let me know,” You smiled, wondering on what to do now, since you had already prepared the food for today last night and didn’t have any other chores until everyone was up so you could make their beds.

You figured the boys would drink their coffees and go talk or lay down in the hammocks, maybe even try to nap a bit but you were proven wrong when Renjun pointed at the end of the table suddenly excited, “Are those cards?”

“Yeah.”

“Can we play?”

“Of course.”

The man was quick to pick up the little box and sit down across the table from Jaemin, who tapped the place next to him before you had the chance to leave. You happily took on the offer, content with finally spending some fun time with people your age. No, scratch that: Attractive men your age.

“Let’s play Rummy!” Renjun suggested, the sleepiness leaving his body at the simple thought.

“I have no idea how to play that,” You informed.

“It’s ok, I’ll teach you. Come closer,” Jaemin smiled at you and you obeyed, heart beating fast at your thighs suddenly touching. What were you? 12?

The game was way too complicated for your morning brain to understand so you basically just watched the boys play, giving your input here and there.

“Jaemin, here!” You excitedly pointed at one of the cards he was holding.

“Oh, I had missed that, smart girl,” He smiled at you, patting your thigh as a thank you or maybe a praise, making your heart almost leave your body through your mouth. 

Freaking pet names dude.

After an hour or so playing, Jeno and Haechan appeared already fully clothed and awake. The second boy gave you and Jaemin a weird look, noticing how the boy’s right hand was just casually resting on your thigh. At some point it just happened and it felt comfortable (if you ignored your blood pumping through your body twice the normal speed, of course), it had been months since you had flirted with someone and you were enjoying the touch fully, thoughts of being professional nowhere to be found.

You greeted the boys and they sat down too, informing Mark and Chenle would be down in a second and Jisung would just skip breakfast to sleep. You decided then to get up and leave them to chat as you went into the pantry to organize the food you had prepared yesterday, into the baskets.

“Dude,” Haechan whispered to Jaemin.

Just by looking at the boy, Jaemin already knew what he wanted to comment on so he just, “Don’t.”

“Game on, bro.”

“What? This is not a game, we were just-“

“I said game on, bro.”

Jaemin sighed and gave up, knowing Haechan was just joking and being annoying as usual.

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

After all the men (minus Jisung) were downstairs and ready to go, you guided them down to the lake, setting up one of those cliché plaid towels for everyone to sit on. As you and Mark organized the foods around, you smiled at the others running around the grass and taking pictures, impressed at the view. The lake really was pretty and your property had a privileged clearing to sit down and enjoy it.  

“I would love to say they are normally not this energetic,” Mark smiled at you, placing the bowl with the grapes and strawberries down. “But I’d be lying.”

“It’s refreshing, I rarely deal with people my age around here. We didn’t add bingo to the activities’ folder for no reason.”

“There are no clubs or bars around here?”

“The biggest city around has barely 2.000 habitants so I’ll say no to that. Although this region is becoming really famous for the ecotourism these days, they opened a nice pub for the tourists like last month but there’s only ever people during the weekends.”

“Well, if you ever go to Seoul, let me take you out,” Mark offered before realizing what he had said and stiffening, cheeks going red like the watermelon juice in your hands. “I mean, like, to show you the places and-“

“That sounds fun,” You smiled at him, deciding to end his misery right from the start. He was cute. “Boys, the food is ready.”

Jeno excitedly dropped Haechan down (who he was holding for a picture) and ran over, leaving a very whiny boy on the floor. Jaemin took a picture of that and soon enough, everyone was sitting down on the picnic clot.

“Wow, it looks like we’re in a movie,” Renjun awed, looking around.

It really did, that’s why you liked bringing the guests to this spot on their first day. After everything was set, the scenery resembled a Renaissance painting and you loved it. It was a bit hotter than normally since it was a few hours later then the time the guests usually have breakfast, but the gentle breeze of the wind was enough to not make it unbearable.  

The meal was fun, the boys made you feel so comfortable that it felt like you have known each other for a longer time than the actual truth. You all chatted, joked around and posed for pictures with the food. You had brought your analog camera just to tease Jaemin, asking him to take a picture with it for you.

“How do you want it?” The boy groaned, pretending to be annoyed.

“Here, I have an idea,” Haechan shared, excitedly, holding up one of the strawberries from the bowl in front of your face. “Bite it on the side.”

You accepted the advice confused, not understanding where he was trying to go with it but excited, you loved a good old-fashioned improvised picture. Jaemin pointed the camera at you and counted to three, and you smiled around the strawberry when on the count of one, Haechan bit on the other side of the strawberry and looked at you cross-eyed. After you saw the flash of the camera going off, you decided to take a big bite of the strawberry to play around with Haechan but apparently the boy had the same idea and your lips ended up touching, slightly. Since when has your life become a cliché teenage movie? 

You quickly took the stem of the fruit from between your mouths, pulling away from the boy to tease him, “Damn. Didn’t even buy me dinner first.”

The others joined in on teasing Haechan but the man simply winked at you, “Would be my pleasure.”

You didn’t even have time to giggle before the other men pretended to puke and Renjun legit slapped Haechan.

                                       _____________________________________________

The boys decided to not do any activities that day because Jisung would simply not wake up and after a while waiting, Chenle decided to join him on the hibernation. It made you feel sad for them, that their days were so busy and tiring that at the first sight of some time off, they would sleep for hours and hours to make up for it.

The rest of you decided to play some volleyball in the parking lot (which  was not the best idea considering it was noon). As expected by the almost 40 degrees climate, one by one, every single boy started taking off their shirts, body dripping and glistening with sweat and you just felt in heaven. This could just not be real, you even looked around for cameras, scenes like that just didn’t happen in real life. One hot shirtless guy was the acceptable quota for normality.

But also, you didn’t miss the way they looked at you in your little shorts and top (equal rights after all). It made you feel powerful even though you knew it was just their hormones talking, yours were screaming too after all. If it was already like that on their second day here, you couldn’t imagine how you would survive for the next few weeks, you just wanted to cry every time Jeno (who was on your team) approached you to celebrate when either of you scored, high-fiving you with his huge arms (you would die a happy woman if you were choked by them).

After the game was over, the boys decided to go swim on the lake to cool off and you figured it would be a good time to shower and organize their beds, which you quickly did before starting to make some lunch for everyone. The youngest ones of the group didn’t even wake up to eat so you decided to leave them some food in the microwave in case they got hungry in the afternoon.

Unfortunately the Wi-Fi was being annoying as usual and refused to work, so you couldn’t even google about the boys yet, the curiosity was almost killing you. Maybe it was better like that, right now you were just seeing them as 7 young men living their normal lives and you liked it, it kept you from being nervous at the fact they were probably some big stars that had the world at their feet – They all just seemed so chill sprawled around the living room floor playing the bingo you had joked about earlier, it was hard to believe they probably had hoards of screaming girls around them daily.

They thanked you for cleaning their rooms and told you that you didn’t have to, which technically you did, considering it was literally your job and the whole reason you were there.

You could be wrong, considering you have known them for barely 2 days, but you quickly noticed some little things about them: Like how Jaemin liked to touch you, even if it was just a light brush of his hand on your arm (in his defense, he was touchy with everyone, but when he touched you, it just lingered for a bit longer), or how Haechan liked to playfully flirt with you, that boy just had no shame and you admired him for that. You saw how Renjun often stared at you but when you looked at him, he looked away (which could mean either he was shy or he just didn’t like you very much), but at least he was more subtle about it, as opposite to Mark, who became a blushing mess every time you caught his eyes (and you just wanted to squeeze him). You realized Jeno was a manlier guy, you hadn’t gotten what his deal was yet but you loved the way his eyes disappeared when he smiled and that was enough for you.

It was funny, really, how everyone decided to ignore the tension in the air and go on with the day normally – You did only meet the day before after all.

After getting bored with bingo, the boys told you they planned on going water skiing tomorrow and you agreed happily, telling them you could have a little barbecue party in the camping next to the docks where your parents kept the Inn’s water sports gears, which got them even more excited.

“Can we go camping too?” Jeno asked, receiving a groan from Haechan. Classic city boy.

“Like at night?” You asked and Jeno nodded. “Yeah, actually the stars here are crazy pretty since there’s no light pollution.”

“See?” The boy told Haechan excitedly, who only sighed, accepting his fate.

Barbecue, bonfire, alcohol and a beautiful sky: You were a city girl too but you were also a sucker for a good camping night.

taglist: @eggbutnotyolk @lauraneuuh @geeisaclown @jenotation @riemm @junguwuuu @prettychaeng @satanssugaraddiction @luvlyjaemin @sweetjaemss @oofimdumb @junglekooks @unknown5tar @rosedchae@

[mxchellesworld]

𝟑 𝐨𝐟 𝐚 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐝 - 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟑

𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐑𝐞𝐢𝐝 𝐱 𝐂𝐚𝐭 𝐀𝐝𝐚𝐦𝐬 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; 𝐏𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐩𝐞'𝐬 𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐦𝐚𝐬 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐢𝐬 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐬 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: none :) mentions of smut as a joke but very fluffy overall 

𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 | 𝐍𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫

***

“Y/n is our girlfriend”

You turned your head to look at Cat. She looked at you with a smile then turned back to face Penelope. You bit your lip to keep back a squeal as Penelope moved to let you guys inside. Her intoxicated brain just needed a moment to process before she was pulling each one of you guys in for a warm hug, saying her congratulations and awes. 

“Hey Pen could you give us a sec,” you said patting her shoulder. 

She quickly nodded then turned around and started yelling at Luke to put down her unicorn mug. 

“So girlfriend,” you said looking between them. They shared small smile and looked back at you. A glimmer in each one of your eyes. 

“Sorry we couldn’t get the collar but I think the title should suffice don’t you think princess,” Spencer said jokingly. 

You playfully punched his shoulder and scoffed. He grabbed his arm in fake hurt as you responded, “You are so funny Spence, I am splitting at the seams. But does this mean I get part ownership of the lounge?”

They laughed and Cat grabbed your shoulders leading you to the dinner table filled with drinks and snacks, “Ok lets not get ahead of ourselves angel. How about a compromise and we get you your very own chair in the office?” 

You nodded with a laugh, “You drive a hard bargain, I’ll take it.” 

“I’m so glad you’re not my lawyer,” you heard Spencer whisper. 

Picking up one of the many decorated paper plates, you started adding on the many treats available. Cookies shaped like Christmas trees and little gingerbread people filled the platter.

Taking in her apartment you noticed it was very her. Walls full of art and trinkets places in little nooks. The she took a colorful take on the holidays with her rainbow Christmas tree that had a star bright enough to be seen from the ones above. 

You looked over to her couches and saw a familiar head of hair. 

“Abbie?!” you called out. 

She gasped excitedly and walked over to you, wrapping her arms around your waist. She had on a pale blue dress that was low cut and showed off her cleavage nicely. 

“Wait are you here with Luke?” you asked her. 

“Uh huh, we’ve been seeing each other ever since that night we went to the club. He’s so sweet and god does he know how to fuck,” she said sighing dreamily. You let out a laugh and congratulated her. 

“Who are you here with?” she asked. 

“I am here with my now official partners,” you said sticking your thumb back to point at Cat and Spencer. Cat had her palm to her forehead as Spencer happened to drop the equally festive napkins all over the floor. 

“So you guys are boyfriend, girlfriend, girlfriend?” she said taking a sip of her eggnog. 

“Mhm,” you said with a grin. 

“I’m glad you’re happy Y/n. You deserve it my love,” she leaned in before continuing, “But if they hurt you again I will not hesitate to kick both of them in the throat.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything less Abs, thank you. And the same goes for you. If Luke does anything stupid I’ll get his ass fired,” you said, knowing you had no authority over it. 

You watched as she turned to walk back and Luke wrapped his arms around her. They giggled in a kiss then he turned giving you a killer smile and a wave. You waved back and sighed. Good for Abbie, you thought, she deserves someone like him. 

The music playing got cut off and you heard Penelope clear her throat, “Alright now that we’re all here I have to make a toast.”

Spencer and Cat walked over to you with glasses of champagne. You took one in your hand and rested your head on her shoulder as Penelope continued her rambling. 

“I have so much love for everyone here. Except you Luke, you have got to learn that I am the superior. But especially you chocolate thunder, I hope you stay the night,” she said with a wink. 

“Love you babygirl,” you saw Derek say blowing her a kiss. 

“Alright P, wrap this up,” the fit blonde from the bar said. 

“Right sorry J, ok where was I? You guys are all so amazing and it makes me warm inside seeing your lovely faces all in one place. Thanks for being my family and bringing in new members. I love you, ok now have fun. Cheers!”

You all laughed and raised your glasses taking a sip of your drinks. The music turned back on and everyone went back to their conversations. Cat and Spencer introduced you to the rest of their ensemble of attractive co-workers. 

The fit blonde, J, which you now found out is short for Jennifer. She was in a relationship with the other brunette Emily. You met Matt who used to work at the lounge as security but now retired to be at home with his wife and kids. Then Tara who happened to teach with Spencer. She had walked into the lounge one day and was pleasantly surprised to see the usually reserved professor tying a girl up. 

That was a story you couldn’t wait to hear at the girls night which you had all planned. 

As the night winded down those who had kids or significant others at home left. The few of you who stayed helped Penelope pick up some of the cups and plates that were littered over her living room. Once you were all cleaned up she wanted to keep the night going and insisted you all played a game of never have I ever. 

You all settled around her kitchen counter and instead of consuming more alcohol you all decided to take bites from a cookie to signify you had done it. 

“Ok I’ll go first, never have I ever gone skinny dipping,” she said with a giggle. 

You, Abbie, Luke, Morgan, and Emily took a bite from your cookies. Cat and Spencer looked at you questioningly. 

“Let’s just say I had a good time in college,” you said making everyone laugh. 

Luke spoke up, “Never have I ever been dommed in front of others in the lounge,” he said with a smirk. 

“You little shit,” you mumbled taking a bite from your cookie. Across from you Jennifer also took a bite, red in the cheeks. Emily proudly put her arm around the shorter blonde. 

“Never have I ever had sex in a public setting,” Abbie said. 

You saw Cat and Spencer take bites of their cookie. Your mouth dropped open as they tried to hide a smirk. 

“Close your mouth angel, you’ll catch flies,” Cat said winking at you. 

_

Once it reached 2 am the game was long over and you were ready to go home and face plant into the mattress. You looked over to Spencer who was talking to Derek . He looked down and put his arm around you, tucking you into his side. Derek smiled at the sight then motioned for Spencer to call him later as he walked over to Penelope. 

“Ready to go home pretty girl,” Spencer asked quietly. 

“Yes please,” you murmured. You could feel how heavy your eyelids were getting. 

“Alright let’s get you some water. A car will be here in 10 minutes,” he said after a few clicks of his phone. 

He pulled out a chair from the dining table and walked around the kitchen getting you a glass of water. He took a seat next to you and rubbed your thigh comfortingly. Across the room you made eye contact with Cat who was talking to Emily. She gave you a smile and mouthed ‘love you’ which you mouthed back. 

Spencer cleared his throat, “She cares about you a lot and so do I. I’m sorry it took us so long to realize and make everything official. We really want to keep you around as long as you’ll have us,” he said softly. 

You noticed the way he was able to express his emotions the best out of the two of them. Nonetheless the reassurance made your insides flutter. 

You turned your body to face him. You pushed some of his curls behind his ear before you responded. “I know. I understand, it was probably hard to bring in someone else to your usual dynamic. I’m glad we’re starting this new chapter though. I love you guys more than you could imagine.” 

He intertwined your hands and pressed a kiss to the back of it. The moment was broken by his phone chiming, signaling the car was outside, ready to take you three home. 

He pulled you up by your hands. Cat noticed and made her way over to the both of you. You said your goodbyes to everyone and walked to the door. The chilly December air made your skin prickle. Once you got in the car you sighed at the warm heater blasting in the compact space. 

Cat took both your hands in hers and rubbed them together bringing warmth to your cold digits. Spencer’s soft humming to a tune in his head helped lull you to sleep. 

They shook you awake as the car stopped, helping you out of the car and the small walk up to their apartment. Once again you sighed at the familiar scent of their candles. Something you would never get tired of. 

Cat helped wipe off your makeup as Spencer did his favorite task of dressing you in his clothes. He slid an old college sweatshirt over your head and kissed your hairline when he was done. The room was in a comforting silence, the small glances and eye contact was enough to convey the words and emotions filling your hearts. 

When they were done taking care of you, you crawled up their bed and pushed away the extra decorative pillows. Snuggling into the now thicker comforter and waited your favorite people to join you. 

You turned to face Cat and she happily laid in your arms. Taking in the scent of your coconut shampoo. Spencer’s arms were long enough to wrap the both of you in his loving embrace. 

As the rhythm of your heart slowed down to an even beat, you still felt nothing but fondness in your soul. 

𝐚/𝐧; 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐮𝐩𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐬, 𝐢'𝐯𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐢𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢 𝐰𝐚𝐬𝐧'𝐭 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐝 𝐨𝐟. 𝐢 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐮𝐲𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐚𝐬 𝐢𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐧 𝐞𝐧𝐝. 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 :)

[prettyinlimegreenboots]

Twelve Days of Holly, Jolly Tidings - Day 11

Disclaimers: I watched “Dash & Lily” the other day on Netflix. This story is LOOSELY based on that book and Netflix series.  I do not own “Dash and Lily” or Newsies or anything recognizable within the series.  There are occasional curse words throughout the series, nothing too horrible but there’s some. 

Catch Up Here

Monday, December 23 

Two days before Christmas found Kat curled up on her couch watching “How the Grinch Stole Christmas” and hugging a mug of peppermint hot chocolate in her hands. Her doorbell rang, causing her to pause the movie, getting up to answer the door. 

Pulling open the door, her eyes went wide seeing someone dressed up as a gingerbread man standing at her doorway.  “Are you Katherine Plumber?” 

Knowing this had Jack’s name written all over it, she slowly nodded. “I am. And you are?” 

Instead of answering her, the gingerbread broke out in song, singing “Holly Jolly Christmas” loudly, along with intricate dance moves and twirls. Part of Kat wanted to slam the door in its face, but a bigger part of her was secretly enjoying the singing gingerbread man. Once he finished, kneeling in front of her with his hands stretched out, she clapped for him. She paused, giving him a look. “Thank you for that absolute stunning performance.”

Pulling the gingerbread man’s hat off, she started laughing loudly seeing who was underneath. Giving her a dirty look, Albert shook his head. “Damn Jack for at least paying me to do this.” 

“Do you want to come in?” Kat asked, pushing her front door wider, allowing him to step inside. 

Albert was one of Jack’s friends that she absolutely adored - he went to college with them. Him and his fiance Finch were really good friends and they were often invited to game night at their house.  “So how much did Jack pay you to do that?” 

“You don’t want to know.” Albert shook his head, giving her a look. “Besides, he told me I had to bring this to you.” 

Holding out the green notebook, Kat took it from him with a grin. “Thank you and thank you for making my day with that song and dance.” 

“You’re welcome. Thank goodness you didn’t get any of that on film.” He grinned, putting the gingerbread man’s head back on. 

She grinned . . . little did he know that she had a Ring as a doorbell. She wouldn’t be sharing that knowledge, allowing the video to do all the talking when she shared it with Jack and Race. 

“Thanks again Albert.” She grinned, walking him to the door. “Have a great rest of your afternoon.” 

She watched him walk down the stairs before shutting the door behind her. Shaking her head, she leaned against her door, opening up the notebook. 

Happy 11th day of Christmas, Kat! 

Hope you enjoyed that performance Al put on for you. BTW, I want the footage from your Ring! 

I apologize that you’re getting the notebook late . . . . it took far too long to convince Albert to do that. I had to bring in the big guns of Finch, Race, AND Spot to get him to do it. But I hope that it made you smile. 

For today’s adventure you’re going to the tallest building in the city. Go climb your mountain, your adventures awaits . . . so get a move on!  Once you’re at the top, continue reading. 

Grabbing her warm hoodie and her coat, she grabbed her bag, tucking the notebook into it before heading out the door. She shook her head, thinking she should’ve grabbed a mug of something warm before hitting the streets. 

Stepping out of her apartment building, her eyes widened seeing the freshly fallen snow that fell overnight. At least six inches had fallen, creating a winter wonderland throughout the streets. Rubbing her hands together, she dug her gloves out, putting them on before heading towards the subway station. 

Ducking into the underground, a heater blows warm air at her before a coldness could seep into her bones.  Walking through the turnstile, she headed for the platform to wait.  She smiled hearing kids jumping and giggling as they too waited for the train to arrive.  With it being two days before Christmas, spirits were high and excitement palpable on the platform.

Skipping onto the train, she watched a little girl mimic her before taking a seat at the far end of the car.  Keeping her eye on the little girl, Kat watched her as she kept a hand on the handrail as she spun, twirling her dress, her infection giggling ringing loudly in the car.  Kat wiggled her fingers in the girl’s direction as her face lit up, eagerly shaking her hand back at Kat. 

Several stops went by before she got off the train, heading to the street level. She would never get tired of getting off the subway and seeing One World Trade Center standing in front of her. The first couple of times she saw it, she would never be ashamed to say that she cried. It was just that powerful and moving. 

Making her way to the building, she was relieved to see the area wasn’t that crowded.  She stopped at the waterfall pools to pay her respects before heading to the stunning tower.  

Walking into the lobby, she bought tickets to the Observation deck before joining the queue to the elevator.  A couple of other people were in front of her so they made quick work on getting them onto the elevator and up to the 102 floor. 

Stepping off the elevator, her eyes adjusted to the bright natural light from the big windows.  Finding an empty bench, she took a seat, taking in the scene of the big windows, the city laid out at her feet, with a 360 degree view. 

Opening the notebook, she found today’s entry before continuing to read. 

Welcome to the One World Trade Center Observation deck. It’s another favorite place of mine - there’s something about being so high in the air that you can see a full 360 degrees around you.  It’s a good place to think and draw when I’m feeling restless. 

Anyways, I wanted you to come here to look at the prettiness of the city from your perch above.  You have your stories about 9/11 just like I do but that’s not the purpose of today’s adventure. It’s just to appreciate the beauty surrounding you. 

So, spend some time reflecting on the beauty around you. Write down everything you see beautiful, no matter how little or big it is. 

Spending the next few minutes, she wrote down everything beautiful she had encountered in the last few weeks. The smile was permanent on her face as she relaxed with the sound of her pen scratching across the paper. 

She felt someone sit down at the other end of the bench but paid them no attention as she continued to write.  Clicking her pen, her eyes reread the things she wrote before moving onto Jack’s scrawl. 

I think one of the things that we all do is getting caught up in the little nuances of the day that we forget that there’s something beautiful in every day. There’s always something good in the messy world we live in. I often have to remind myself to stop and smell the roses - slow down and just enjoy the little things that are around me. 

Now, there’s a surprise for you today . . . . but it’s different from your usual surprises. In the exhibit hall, there’s a Christmas theme exhibit that you’ll want to check out. It’s actually really cool. In the exhibit, you’ll find your surprise. 

Closing the book, she reread the last paragraph, confused by Jack’s words. Knowing, not to question him, she tucked the notebook back in her bag before walking over to the exhibit hall. Walking up the ramp, her eyes widened seeing the whimsical artwork along the walls. There was a wintery scene painted with various creatures greeting her as she walked; a mix of digital artwork and paintings. 

At one point, there was a digital video that played. Watching it, she smiled, getting lost into the artwork that surrounded her. Continuing on her journey, she was stopped by a stunning painting of a woodland scene. The moon was in the corner, shedding light on the many birch trees in perfect lines.  She searched the painting for an artist's name, frowning when she didn’t see one. “Stunning painting, huh?” 

“It truly is.” She whispered, not taking her eyes off the work. “I was trying to find the artist’s name.” 

“The artist’s name is Jack Kelly.” A familiar voice said as she looked over at his shoulder at him. He had a big grin on his face as he stepped up to join her. “Surprise!” 

Her jaw dropped. “It’s stunning Jack, absolutely stunning.”

“Thank you.” He ducked his head, a blush on his cheek. “You kinda inspired it.”

Kat’s eyes furrowed, looking at her boyfriend. “How?” 

“A couple of weeks ago you were talking about going into the woods just to get away, needing somewhere to breath and escape. I went home after that and painted this.” Jack smiled. “I knew they were doing this exhibit and after the hospital mural, I was approached to submit something for this. Your idea of needing to escape and going to the woods was actually good because it fit perfectly in with this wonderland.” 

Slipping his hand in her, he squeezed it. “You’ve inspired more art of mine than you probably know. You’re a good muse.” 

She giggled, a blush crossing her face as she ducked her head.  “That’s good to know.” 

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell you which ones.” He grinned, tugging on her hand as they made their way through the exhibit. “Let’s finish walking through. I haven’t actually seen the rest yet.”

“This is pretty cool . . . do they do this every year?” Kat asked as they stopped to look at a few more paintings. 

Jack nodded. “They’ve done it the last few years. I came last year just to scope it out.” 

She grinned, slipping her arm through the crook of his elbow as they continued their walk. Along the way, Jack pointed out little things that she wouldn’t normally see. She smiled as they finished walking through the exhibit. 

Nodding, she followed him on the elevator as they descended. She watched him out of the corner of her eye. “You alright? Something is off about you but I can’t put my finger on it.” 

“Just enjoying the Christmas feeling in the air.” He grinned. “You know it’s only two days until Christmas.” 

She giggled. “A little birdie told me that. My parents left this morning for California.” 

“Their loss and my family’s gain.” Jack shrugged, leaning over to kiss her cheek. “Come on, let’s head out.” 

Leading her off the elevator, they walked out into the cooler night. Kat tugged on their linked hands, dragging him over to a bench. Sitting down, she shut her eyes, and just relaxed. “Pssst …. what are we doing?” 

Cracking open an eye, she looked at him. “You were the one that talked about taking time to enjoy the little things. So I’m doing what you said.” 

“Oh ok.” Jack grinned, reaching into his pocket to grab something before putting it on Kat’s lap. “While you’re doing that, I’m just going to make sure no one kidnaps you.” 

Feeling a weight on her lap, she opened her eyes to look down - a white box laid there. “What did you do, Kelly?”

“Me?” He asked, eyes widened. “I didn’t do anything. This is your surprise for the day.” 

Her eyes widened, picking up the much bigger box than usual. “It’s bigger than all the rest.” 

“Way to pick up on that Captain obvious.” Jack mumbled, as she reached over and back handed his shoulder. “Maybe you should open it and not hit me anymore.” 

Removing the lid, her eyes went wide seeing a bracelet inside. But she gasped as she recognized the contents on the bracelet. Attached to the bracelet were all the charms from the previous 10 days. Picking it up, she twirled it so she could see all of her little surprises. Looking up at Jack, her lips curled up in a smile. “It’s perfect, Jack. Thank you.” 

Leaning forward, she pressed a kiss to his lips as he grinned. “I’m glad you like it.” 

“It’s a perfect representative of the last 11 days.” She grinned as he took it from her before attaching it to her wrist.   

“Perfect fit.” Jack twirled it so that all the charms hung from her wrist. 

Lacing her fingers with his, she gave them a squeeze. “Hey, I want to say thank you. You have completely turned around this holiday season for me. I love you.” 

“I love you too.” He tugged her close, bending down and kissing her. “I hate it when you’re upset and angry and truth be told, I just wanted to do something that would make you smile. And you’ve got a family that you’ve created all on your own, outside of your physical family and they care just as much for you as you do for them.” 

Shaking her head, she looked down at their linked hands as tears crowded her eyes. “Thank you Jack.” 

“You’re welcome, Kat. I’d do anything to make you smile.” He kissed her. “Anything.” 

Standing up, he tugged her up into a standing position as she slipped her arm in the crook of his elbow.  “So I have a question for you?” 

Looking over at him as they walked, she raised an eyebrow. “Yes?” 

“Is there anything that you would change in the past eleven days?” He looked over at her, his lip between his teeth, as if he was nervous about something.

Taking a few moments to think back on the eleven days, she twitched her mouth as she thought. Jack chuckled at her face watching her. 

“Honestly, I don’t think so. You wrote so elegantly in that journal and made me think about a lot of things. You were constantly surprising me and bringing up the little details of our relationship that, honestly, I had forgotten about. It was a good trip down memory lane.” Kat grinned, shrugging. “But to answer your question, I don’t think there’s anything that I’d change.” 

Nodding, Jack grinned. “Good. That’s what I wanted to hear.” 

“I mean . . .” Kat started, Jack quickly shaking his head. 

“You had your chance to speak your mind and you didn’t.” Jack interrupted, sticking his tongue out at her. 

Her eyes lit up as an idea hit her. “Wait, I have one thing.” 

Jack gave her a look, before nodding. “What’s that?” 

“Another favorite look of mine.” Kat’s eyes lit up and truth be told, Jack would do anything to see her face light up like that again. 

Biting his lip, he thought back on the past 5 years. “Another look . . . hmmmm.” 

“Trying to figure out which one to tell me about or the one that’s less scandalous.” Kat grinned, as they stopped at a crosswalk. 

Jack threw his head back, shaking his head. “No trying to figure out which ones I love more.” 

Crossing the street, they continued to lazily walk down the street, with no real destination in mind. Kat tilted her head towards Jack. “Got one?” 

“This outfit was the outfit you were wearing when I realized that I loved you.” Jack grinned. “We met in October and this outfit was one you wore in the middle of November. Remember when we went to clean up the woods?” 

Kat’s eyes went wide. They had volunteered with a bunch of other kids in their dorms to clean up the ravines behind their campus. “I was in ratty jeans and an old hoodie. That’s one of your favorite looks of mine?” 

“Yes, that’s one of my favorites. You had your hair tied up in a ponytail but by the end of the day, your hair was everywhere from walking in the woods. You kept telling me that you were a mess but I couldn’t tear my eyes away from you.” Jack grinned, biting his lip. “You were so drop dead sexy and you didn’t even know it.” 

A blush crossed her cheeks, as she looked over at him. “Well if I knew that was going to be in your top ten looks, I would’ve cared a bit more.” 

“The thing is, if you had known, it probably wouldn’t be in my list.” Jack quipped back grinning. “Besides, that was the first time that it hit me that I was actually in love with you.” 

She raised an eyebrow. “So how long after that did you tell me?” 

“I think like a week.” Jack chuckled. “But everyone knew I was gone over you. I am surprised that no one spilled the beans.”

Kat laughed. “Much like the last eleven days.”

“Oh I told them I wouldn’t hesitate to kill them and bury their body if they spoke a word about the last eleven days with you.” Jack chuckled, shaking his head.

She threw her head back and belly laughed. “Jack Kelly, that’s awful.” 

“I wanted to make sure those idiots didn’t ruin the surprise for you.” He defended his actions. “But there’s more to come - you’ve got one more day left.” 

Her eyes lit up at that. “Any hints?” 

“Maybe . . . . do you want to know?” Jack asked, as they stepped onto her street. 

Biting her lip, she shrugged. “If it’s going to ruin anything, no I don’t want to know. If it’s not, then sure.” 

“We’re going to one of your favorite holiday places tomorrow.” Jack grinned. “That’s your clue, do with it what you will.” 

Filing the piece of knowledge away for later, she nodded. “I’m really looking forward to it. But you know this blows anything that I got you out of the water, right?” 

“It’s not a competition, Kat.” He raised his eyebrows. “But I wouldn’t sell yourself short.” 

She paused in her step, causing her arm to be ripped from the crook of his arm. “What do you mean by that?” 

“Not uh, Kat. You’re not getting anymore from me.” He chuckled, stopping at the bottom of her apartment stairs. Giving her a look, he held out his hand. “Now I believe you have something that belongs to me.” 

Digging in her bag, she grabbed the notebook, handing it over to him. “Thank you. Be ready by eight tomorrow morning and dress warmly.” 

“Eight is awfully early, Jack.” She raised an eyebrow. 

He chuckled. “Just be ready. I’ll bring coffee and I’ll see you then. I love you.” 

Pushing onto her tiptoes, she leaned forward giving him a kiss. “I love you too and I’ll be ready.”

“Have a good night, Kat. See you in the morning.”  He stole one more kiss before he headed down the street, back to his own apartment. She watched him until she couldn’t see him anymore. Shaking her head, she let her mind reflect back on the past few hours and just laughed. Anytime she spent with Jack would never, ever be bored, that’s for sure. 

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #331

my head hurts way too badly to think up some intro lyrics, so just g’night.

Have you ever become good friends with someone you never met in person? Oh yeah, I've had best friends over the Internet. Hell, I'm closer to many online friends than I am most irl ones. They know "the real me" more. What do you consider your default mood to be? Stressed, probably. Discontent. What’s the longest amount of time you’ve ever kept a goldfish alive for? Not long. Proper goldfish husbandry is a very neglected topic, and I sure as hell never knew how to set up its tank adequately. Have you ever been paintballing? No, don't plan to. It looks like it hurts like a bitch. Do you want a large wedding? No. Did you ever collect any sort of cards? I had a very small collection of Pokemon cards. I didn't collect them avidly. What’re the best and worst books you ever had to read for a class? The Outsiders by S.E. Hinton was the best. The worst was some book we had to read in the 6th grade about a kid during some war that moved around a lot... I don't remember the name or who wrote it, but it sucked. What’s the best meal you had at an amusement park, or If you haven’t been to one, how about a good meal at another place like a zoo, aquarium or museum? I don't know. I haven't been to many. Who, whether a person or company, emails you the most? My PHP therapist emails me a check-in sheet and Zoom link every day there's a therapy session. What kind of sound or noise freaks you out the most and why do you think it scares you? Let's seeeee... I don't know if there's a sound that actually freaks me out. There are some I don't like, but none that like, frighten me. At least that I can think of. What’s the strangest art piece you’ve come across? Biiiitch there's a painting in Amnesia: A Machine for Pigs I'm not gonna go into, but shit fuckin wild. What’s the most clever or unique name you’ve come across for a business? I've definitely heard some cool ones, but I don't know about one that really stands out to answer this. If you had to name one of your hypothetical future children after a song, which song would you pick? Maybe like... okay, I'm blanking. Good thing I'm not having kids to name then, right? What’s the last song you heard? "Down in the Park" by Marilyn Manson is on atm. What is your favorite line from a TV show? *shrug* Any current family issues? No. How many hours do you spend online a day? How do you feel about that? I'm doing something on the computer pretty much... always. I hate it, and I hate it a lot. I don't want my life to be tied solely to the digital plane. I want to do more than bounce back and forth from website to website. Do you think that people have the power to make their own lives better? Absolutely, but there are some things they simply cannot change. It's about perspective and how you play the deck you're dealt. What is the biggest problem in your life right now? Right now, the most limiting thing is my physical health, probably. Just walking being torture affects my ability to exercise, and my body is a major reason - if not the biggest, at this current time - for my depression. This also plays a massive role in jobs I can handle. Not to sound like my emo self writing middle school poetry, but my body feels like a prison. Do you feel that you are loved? I know I am by some people, though I have a hard time understanding why a lot. What is the one thing you want most from life? Life satisfaction. Pride in what I've accomplished. A regular state of being content. Birthplace? I'm just gonna say in eastern NC. Do you believe in love at first sight? No, merely infatuation. Love is much too deep for that. Do you think dreams eventually come true? Some can, but usually only if you put effort into making that so. Favorite fictional character? like ummmmmmmm have you heard of this sassy bastard called Darkiplier- Go to the movies or rent? Before Covid, I loved going to the theater. It was something to do, plus a giant screen is nice. McDonalds or Burger King? McD's. I'm not a big BK fan. I only really went there during my vegetarian phase for the veggie burger. Current annoyance? This motherfucking headache. Last thing you ate? I have a meal replacement shake with me right now, if you consider that "eating." I didn't have a proper dinner. The last solid food I had though was some cookies and cream Greek yogurt. Last thing you bought? With my own money, I think I bought Mom and I some cheap McDonald's order semi-recently? Or maybe paying my $100 deposit for my tattoo was most recent, idk. Soonest thing you are looking forward to? For Mom to get her CT scan and find out what's going on in there. What did you do today? It was a pretty average day. I woke up way too early, though. The only thing even semi-unique about today was I played World of Warcraft for a few hours again; I've been quite unattached to it lately, but I went through an episode today of actually having fun playing. Oh, and I've been battling a migraine. It's more of a severe headache now, at least, but it still sucks big time. Do you like to see it snowing outside? Oh yes, absolutely! When you were in high school did you ever have bomb threats? I believe once we did from a very volatile student that honestly caused quite a lot of trouble. He's dead now. Who knows ALL of your secrets? Nobody. Did you have a job before you were in college? No. Have you ever thought about what it would be like to have a baby right now? That's a terrifying thought, no. Are you on birth control? Yeah, but just because it tames my menstrual cramps. Without it, they could be debilitating some days. Who is your last sent text to? My best fren. Have you ever eaten at Chipotle before? Possibly? Idr. Do you swear often? Excessively. I had a dirty mouth prior, but my swearing got really bad when I started staying at Jason's house a lot. He and especially his mother swear like mad. Do you own any shirts with a peace symbol on it? No. Do you have your national flag hanging up anywhere outside your house? Not at this house, no. Would you ever go to Japan? Oh, yes. I would love to. It's... very morbid, but I would really like to walk the (public) paths of Aokigahara Forest, nicknamed "Suicide Forest" for the horrible amount of, well, suicides that happen there via hanging. Like, you might just casually run into a dead body. I want to just... feel it there, walk in silence and empathize with people who didn't know what else to do and hope so deeply that those departed know they were never alone in their pain. I know with absolute certainty I'd probably be teary-eyed the whole time and cry a whoooole lot, but it's just an experience I want to have. What was the last thing you went to Walmart for? Some basic groceries. What should you be doing right now? Sleeping, given this headache... I just don't want to yet. Are you afraid of getting your heart broken? I'm fucking terrified of that ever happening again, far more than words can properly express. Have you ever been in a choir? Yes, actually; when I was a Catholic kid, my sisters and I were in the church choir for a year or so, idr. Do you have a Twitter? Yes, but only to like Mark's tweets, haha. Oh, and very rarely enter giveaways I'm interested in. Describe your retainers to me, if you have them, that is. I have a permanent metal one behind my front row of bottom teeth to keep those straight. My upper teeth had one of those normal retainers you take in and out, but I didn't wear it enough, so now it doesn't even fit. Would you like for someone to call you right now? No. I'm tired, my head hurts, and I'm enjoying the song I'm bingeing. It's so weird, I rarely ever go on music hunting trips (no real reason, I just... don't), but I've found great shit lately. Do you like to brush your teeth? No; it's a chore. I only do it because I don't want my teeth decaying, falling out, or getting too yellow, and the taste in your mouth and gritty texture on your teeth isn't exactly great when you don't brush. Have you ever had a surgery? Two. Give out your phone number over the internet? I have over private messages. Do you look older or younger than you actually are? Given my wardrobe (like graphic tees and band shirts), I probably look younger in the eyes of especially older people. I personally say I look my age, though. When is the next time you’ll be up on stage? I never plan to be again. What is the last show that you watched a full episode of? Some cooking show with Mom. Nailed It!, I think? Do you know anyone who lives in Utah? No. I love Utah, though; it's actually a place I'd be willing to live in with just how pretty it is and not super populated. Do you get your feelings hurt easily? VERY. I'm probably one of the most sensitive people you can meet. Do you still talk to the person you last made out with? Yeah. Have you ever seen your best friend cry? Ugh, yes. What kind of vitamins did you take as a kid? First we took those nasty, chalky Flintstones kinds, but as time passed, Mom moved onto giving us gummy bear vitamins that were perfectly fine. Did you get any compliments today? No. Are you friends with your neighbors? Not "friends," no. What towns have you lived in? Three different ones. That's all you're getting. Have you ever thrown up from drinking? No. Done any illegal drugs? No. I mean I've had some alcohol underage, but I've never done anything remotely hardcore. What’s the longest amount of time you’ve been on an airplane without changing flights? Idk. Who have you texted today? My mom and best friend. What time did you wake up this morning? Ugh, like five in the fucking morning. I couldn't go back to sleep. What is your favorite condiment to go with french fries? Ketchup. What do you have a habit of doing when engaging in a conversation with someone? Making shitty eye contact, and I'm one of those people who "talks with [their] hands." I also lose my train of thought a whoooole lot. Have you ever layed in a hammock? Yeah; we had one growing up. Have you ever lost a pet in a tragic way? How did you cope? Well yeah, I've had lots of pets, so thus lost some in particularly painful ways. The most scarring loss of a pet though is as follows: Teddy, my dog, picked up one of our cat's very young, wandering kittens in his jaws in a manner that looked as if he was trying to carry it like Aphrodite (the mother cat) does when she would bring them back behind the couch, where she gave birth/had her little "nest." I absolutely freaked and had to pry the kitten from his mouth, and it slowly died in my hands. I think Teddy accidentally crushed its ribs. I. Was. A. Mess. Then, there was Aphrodite herself. I've told the story before of our former neighbors calling animal control because our cats would wander through their yard, and all of our cats were taken away while I was unaware at school. Came home, and they were all gone. Aphrodite was my baby, so I was devastated. Screaming, sobbing, cursing on the porch for like 20 minutes... It was awful. What type of curtains do you like? I don't... know? I don't know the actual names of any types... What type of quality is a must-have in a friend? I absolutely cannot be friends with someone who thinks they're above everyone else. Are you any good at reading someone's body language? I think I am. What goes good with a nice cold glass of milk? Cookies! Especially Oreos. Dip it in there for around five seconds, and it's perfection. What fruit is too sweet to you? Grapefruit came to mind first. How did you feel after your first kiss? I had butterflies galore and was so giddy and smiley. After the first, I just wanted to kiss him a billion more times. What’s your favorite constellation and why? I don't have one. Shower curtain or door? Curtain. The glass doors are too revealing. Have you ever thought to yourself that you’re the luckiest person in the world? Most deeeeefinitely not. What time of day do you most enjoy looking at the sky? Sunset if there are clouds present, but sunrise if the sky is pretty clear.

[yesloverboy]

Baby You’re a Haunted House (Iwan Rheon!Mick Mars x Reader)

Requested: Anon

“Hi! Could you do a Mick Mars one shot where Mick and the reader are really close friends and they’re watching a scary movie at his house and she’s scared so he lets her stay over. And she has trouble sleeping so she sneaks into his room and they both awkwardly admit they like each other?”

note: finally, after an arduous hiatus brought upon by school, I have a new little request to add to the library. I’m a little rusty so I hope it’s up to par. I don’t deserve your patience, but I’m glad y’all have stuck around. :’) (also if anyone wants to change their taglist preferences, lmk)

word count: 3,219

[no warnings! just two idiots in love!]

tags: @lauravic, @lululovesgwtw, @kingbouji3, @oldschoolimagineblog, @thecrue, @colsonbakersnoseringmain

 To say you had a stressful week would be an understatement. Despite your best efforts to hold it together, things just seemed to go completely wrong of their own accord. You burnt your toast at breakfast, found an angry pink parking ticket on your windshield, and spent the entirety of your day working your fingers to the bone. It could have been your sour mood, or the melodramatic attitude you had developed since waking up that morning– but the day seemed completely and utterly cursed. 

 Even as you leave your shift, you can’t help but stare bitterly at the sun as it dips lazily into the horizon, wondering what exactly you did to make everything feel so shitty. It’s a Friday for Christ’s sake and it seems as though you hadn’t even gotten the opportunity to look forward to the weekend, let alone make plans. 

 Speaking of Fridays, you think, eyes flitting down to the watch dangling loosely from your wrist. The hands point toward 6:45, making it known that you are running incredibly and unbelievably late. Flustered, you sprint to your car, keys jingling noisily between your fingers. You should have left at least half an hour ago, but there had been so much going on at work that you lost track of time.

 “Shit!” you exclaim, jamming your key into the ignition and speeding recklessly out of the parking lot. Tires screech against the asphalt as a cloud of dust erupts from behind you, settling only when you skid out onto the open road. The sky quickly shifts from honey orange to dusky purple as you retreat from the glittering lights of the city, instantly becoming more relaxed at the sight of sparse houses and distant mountains. 

 You and your best friend, Mick, have a Friday night tradition of staying in and watching movies while the rest of his friends– and bandmates –go out to wreak havoc on the remaining population of Los Angeles. Mick is similar to you in a lot of ways; you’re both the strong and silent type, usually only speaking when spoken and always responding with a biting comment. The two of you met in a record store off Sunset Boulevard, quickly bonding over your love for the emerging metal scene and your hatred for cheap glam rock. Nothing was ever smoke and mirrors with Mick– no, he was raw and honest. Something you admire far more than you’re willing to admit. 

 Fingers tightening around the steering wheel, you suppress the feeling of your heart twitching excitedly against your ribs. You aren’t sure what’s been up with you lately, but every time you’ve seen Mick these past few weeks your heart has begun to skip along to an unknown rhythm. This new sensation makes you grit your teeth in frustration. Mick is your best friend, you have no reason to feel anxious around him. Right? 

 Typically, when something abnormal is going on in your life, your first instinct is to tell Mick, but you already know this isn’t the kind of conversation you’re prepared to have with him. These days, it feels as though Mick is the only person you can really be yourself around and you can’t imagine jeopardizing your friendship for the sake of talking about your feelings, of all things. 

 With a heavy sigh, you pull into the sloping curve of Mick’s driveway, hoping the walk to his doorstep will be just enough time to get your head back on your shoulders. You rap on his door with a heavy hand, listening to the sound of crickets thrumming softly in the distance. It’s times like this where you find yourself thankful that Mick decided to move outside of the Los Angeles city limits. Sure, the drive is long and the daytime traffic could be excruciating, but there’s at least some semblance of stillness in the air. 

 Mick pulls open the door, greeting you with a soft smile and bright eyes. Rather than wondering what took you so long, he gives your disheveled appearance a once over and simply asks, “Long day?”

 You nod, the fatigued slump in your shoulders only getting heavier as Mick motions for you to step inside. Abandoning your jacket and keys by the door, you flop onto Mick’s plush sofa with a content groan. 

 “Sorry I’m late,” you mumble, voice partially muffled by the pillow pressed firmly against your cheek. At this point, you had been over to Mick’s place so many times that it was slowly starting to feel like your own. You roll on your side, arms cradling the side of your head as you gaze upward with glassy eyes. 

 Mick just chuckles and lifts your legs so that he can sit underneath them, allowing your calves to rest comfortably in his lap. His fingers ghost the exposed skin of your ankle, making your breath hitch uncomfortably in your throat. The gesture is so familiar and yet, you can’t help but feel as though it were the first time. To your relief, Mick doesn’t seem to take note of your sudden uneasiness, and instead picks up a video tape from the glass coffee table in front of you. 

 “I rented A Nightmare on Elm Street,” Mick grins, “you seen it yet?”

 You sit up, eyebrows knitted in concentration as you study the tape, unsurprised to see that it’s a horror movie. The cover art depicts a young girl staring entranced at a set of knife-like fingers as they hover menacingly above her head. The guys in Mick’s band often joked about him being some kind of ghoul or vampire, and his love for the spooky and supernatural really didn’t help his case. 

 “Another slasher, Mickey?” you tease, shoving at his shoulders playfully. Just last week the two of you spent the night watching My Bloody Valentine, all the while jeering and laughing at every ridiculous mistake that the characters made. At this point, it may as well be a Friday night tradition. 

 Mick rolls his eyes, “Come on, Y/N. It’s not just a regular, old slasher. This guy is supposed to come after you to haunt your dreams and shit.” 

 “What? You sick of me haunting yours?”

 “Never,” Mick scoffs, flinging your legs to the side so he can get up and feed the tape into the VHS player. “Not if it’s you.”

 For the umpteenth time that evening, your heart leaps. 

...

 As it turns out, Mick was right, it wasn’t just a silly slasher movie– it was a fucking terrifying slasher movie. By the time that the television screen faded to black and the credits began to roll, you hardly noticed the way your body had wrapped around itself in terror. Gripping the blanket across your lap, you jump as the dark living room becomes illuminated in pale, yellow light. You peer behind a wall of couch cushions to see Mick lurking by the lightswitch with a smirk dancing on his lips. 

 “Jesus, Y/N, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were scared,” Mick grins, his expression infuriatingly smug.

 You feel your face grow hot as your heart hammers noisily in your chest, a mixture of embarrassment and frustration bubbling from within.

 “I wasn’t scared,” you insist, “I was just–just, uh, startled is all. Long day, remember?” Gesturing to your blanket enshrouded form, you hope that the dark circles under your eyes are enough to persuade Mick to say he’s ready for bed and leave you be.

 “Speaking of long days, it’s getting pretty late. Why don’t you just crash here for the night?” Mick points to the digital clock on his mantle, the bright red numbers flashing 1:32. 

 You nibble on your lip wordlessly, trying your best to ignore the feeling of butterfly wings tickling your stomach and climbing into your throat. Mick has a point, it is getting late. However, in all your time as friends, Mick had never once invited you to stay over. Would this change things? Could it change things? 

 “Um, Earth to Y/N?” Mick steps over to your place on the couch a waves an impatient hand in front of your face, making you jolt upright. “What’s the matter? Freddy got your tongue?”

 “You little shit, I swear to God I am not scared–!” your tangent is interrupted as a clap of thunder rumbles from somewhere outside the window, the panes rattling and shaking in protest. 

 A dramatic yelp escapes your lips before you have time to rationalize what’s happening, making Mick double over in laughter. With trembling hands, you pull the blanket up over your head in an attempt to shroud your humiliation from Mick’s taunting eyes. 

 “F-fine, you win!” you relent, voice muffled beneath the quilted fabric. 

 Mick pulls the blanket away from your face, his dark blue eyes glittering with amusement. “Guess we’re having a slumber party after all.”

 “If you wanted a sleepover, you could’ve just asked instead of scaring the fuck out of me. We could have braided each other’s hair by now,” you grumble bitterly. 

 “Better luck next time, I guess,” Mick flicks off the lightswitch with a devious grin, leaving you enveloped in darkness, “Sleep tight, and don’t let the interdimensional sleep demons bite…”

 “Oh fuck off,” you squeak, uneasiness creeping on you as Mick leaves you alone in the blackness of his living room. Living closer to the city’s epicentre, you can’t even remember a time it was this dark in your apartment, let alone right outside the window.  

 Bundling yourself into a tight cocoon, you try to let the rare patter of California raindrops soothe you into unconsciousness. Just as the fuzziness of sleep starts to curl around your weary mind, another clap of thunder rattles through the walls of Mick’s house, your eyes snapping open in fright. You attempt to regulate your frantic breaths, chanting sweet nothings of normalcy and security to no one in particular. But, no matter what you do, nothing seems to unprickle the hairs standing rigidly on the back of your neck. 

 Rolling over, you decide to face the room in the hopes that your tired eyes will eventually adjust to the darkness. The shadows seem to squirm and shift as your spine tingles with paranoia, making you curse yourself for ever agreeing to stay in the first place. You groan internally when you realize that, in the time you’ve spent anxious on the sofa, you probably could have made it home by now. 

 Goddammit, Mick. 

 Ignoring the oppressive movement of the shadows, your eyes wander toward the hallway. The position you have on the couch gives you a direct view of where the curve of the hall snakes into the door of Mick’s bedroom. More than anything, you wish he had stayed out in the living room with you rather than retreating to the confines of his bedroom. It would have been completely unfair to ask that of Mick considering it’s his house, but you can’t help it. You hadn’t been this afraid of the dark since you were a kid and, as far as you knew, Mick wasn’t scared of anything.

 The longer you lay scrunched up on the couch, the more tempted you are to just barge into Mick’s room and see whether or not he’s still awake. Minutes feel like hours as you debate the odds of Mick being mad–or worse, weirded out–at the sight of his best friend shaking him awake in the middle of the night. If Mick were having the same problem you probably wouldn’t be upset, right? Then again, there was a better chance of hell freezing over than Mick actually being afraid of the dark. 

 Deciding you can’t handle being alone a second longer, you swiftly untangle yourself from the comforting embrace of your blanket cocoon and place your bare feet on the cool, wooden floor. Shivering slightly, you hug your arms around your shoulders protectively and pad toward Mick’s bedroom, a nervous lump knotting in the back of your throat. 

 You approach the white door apprehensively, wondering for a brief moment if testing your friendship like this is even worth it. With a hefty sigh, you abandon all caution and pull the door open, a soft breeze rushing forward and tickling your face from the sudden movement. Heart thudding unceremoniously in your chest, you find yourself faced with the sight of your best friend sleeping soundly in a tangle of black velvet bedsheets. 

 Lying flat on his back with arms crossed securely over his chest, Mick slept like the dead, looking just as peaceful and twice as forbidden to disturb. A soft smile ghosts your lips at the sight of Mick looking so unwound and at rest. He was always a high-strung individual, that much is true, and watching him sleep so soundly made all your anxieties from earlier feel unbelievably not worth the effort. The realization that Mick’s face alone is enough to settle your nerves makes your heart hammer out a strangled pulse of adoration, twisting your stomach into a knot. 

 Inching away slowly, you decide that it’s probably for the best if you just saunter back to the couch and squash your feelings. Mick deserves a good night’s rest, not a lovesick best friend who is becoming blindsided by her feelings. Cursing your heart for being so fixated on the trivial human need for intimacy, you take a step back and immediately bump right into Mick’s dresser. 

 “Fuck,” you hiss as the dresser’s wooden frame trembles noisily against the floor.

 To your horror, the man in front of you begins to stir. Raising balled fists to his eyes, he wipes away the sleep and glances over to the source of the sound in a haze of weary confusion. Your heart plummets to the ground as his eyes find yours in the darkness.

 “...Y/N?” he mumbles, as he rises stiffly from his pile of blankets like a mummy from a sarcophagus. “Am I dreaming?”

 “I was just leaving,” you squeak, hoping beyond hope that Mick would be tired enough to think nothing of his best friend suddenly creeping into his room in the middle of the night. Turning on your heel, you attempt to reach for the door knob but are immediately halted by the sound of Mick’s voice. 

 “Wait–” Mick calls out, his voice faint, “stay.”

 You suck in a breath, grateful that the cover of night conceals the cherry red flush of your cheeks. Taking a tentative step forward, you find your fingertips gingerly clinging to the cool metal of the doorknob in worry. Swallowing the lump in your throat, it feels as though you might be the one dreaming. 

 “Mickey, look, I can explain, I, uh–I was just…” you stumble over the words of your confession, eyes now well-adjusted enough to see Mick’s expression go soft, almost as if he were concealing a smile. 

 Mick chuckles at your embarrassment, his gravelly voice making your heart flutter involuntarily. “You were scared, weren’t you?’

 “Yeah,” you sigh, not bothering to dig an even deeper hole, “I guess I was.” 

 Staring down at your bare feet, you allow a beat of silence to pass between the two of you. Mick says nothing, only stares, and for a moment you squirm at the thought that you may have overstayed your welcome. The thought alone is enough to make you cringe.

 Mick clears his throat, startling you out of your compulsive rumination. Peering up like a scolded child, you watch him scoot toward the far end of the mattress and straighten out his wrinkled duvet with a lazy hand. 

 “Well don’t just stand there,” he grins, “get in.”

 “Seriously?”

 Mick rolls his eyes and pats the empty space for emphasis, “Yes, seriously. Freddy can’t get ya so long as you’re with me– scout’s honor.”

 “As if you were a fucking boy scout,” you snort, unable to let your previous feelings of shame conceal the utter ridiculousness of the present situation. Here you are standing at the bedside of your best friend with a bleeding heart, and he’s already prepared to bandage you back up.

 “But it’s the thought that counts, right? Now hurry your ass up, I want to get back to sleep.”

 Your feet seem to propel you forward of their own accord and, before your neurotic brain can shift into overdrive, you’re already nestling into Mick’s bedsheets. You hum comfortably, the velvet still warm from where he had been sleeping. Every inch of the fabric smells of him, and it takes the last shred of your willpower to not just let your feelings leak straight out of your mouth and onto deaf ears.

 “That’s easy for you to say, Mickey,” you tease weakly, “you’ve never been scared of anything.”

 “I get scared sometimes,” Mick confesses, “I just wouldn’t want you to ever think differently of me because of it.”

 You don’t need to see Mick’s face to know that he’s frowning.

 Emboldened by his sudden admission of vulnerability, you turn on your side to face him. Mick’s eyes are fixed firmly on the ceiling, as if all the answers to life’s deepest, darkest questions could be etched somewhere in the popcorned pattern.

 “W-what do you mean?” you meant to sound confident, but your voice comes out as barely more than a whisper.

 To your disbelief, Mick turns over as well, his deep blue eyes shining through the shadowy bedroom like the frothy caps of a stormy sea. You can practically feel your heart reaching out to him, begging to pull you under and keep you there. 

 Mick’s hand finds yours somewhere beneath the velvet sheets and gives you a gentle squeeze, his warm palm enveloping your cold one in an instant. 

 “There’s something I want to say but I’m afraid…” he whispers, voice as delicate as spun sugar, “...I’m afraid I’ll lose you if I do, and I don’t wanna lose you.” 

 For a moment all you can do is blink, your mind reeling from the implications of what your best friend may or may not be admitting to you. You know that you need to say something quick, but your tongue turns to sand in your mouth. 

 Mick’s hand still entwined with yours, you take the opportunity to move in closer. Slowly you close the gap between the two of you, leaving nothing but the space reserved for the halo of mutual body heat forming around your place in the sheets. 

 “I think I know what you mean,” you bring Micks hand to your chest and let the frantic pulse of your heart do all the talking. 

 Without warning, Mick gives you a gentle kiss on the nose. The touch is so faint, you’re almost worried you may have imagined it.

 “Y/N?” 

 “Yeah, Mickey?”

 “I think I love you.”

 Your free hand rests gingerly on your best friend’s cheek, and for the first time that night you find yourself unafraid of what comes next. His face is red hot to the touch, and you wonder if anyone else knew Mick could be so warm. 

 “You sure you’d want to do a crazy thing like that?”

 Mick just chuckles and shakes his head, “Nothing feels crazy when I’m with you.”

 “Then I guess I’m just gonna have to love you, too.”

[collectingsparechangemadeeasy1]

Lucky Charms Week Day 6. Bird Shenanigans. My friend on Discord made the art, I wrote the ficlet.

Clover was sitting peacefully in one of the academy gardens, enjoying an impromptu lunch. He could have eaten it in the cafeteria or in his quarters, but it was just so nice out today he decided to eat outside surrounded by flowers and plant life. He took a bite of his ham sandwich and just let himself relax in the sun. Nice days like today were pretty rare in Atlas, the weather was usually cold and snowy or cold and sunny. Right now it was warm, for Atlas at least, so he was gonna soak it up for as long as he could. 

A bright caw stole his attention and made him look to his feet. Sitting there was a crow, inky black feathers, ruby red eyes, and adorably small. Crows weren’t native to Atlas and he would have been confused, if it weren’t for the fact that he knew just who this particular crow was.

“Well hey there pretty bird, come to join me for lunch?” he playfully asked, bending down to offer the bird a hand to hop on. Which it did, nuzzling his fingers and gently tugging his thumb. Clover chuckled and set his sandwich down on a napkin next to him, using his now free hand to pet down Qrow’s back. “What brings you here? Enjoying the lovely weather? Or did you just wanna see me?” he teased, scratching at the spot right in between his wings that he knew Qrow loved. Qrow trilled happily and fluffed up his feathers before settling them down and lifted a wing beginning to preening himself. 

Clover settled happily with the little bird on his lap and took up his sandwich, taking another bite. It really was a lovely day. Good weather, good sandwich, and an adorable bird keeping him company. Yup, life was good for Clover Ebi. “Hey, you hungry love bug?” he asked, gently scratching the top of Qrows head to gain his attention. Qrow chirped and nodded his head enthusiastically, hopping up and down on Clovers lap making the Ace Op laugh. “Alright then, here you go.” he tore off a large chunk of his sandwich and offered it to Qrow. 

Qrow looked at the offered piece, looked at Clover, back to the piece, back to Clover. He quickly darted to the rest of Clover's sandwich, grabbed it, and took off flying. Clover was left stunned for a split second before he leaped to his feet and gave chase to the sandwich thief. “QROW!” he shouted, running through the garden and back into the building. He felt a little silly, chasing a little black bird through the school. But this little bird had stolen his lunch! This simply could not stand!

“COME BACK HERE WITH MY SANDWICH!” he yelled, racing through the halls after his feathered lover. Qrow just kept flying, always just out of Clovers reach. The jerk was teasing him! Oh Qrow was so going to pay for this! He growled playfully and picked up the speed, nearly catching Qrow only to have him dart ahead once more. 

Their game of cat and mouse took them through nearly the entire academy. He must have looked a sight to the students and faculty he passed. He’d probably be embarrassed if he wasn’t having so much fun with his game. He had always loved games and Qrow knew this, maybe this was the real reason he had stolen Clover’s lunch. He had just wanted to play with Clover. So play they would. 

“Qrow!” he called, though a laugh broke through this time. “Come on! Is this really necessary?” He knew he wouldn’t get a response and he knew Qrow wouldn’t give up the food. But this was part of the game and Clover was determined to win. Soon they turned a corner and Clover got his chance. James had stepped out into the hall in front of Qrow, startling the bird. 

“Gotcha!” he cried, lunging forward and wrapping his hands around Qrow’s tiny body. He felt Qrow squirming and wriggling in his hands desperate to break free. “Oh no you don’t!” he laughed, plucking his prized sandwich from Qrow’s beak.

“What are you doing?” James asked, an eyebrow raised and his eyes shining with clear amusement. Clover felt a heat rise in his face. He had just made a fool of himself in front of his boss hadn’t he? If Qrow’s cawing laughter was any indication then yes, yes he had. 

“Uh, Qrow and I were, um, training?” he stammered, “He was the target and I was supposed to catch him.” Brothers he hoped James believed this. It wasn’t entirely untrue really, Qrow had been his target to catch after all.

“I see.” James mused, a smirk playing on his lips, “Well congratulations then Clover, Qrow isn’t an easy bird to catch.” Qrow squawked and increased his wiggles in Clovers hands. Clover chuckled and gave his superior an apologetic look.

“Sorry sir. I’ve gotta run. More...training to do with Qrow. I’ll see you later though sir.” he said walking down the hall towards his quarters.

“Oh course. Don’t be too rough with him though. He has a mission first thing tomorrow and so do you.” Clover felt his face flush at the Generals words and all but scurried away from his line of sight. It wasn’t like that, but he somehow felt that saying that wouldn’t help anything. So he just stayed quiet and all but ran to his room, a still struggling Qrow in his hands. 

Once the two reached Clover's quarters he deposited the little bird onto the couch and sat down next to him. “Turn back.” he said, gazing intently at Qrow, waiting for him to comply. Once Qrow was back in his human form Clover moved to quickly straddle the lithe man's waist. Qrow was out of breath and giggly under Clover, looking at him with mirth filled eyes.   

“You should have seen your face when you nearly ran into Jimmy! It was priceless!” Qrow giggled, twisting a bit in an attempt to free himself. Clover leaned forward, till he was nearly nose to nose with Qrow. 

“You think that was all funny huh?” he growled, though there was no heat behind it, “Stealing my lunch? Making me look like a fool in front of not only students and staff but my boss as well?” He leaned forward more till his lips were right next to Qrows ear “Well let’s see how funny you think it is when the tables are turned.” 

Leaning back he grabbed his scroll and set it upright on the table facing them. “Hello everyone” he said to the camera as Qrow tried to escape under him. “Today my lovely boyfriend embarrassed me today by stealing my food and making me chase him around the whole school! Then he nearly made me run into my boss! So this is my pay back. You ready Qrow?”

“When I get my hands on you! I swear I’m gonna-” he was cut off by his own squeak when Clover pinched his hip.

“You’re gonna what? You’re gonna squeak? Well I can handle that.” he teased, kneading his thumbs into Qrows sides. Making the poor man beneath him let out a stream of giggles, his hands batting uselessly at Clovers tickling digits. 

“You deserve this you know.” Clover chided, clawing at Qrow’s belly with one hand while the other restrained Qrow’s hands. “If you had just taken the bit of sandwich I offered you, no of this would have happened.”m

“I’m sorryhehehe! It was a johohohke!” Qrow laughed, pulling at his hands caught in Clovers grip. 

“Too late for sorries love.” he tutted, spidering his way up Qrow’s torso to his worst spot, “You did the crime, now you gotta do the time.”

Qrow didn’t get to respond as Clover hit his underarms, tickling without mercy and sending Qrow into hysterics. “This is why you never mess with Clover Ebi’s lunch. Let’s hope you learn something from this.” Clover said cooley, grinning wide at Qrow. 

The tickling lasted a few more minutes before Clover finally took pity on the man, residing his fingers and booping Qrow’s nose. Clover placed his hands on either side of Qrow’s head and stretched his legs out. Once he was in the proper position he dropped down a top Qrow and grinned at him. Qrow groaned but was too weak to do much more than weakly smack at Clover's arm. 

“And you say I’m a menace.” Qrow panted, laying an arm over his eyes.

“You are a menace, but you’re my menace. So it's fine.” Clover beamed, nuzzling his nose against the underside of Qrow’s chin. Qrow grumbled but Clover saw his smile and was pleased.

“You wouldn’t actually send that to anyone right?” Qrow asked, looking down at Clover with pleading eyes.

“Oh, yeah that wasn’t recording.” Clover replied flippantly. Smirking when Qrow tensed beneathing him, “What? You really thought I would send a video like that to everyone? If they wanna see you laugh they gotta work for it! Like I did.” He giggled at the sudden feeling of fingers dancing over his sides, “Nohoho! I already suffered! Haha! Qrow come onhohon!” 

Qrow’s tickle attack was far shorter than Clover’s. He seemed to get bored with it and took to threading his hands through Clover hair instead. “What am I gonna do with you lucky charm?” Qrow mused, pecking Clovers forehead lovingly.

“Love me. Never leave me. Not steal me food?” he hummed, settling down on top of Qrow for a nice nap.

“Sure whatever. I’m tired.” Qrow yawned, putting an arm lazily over Clovers back.

Clover yawned into the back of his hand, “Same. You don’t have any more missions today right?”   

“Nope. Now shut up and sleep.” Qrow murmured, already halfway to dreamland. 

Clover smiled softly, “Sir, yes sir.” and he drifted off with his lover, content in the knowledge that Qrow might think twice before trying to steal his food.

[softspiderling]

you mocha me crazy | t.h.

Summary: an encounter at a coffee shop leaves you with more than a cup full of coffee

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Song I listened to while writing: Here With Me by Marshmello

Author’s Note: while doing research for this piece  fell in love with the LA film school *sigh* Germany is so fucking boring. Also be proud of me, I finished writing to pieces today! *yay*

Warnings: swearing, otherwise only fluff!

Word Count: 1,8k cute words

It has been fairly difficult adjusting to the Los Angeles lifestyle, to say the least. Everything was so loud and bright, and the time difference was horrendous.

Los Angeles was nine hours behind your usual time zone; you haven’t even been here for a week and your classes have already started in full force. Even though the courses were so interesting and your fellow students were really nice, you just were so tired and barely found the motivation to smile at other people and exchange phone numbers.

Which was the reason why you were staggering into the nearest coffee shop after your first class of film history, inhaling the smell of freshly ground coffee beans. You stood in line to order as your eyes scanned the display of baked goods, contemplating whether you should pick up a cookie with your coffee.

“Hi, welcome to Yo Jo Coffee, what can I get ya?”

The greeting pulled you from your thoughts and you smiled tiredly at the cheery barista.

“Hey, can I get a large mocha and uh…” you trailed off, biting your lip as you were trying to pick between the cookies. “A double chocolate cookie please,” you decided and fished your wallet out.

“A mocha and a double chocolate cookie coming right up. Name?” the barista asked as her sharpie hovered over the side of a coffee cup.

“Y/N.”

“That’ll be six dollars and 41 cents,” the barista told you and you waved your credit card around, sticking it into the EC cash terminal to pay. As you were handed the cookie in a small paper bag, you moved to the side of the counter to wait for your coffee.

Juggling your cookie in one and your phone in the other hand, you stuffed your wallet back into your backpack, you looked around in the busy coffee shop.

Warm sunlight streamed through the windows and you fingered at the hem of your shirt, glancing down at your chest where your camera was usually hanging off your neck. Emphasis on usually. You were in such a rush in the morning, you forgot to grab the camera.

You broke off a half from the cookie and took a bite, wondering if you should try to capture a few pictures with your phone, when your name was called. You whirled around and smiled at the barista who prepared your coffee, your hand curling around the warm coffee cup.

“Thanks!” you called over your shoulder as you turned to leave, but before you could even take a sip from your mocha, you collided with someone, sending your cup flying and spilling the hot beverage all over you and the person you bumped into.

“Son of a bitch!” you cursed as the scalding fluid soaked your t shirt and most of your bare legs. Now you were really glad that you forgot to take your camera with you, you didn’t even want to imagine having to try to replace your camera. “Shit!” you heard from the other person and you looked up to see a brown haired guy you bumped into. You couldn’t quiet see his face, because he was looking down at his white t shirt. The white t shirt that was stained with brown blotches from your mocha.

“I am so sorry!” you said quickly and grabbed some tissues, starting to pat the other person down. “That’s quiet alright love, I wasn’t looking where I was going either,” he chuckled with a thick English accent and you furrowed a brow.

“You’re English,” you noted pleasantly surprised at the change from the usual American accent and looked up, finally catching a glimpse of his face. Your hands stilled as you see a face in front of you that has been plastered all over the movie posters, his brown hair tucked under a black baseball cap

“You’re Tom Holland,” you blurted out and Tom grinned boyishly at you. “Why yes, I am. Do you mind?” he asked and gestured towards his torso, where your hands were resting.

“Oh, yeah, sorry!” your cheeks tinged pink and you pulled your hands off of him, handing him a few tissues.

“Thanks,” he smiled at you and started dabbing at the stains, before grimacing and giving up. A barista, lugging a bucket and a mop behind him, gave you a dirty look as he started mopping up the puddle on the floor.

“Sorry!” you squawked and picked your empty coffee cup up from the floor before tossing it in the trash can, looking at it longingly.

“Come on, go order another one. My treat,” Tom said to you, noticing your expression. You turn your eyes back to him and he nodded in the direction of the counter, which made you shake your head quickly. “No, you don’t have to! I was the one who bumped into you, I should be the one buying you coffee,” you protested, which only made him chuckle.

“I insist. I am picking up coffees for my friends anyway, what’s one more?” Tom said and you eyed him before giving in, nodding.  

“Fine. I guess you don’t get treated for a coffee from a famous actor every day,” you mumbled and he laughed, walking up to the counter.

“Hi, I’ll have two iced coffees, an americano and…” he trailed off, looking in your direction. “A mocha.” You added, tucking your hair behind your ear, while you watched Tom pay, before following him to the end of the counter.

“So, what do you usually do besides dumping coffee down other people’s shirts?” he asked you curiously.

“I am really sorry about that,” you said again, ducking your head. “I uh, just started at LA film school.”

Tom laughed a genuine laugh, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “I am just messing with you, love, it’s not a big deal. So, film school, huh? What are you there for?”

“Cinematography. I am really into making videos and uh, I guess photography,” you told him with a small smile.

“Oh that’s sick. You seem to have the same interests as my younger brother Harry. Can I see some of your stuff?”

You raised your eyebrows in surprise at his interest in you, before nodding, pleased. You liked sharing your work with other people, getting various opinions from different people. Art always affected people differently and you liked watching their reaction.

“Uh, yeah sure. I mainly shoot with my camera and I forgot to grab it when I left in the morning, so I just have a couple pictures on my phone that I can show you,” you reached for your phone and swiped to your gallery to show Tom some of your pictures.

“I took most of them back home, I haven’t been in LA that long, and I am swamped with classes so I didn’t really have the time to take a day off to take pictures,” you explained to him while he peered into your phone screen.

You had noticed that he was leaning over your shoulder to look at your pictures, and even though he wasn’t the tallest guy, you were still quiet shorter than him. His cheek brushed yours gently and you swallowed thickly, turning to look at him.

His face was only a few inches away from yours and you could see the faint freckles that were speckled across his cheeks.

“Your photos are really good,” he said softly and you stared at him, your lips slightly parted, before you cleared your throat and turned away with flushed cheeks. “Thanks,” you mumbled and tucked your hair behind your ear.

“I am not the best photographer, can you give me some pointers?” he asked and you look at him amusedly.

“I could try,” you chuckled and he lifted his phone with a grin. “Okay then, look away and act like I am not here, yeah?” Tom instructed you, making you laugh, before doing as you’re told. You can hear a few clicks of the phone as Tom snapped pictures of you, trying your hardest to strike a natural pose.

“I am pretty sure there are a few good ones,” he said proudly as he lowered his phone, swiping through the pictures with you leaning over his shoulder.

“Yeah, they’re not so bad,” you complimented him. Tom managed to capture you with a soft smile, the sun streaming on your face, giving you a golden glow. It was a rather good picture, you had to admit.

“We’ll make a photographer out of you yet.”

Tom smirked at you proudly, pocketing his phone. “I am just that talented.”

“Oh please,” you snorted and rolled your eyes good naturedly. “I got an order for Tom!” the barista called out and Tom lifted his hand, walking over to the counter. You watched his back as he fumbled around with the coffees for quite a while.

“You need any help?” you asked with a grin, your arms crossed.

“No no, I am all good love,” he called over his shoulder, handing the barista a pen before he turned around to you, four coffee cups in a carrier in his hand.

“Here,” Tom said, handing you your coffee.

“Thanks,” you smiled softly, taking a big gulp while the two of you walked out of the coffee shop.

“Well, I guess this is it,” you sighed as you stood outside the doors. Tom chuckled and nodded gesturing to two boys standing by the sidewalk.

“Yeah, my friends are waiting for me and their coffees,” he told you and you nodded. “I gotta get back to class, too,” you said slowly, waiting. You weren’t sure what you were expecting, maybe him giving you his number.

But when he waved at you with a friendly smile, and a “See you around, Y/N.” you realized this was probably your first and last time meeting Tom Holland. With a wave of your hand, you turned on your heel and walked the other way, your cheeks burning.

It was a dream, thinking Tom Holland, out of all people, would give you his phone number after one friendly conversation. He probably met hundreds of people a day, you were merely a friendly face in the mass, you thought bitterly as you sipped on your coffee, heading to your lecture for Digital Editing I.

“Hey, thanks for saving me a seat,” you said to Jane, a friendly girl you’ve met in class.

“Yeah, no worries,” she told you with a smile as you sat down. She eyed your coffee cup before grinning.

“Already picking up guys at coffee shops, huh?” she teased and you looked at her in confusion before turning the coffee cup in your hands, a smile spreading on your face. On the white paper cup, Tom had scribbled his phone number with a black marker, the number adorned with a wide smiley.

“I guess I am,” you chuckled sheepishly, already grabbing your phone. As the lights dimmed and the professor started the lecture, you were typing away on your phone.

Y/N: writing your phone number on my cup was a pretty risky move. What would you have done if I hadn’t seen it?

Your smile widened as your message’s status quickly changed from delivered to read, the ellipses popping up, before disappearing and then reappearing.

Tom: I guess we’ll never find out 😉

Taglist: @sunflowercth

[chaniters]

And the winner is...

Next part of @kruk-art‘s Awan Cormac series. 

Complex stories take a long time to plan!!!

Another hospital scene... 

Spoilers ahead for Rebirth

Previous part is here:  8 https://chaniters.tumblr.com/post/188183225024/blood-in-the-water

__________________________

Hospitals. Wards. Infirmaries. 

You hate them all.

Too sterile. Too familiar. 

Yet here you are, mind full of guilt, sitting by the bed, waiting for him to wake up. Your hand goes absently to the plate where the cookies are, fetching one two. 

Idle time is another one of your pet peeves, and thus you brought something to work on. The decryption programs you brought on your phone are top-notch coming directly from the farm and should work on anything, but the Loan Shark’s data-rod on Elyise has proved impervious so far. Still, you’re not giving up and there are a few more tricks to try. 

You’re almost sure it’s not an American encryption protocol, which only raises more questions as to the true extent of Hollow Ground’s connections. Whatever the case, they didn’t want this file to be seen which is all the more compelling reason to break in and see what’s inside.

You keep on trying though, each new variation of your protocols failing after a short while with a monotonous beep from the phone and the sound of crunchy chocolate cookies the only things letting you keep track of time. 

At least that’s so until…

“Are you going to leave some for me, jerk?”

You put down your phone, looking at him. His eyes are open, and he looks pale. Pale, but awake. 

The immediate wave of relief is so strong you feel you’re about to lose it. But you force yourself to keep it together.

“If you think you’re going to get one of MY cookies, you’re awfully mistaken. It’s going to be baby food from now on for you Marsha!” 

“Baby food? Yuck. I’m out of here!” he says trying to move up before stopping with a pained expression. The movement makes his mods go off, sending a zap towards the machine he’s attached to, which turns off and then reboots

“Watch it sparkles! Those things take a lot to reconnect if you break them... “ you sigh while  “You’re might be patched up but you’re still wounded.  Better get used to it too, you’ve got some horizontal time ahead of you”

“Ugh. Ook…  Maybe I’ll rest for a little bit after all” he relents. 

“That’s how things are going to be from now on. You’re staying there as long as you have to ”

“Who made you boss again?”

“Your mom. Also, she promised more cookies if I stop you from doing anything stupid”

“So you sold me out for chocolate chips?”

“They’re really good,” you say taking another. “Really really good” you add with your mouth full.

You monster…” he says with the hint of a smile.

“Yeah, I get that a lot. So, how long have you been awake?”

“Not sure. Didn’t notice you were in the room at first.”

“Do you know where you are?” you ask “Or what day it is?”

He ponders hard for a few moments examining the surroundings before answering “... The HQ?”

“That’s right. We’re at the infirmary”

“How long I was out though.”

“I’d say about two days, give or take.

“That’s insane. Where are the others?”

“Asleep I guess? It’s 3:00 am”

“Whaa… what are you doing here so late then?” he says narrowing his gaze, making you feel a bit uncomfortable. “I thought you hated hospitals...”

“I do. But I’ve managed so far” 

“Didn’t know you cared that much about me”. Bullseye, he got you there. 

“Don’t flatter yourself” you grunt. “It’s bold of you to assume I’ve got a life outside the hero gig anyways,” you say deflecting. “And this isn’t really a big deal. I get free food. And this is just part of your base, not a real -real- hospital anyways... I mean I could do this for any wounded ally” you add averting your gaze. The snort tells you he didn’t buy into that. 

It was a really bad lie, you’re usually better at this, of course, he knows you wouldn’t get into a hospital -even an infirmary- for just anyone. Well almost anyone, you know that now. Are you losing your touch? If you blush right now you’ll have to just kill yourself right here.

“Look, I’m taking turns with your mom, ok? That’s all! It’s really no big deal.” you sigh. “She left at midnight to get some sleep. She’ll be back in the morning.”

“So you met her?  can’t believe I missed that! What did she even say?”

“Oh uh… Not much… really. She seemed to like me I think?” In fact, she said a lot to you. About how Ricardo keeps talking about you and how he’s lucky to have such a good friend that you’d offer to stay for so long… and a whole LOAD of other stuff about Ortega that you didn’t know. “How are you feeling?”

“My chest hurts like hell. But I’m good at keeping up appearances,” he says with another pained smile. His voice sounds tired. Damn him and his unreadable mind… you couldn’t tell it hurt like that.

“Let’s fix that,” you say as you raise from the seat and start fiddling and adjusting the drips attached to his arm.

“Hey hey hey… What are you doing?” he asks nervously as he watches.

“Increasing the painkiller dosage?” you explain matter-of-factly

“But shouldn’t my doctor do that?”

“Fuck him”

“That’s a bit harsh”

You turn to look at him “He took you off painkillers because your sponsors bribed him so they can get a full diagnostic of your mods by the morning. They seem to think the drugs would mess that test’s accuracy.”

“... that does sound like something they’d do, the jerks...” he sighs. “What did you do?”

 “I dealt with it.”

“Dealt with it how?”

“I had him confess what he did, and then killed him”

He looks at you wide-eyed for a few seconds. Wow, he actually believes you could do that.

“Of course I didn’t kill him you asshole! That was a joke. He’ll come back eventually when it’s time to check up on you. I just gave him a time-out”

“Oooh…  It’s just you don’t tell that many jokes. And you were pretty convincing for a moment there. Did I tell you that you look very serious most of the time?”

“Idiot” you groan sitting reassuming your adjustments as he watches, a bit more relaxed now. “By the way I know what I’m doing. I’ve got training as a nurse”

“Really? Maybe I should hire you to do this more regularly. Didn’t know you had medical training”

“That’s me. Big box of surprises. Sadly, you couldn’t afford me,” you say with a smirk. He just snorts, which makes him hurt again. He’s an Idiot and you should probably stop telling him jokes. 

“Ok, doc… Can we move on to the part where you tell me how bad it is?” he says looking at his chest. “Or do we need the real doc for that?”

“Nah, I can do that… It’s really bad right now” you start “Nasty cuts. You went into intensive care, but you’re off now, your surgery was a complete success with no organ damage or permanent injuries. You still had blood transfusions twice from two of your cousins who were here when they brought you.  You’re going to have some new interesting scars. Overall, the consensus is that you’re going to be wearing your Charge suit as soon as they can spit you out of here. Your sponsors have prepared some media things for you while you recover, so you don’t lose the limelight, so you can expect cameras up your nose when they realize you’re awake.”

“Well that’s just…” he starts before trailing off.

“Grotesque? Horrible?”

“Business as usual really…” he says taking in a deep breath. 

“I’ll scare them off too if you want. Shouldn’t be hard.”

“How about I hire you to be my personal spook instead?”

“You don’t need to pay me for that,” you say as you finish adjusting the dosage “Also, you should be feeling better in a bit, and if you don’t we can go for a stronger dosage... Or I can even get the asshole to give you something stronger”

“Thanks, Awan” 

“It ‘s ok,” you say taking your seat again.

His gaze runs around the empty room, the dark corridor outside, and the digital clock by the bed. 3:17 AM. It’s pretty obvious it’s only the two of you right now. 

“Thanks for staying Awan. I know how much you hate hospitals”

“I do hate them a lot. But I told you it’s nothing”

“Not everyone would do this”

“I bet a lot of people would…”

“Nope. Only a really good friend would. “Would you be mad if I told you you’re my best friend ?”

“Wha…? Now you’re just being ridiculous…”

“Because you are my best friend. You know that right?”

“I...” you say averting your gaze. Fuck, you’re going to blush. You rub your face before looking back. 

“Oh. Now you’re mad” he grins. 

“You’re my best friend too, ok?… “ You’re staring right at him, the words somehow escaping your lips very quickly before you can take them back. Shitshitshitshit...Why does this keep happening around him?

He opens his mouth about to say something, before he simply closes it again, giving you a fond smirk before patting your hand next to the bed. He says nothing and neither do you.

It takes a while before he breaks the silence again. 

“Is Elyise alright?” he asks suddenly worried. 

“She’s fine.”

“I just had this feeling of… Did something happen to her?”

“I told you she’s fine. See for yourself” you say with a half-smile turning on the TV. “The news is still raging on about her”

Sure enough the news report show a picture of her at the large screen behind the reporter, with the headlines “Exclusive interview, Elyse”  She’s giving an interview, photo flashes showering her as she answers questions about her relationship with Ortega -which she deflects with some mistery -  and the mess that happened at the docks -which she also deflects-. You’ve got to discuss both of those with Ortega too.

Then a reporter asks her about the death of her mother… she breaks, starts tearing up… one of her PR guys says the interview is over and takes her away. The media is loving her, even if that breaks her apart. 

“Don’t you love Los Diablos Quality TV?” you ask sarcastically. 

“Ugh. That’s my life. I gave her a few hints but you can never be ready for questions like that.”

“What’s the deal between you two?” you ask curiously

“Ehrm… well, we talked a lot after that mess in Sunken Town… She was really sad and needed someone to dump it all on, and I kind of was there, so we started talking about losing parents… And her story was out of this world. We talked all night, and then I was going to go back home and she wanted me to stay and one thing led to another and…”

“Oh” 

“It’s not like that! I mean… Ugh… Crap, I guess it is like that.?

“Sound like it is” 

“But then our PR’s got involved and they loved it. They wanted to make a whole story arch about it, and I was going to say no, but she asked me to do it? I mean she said we should do it, you know, to get headlines”

“So there’s nothing serious going on?”

“Ehrm…” he seems a bit confused by the question. “I don’t know? No? Yes? Maybe?”

“Hey, it’s ok. It’s just me asking” 

“Yeah, I know. Truth is, I’ve got no idea. Never met anyone who’s lost as much as her. The things she endured… And I’d like to help her but I’m not sure if she’s in the right place now.  I guess we’ll have to see where it goes? You know how these things go with other heroes…”

You nod as if you knew what he was talking about, which you don’t. 

“Now with thy dumpster fire love life out of the way… could you….”

“Could I what?”

“Remind me how did I fuck up so bad as to end up here?”

“You don’t remember?” 

“Nope.”

“Not even…?”

“Not a clue pal. Nada.” Crap. “I guess it had to do with the docks mess that Elyise talked about?” 

“It does. What’s the last thing you recall?” you ask

“I think we were at some sort of event, right?”

“... yeah, we were. Hauswald fundraiser for their new facility. Reaper hosted it...That’s when it all started going downhill. You seriously don’t remember a thing after that?”

“Hmm... I think some of it’s coming back… but it’s blurry... “ he goes silent.

“Alright, I’ll try to keep it short…”

“Why? You told me I’m not going anywhere”

“... you just... listen”

___________________________

Hauswald Foundation Charity fundraiser dinner.

 Dodge to the left to avoid the punch… flip away from the kick… 

One of them thinks he has the advantage and attempts to trip you, but you time your jump correctly, and he misses. THey’re all off balance… Now’s the time to take the offensive! 

Leaping forward onto your three attackers, you grapple them all in your arms, lifting them as they scream in surprise before you slam them forward with all your strength. 

Excellent, you tell yourself as the three kids fall off onto the bouncy castle, giggling as they try to stand up and jump. The other kids cheer at you. They really love your Sidestep persona. You’re tempted to jump in yourself, but you’ve been using the bouncy castle far too long and some of the parents are starting to give you side-eye. Stupid rules say the castle is just for kids… Oh well, better quit while you’re ahead.

“Good try, you almost got me there!” You say behind your mask. You didn’t know what to expect when Ricardo asked you to make an appearance with the Hauswald kids, but now all you want to do is keep playing with them. They had this playground built so the permanent residents could spend time with their kids until the new facilities are built.  It doesn’t help that chronologically speaking, you’re probably not too far apart from their current age. 

The thought makes you ponder on how would it have been to have a normal childhood like them and the whole experience suddenly becomes both sad and alien. You only wish you could have…-

“Wow. You’re amazing with kids! What other secrets do you have?” Anathema says interrupting your thoughts.

“I’m a genetically modified monster created in a lab as a weapon designed to pass as a human and take over the world,” you say because the truth is often the better lie. You wave your arms in front of you, walking slowly to Annie, as a monster would. 

“I knew it. You’re one of them eeeevil Snake-people!”

“Ha! We prefer the term Sneeple. We’re not anything like snakes!. We just happen to be poisonous” you grin under the mask. 

“Sneeple” the children laugh pointing at you.  

“Oh no! You’ve got me!” you cry out. “But I will not go down easily! Prepare to feel my poisonous bite Anathema!”

“I’ll defeat the Sneeple guys!” Anathema says doing a slow-motion mock-punch at you. 

You fake a suitable slow-motion fall, and they all laugh it up. 

“Good job,” Anathema says offering a hand

“Giving it a 101%” you chuckle as you take his hand and he lifts you up.

“You should have kids of your own one day man. You’d be great at it”

“Let’s go back into the ceremony,” you say quickly. “I think we made our appearance long enough already,” you’re ignoring his comment and hoping he won’t ever mention anything as scary and confusing as that ever again. 

“Can’t wait for the big awards to be over?” 

“That’s the plan, I’m not staying a second longer than I have to”

“Man you could really use some decent PR for a change, get some sort of message to your fans. There’s a magazine saying you’re secretly a Japanese ninja, coming out all the way from Kyoto in search of the murderer of your father. It’s nuts. You should get closer to the people and get a real story going...”

“Hell no, no one’s getting closer to me. Also, I happen to like that story. I think I’ll sprinkle some Japanese when I talk in public from now on...”

“Wait, you speak Japanese?!”

“Of course I do. Now If only I could find my father’s killer…”

“You asshole!” he snorts following you back inside.” 

___________________________

“And without further ado, we move on to the event of the night,” Reaper says holding the mic with his good hand. He’s in a wheelchair, still with a cast arm, but the combination of an impossibly expensive Tuxedo being worn by a talking skeleton oddly makes him both look distinguished and larger than life. In an eldritch kind of way that is. His mind’s different, there’s a fire in it that you didn’t notice before. Fire. Like the Hospital burning. It’s not really very surprising that he’d get a whole new passion for rebuilding what he loves. 

“We hand over the Hauswald awards to those who have contributed the most in our fight against the epidemic of death that threatens our great nation!” he announces. “The panel of judges has spoken,” he says motioning to a group of people sitting on a large table by the podium, famous all of them, reporters, politicians, artists, writers, and philosophers founding members of the Hauswald along with Reaper himself. While the founder is dead, Amanda Hauswald, his only daughter is right there too, a young blockbuster actress in her 20’s that’s set to play Elyise in her upcoming film. She rises from her chair, adjusting her gorgeous silver velvet gown and climbs to the stage, to pass several envelopes to Reaper.

Reaper thanks her, and prepares to announce the winners. 

“Are you going to eat at all?” Ortega asks beside you, wearing his own white suit.

“The mask stays on”

“You could just lift up the lower part a bit” Anathema comments from the other side.

“The mask stays on” you repeat.

“But these are amazing!!” he says motioning to his plate

“That’s why I brought this,” you say tapping a large piece of Tupperware full of everything you could gather from the reception up to this point.

“You didn’t just bring that to…” Ortega looks at you appalled “You can’t… you can’t do that at  events like this!”

“Just watch me,” you say defiantly. “The mask stays on, and I take my food-to-go” You’re sick of being starved every time you get dragged into something like this. The only compromise you made was letting Anathema add last-minute bowtie to your suit, which looks oddly fitting for the occasion.

“Unbelievable… fine... Just keep it out of sight, and if anyone asks, I don’t know you” Ortega says giving up. 

“I still think someone leaked,” Steel tells Sentinel, from the other end of the table.”

“With half the police being corrupt, it’s not that hard for the Loan Shark to get leaks about us coming to arrest him anyways” Sentinel shoots back. “Or are you saying that one of us gave the raid away on purpose?”

Steel looks at you briefly, before answering. 

“No, no I didn’t mean that… But perhaps if we kept the intel only to the inner team, we could avoid it all spreading and…”

“Let it go, it’s not against you” Annie whispers “He just angry and It could have been anyone. Like Sentinel said, half the police’s on Hollow Ground’s payroll.”

“I know… I just wish he’d trust me a bit at least” you whisper back. “I was the one who came with the ledgers in the first place”

“I’ll remind him”

“Don’t. Let it be, it’s ok” you say looking at the other tables. The raid to arrest Lewie was a bust, he had been tipped off and the office had been whipped clean. Not even a trace of the furniture and the walls had been repainted. And his safe was gone. 

Your attention derails towards Elyise. She’s watching Reaper’s delivery from another table along with her own crew, investigators, photographers, and publicists. After the events with Mother, she’s become the main torchbearer to the Hauswald, possibly overshadowing Reaper himself, and the public relationship with Charge shun even more light over her rising star. Reaper’s provided her every resource, both in her hero duties and with an endless media bombardment that’s working to get her ahead in the hero-game fast. She doesn’t seem thrilled about her life being used and exposed this way, but you can’t really blame Reaper. She’s the perfect poster-child to lead the fight against the madness of loose hero-drugs trough the country, and he knows it. 

Reaper goes to announce awards for artists, media representatives, film-makers, and others. Right after regular every-day hero award, he moves on to the main event of the night. 

The hero awards. 

The Hauswald offers one of the most coveted awards for those who care about that kind of thing. This is the main reason Ortega insisted you be here if the Rangers win, he wants you to share it with them if they win, and he somehow managed to verbally outmaneuver you into coming along. Truth is everyone expects Elyise to win this year, but Ortega’s still hoping for a new trophy. 

The man must control some form of witchcraft to get you agreeing to come to something like this. Or perhaps you’re finding it harder and harder to look for excuses to keep your distance from him. The thought makes you shiver under your suit.

He takes pause as he reads the contents of the last envelope.

“Oh boy… Really?” he says, a boney hand rubbing his face. He looks back at the judges as if to double-check. They all nod at him, and he turns back to the audience. “ Well, this is going to be controversial. Alright, Light up the contenders!” he asks the organizers. 

Ortega stands straight, as Steel frowns when the lights come upon your table. Something similar is happening to your left, where Captain Glory and the Phoenix Rangers are also getting ready in case they win. Elyise’s not on her table surprisingly. You can see her walking to the side, having what looks like a really nasty discussion over her phone. That’d odd… 

One of her team took her chair, waiting to receive the Award for her if she happens to win. 

It takes forever before Reaper finally speaks, probably trying to be theatrical. 

“I am proud to announce the winner of this year’s award of the Hauswald, an individual who’s done more than anyone else to stop the scourge of power drugs. Someone who took it up to themselves to fight back against the endless spiral of death the corporations bring upon our beloved West Coast…”

You can see Ortega’s fists clenching as he looks completely tense. Captain Glory seems just as tense when Aurora takes his left hand, startling him before he smiles at her. They’re such a darn cute couple… 

You end up staring at Ortega’s hand, so close to yours. You can’t stop thinking about how his suit fits him like a glove and how he looks so darn…

You force your gaze to look elsewhere as fast as you can. 

Elyise’s standing by the sidelines, her phone discussion seems worsening and she looks really mad now. There are some stray thoughts coming from her. Someone wants her to do something… and she won’t have it. You can feel her anger. She feels... Threatened by something… ?

“Sadly, the winner couldn’t join us here for the event, but If they are listening, we hope this serves as the recognition they deserve, even if some of us don’t personally condone their methods of fighting the drug epidemic...” he goes on, prompting confusion through the room. 

“... the winner goes by many names, but lately, media has settled on one, and it’s rather a grim one, but then again, I can’t seriously call anyone out on those grounds”

Laughs at the joke… and suspense.

“This hero has single-handedly stopped the largest rings of drug dealers throughout the city! Thanks to them, hero-drug deaths have gone to their lower point in a decade! The award goes to … 

You can see Ortega biting his lip, and CAptain Glory inching at the tip of his seat.

“...Catastrofiend!”

There is a brief moment of silence amongst the crowd before everyone starts voicing their minds. Elyise looks at the stage confused,  she’s clearly not been paying attention at all and trying to catch up. 

“You can’t award a murderer!!!” someone cries out. 

“Shut up, he cleaned up the corporation’s mess in less than a month!” someone counters. The voices start getting heated from there, with two defined sides forming very quickly around the new vigilante, booing and cheering going over one another.  

Captain Glory and his team stand up at unison and start making for the door. 

“We’re leaving too,” Ortega says standing up, as does Anathema realizing the party’s over.

___________________________________

Rangers HQ, infirmary, present time.

“WHAT?!” Ortega looks at you confused. “They gave the prize to that murderer?!” 

“You know that’s the exact thing you said  after we got through the door” 

“Was Reaper out of his mind?”

“Ehh.. he was kind of all fired up, but out of his mind? No. Besides, he didn’t decide, the Hauswald board did. They’ regularly keep tabs on the price of the drugs, and when you crunch the numbers, there’s no question about it, the Catastrofiend killings have really put them on the run. They had graphs to prove it, not that anyone was hearing. Hero Drugs are almost impossible to buy in Los Diablos right now.

“But Catastrofiend’s… massacring people on the streets…!”

“Well, you know what they think of dealers at the Hauswald, especially after the old facility got burned down. They’re not even people to them anymore. And it’s been on the media since… a lot of people in the police force are speaking about how the Catastrofiend’s helping their job more than the rangers or anyone else in fact. Even the governor flirted with the idea of a pardon”

“That’s insane… What do they expect us to do? Start shooting dealers on the streets now? That award should’ve been Elyise’s”

“Rumor is that was the idea, but the board changed it without telling Reaper… They didn’t want to be seen as just pandering to whomever he chose. And perhaps they’re seeing Catastrofiend as the new Reaper”

“Yeah, back when he wasn’t suitable for kids.”

“Yeah,” you say leaning back on your chair.

He takes a few moments to digest it before speaking again. 

“I guess there’s more to the story? Or did Captain Glory and I start a brawl at the exit and that got me decked here?”

“Oh no. Those… “ you say drawing a circle with your finger chest. “... those came later. We got a call right after the event.”

“What was it?”

“Anonymous caller reported there was a huge shootout ongoing at the docks. They gave enough details to match what we found on the Loan Shark’s ledgers.”

“They found him? That’s great, so he didn’t escape after all!” he says. “Wait… so the Loan Shark did this?” he asks looking at his chest again “Fucking Lewie...”

“Lewie didn’t do this.”

“What? Then who?”

“We weren’t the first to arrive...” 

“They tipped him off again?”

“Catastrofiend was already there when we arrived,” you say grimacing. 

He stays silent, your words sinking in slowly. 

“Go on,” he says in the end.

________________________

My fanfics: https://chaniters.tumblr.com/post/181692759294/my-fanfiction-for-fallen-hero

DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fan fiction using characters and the setting of the Fallen Hero: Rebirth and upcoming Fallen Hero: Retribution games written by Malin Riden. I do not claim ownership of any characters from the Fallen Hero wold. These stories are a work of my imagination, and I do not ascribe them to the official story canon. These works are intended for entertainment outside the official storyline owned by the author. I am not profiting financially from the creation of these stories, and thank the author for her wonderful game/s, without which these works would not exist.

[softboywriting]

Connecting | A Place To Call Home | Werewolf AU | Shawn Mendes

Summary: In which you are getting to know your pack and finding out Shawn is particularly soft on you. [fluff] [mention of bad parents] Takes place a short time after Shifted. Word Count: 2.5k

|Masterlist In Bio|

It's a Monday. Everyone is at work but not Jeremy, he didn't leave the house to work. You aren't sure what he does, but you know he's on the computer a lot and usually holed up in his room.

You're sitting in the living room when Jeremy comes out. He's in his pajamas, hair askew, looking little a rumpled. He spots you, and changes his destination to the couch.

“Hey, you doing alright?” He asks as he sinks into the couch beside you. “You look tired.”

“Yeah. I haven't been sleeping. Nightmares mostly.”

Jeremy nods, crossing his arms. “I remember when I had nightmares about my old pack. It was awful, Shawn had to stay up with me every night for weeks.”

“You had a bad pack too?”

He nods. “I was the runt. As you can tell by my short stocky stature, I don't fit in with most wolves. I matured when I was twenty and I thought maybe I'd grow more.” He chuckles. “I didn't. The bullying was endless, my family didn't know what to do. So I left.”

“How did you find Shawn?”

“Shawn was a friend of a friend. He's a few years older than me y'know. He was like a brother and when he and I were talking one night, he offered to let me stay with him. And here I am, still here.”

“What about Rosa and Em? We're they part of the pack already?”

Jeremy nods. “They made me feel so welcome, like I had a place in this world finally. No one ever called me runt or shorty here. They just treated me like a wolf.”

“That's amazing. I'm so happy for you.” You pull your knees up to your chest. It was good to know you weren't the only one with a fucked up past.

“I hope you feel just a welcome with us. I know you've been through a lot in the last few weeks, but I hope you know you're part of us.”

“Yeah, of course. I'm settling in just fine.”

Jeremy looks at you skeptically. You aren't sure why, it wasn't like you weren't settling in. You felt like part of the pack, sort of, no one but yourself had made you feel otherwise.

“What do you do?” You ask, hoping to change the subject. “Like your job, you don't ever leave?”

“I write books. Children's books actually. I work with a friend I met online who is a digital artist. We've published four books now and they're doing great.”

“That's amazing. Do you have copies?”

“Yeah!” Jeremy gets up and goes to his room. He returns quickly with two books in hand. “I just have two right now. Here is Luna and the Howlers and The Little Wolf Who Wanted To Be A Witch.”

You take the books and turn them over in your hands. They are darling. Both covers are hard back and the art is adorable, like a blocky paper mache style almost. “These are so cute. You wrote the stories?”

“Yes ma'am. You can read them if you're interested. I know there kids books and all but y'know...”

“I'd love to.” You smile up at him and grins. You really couldn't wait to read them. “Thank you for sitting and talking to me for a while. I haven't really been the most sociable and I know it.”

“Totally understandable. You'll open up when you're ready, believe me, no one is pressuring you here.” Jeremy reaches out and ruffles your hair awkwardly and you laugh. “It was good talking to you though. And just so you know, you can come talk to me any time if you have nightmares. I'm usually up late. Inspiration strikes at the most inopportune times.”

You smile softly and nod. “I'll keep it in mind.”

_____________

Midnight and you wake up, a nightmare again. This time they caught you. The alphas tearing you apart. You wake up just as soon as you feel claws sink into your back. You're covered in a cold sweat, tears wet on your cheeks. You remember Jeremy's offer, but you aren't sure if you want to talk to him yet. Usually you can handle the dreams on your own, but tonight was too real. Too painful.

You make your way to Shawn's bedroom, pushing the door open and slipping inside. He stirs immediately, sitting up as you walk over.

“Nightmare?”

“Yeah.”

“Come on,” he says, pulling back the blankets for you to join him.

You crawl in and he wraps his arm around you, tugging you against his chest. “Can we just talk a little before going to sleep?”

“Anything you like.”

“Where did you come from?”

Shawn hums, the noise reverberating through your back. “I was born here. My parents were part of a large pack that made up most of the town.”

“What happened? Why aren't you part of that pack now?”

“The alpha who took over when our alpha died was a purist. He was horrible, literally taking omegas from their families and detaining them. Most of them were never seen again. I couldn't deal with that. So when I matured I left, went out on my own under the guise of going to college out of state to become a lycanthropic medical specialist.”

You put your hand over his on your stomach and he threads his fingers with yours. “What about your parents? Did they agree with the purist?”

“No, they only stayed because they didn't have a choice. My sister was not yet matured and they didn't want to seem suspicious by up and leaving with no real reason. They didn't want to be hunted by the alpha and his allies for pack treason.”

“But they left anyway right?”

“Yes. My sister matured when she was nineteen and she was an omega. My parents signed the house over to me just as I graduated and they fled the country to live with my mom's parents in England. I never moved back here because I was afraid the alphas would come for me.”

“It's safe now though right?”

Shawn shifts around, putting his feet over yours and nosing your hair, making you sigh contently into his form. “The pack in this town left, went to yours.”

“What? You knew them? You know the pack that tried to kill me?”

“I didn't know until the night the alphas came. When I saw two of them, higher ups from when I was part of the pack before college. I knew they weren't just there for you. They had found out I was there, and they wanted me to rat out my parents for fleeing all those years ago. They're crazy, they just can't let anything go.”

You roll over to face Shawn. He lays his hand on your side and hums. “I lead them to you. I put the whole pack in danger. Shawn, why did you keep me there? Why didn't you just toss me out?”

“Pup, you know I couldn't do that.”

“Why not? I am just some omega you pulled out of a stream. I'm not anything special and I'm definitely not worth the lives if your pa-”

“Enough,” he says firmly and you fall silent. “We’re done talking. You need to sleep.”

“Okay,” you mumble, turning over.

He puts his arm around you and holds you against him once more. He presses his nose into your hair and chuffs a little, breath tickling your neck. He feels warm, like you remember him being before the move, before the attack, when you shared a bed with him at the old place for a little while. You try to relax, to let go of the tension of the conversation you just had. He flexes his fingers against your stomach, scratching softly through your sleep shirt. It's perfect. Just what you needed to relax and fall asleep, knowing he was there and he was going to keep you safe.

_____________

Morning finds you in the kitchen, the first rays of daylight streaming through the open blinds of the breakfast nook. You had woken up to Shawn's 5am alarm. Instead of sleeping more you decided to get up and have some breakfast while Shawn showered.

“Morning,” Rosa says as she walks into the kitchen in her running clothes. “You're up early?”

“Shawn's alarm woke me up.”

“Mmm,” she opens the fridge and grabs a few protein shakes. “Bad night again?”

“Nightmares. Really vivid and painful.” You stir your cereal around in your bowl. You didn't want to remember.

Rosa takes a seat opposite you. “You don't have to worry about that pack anymore. I promise we...we took care of it. That night-”

“Rosa,” Shawn says hastily as he walks in, fully dressed for work. A deep red button down and black slacks. His hair is a damp curly mess and he smells like warm vanilla and spice. Everything about him is amazing.

She looks to him and he raises his eyebrows. You know she is being warned, having almost told you about the night the alphas came. It's no surprise Shawn wants to keep that from you. You knew he kept you in the dark a lot, and for your own good. You had enough to deal with lately.

“I'll be home around one today.” Shawn says as he grabs a bottle of water and a few of the same protein shakes Rosa had. “I want you to practice shifting if you can.” He walks over to you and places a kiss on your head. “We'll train when I get home.”

“Okay,” you mumble, ducking your head a bit from the affection.

It's not until Shawn is gone that Rosa speaks up again. “He's taken with you. I'm glad, he used to be such a grumpy old man in a young alphas body. Well, grumpier than normal.”

“You think he likes me? I thought wolves were just normally this affectionate?”

“We are, but Shawn has always been picky. He is a certain kind of tender with you. You're lucky.”

You shrug. Sure you have a pack and you're safe now, but good things have to end sometime. You don't feel like you deserve a pack and an alpha's attention. That was too much. You don't know how much luck you have left, or how much you ever had.

“You are. Shawn is a good alpha, strong and smart. He's a Lycanthropic Medical Specialist for goodness sake. You've hit the lottery, literally.”

“It's not like that,” you wave Rosa off and go to dump your cereal remains in the trash. “Shawn is just soft on me because I'm new and he thinks I'm fragile.”

“Yeah sure. I know how it goes. But anyway, I'm off today for a teacher planning day if you want help trying to shift?”

You turn and look at her. She's a little bigger than you, definitely more muscled and a bit older, definitely more experienced. Rosa had never been anything but kind to you, and you're sure she could help you shift just as well as anyone else. You're just not sure if you want to take that step yet. Shifting was hard, you don't even know if you can do it when you're not under a great deal of stress. You aren't sure if she will understand.

“I think I'll work on it alone, but thanks,” you smile softly and Rosa nods.

_____________

Three hours later and you're no closer to shifting than you were before. It's not like you can just do it. Realistically, you probably can, but you can't tap into whatever it is that makes it work for you. It seems that it is fear that makes you shift and you hate that, you don't want to be afraid just to shift.

Rosa steps out into the yard where you're laying, staring up at the clouds. “Can I help now? I'll just give a pointer or two.”

“Sure, I'm definitely not figuring it out,” you chuckle, sitting up to look at her where she's taken a seat in front of you.

“When I learned to shift, I found that it was a feeling. It was like, a new emotion that I had never experienced before. For me it was something like the feeling of being free.”

“I've only been able to shift when I'm scared.”

Rosa looks over and raises her eyebrows. “Fear? That's a hard one.”

“Yeah.” You wrap your arms around your legs, leaning your chin on your knees. “I don't want to be scared to be a wolf.”

“Maybe we can find another way? Maybe if you try feeling something else super intensely.”

“I don't know...I think I need more time. Maybe shifting right now isn't what I need to do. Like...maybe I should deal with my nightmares and anxiety first.”

Rosa reaches over and takes your hand. “You can talk to me. I have a lot of students who have anxiety and talking through it helps sometimes.”

Your curl your fingers around Rosa's. Her hand is soft and very warm. “You teach gym class at the school in Crestwood right?”

“Yeah, and I coach the indoor volleyball team and also the field hockey team in the summer.”

You nod. “Well...I definitely think I'm taking on too much right now. I think there's been too much happening in my life for me to dedicate myself to learning how to be a wolf. I want to stop and just breathe for a bit but I don't want to let Shawn down.”

“Oh Pup. You really think he'll be disappointed?”

Tears sting your eyes and you bite them back. “He's so determined to show me I am just as much of a wolf as you guys. And I feel like if I don't try hard and be strong then I won't be able to stay, that I won't be good enough.”

Rosa sighs softly, rubbing her thumb over the back of your hand. “You should talk to Shawn. Let him know you need to slow down, that you're still coping with everything going on. I'm sure he will understand.”

“Yeah,” you mumble quietly. “Thanks by the way, y'know for listening and stuff.”

“Anytime. It's what packs are for. We're here for each other.”

“I've never felt like I was part of something.”

“What about your family? You've never mentioned them. You don't ever talk much but still, it's been almost three months you've been with us. I feel like we hardly know you.”

You shake your head. Your parents, your whole upbringing, was a touchy subject, something you didn't want to talk about. “I think I should go. Thank you again, I think I will talk to Shawn about slowing down. I'm...I'm going to go inside now.”

“Oh,” Rosa stands and puts her hands in her pockets. “I'm sorry if I upset you.”

“It's alright. I just...I'm not ready to talk about that yet.”

Rosa nods and you nod back before heading inside to rehearse what you would tell Shawn when he came home and wanted to train.

_____________

Thank you for reading and leaving me feedback for this series! Every comment and ask and message is encouragement that keeps me going. Thank you everyone who reblogs as well!

[shireness-says]

Swan’s Seven (2/?)

Summary: After two years behind bars, Emma’s out, and she’s got a plan in mind. Now to put together the perfect team… Let’s stage an art heist. (A CS Ocean’s 8 AU) ~3.9K. Rated T for language. Chapter 1.  Also on AO3.

~~~~~

A/N: And we’re back! With more players, more action, and more razzing on David. It’s a national sport after all. A certain someone shows up this chapter too...

Thanks as always to my wonderful beta, @snidgetsafan. This doesn’t happen without you, babe. 

Tags: @optomisticgirl, @spartanguard, @profdanglaisstuff, @captainsjedi, @thisonesatellite, @thejollyroger-writer, @let-it-raines, @teamhook, @kmomof4, @snowbellewells, @searchingwardrobes, @winterbaby89, @scientificapricot. Shoot me a message if you want to be added/taken off the list.

Enjoy, and let me know what you think!

~~~~~

Regina has always been good at finding the exact right person for any given job, and it seems that hasn’t changed in the two years that Emma has been away. She somehow knows everybody who’s anybody in this business, like the criminal version of a recruiter or HR lady. She’d probably hate being called that, but it’s an apt comparison. 

Only days after Emma divulges her plan to Regina, she’s presented with a short stack of manila folders - Regina’s top choices for their needs.

“I think you’ll be pleased,” she says as Emma flips through the top folder. It’s just a cursory glance, really; Emma trusts Regina’s judgement implicitly after all their years as a pair. “They’re the best I could find.”

“I’m sure they are,” Emma replies nonchalantly. “You’ve got them scheduled to come in for an interview or whatever?”

“Later today,” Regina agrees, before fixing Emma with a stern look. “You’re going to play nice, right? We need these people, I can’t have you getting all demanding or treating them like they’re idiots.”

“Ok, first of all, it’s an interview, there’s going to be questions so I can’t really help the demanding thing. Second of all, why the hell am I the one we’re worried about getting uppity? That’s kind of your thing, scaring people off with a condescending sniff.” Emma really hadn’t meant to sound quite so demanding with that list, but that’s the result anyways. Maybe Regina has a point - though Emma still thinks her partner is the one who needs the warning to “play nice”. Whatever that means. Fuck it all, they’re career conpersons, the nice line has already kind of been blown to smithereens. 

Regardless, the warning proves unnecessary, since Emma can tell within minutes that Regina’s first candidate is exactly who they’ve been looking for.

“Emma, this is Ruby Lucas. Ruby, Emma Swan.” With the way Regina makes introductions, you’d think they were having some fancy corporate business meeting, not planning an art heist above a nightclub. Emma has the strongest urge to start offering business cards. “Ruby’s a safecracker - the best on the east coast.”

“Well…” Ruby drawls, her red-painted lips twisting into something wry and just shy of wolfish. Emma thinks it kind of suits the brunette, especially paired with her casual sprawl across one of Regina’s stiff backed chairs. 

As much as Emma is amused, however, Regina is not. That eye roll could probably be seen from space. “Fine. The best on the east coast who hasn’t decided to retire to some disgusting fairytale in backwoods Maine like a goddamn schmuck. Better? Satisfied?”

“Better. Satisfied is a whole other thing, sweetcheeks,” Ruby winks salaciously. Not that there seems to be any heat behind it; if Emma had to guess, it’s just a flirtatious habit. There are worse habits to have, really. Her flirting accomplished, Ruby focuses her attention on Emma. “So. I hear you have a plan.”

“I do. Did Regina brief you on the specifics?”

Ruby nods. “Brantley 3900, she said. Digital fingerprint system on top of a trio of combo locks, plus an acid failsafe. I could use some info about the big picture plan, though.”

“We’ll get there,” Emma promises. Ruby isn’t at all what she would have expected of their safecracker in her short skirt and high heels and bright red hair streaks - especially when Emma’s used to dealing with her brother for this kind of thing - but she likes the saucy brunette. That flirtatious energy could really come in handy, if they play their cards right. “You think you can break it?”

“No problem,” Ruby replies with her bubbling confidence. “We’ll just need those prints, and the rest is all tumblers. Nothing I can’t handle.”

Emma looks to Regina, who inclines her head in a subtle nod. Excellent; they’re on the same page, then. “You’re hired.”

Their next candidate - a computer whiz and hacker - might as well be Ruby’s polar opposite. Elsa Frost shows up in a neat skirt suit and heels that only emphasize her pale skin and white blonde hair, dressed for all appearances like she’s interviewing at a law firm. For god’s sake, she even brings resumes in a file folder, the two pages paper clipped for maximum convenience. You can’t make this shit up. Emma wonders idly if their prospective keyboard artist has any idea what she’s walked into.

Surprisingly, reading the resume provided is illuminating. Ms. Frost certainly does know what she’s here for (“And this is an art theft, yes?”), but she cut her teeth, so to speak, in providing network security for major banks. Really, there’s no one better to hack past security systems than someone who made a career trying to prevent exactly that. 

Emma still has questions, however. Namely: “How exactly did you end up on the less legal side of things?” It’s more than a valid question, considering the formal interview attire. It seems that Elsa doesn’t know how these things usually play out. 

“I have a sister,” Elsa explains. “She’s the only family I have in the world, and she just got engaged. To a Central Park carriage driver. Wants the whole big to-do, which of course is very expensive. You know, the big white dress and the massive cake and the three courses and the specialty cocktail. So I’ve been looking into… alternative income streams.”

“Admirable,” Regina drawls, clearly unimpressed. “But there are plenty of other ways to make money. Legal ones. I’m sure you could make a very generous living just off of consulting with your skills. Why this?”

Elsa flushes, the rush of blood especially evident beneath her pale skin. Still, Regina and Emma wait in silence. They don’t need someone on their team who’s a risk, and that kind of motive makes any con with common sense worry their contact will go to the police when all is said and done. So they’ll wait, as long as it takes Elsa to come up with a real answer or prove herself too much of a risk to gamble on.

She cracks, of course. Facing down two such intimidating stares, anyone would. “Maybe I was bored,” Elsa finally says. Her chin lifts with the words like she’s trying to muster all her dignity - not that it works. “I’d done security for Wall Street firms and major banks for years. Eventually, you tire of trying to close all the loopholes that hackers are testing. Your entire career and your entire life becomes reactionary. Working on the other side… I get to exercise a little more creativity and problem solving and thinking outside the box, which is why I fell in love with programming in the first place.”

Emma makes eye contact with Regina and shrugs. “Works for me.”

Elsa stares back, disbelieving. “That’s it? That’s what you needed to hear?”

“We get boredom,” Emma explains.

“And we absolutely understand thinking the criminal side is a little more fun,” Regina adds. Like she knows anything about fun. 

(Ok, that’s not fully true; Emma half remembers a few tequila nights. Regina gets rowdy when she has enough to drink.)

“Where we’re going with this,” Emma finishes, “is that you’re in if you want it. I trust that after all that banking experience, you can work your way around their firewalls and whatnot?”

“Sure can. Check the bar’s accounts if you don’t believe me, I took the liberty of going ahead and transferring my $100 consultation fee.”

Well, that’s one way to prove your point.

“So that’s two down. Who’s next?” Emma asks after Elsa and her business suit depart.

Regina smirks. “Field trip.”

The field trip is to the Metropolitan Museum of Art, where they watch a young woman paint a replica of one of the portraits - a particularly unflattering source work featuring a distinctly masculine-looking woman. It makes the reproduction their prospective partner is working on all the more impressive, that she’s able to replicate that particular variety of unfortunate realism. 

“Belle French,” Regina explains under her breath. “She should be a rising young artist on the New York scene after graduating from Columbia, but tastes these days run a little more abstract and her style probably leans closest to the romantic or rococo. Instead, she’s stuck teaching intro level courses at a local community college.”

“What a waste.”

“Indeed. She’s absolutely broke and absolutely talented, and absolutely desperate. Teaching shitty freshmen who can’t draw a straight line and want to argue about their grades constantly does things to a person, or so I’d imagine. If we play our cards right, make the right approach…”

“She could be our girl.” Our forger, Emma means, but that’s a stupid thing to say out loud in an art museum.

“She could.”

Emma observes for just a moment longer before nodding decisively and making her move. She’s the one who’s got tact, after all; as good as Regina is about searching people out, she’s a little too blunt for this kind of negotiation.

“That looks beautiful,” Emma comments when she’s standing just behind Belle’s shoulder. “You’re very talented.”

“Thank you!” Where Elsa blushes, Belle beams. Here, it’s a sign of someone who’s been denied warranted validation for too long, and who’s looking to gobble it up even from unusual sources. It’s a good sign for their purpose; even if they’re cons, Emma and Regina can provide the validation she seems to be craving. 

“Is this just a hobby, or do you do this for a living?” Emma knows the answer, of course, but that might as well be rule number one of running a con: never show all your cards.

Belle makes a little wistful, frustrated noise. “Oh, I wish. This is just my free time, unfortunately. Hopefully it will help me hone my skills.”

“I don’t know. From where I’m standing, you look pretty skilled already. If this is your dream, I don’t think the talent issue is what’s keeping you from reaching it.”

“Yes, well, my dreams also feature millions of dollars and a functional love life. Some things, unfortunately, just aren’t going to happen, and I’m afraid this might be one of them.”

“I think I can help with some of that, at least,” Emma smiles. “I’d love to take you to coffee, maybe discuss it a little.”

“Like a job? Painting?” Belle’s skepticism is plastered all over her face. Not that Emma can blame her; it probably sounds just a little too good to be true.

“Something like that.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“I absolutely am, if you’re interested in learning more.”

It’s a close thing, Emma thinks, but Belle does show up in the back corner of Regina’s favorite little Italian bakery an hour later.

“Why do I get the feeling this isn’t exactly a legal opportunity that you want to talk about?” Belle asks right away. Still, she seems utterly unfazed by the idea of it as she calmly sips a cappuccino. 

“Probably because it isn’t,” Emma replies, equally calm.

“Hypothetically,” Regina makes sure to add. Maybe that’s what she should have been in another life - a lawyer for the mob. Not that it matters, especially since Emma changes her mind every other time Regina opens her mouth. 

“Hypothetically,” Emma makes sure to emphasize, “we’re planning a job that would require someone with top notch artistic skills.”

“And you think that someone is me.”

“Hypothetically, yes,” Regina agrees. 

“But why me?” Belle argues. “I’m barely good enough to teach a bunch of college students. What makes you think that I’m skilled enough for whatever you have in mind - hypothetically have in mind?”

“Your style, ironically the very thing that’s really kept you from breaking into the art world, is exactly what we need for our purposes.” Somehow, Regina manages to make it all sound completely reasonable, though Emma knows it’s not. They’re talking about forgery and theft, for Christ’s sake. 

“And if I say no?”

“Then this conversation never happened,” Emma replies easily. “Look, my partner may be a little over-enthusiastic with the hypotheticallys, but it means we haven’t actually been planning anything in a way that you could take to the police. Look, I’ll be level with you - we can probably find another artist if need be. They’re out there. But they’re not you, Ms. French, and when we say we want the best, that’s you. For better or worse. The payout - sorry, the hypothetical payout would be more than enough to set you up. No more teaching brats with an attitude. We can help your originals find a way to market - legitimate or otherwise. There’s a lot of doors you can open with the kind of money we’re talking about.”

“Think about it and let us know.” Regina slides a card across the table - blank except for a starkly printed phone number. A burner, obviously, and perfect for what they have in mind. “You’re just the woman we need, and I think we’re just the opportunity you need.”

Emma and Regina barely make it to the end of the next block before the phone buzzes. 

I’m in.

Two pieces to go.

It’s a relatively short cab ride to Battery Park, where Regina says they’ll find their next crew member. “This is the pickpocket?” Emma asks as they stroll past a particularly fragrant food cart. Ah, New York. 

“This is the pickpocket,” Regina echoes back. “Tink Green. Young, but talented. She could easily break into larger jobs if she had the inclination, though I’m not sure that she does.”

“Tink? Seriously?”

“I know.” Regina rolls her eyes. “But yes, seriously. No idea what her real name is, she refuses to tell. If you have to have a stupid nickname, though, might as well make it a bad fairy fingers pun.”

“Yeah, I suppose.” A crowd is gathered up ahead along the railings bordering the river. “So where is she?”

“You see the blonde weaving through the crowd?” Regina asks, nodding in a general direction. “With the bun and the scarf and the headphones?”

“Yeah?” The woman in question looks utterly distracted - just another twenty-something absorbed in her phone.

“Watch.”

It looks like any other passing interaction - a distracted pedestrian not watching where they’re going, despite passerbys’ attempts to step around her. However, Emma’s a thief. She can spot the way that when the blonde bumps into an unsuspecting businessman, only the hand holding her phone comes up to brace on his torso, while the other steals into his coat pocket.

“Smooth,” she mutters. “I wonder if that’s all she’s got.”

Regina smiles  a wicked, amused smile. “Let’s go find out, shall we?”

“Just make sure you don’t have anything valuable in your pockets.”

With the leisurely pace Tink saunters along at - just the right speed to feign distraction and avoid any serious attention - it’s easy for Emma and Regina to catch up along either side. “Impressive show,” Emma comments casually.

She’ll give the pickpocket this - she’s a good faker. Emma only sees the momentary flash of recognition tinged with panic because she’s looking for it. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she replies. Tink’s accent is unusual; Australian, maybe, or possibly New Zealander. 

“That lift,” Emma continues. “Very well done. Practically seamless.”

“Again, I don’t know what you’re talking about. I think you’ve got the wrong person. Now if you’ll excuse me…” Tink’s eyes flit briefly to either side, looking for an easy escape like any good con.

“Oh relax,” Regina cuts in with that exasperated drawl she’s perfected. “We’re not here to bust you. We’ve actually got a job. Think of this as your interview.”

“You’ve lost me.”

“Regina Mills. This is my partner, Emma Swan.” Tink straightens, almost imperceptibly. “Ah, so you know who we are.”

“Run with a certain crowd, and it’d be hard not to.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Emma replies. “Like Regina said, we’ve got a job. Need someone with light fingers. A little teamwork and big payout.”

“How big?”

“Big enough not to say in such a public place.” Regina produces another card. “If you’d like to know more, come by the Poison Apple the day after tomorrow, around 2pm. We’ll share all the details with the team then. That is, if you’re interested.”

“I might be,” Tink hazards.

“Anything holding you back?” Emma asks. It’s obvious Tink is the woman for the job - talented and just charming enough for a little undercover prep work if need be. If there’s anything they can say to get her on board right now, Emma will gladly do it.

“Who’s the mark?”

Not the question she’d anticipated, but Emma can roll with it. “Zelena West.”

Unexpectedly, the other blonde bursts into a peal of laughter. “That piece of work?”

“The very same,” Regina replies with a wry smile.

“In that case, count me in. About time that bitch got what’s coming to her.”

Who knew it could be so easy - uniting a group of people around hatred of one disgustingly rich woman?

——— 

The last thing Emma expects to see when she and Regina finally make it back to the loft about the nightclub is a man already waiting outside the door, rocking back and forth on his heels with both hands shoved into the pockets of his leather jacket. As Regina wrangles the lock, the man springs to attention. “Ms. Mills?”

“Yes, yes, come in.” She’s obviously expecting him, as she holds the door wide open for the man to walk through, though her face never changes from mild irritation. Typical Regina. Though Emma can’t imagine why she’s letting him in to start with. 

“This one of your vendors, Regina?” she asks, closing the door. The man has come to stand in the middle of the room, looking around like he’s waiting for something.

Regina scoffs. “Don’t be ridiculous, Emma, the bar’s vendors come on Monday. This is our fence.”

Emma isn’t entirely sure what face she’s making, but it’s certainly not good. “Him?” she asks needlessly, earning herself an eye roll.

“No, the other man standing in the corner. Yes, him. This is Killian Jones.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Emma,” he says - warmly enough, she’ll grant - extending a hand to shake. 

Unfortunately for him, Emma’s not in a mood for warmly enough. “We are not on a first name basis,” she all but snaps before quickly pivoting to address Regina. “Can I talk with you for a moment?”

“What is your problem, Emma?” Regina hisses once they’re a reasonable distance away. Not that they’ve found true privacy; that doesn’t exactly exist in the loft space.

“He’s a he!” she hisses back.

“How didn’t you know that? I gave you the file.”

“It’s not like I read in-depth or anything! You always give me a little rundown anyways. I saw the name and figured they were a her, not a… him.” The last word is practically spat out like a curse. Absolutely melodramatic, not that Emma cares.

“And is that a problem? It’s not like you told me you wanted only women.”

“Yeah, well, I thought I wouldn’t have to when everyone else you offered up was of the female persuasion. Isn’t there anyone else?”

“No. You want the best, I find you the best. That man can find or sell practically anything, like a modern day pirate. Or something less stupid.”

Emma ignores Regina’s denial. “What about Jasmine? She’s great, she’d be good for this.”

Regina shakes her head. “She and Al just had a baby, so she’s out of the game for a while.”

“I guess I can get that. You send something?”

“Gift cards for take out and a card signed with both our names.”

“Oh, thanks for that. What about Kathryn?”

“Went to prison last year. And you hate her anyways after she flirted with your brother.”

“It’s more because she’s a prissy little rich girl who got into the black market because she thought it’d be fun.”

“No, it’s because she was hitting on David. I very narrowly escaped attending a debutante ball, if you remember, so I’m technically one of those prissy little rich girls,” Regina points out.

“Yeah, but I like you,” Emma sighs. “Bet her daddy bribed someone to get her sentence reduced.”

“Oh, undoubtedly. Still doesn’t change the fact that she’s unavailable.”

“What about —” Emma starts, only to be interrupted.

“Look, I’ll go find you someone else if you insist, someone female,” Regina argues, “but they’re not going to be as good as him. There’s no one else out there who’s got the amount of connections in the black market art world that he does, and he’s got strong footholds in advanced tech to boot. Just what we need. So are you going to quit your tantrum and suck it up, or am I going to have to put out feelers again?” She waits for an answer with arms crossed - never an inviting look.

“Fine,” Emma finally grumbles. “But he’s got a lot of ground to make up.”

“Yeah, and I’m sure you won’t let him forget it,” Regina mutters back under her breath.

Jones does them all the favor of pretending he didn’t hear any of that conversation when the women rejoin him. “Swan, is it?” he asks, extending that hand again. Today, Emma really feels like the last human on Earth who doesn’t feel a pressing need to follow that particular societal convention.

“That’s me,” Emma replies with as much enthusiasm as she can muster. It’s not much. “Regina says you’re the best around.”

“In more ways than one,” he winks. Mistake.

“Let’s get something straight right now: this flirting, or whatever you’re hoping to pull off? It’s not going to work on me,” Emma replies with venom hiding just behind her voice. “We’re here to stage a heist, and all I care about are results. This is about the job, and if you can’t keep it professional, then you can walk back out the door right now and we’ll find someone else.” 

They stare at each other for a moment, Emma hoping to establish her dominance right there and then, before Jones finally cracks a closed-mouthed smile and nods. “Won’t be a problem, Swan. I’m at your disposal.”

“Good. We’ll see you in two days for a full overview of the plan and to get this show on the road.”

“As you wish,” he declares, sketching a short bow. After a last nod to Regina, he leaves again, now a problem for another day.

“I still don’t like him,” Emma declares to Regina. The other woman is smiling like the cat who got the canary, and Emma hates it.

“You don’t have to,” the other woman replies, “but he’s going to make this work. You’d be an idiot to fight against that.”

“All I’m saying is he better be as good as you promise.” There’s something about Killian Jones that makes her nervous, something she can’t quite put her finger on. Not his skills; Emma trusts Regina on that front. Something about his attitude, or his confidence. That’s not important right now, though, when there’s plans to make and details to nail down. 

Killian Jones may be an unknown variable, but he’s one she can’t deny they need - and for the moment, that’s more important than any of her concerns. 

[1-1snailxd-art]

Libraries are for Meetings

Master List —– Chapter 6

Chapter 7 - Don’t feed the librarian

Warnings: nightmares (death, assault, guns, fire), homophobia, negative thoughts, fighting/assault, swearing

Summary:  After nightmares keep Logan awake at night, he finally admits that he has been deceiving himself about the effects of the approaching anniversary. It's time to admit some things and find a friend. Turns out those golden arches offer more than just fast food.

Note: reading on mobile can remove the paragraphing sometimes. Use desktop site or visit my Ao3 page if it bothers you as much as it bothers me.

________________________

Beginning Note: Art by @the-pastel-peach has been added to this chapter. Pass on your appreciation to them. Please don’t repost the art anywhere (with or without credit). If you want to share the art, reblog this post OR the masterlist (which has the art in the header) If Peach posts the art on her personal Tumblr, I’ll add the link here as well. Respect the artist and respect their work 💜🐌

________________________

 Logan woke up with a gasp. His whole body ached as he sat up from his desk, a sticky note inhibiting the vision of his left eye. Removing his glasses and uncharacteristically throwing them down on his desk, Logan leant back and groaned loudly. He couldn’t hide it now; he was slipping and even burying himself in his work wasn’t stopping his mind from wandering into dark territory.

 That night his thoughts had been haunted with dark images of all those he held dear; Patton, Roman, Katie, Ellie…and Virgil. Logan found it unbearable that no matter what he did, the moment he closed his eyes he saw them die. Patton and Roman being beaten by faceless assailants. Katie being crushed by shelves of books or held at gun point. Jason’s burning figure pulling a screaming Ellie back into a burning building. And then there was Virgil… Logan didn’t understand why in every nightmare he had; Virgil was there. Standing next to Logan, trembling in fear, tears streaming from his eyes, and Logan couldn’t do anything. He couldn’t save his friends. He was always rooted right next to Virgil. Nothing but a useless onlooker.

 Stiffly rising from his desk, Logan headed to the bathroom and was shocked by the tired man that was staring back at him. Silent tears slipped from his eyes and he saw nothing had changed. He hadn't grown at all over the past two years. He looked just as broken as he had the days following Jason’s death. He didn’t like it, and he knew he had to do something before he got any worse.

********************

  Virgil safely pocketed $20 as he left the main university library; thankful he had found one poor soul with a computer issue. It was a simple virus, nothing but a tiny gnat that Virgil could easily clean off. He felt bad even charging the dude for it, but he needed the money. Happy to have a few extra digits to his name, Virgil quickly transferred the extra $5 to Ben. He was back to $30 and breathing felt a little easier.

 As if on cue, his stomach growled loudly; begging for anything other than instant noodles. He could still taste the meal he had had with Logan the other night and wished he could go back in time and experience it again. Virgil did his best to ignore the feeling, but when those Golden Arches came into view, he couldn’t stop his mouth from watering. 

 That was how Virgil found himself walking into the McDonalds and being greeted by a very excited Patton.

“Virgil! Oh, my goodness, it’s great to see you again.”

“Um, hi, Patton.”

Virgil felt the crushing weight of every patrons’ eyes as Patton’s loud outburst attracted their attention. He silently wished he could just vanish and suppressed the urge to run right back out the door.

“So, what can I get for ya?”

Patton lent against the counter and Virgil found himself lost for words for a moment  as he focused only on Patton’s comforting face. Suddenly aware that he was starring, Virgil shook his head and reached into his pocket.

“Oh, um, yeah.” He had to take a breath to steady himself before continuing. “I don’t really know what I want and I’m on a bit of a tight budget. Got any suggestions for what I could get for $3?”

“I’ve got you covered, Kiddo.” Virgil didn’t think it was possible for Patton’s smile to get any bigger as he exchanged the money. “Leave it to me.”

 Virgil distracted himself by reading a promotional sign while the other man worked, ignoring the growing sense of starring eyes the longer he stood alone. Patton quickly returned holding a bag that looked a lot fuller than it should have for $3.

“Here ya go, Virgil.”

“That cannot be mine.” He raised an eyebrow as Patton’s expression refused to falter. “I only gave you $3, and that looks like a lot.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Patton pushed the bag into Virgil’s confused arms. “I owed you, and now we’re even.”

“Owe me? You didn’t owe me anything.”

“For Logan’s computer silly,” despite the smile still on their face, Virgil saw sadness flash in his eyes. “You saved my life that day, and an act like that can’t go unrewarded.”

“I didn’t do anything special. Not really.” He averted his eyes, feeling his cheeks starting to warm in Patton’s presence.

“Well, it was special enough for me. And Virgil,” at his name, Virgil looked back into Patton’s eyes. “If you ever need anything, all you have to do is ask. Okay?”

“I’ll keep that in mind. Thanks, Patton.” As he started to back away from the counter, mystery bag of goodies in hand, Virgil gave the other an assuring smile and wave. “See ya.”

“Have a great day, Virgil.”

Waiting until he had left the store, Virgil peaked into the bag of goodies. His senses were immediately overwhelmed as he took in the fries, nuggets and a warm cookie.

 Any guilt Virgil had for taking the extra food, vanished the moment he was back in his library office, eating the treats he was given. He still couldn’t comprehend why these strangers were so giving. None of his friends of the past ever treated him like this, and it didn’t make sense that any of these people would care so much. It had been odd enough to have Katie be so friendly towards him, but now he suddenly had both Logan and Patton practically feeding him. If Roman walked in and started being kind, Virgil was going to scream.

  ********************

  Logan was thankful to see Maggie arrive on the back of her girlfriend’s motorcycle. It had been a surprisingly busy morning at the store and the hour he had to work solo was exhausting. Usually, Logan would have hung around and helped Maggie until someone else arrived, but today he needed to get away.

 “Hey, Lo, where’s the fire?” Maggie called as Logan practically ran for the door.

Swallowing the bile that rose in his throat at the mention of fire, Logan called back, “Sorry, Maggie, I can’t stay! I will see you next week.”

He slipped passed the two families entering before Maggie could begin to guilt him into staying. He had one location in mind, and it wasn’t the labs. Golden Arches loomed over the horizon, Logan’s pace increased, and he glanced at his watch to confirm that his timing was going to be just right.

   Patton stepped out of the restaurant’s back door, already feeling tired and having the second half of his shift to look forward to. He took a moment to close his eyes and just breathe, when heard someone rapidly approaching. Logan appeared around the corner just as Patton opened his eyes and his tiredness instantly melted away.

“Logan,” Patton did well to hold back his excitement and keep calm. “What brings you here?”

As his friend approached, Patton’s excitement turned to worry as he took in their exhausted features.

“Logan? What’s wrong?”

Logan paused just in front of Patton and tucked his shaking hands behind his back.

“Patton, I have come to apologise.”

“Apologi-“ Logan raised a hand and he paused, recognising that Logan just needed a moment to speak.

“My reaction was excessive, and I blamed you for my feelings, but that was unfair…”

 Logan lowered his head in shame. Admitting feelings to himself was hard but saying them out loud to Patton was even harder.

“In truth… I jumped at the opportunity to be alone. I thought that if I was alone, it would make everything easier. That being away from your emotional influence would reduce the pain I was feeling. But I was wrong.” Logan finally looked up; eyes red from holding back tears. “Being away from you made it worse and I don’t know what to do with… everything I am feeling. I just-just…”

Patton placed a hand on his shoulder and gave it an affirming squeeze. “I understand, Logan. I feel lost and confused too. Well, more so than usual.”

Logan let out a small laugh and Patton moved to grab his hands and hold them in the space between them.

“I know you don’t like to show it much, Lo, but it is ok to be sad.” Patton used his thumbs to make slow massaging circles on the top of Logan’s hands. “I’m not one to shy away from it, and I will admit I’ve been feeling more guilty than usual.”

“Patton, I already forgave you for the lapto-“

“I’m talking about Jason, Lo.”

 Logan’s breath caught in his throat as tears threatened to escape from his eyes.

“Patton…” his voice cracked, and he had to clear his throat before continuing. “You know I have never, and will never, blame you for Jason’s passing. You were not to blame.”

Patton took in a shaky breath. “Neither were you.”

Logan had to glance up and away to hold the tears at bay. “Okay… okay, Patton. I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Hey, Logan, “ Logan looked back into Patton’s eyes. “I love you.”

 Logan rolled his eyes and pulled the other man into a tight hug. They both squeezed their eyes as tight as their arms squeezed their bodies. Only a few tears fell, and they did well to remain composed in the public setting. The sound of the door opening, had them quickly separating from their embrace.

 “Woah, Patton, did the kingdom fall or are you cheating on the prince with your roommate?”

The pair turned to face the McDonald’s employee that had just exited the building; a look of disgust could not be hidden from Logan’s face.

“Gavin,” Patton gasped, “I would never cheat on Roman. Why would you think that?”

Gavin gestured towards the pair, “I mean, you were just making out.”

“We were hugging,” Logan corrected, a hint of annoyance in his voice. "I assure you that Patton and I have a purely platonic relationship."

"Sorry,” the mockery of Gavin’s tone ignited a flame of anger in Logan’s gut.  “I guess I just assumed because you are both-"

"Just because Patton and I both identify outside of what is considered heteronormative, does not mean we are in a physical relationship of any kind.” There was no stopping Logan now as he moved a step closer to Patton’s co-worker. “To judge us as such is akin to me assuming you are in a relationship with all of your friends of the opposite gender. Now, I must ask, would you appreciate those assumptions on my part?"

"No."

"I thought so, and I would appreciate it if you would never make an assumption like that again.”

"Alright." Gavin hurriedly continued on his way, desperate to escape Logan's disapproving gaze.

Patton put an arm around Logan's waist, resting his head on their shoulder. "You sure set him straight in a hurry."

"Indeed. Though we shouldn't make assumptions about one’s sexuality." Patton giggled and Logan put his arm around their waist as they made their way down the path. "To the bakery for your lunch break?"

Nodding, the two headed on their way; both thankful to be back in the others company.

  ********************

  Virgil jumped out of his chair, punching the air with his fist and whooping as he completed a level on his refurbished gaming system. The controller worked perfectly and the machine itself was a little slow on start-up, but otherwise ran smoothly. Looking at the time, his emotions went wild - 4:30. If he packed up and ran, he could make it to Pete’s Pawn Shop and get paid for his work; or…

Leaving his desk as it was, Virgil locked the office and found himself briskly walking to the track field.

 He felt rather out of place in his jeans and jacket as people clad in workout gear passed him. It was almost enough to make him want to turn around and forget about finding Logan, but clearly the universe had other ideas. Virgil almost didn’t recognise him without his glasses or formal attire; replaced with running gear that was fitted, but not overly tight. It was mesmerising to watch them make their way around the track.  

  He looks really good.

 Virgil almost slapped himself at the thought. That forbidden feeling of wanting to be around him, to talk to him, to just be happy.

  “…It’s disgusting...” … “…unnatural…” … “fucking faggots. All of em…” … “…they all deserve to die.”

 Fingernails dug into skin as Virgil clenched his fist to try and dispel the thoughts and memories that swirled through his mind. Mind preoccupied, he didn’t realise he had made his way almost to the finish line just as Logan slowed; tapping his smartwatch to mark the end of his run as he walked to stretch and cool down.  

Without his glasses, Logan couldn’t make out features well and despite walking towards him, they didn’t recognise Virgil until they spoke.

“Hey, Logan.”

“Virgil? What -r you doin- here?”

“Katie said you would be here, and I have your saved files.” Virgil followed as Logan headed towards his bag to retrieve his glasses.  “Sorry it took so long.”

“What? It’s only Thursday.” Logan looked up in confusion, thankful for his clear sight back to take in the others clearly anxious form. “In my opinion, that is a rather rapid turnaround.”

“Yeah-well-um… Jeez, Patton must be pretty fast.” Logan raised is eyebrow at the comment. “I mean, if you are doing this regularly and Patton beat you to the library the other day.”

“Oh, well, yes. Patton is superior in speed across longer distances.”

Virgil glanced around anxiously, not knowing what else to say, before he suddenly realised, he hadn’t actually given Logan his USB yet. Pulling the item from his jean pocket, he thrust it towards the other.

“Well, here’s the USB with all the files I could salvage. I should probably let you get back to your, um, running.”

“Virgil?” He paused and looked back at Logan as they pulled a sweatshirt over their head. “I am sorry for being too forward the other night. I shouldn’t have made those assumptions about you.”

“Nah, you’re fine, Logan. I just…” Virgil caught himself, not understanding why he suddenly had the urge to tell Logan everything. “I don’t need any help right now.”

“Understood.” Nodding, Logan picked up his bag and pulled it over his shoulder. “I did enjoy our time together, though. Despite how it ended.”

“I did too.” The words left his mouth before Virgil had any time to properly consider them. It felt right and wrong all at once.

“Would you…” Virgil looked up as the other man appeared almost nervous. “Would you mind if I walked back to the library with you?”

"Not at all." A smile spread across his face as he saw Logan's shoulders relax and they set to walk side by side towards the library. "Are you going to see Katie?"

"That is one reason, yes."

  The pair walked at a casual pace, neither too eager to reach the library.

"Can I ask you a question?" "Proceed."

"Can you tell me more about Jason?" Logan looked at Virgil in confusion. "You-you said he helped you. I-I was just - um - interested to learn more about him."

"I wouldn't even know where to start. We had 6 years together before he passed away; he was my friend, my partner and invited Patton and I to be part of his family with Katie and Roman."

"Wait," Virgil grabbed at Logan's arm to stop him for a moment, "Jason is Jason Reels?"

"Yes. Sorry, I should have made that clear."

 The realisation dawned across Virgil's face as he recalled the photo at the main desk and the obituary clipping of the young man that 'lost his life while saving others from a house fire.' Katie kept them right next to her computer, but Virgil had never asked about them before.

"I've seen his photo in the library, but I didn't know much about him."

"He was... The one who saved me." Logan started to walk again, and Virgil followed; mind reeling over how deep the small group were connected.

"I still find it hard to believe that someone like you ever needed saving."

"You'd be surprised, Virgil." He gave the other a sideways glance and smiled. "Like I've said before, people can be cruel, and Jason tumbled into my life right when I needed him. You know that game we played the other night?" Virgil nodded and felt his cheeks heat at the memory. "Well, Jason and I did the same thing; though we were in a cell at the time."

"You? You were in a prison cell?" Virgil looked sceptical; not believing that someone like Logan would even know what the inside of a cell looked like. 

"A holding cell is a more accurate description. You sound surprised, though. Do I not come across as someone you would find in a cell?"

"Honestly, no. I mean...That science outfit of yours doesn't scream badass or anything."

"I am going to ignore that language, but I can't ignore that comment. You have wounded me, Virgil."

Logan grasped at his chest as if he had been shot and smiled at the other man.

"Geeze dude, I never knew you were such a drama queen." "I have been working on my sarcasm to combat Roman's outbursts. How did I do?" "Certainly had me fooled." Virgil stumbled slightly as Logan gave his shoulder a playful shove, "Alright, sorry. Back on topic. Can you tell me how you and Jason actually met?"   

 The streets seemed to melt away as Logan recalled the event that started his and Jason's friendship. Their pace slowing to avoid reaching their destination as Logan spoke, and Virgil gained a better understanding of the man he couldn’t get out of his head.

(art by @the-pastel-peach - Please don’t repost) 

.

.

.

The sun was just beginning to set as Logan jogged down the street, making his way back to Patton's house. He knew Mr and Mrs Smiles were away for the weekend and that would mean alone time with Patton; which he had been actively avoiding all semester. It wasn't that Logan didn't love and appreciate Patton, but his constant apologising for coming out so publicly was overwhelming. The rumours surrounding the pairs relationship had only fuelled a flame that began burning years prior; he would never blame his friends coming out alone on his parent’s disownment of him.

 The process of moving into the Smiles household was very quick; attributed mostly to Logan's lack of material objects and modest wardrobe. Though the transition was simple, people still talked, and the move had only ignited the gossip circle surrounding Logan and Patton's relationship. Logan tried to act indifferent as people started making assumptions on his sexuality and his girlfriend, Jade, was supportive for a time; but eventually Logan had to let her go. It wasn't fair for her reputation to be tarnished as well. He thought it was the right choice; the safe choice. He was wrong. Jade was the final force protecting him and letting her go made him even more of a target now for 'faking' his love for her.

 Rounding a corner, Logan slowed outside of the local library to catch his breath. He took no notice of the people around him as he filled his bottle at the drinking fountain out the front; evening traffic was nothing unusual.

"What are you doing out and about, Mars?"

Even off the track, Logan didn't wear his glasses when he was running, and so he was forced to struggle to make out the detailed faces of the group that approached him. Using hearing and the general outlines, Logan took a guess that it was Jade's older brother and his friends.

"I thought it would be fairly obvious that I was jogging, though I know you do not partake in that form of physical activity."

"Funny." Is that Karter?

"Regular comedian we've got here, Karter." A female voice.

"Hilarious." another male.

 Logan was able to distinguish the group a little better now. Karter was Jade's brother; the female voice would be his girlfriend Hannah and that meant the other was most likely his friend Ray.

"Pleasure to see you all," Logan remarked as he took a long drink from his water bottle. "Though I must be going."

As he went to step away, Ray and Karter moved to block his path.

"Who said you could go?" Ray's voice had a sinister undertone that sent an unsettling feeling shooting through Logan’s body.

"I believe I said it and I have every right to, now please step aside." Logan kept his tone level to hide his true feelings; fear rising from the pit of his stomach.

"You led my sister on, you piece of shit," Karter growled, leaning closer so his face was clearer for Logan to make out. "Did you really think I was just going to let you go?"

"I did no such thing." Logan stood his ground, determined not to falter in his strong facade. "My feelings for Jade are real, and our separation was based on mutual respect for each other. We departed on friendly terms, which you would know if you took an actual interest in her life."

 Logan was ashamed that he didn't predict that he would find himself stumbling backwards as Karter's fist connected with his cheek. He knew Karter and Ray were talking, but he couldn't distinguish what they were saying as he miraculously managed to dodge another swinging fist. Acting on pure instinct, Logan swung his own fist; feeling it connect with something before his body was pushed backwards until it was pinned against the library's brick exterior.

"I'm going to make you regret coming anywhere near my sister."

"I only regret coming anywhere near you," Logan hissed through gritted teeth.

 He shouldn't have said that. He shouldn't have said anything in that moment. The words soured in his mouth as they left it. By all accounts, Karter should have knocked him out; beaten him until the concrete was stained red.

Instead, another body intervened; shoving Karter off Logan. He barely had a moment to feel relief before he sensed Ray's return. Using the wall to his advantage, Logan pressed his back against the brick and kicked out hard. The force was enough to knock the air from Ray's lungs and send him stumbling backwards.

 "Hey! Break it up!" A voice boomed from an unknown direction and Logan was thankful to spot the flickering of lights from the street.

"Thank goodness," Logan breathed a sigh of relief as he realised someone must have contacted the authorities.

His legs shook as the adrenaline of the situation faded, and Logan used the wall to guide himself safely to the ground.

 "Don't even think about walking away from me, Powel!" A stern woman's voice called; Logan assumed it was the other officer.

"I'm talking to you, Reels." The original officer sounded calmer, though his tone was still thick with authority.

"Give me a minute, Sergeant ."

Logan recognised the voice all too well, though he never thought he would hear it at such a time; let alone having the welcoming face squat before him.

"Are you ok?"

 Logan nodded but couldn't bring himself to say any more as Jason Reels’ face barely managed to come into focus. The face of a boy he had admired from the track side for years, but never dared to approach.

"You’re lucky I was the one out on patrol with Officer Hend. No one else would let that attitude slide, Reels."

"And I will be sure to thank you later, but I'm more concerned about Logan at the moment." Logan felt a firm hand grip his shoulder, "Are you sure you're ok?"

"I don't think my injuries are in any way life threatening." Though it hurt to do so, Logan couldn't stop the smile that pulled at the corners of his mouth. "Thank you, Jason."

 "Logan Mars, right?" the officer asked, now also kneeling in front of the beaten boy.

"Yes, sir." Logan gingerly wiped his mouth where he could feel blood seeping from a split in his lip.

There was the sound of scuffling and yelling in the distance and the Sergeant sighed.

"Don't you two move, I'll be back." Jason settled himself next to Logan as the Sergeant stood and was quick to yell at the feuding group behind them. "Get in the car, Karter Powel, before you make this any worse for yourself! And Stevenson, I want your butt on that seat before I make you get in that car too!"

 "What is happening?" Logan asked as he painfully twisted to unclip his sports pack and assess the damage to his phone and glasses inside.

"Well, Karter was being sexist by not listening to Officer Hend; though he looks like a hurt puppy now Sergeant Harry has yelled at him. Ray is sitting on a park bench with Hannah, looking a little sore. Nice work with that."

"Forgive me if I don't feel much pride for causing harm to others." Logan huffed, pulling out his thankfully unharmed glasses case.

"Fair enough.”

Logan did not appreciate the relaxed tone Jason had, considering they were potentially facing assault charges for their actions. He was grateful to have his glasses on and give himself some mental relief from eye strain; though that feeling was short lived as he saw his phones cracked screen.

 Perfect.

 Logan and Jason sat in silence, listening as the adults took statements from Ray and Hannah; pausing often for Harry to make sure Karter knew not to leave the car. Though Logan had removed his glasses and leaned back with his eyes closed, he could feel Karter's eyes burning into his skull. It wasn't long before another car pulled up, and Harry was free to return to the boys on the ground.

"What's the story, Harry?" Jason sounded way too cheery for the situation.

"That would be Sergeant Harry; don't smart ass me now, Jason. I'm taking you both back to the station."

"What? Why?" Jason sounded annoyed while fear gripped Logan's throat.

"Statements so far are that the two of you started this whole thing." Harry raised a hand to stop Jason from speaking his mind. "It's getting dark and I don't want to keep you out here for the whole town to see. I’ve asked the station to give both your folks a call so they can meet us at the station later. Let's go."

Jason grumbled but stood with ease, extending his hand down for Logan to pull himself up.

"Thank you."

 Logan pulled himself up, but his legs wobbled as he reached a standing position.

"Woah!"

Jason wrapped a supportive arm around Logan's middle, and Harry steadied him from the other side as he took a moment to find his feet from sitting.

"You good, Mars?"

"Apologies. I was jogging prior and I do believe I may have overexerted myself from this whole situation. I will be fine."

"We can take a detour to the hospital at your request, otherwise the first aid officer can patch you up at the station."

"I appreciate the concern, Sergeant, but I would prefer to get the official processes over with as quickly as possible."

Harry nodded and Logan felt his strength returning; straightening to start walking towards the patrol cars. Harry stayed close; a shield for Logan from the eyes of the others. Despite being more confident in walking, Jason did not let go until they had reached the second patrol car and were sliding into the back seat.

   Stuck in the holding cell, the silence stretched on. Technically Logan could have been in a waiting or interview room if he hadn’t gotten into a very vocal argument with his parents. The pounding in his head wasn’t doing him any favours in regard to thinking logically; but he refused to listen to their homophobic slurs and let them know his true thoughts. They were quickly guided into an interview room which left Logan fuming and pacing in the cell.

Jason sat quietly in the corner and watched; honestly surprised by Logan’s behaviour. Harry had given Jason permission to leave after bystanders had confirmed the boys had acted defensively, but he chose to stick around. Having friends in the station worked in his favour in that sense. Logan had been pacing ever since Jason had entered.

 “Want to play a game?”

Logan paused mid step and turned to face Jason with a mix of anger and confusion.

“Did you just ask me if I wanted to play a game? Are you serious?”

“As a heart attack.” Jason lent back and crossed one leg over the other in a relaxed fashion, “come on. Humour me.”

Shaking his head, Logan sat on the bench across from the other. “Fine. How do I play.”

“It is rather simple.” The grin on Jason’s face looked more sinister thanks to the cuts on his face, though it was genuine. “You ask a question and I must answer it truthfully before I get to ask you a question.”

“That sounds less like a game and more like a conversation.” Logan muttered, rubbing his eyes under his glasses.

“Call it what you want,” he shrugged, “you can go first. Ask your question.”

 Sighing deeply, Logan looked up at Jason; feeling himself relax slightly in seeing the older boy acting so calm and casual.

“I don’t know. What is your current track preference?”

Jason laughed loudly, “track preference? Seriously? That’s your question?” Jason softened as he saw Logan wincing and massaging his temples. “Sorry. Um…200 sprints. Not too long that you lose steam, but not so short that it’s over in a blink. My turn, are those glasses for style or vision?”

“That seems like a rather ridiculous question.”

Jason shrugged, “I’m curious. Just play the game.”

“Obviously they are for vision. Why would you ask such a question?”

“Some people use glasses as purely a fashion choice, and I only ever see you without them on the field. Thought they might have been part of some Clark Kent, Superman, secret identity vibe you were going for.”

“That is ridiculous. Wearing glasses alone isn’t enough to conceal one’s identity.”

“I don’t know about that. Can I try on your glasses?”

“No.” Jason was quick to make an exaggerated pouting face at Logan’s immediate shut down. “Why are you so interested in my glasses?”

“Honestly, I’m not.” Uncrossing his legs, Jason lent forward and rested his chin on cupped hands. “Let’s make this game more interesting. Why are you still here?”

Logan squinted his eyes at Jason, suddenly wary of his line of questioning. “I fought with my parents. Why are you still here?”

“Waiting for my dad to finish work.” It was a half-truth, but truthful none the less. “Why did you fight with your parents?”

“We had a disagreement.”

 Logan was concerned about where Jason’s line of questioning was heading. He didn’t know Jason outside of passing him on the track during training or at events. Yes, Logan admired his athletic skill, but he knew nothing about him as an individual. He was well aware of the rumours that circled the school, and town, about him; but that didn’t mean he was comfortable talking about it all to a relative stranger.

 “Why did you step in to help me?” Logan’s gaze was fixed as he watched a Jason’s eyes flicker slightly.

“Why wouldn’t I?”

Logan smiled, painfully. “The rules you stated earlier, specify that you must answer my question truthfully.”

“Touché.” Jason winked and pointed a finger gun at Logan as he spoke, leaning back against the wall once again. “It may not be common knowledge, but I have a habit of stepping in to break up fights. Though, I will admit, that is normally at school and I’m all talk no action; unless someone else swings first.”

“But Karter didn’t swing at you. My vision may have been impeded, but from where I was standing, you entered the fight unprovoked.”

“Eh,” shrugging Jason winced as a smile sent a jolt of pain through his face. “He had it coming. Did you not want my help?”

“No,” Jason raised an eyebrow at Logan’s response, but remained silent for the other to continue. “While I appreciate the assistance, it wasn’t necessary for you to have gotten involved and cause injury to yourself. Given Karter’s size, he could have easily caused you an injury that could have inhibited your athletic ability. I would hate to have been the cause of the school losing a key track member. I truly do not understand why you would put yourself at risk for me.”

 Logan was shocked to hear Jason laughing again, especially when it was followed with such a pained look afterwards.

“You think way too much, Mars.”

“Or it could be seen that you do not think enough.” Logan snapped back.

“Do you honestly believe that I would just walk away from a group of Juniors beating up a Freshman?”

“Anyone else would. Especially considering all the rumours, and don’t you even pretend to not know about them.” Logan turned away, angry at himself for even bringing up the unnecessary topic at all.

“Well, smart ass, those rumours were the whole reason why I swung first and didn’t bother asking questions at all.”

“Wha- What are you talking about?”

“It doesn’t take a genius to work out that the king of masculinity, Karter Powell, was being homo-“

Logan threw his hands up as he stood in anger, “Why is this such a big deal in the town! Why is everyone so freaking fixated on this? I’m not gay! I don’t understand why I must repeat myself so often.”

“Logan I-“ Jason was standing, but Logan was back pacing the space.

“Just because Patton is my friend, does not automatically make me his partner; nor does it mean our sexual or romantic preferences align.”

“I never-“

“I loved Jade. I still love Jade. The only reason we separated was because she was receiving ridicule from multiple parties, and I felt it was selfish of me to subject her to that just so our relationship could continue. And honestly, I am offended that the only reason you stepped in was because you thought you were saving a g-“

“Logan!” Jason stood in front of him and grabbed his shoulders to force him to stop and look. “I couldn’t give a fuck about your sexuality, but I was not going to walk away from some prick using my sexuality as an excuse to beat someone up.”

 The moment of silence seemed to stretch on for hours as Logan processed Jason’s words. The possibility of further discussions was cut short at the sound of approaching footsteps. Jason dropped his arms just as Patton rounded the corner.

“Oh my goodness! Logan!” He gasped rushing forward with Sergeant Harry a few steps behind.

“Patton? What are you doing here?” Logan braced himself for impact as Sergeant Harry unlocked the door and Patton hurried inside.

“I caught a bus after the police called the house.” Patton was surprisingly gentle as he hugged Logan and carefully inspected his face in the same manner a mother would. “I can’t believe something like this would happen. I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to apologise for, Pat. This was not your fault in the slightest.” Logan pulled Patton close and allowed him to rest his head just below his chin, sharing a glance between Jason and Harry.

Jason nodded, acknowledging Logan’s silent request to keep facts omitted.

“Just an idiot trying to act all authoritative for his sister, instead of respecting her right to date whoever she wants. Can’t see that prick making that mistake again.”

“Watch your mouth, Jason.” Harry warned, but was only given an eye roll in response. “You’re free to go, Mars. Your parents have completed all necessary paperwork and informed us of your current living situation.”

“Thank you, Sergeant Harry.” Logan turned to Jason as Patton pulled away to stand next to Logan. “What about you? How much longer do you have to wait.”

Jason looked over at the clock on the wall, “should only be another 5 to 10 minutes. I think I’ll survive my solitary confinement for that long.”

“Don’t be so dramatic,” Harry grumbled as Jason leant sadly against the bars. “Go wait at my desk; out you all come. I’ve got real criminals that should be using this space.”

 The group walked down the hall to the bullpen of the station, where Jason threw himself onto the chair at the Sergeants desk.

“Catch you at the track later, Logan?” He called as the others continued towards the exit.

Logan didn’t skip a beat as he called over his shoulder, “you can try, Reels.”

 Chair slowly rotating, Jason grinned to himself. He was faster than Logan based on the school records, which made the remark so amusing. Logan was the first person at school that Jason had come out to. Sure, he had come out to his family years prior, and he was more than vocal through the anonymity of the online space; but this was different. Not that he ever showed it, but Jason was anxious to learn if he had made the right decision in coming out. But, one thing he knew for sure in that moment was that he wanted to get to know Logan and Patton outside of the rumours. They were his ticket to moving forward with his personal journey.

   ********************

  Patton closed his textbook as Roman slammed his computer shut in frustration.

“I don’t understand why I need to know all this useless art history crap.” He leaned back in his chair and let his arms dangle loosely by his side. “Acting is about performing in the present. This whole course is a waste of my time.”

“Calm down, Roman.” Patton stood behind him and wrapped warm arms around his neck, placing a soft kiss on his cheek. “You know this is just as important as every other course you have taken.”

“I know, I know, but it’s still frustrating. Can’t you stay here again tonight and help me with all this.” The pout on his face was so comical, Patton struggled to keep his face composed.

“I told you, I’m going home tonight; Logan needs me.” Straightening, Patton went to move away when Roman grabbed his hand and pulled him down to sit on his lap.

“But I need you too. Let me come over. We can comfort Specs together.”

Patton had his arms around Roman’s neck again, eyes locked and begging. As much as he loved Roman, he wanted to stick to his idea of taking their relationship slow. Despite there being only a 3-year age gap, Patton still saw his partner as being so young and wanted him to have his independence; something Patton felt he didn’t have. Not that it was a bad thing, but he felt like he could never cope on his own and didn’t want Roman to be held back by similar anxieties.

“You have the breakfast shift tomorrow, Kiddo, and you’ll need all your beauty sleep; not a distraction.”

“You aren’t a distraction.” Roman pulled Patton close; eyes closing as their lips met.

Familiarity made their movements smooth and addictive as hands traced each other’s forms. It was almost painful for Patton to pull away; hand caressing the others cheek while he smiled knowingly.

“See, a distraction.”

“Okay,” defeated, Roman gave Patton a fake, sad smile. He knew he had a point, but that didn’t stop him from pushing his luck further. “If you must leave, can I be distracted until you have to go?”

Though his mind said “no”, Patton couldn’t deny his heart; nodding, he stood to pull Roman out of his chair. No words were exchanged as Roman pulled his partner in close again, before lifting them up to carry them to his bedroom.

The outside world faded away while they were together. There was no anniversary, no study, no work. Just the two of them, four walls and a queen-sized bed. When Katie shuffled through the front door, arms loaded with groceries, Patton was just packing up his things to leave.

“Have a productive afternoon, PB?” she questioned while heaving the bags into the kitchen.

“Always, Mama Kay.” Patton slipped on his backpack and moved to give Katie a brief hug. “Always. I’ll catch you tomorrow night.”

Katie smiled to herself as she restocked the kitchen, hearing the front door click shut as Patton left. It was good to see things were back to normal; especially with the anniversary fast approaching.

________________________

End Note:

Hello, you lovely and supportive reader. Sorry this update took so long. I actually had the chapter done last weekend, but I got hit with the flu and didn't feel in a good headspace for editing. I'm at about 70% so hopefully not too many mistakes have slipped through.

Anyway, not going to lie to you all, the next chapter may be a while. My heart says 2 weeks, but I am learning nothing ever goes to plan around here. With that being said though, I do post samples on Tumblr. If you ever feel like it's taking too long, just check there and you might be lucky enough to find a sample (or art....I'm not gonna say I'm addicted, but I think I might be addicted to the thrill of seeing ideas from my head brought to life).

Thanks again for reading and happy timezone to you all 💜🐌

UPDATE: again, please don’t repost the art by Peach. Reblog this post or I have put the art as the header for the Masterlist that you can reblog. If Peach posts the art on her personal Tumblr, I will of course add that link here as well.) 💜🐌

_____________________________

Chapter 8   — Master List

What else have I done:

The Perfect Ring (oneshot - analogical proposal)

You Promised (oneshot - prinxiety angst/injury/near death)

Sides of a Hero (Completed Fic - sides are fusions of impulses and aspects of Thomas. Virgil has a depressing past that he is forced to face thanks to Deceit and Rage. Was canon compliant at the time of completion)

The Shield to your Sword (WIP - A fantasy/magic au - Prinxiety (Royal Roman and orphan Virgil - they’ll admit to their love eventually), Virgil angst, non binary, healer Logan, *spoiler* Patton)

Check out my other blog for random fandom reblogs and stuff @snail-giggles

[marie-lamb-b]

The Ink DeMonth. Day 3: Stuck.

Keep your keys at hand…

I know I’m delayed, but I’m still into it until I say so! (And it won’t be soon~)

Alright, taking again these two goofs, I decided to put a bit of pepper (and vinegar and onions and blood and tears) and make a thing a tad angsty. I really enjoyed writing Sammy’s part and his growing suspicions, as oblivious as I think he is he can really get things aside for what he cares~

Tumblr Version under the cut!

(Tag Warnings: Claustrophobia, Religious content)

6.30 PM and most of the JDS employees already left the building. Only the workaholics, the ones that had no sense of time whatsoever, and those in charge of making sure everything’s left shut and closed were the only ones remaining. And between that bunch was Wally Franks.

As the time settled it, now he was holding his closet’s door open while he was checking his last chores in the list. Assuring everything was in order; tools in store, keys at hand –well, actually hanging from the knob but he still was using them to lose them so quickly. Yep, everything in order. Now he just needed to take out his notepad, cross it out from the list and check what else he needed to do before leaving… if only it weren’t for that ludicrous new system installed that made the doors to close shut whenever they were left open. That’s why Wally had to keep it held open.

“Wally, my boy!” Joey came from behind greeting the young janitor.

“Yes Mr. Drew, sir?” He answered peeking his head from over his shoulder.

“I trust you’ll leave everything as pristine as a fine china cup before leaving, won’t you.”

“Absolutely, sir.” He turned around to face him

“And don’t forget to–”

“–Shut off the lights, the heater and the front door locked close.” He completed his sentence as he reached with his free hand to the notepad. “Everythin’ in check to be done as soon as I can.” He assured to his boss.

“Excellent! Then I have nothing to worry about.”

“No, sir. Everythin’ll be a-ok, sir!” He stood straight and saluted him, unaware of releasing he door and it stumbling against him as it started to close itself. “Ouch! Sir, Mr. Drew, can I ask ye something?” He waited for a permissive nod to continue. “I get it that most of the fellas in here agreed about these doors closin’ alone, but we had to put that thing in every door?” He shoved away the door of his own closet to emphasize, with a large pleading look.

“Sorry, my boy. But this measure was taken to improve the productivity of all my crew. And you know I need them to be happy so they work hard.”

“I get it, boss.” He sighed in defeat.

“Good. Now, please don’t forget to add to that list of yours send Sammy to his home. I don’t wanna have him passed out in the break room couch again and have a grumpy music director all day tomorrow.” He requested as he pointed the musician right behind the glass of his office, slouched over his desk and quite probably muttering something.

“Send Mr. Lawrence to home…” He picked up a pen and started to scribble in his notepad, all the while he left the door loose and stumped once again against him and releasing a huff over it. “Right above shuttin’ the heater. Got it sir!”

“Very well, Wally. See ya tomorrow!” He saluted as he walked away, and the janitor granted him goodbye as well.

Alright, time to keep moving. Next thing on list: Sammy’s last cup of his special coffee. It didn’t matter whether Joey have requested it or not; it became an agreement between them two that this very last cup was Sammy’s cue to leave as soon as he emptied it. That, if he wanted Wally to keep preparing that coffee as he liked –with all that little pantry that the janitor fixed inside his closet only for him. Why Wally didn’t ask something more in return of that special treat, he didn’t know but couldn’t care less; all that worried the young janitor was the wellbeing of the oblivious music man and this guaranteed at least a proper night of rest for him.

But if he wanted to prepare his ‘specialty’, he needed to reach the hidden spot over the shelves where he built that secret pantry, and would need both arms to do it. So he glanced to the door, thinking –and quite wishing– for the door to not close as he was on the task. And resolving to hold it open, at least a sliver, he leaned his foot to support it, all the while he stretched to reach in the upper shelf.

Tapping with his bare digits, he came close to almost everything he needed. He got a clean mug, a tiny bag with bean-like stuffing –a coffee portion just for 1–, sugar, sugar, sugar… he found the shaker! Now only left the tiny cup of cream… that thing always rolled further back…

He stretched a tad more, only his middle and ring fingers used as some sort of tongs to try and reach behind. The door was barely hold by the toes of his foot as he tried to get upper. C’mon, c’mon… where’s the cream…? He could feel the little container but was simply out of reach.

He recoiled and stood firmly, crouching a little. Maybe a little quick hop would help. A glance behind; the door was still open and his foot holding it quite well. Alright, he prepared.

1… 2… 3!

A hop. A successful reach! A landing with both his feet.

“Yes!” He cheered way too quickly, as soon he heard the squeak of the hinges and the door slammed closed.

He turned his head back as soon as he heard the shutting door and the darkness consumed every single corner of the space. No light was inside the tiny closet except by the thin sliver that came from below the door’s frame.

“Ok. Ok, just– just calm down, Wally.” He tried to reassure himself as he slowly turned as he could to face the door. “You– you need to… need to use your keys! That’s it!”

Although that spark of hope rapidly faded, as he started to pat around himself, looking where could have put those –again. His patting turned into slapping, and within second his breaths also turned more and more raged. He just had those damn things! He used them to open…! To open the door…

…He left his keys hanging from the door’s knob…

…Oh, no…

Realization hit him like a truck and he barely felt his breathing hitching. His mouth turned into a dreadful wobbling smile as he tried way too hard to not fall in panic.

“Heh… he heh… Alright, this– this is– is– is not so bad! I– I just havetta– to– Sammy will notice I ha– haven’t shown yet! …Yeah! He– he’ll notice me. Right?”

…

“…Right…?”

He kept reassuring himself, feeling each hammering second like excruciatingly. Ignoring the rivulets of tears forming and descending from his eyes, clutching painfully his chest with his nails dug in just where his rosary was hanging and his pocket bible was kept.

He just had to wait and soon he’d be out, right…?

He focused on his breaths; he focused on his surroundings. He closed his eyes, as he rather be in a known darkness before than the one from his very own closet. He heard the pipes flowing, the outside lights buzzing, a voice… singing?

Oh God, no…!

Sammy. Sammy’s voice. Sammy was singing. Sammy was vocalizing out loud and way too into his own mind!

This was bad.

This was bad.

This was bad. This was bad. This was bad. This was bad. This was bad. This was bad. ThiswasbadThiswasbadThiswasbadThiswasbadThiswasbadThiswasbadThiswasbadThiswasbadThiswasbadThiswasbadThiswasbadThiswasbadThiswasbadThiswasbadThiswasbadThiswasbadThiswasbadThiswasbad!!!!!

“SAMMY!!! SAMMY!!!” Wally started to shout as loud as his panicked voice allowed. He started to bang the door as well, but with how narrow the space was, he couldn’t swing his arm without hitting it with the shelves behind. He didn’t mind. He needed to get his attention somehow. He had to notice him. Anyone had to! “SAMMY!! SAMMY, HELP!! ANYONE!!! HEEEEEEEEEEEEEELP!!!!!!”

Nobody.

The only thing he was able to hear was Sammy, still singing, and his very own crying.

He turned again, back facing the door and leaned there, trying to slide down, ever so slowly, bending his knees so he could fit sitting even if he had to press against the shelves. All as he kept crying, distressed, and painfully gripping his chest.

No one heard him. Sammy didn’t hear him.

He let a wild and grieving wail to escape his throat, in hopes to be heard and rescued, but aside of not being heard at all, it only helped to harm his own cords as he kept crying.

And as tired and hurt he was, as hoarse his throat was, as burnt his cheeks were, only one thing he could thing to ever do, even if the desperation consumed him.

“When I am afraid, I put my trust in you.” [Psalm, 56:3]

“Our Father, Who art in Heaven.” He started to pray as he picked out his rosary. “Hallowed be Thy name. Thy Kingdom come, Thy will be done on earth as it is in Heaven. Give us this day our daily bread…”

And he kept praying, faith into that at least his prays would be heard.

*-*-*-*-*

Sammy was singing. He needed to do so. He had to vocalize out loud what he was composing in order to assure his work was spotless. For whenever he noticed a single mistake, call it a misplaced note or wrong length, it would lead into a little fit of rage against himself, muttering profanities only audible for those in the range of, let’s say, the whole hall until reaching the infirmary’s entrance. It would be followed by him tearing apart or crumpling the music sheet, just like he was doing right then. Sure, he could cross out the wrong part, fix it, and then he could transcript what was already done in a new page, but usually that was not his style; was something that Wally has been trying to help him with.

Talking about, where was he anyways? Normally he would appear right before he started to tear the sheet and help him breathing and cooling down his mood…

Huh, probably was down in the toy factory or something…

Sammy took seat and clenched his head, an ache about to grow. Ugh, he needed his coffee.

He picked up his mug and held it against his lips, only to notice that it was empty. That’s weird. Did he already drink his coffee? But he can’t even remember… He clicked his tongue, trying to catch any lingering flavor; nothing.

Wally didn’t refill his coffee?

Now that he thought about as he rubbed his neck, he didn’t even remember his usual kiss when he warned about ‘the last cup and then at home’.

Where’s Wally…?

“WALLY?” He called out loud. Nothing.

He stood up, ready to leave his office and a dreadful feeling tingling all over his chest. He opened the door and peeked out, moving, each step ever so slowly and eyes darting in every single direction.

“FRANKS?” He called out again. Still nothing.

The tingling expanded, taking place now along his arms and until the very tip of his fingers. He started to flex them, ready to attack if something ever got to happen and he needed to act rather quickly.

“C’mon, Wally, where are you?” He muttered, picking on every single buzz around him; the pipes dripping, the boards creaking, the door… sobbing and mumbling?

He shot his gaze towards the janitor’s closet, closed and keys dangling of the knob itself. With slow steps, as delicate as a deer peeking through the woods, he approached to the door. Fearfully tender, he leaned both his hands and an ear pressed against the door, focused, listening.

“…blessed are you among women…” A hoarse voice prayed, sobbing in between. “…And blessed is the fruit of your womb.” Sammy’s eyes widened in realization; it was Wally.

“Oh, God. Wally!” He claimed although voiceless.

He hurried up, picking the keys and turning them albeit clumsily due the desperation. He managed to open it widely, and Wally stumbled back, just in the part about praying for the sinners which was cut off by the huff he released when hitting his back against the floor.

Eyes shut tightly at first, Wally slowly opened them, hit by the lights as he already was customized to the darkness of his closet. First thing on sight was a blurry, backlighted silhouette above him, and seemed to be panting. And although he got used to the light out there, the shape was still blurry; his eyes were too tired and swollen to focus properly.

“Oh, God. Wally, are you okay?!” His voice –Sammy’s voice!– exclaimed with so much concern and anguish. And he couldn’t hold it any longer.

As if there was still water in him to freely pour, Wally started to cry out loud again. And Sammy crouched, lowering to his level so he was able to hold the upset young man between his arms.

“Shh… It’s okay, Wally. I’m here.” Sammy soothed, stroking his hair and holding him close to his chest, as much as to comfort him as to contain himself. “I’m here.” He repeated, burying his face in his neck and muffling a tad his consolations. “I’m here. It’s okay now. I’m here…”

Three and a half loops of his rosary was what it took Wally to be found. But it didn’t matter now, for his prays were heard and now he was out in the arms of the only one he really cared of.

[faithtrustkookiecrust]

The Muse

PAIRING: Kim Taehyung x Female Reader

GENRE: Romance, fluff

WORD COUNT: 6,4k

AUTHOR’S NOTE: Hello. I am very excited to share my first BTS AU story! English is not my first language, so I apologize in advance if you come across any errors. Feel free to leave me some constructive criticism. Enjoy. x

DESCRIPTION: You’re a teacher by day, aspiring writer by night. You like to keep yourself within your own bubble. One day a new neighbor moves in and disturbs your peace. It is the art student, Taehyung. One night he knocks on your door. He’s got an art assignment and his muse cancelled on him in the last minute... Now he’s in desperate need of a new muse. 

You never did pay much attention to your neighbors. Neither did your neighbors seem to pay much attention to you. Everybody was busy with their own lives. Every once in a while you could hear a door opening and closing, footsteps coming from the staircase or from the flat above you. You lived in a small, old apartment building and didn't think much of the noises from the people sharing it with you. Until one day.

It was Saturday morning and you were enjoying your peace and quiet. You were sitting on the couch with a lovely, warm cup of tea in one hand and a book you’ve finally started to read in the other. You rarely had mornings like this. As a teacher by day and an aspiring writer by night, you were always way too tired and stressed out in the mornings to sit down and have a little ”me time” before heading off to work. You usually woke up too late and only had time to wash up, brush your hair, brush your teeth and grab a quick piece of toast or a fruit on your way out to catch the bus to the school where you worked. Having a calm morning felt great for your body, mind and soul. You were absorbed in the moment and focused on reading the book in front of you so that you could completely leave your living room and escape to the land of fantasy that was hidden in a corner of your mind.

Suddenly a loud bang echoed in the walls. So much for your quiet reading time, you thought to yourself. Since the noise was followed by other loud, annoying sounds, you decided to put your book down and find the source of all the destruction. You tip toed to your front door and looked through the peep-hole. You were usually a bit shy and didn’t like to interfere with other people’s business, but at the same time, you shared the curiosity level of the seven year olds you taught at school. You just had to know what was going on in your building. On the other side of the door, there were figures and voices filling up the staircase. They were lifting furnitures upstairs. New neighbors. How exciting. Or was it exciting? You didn’t really know your old neighbors to begin with. The only one you knew by name, was a little lovely lady called Mrs Kwan who lived on the first floor. She always greeted you with a big smile and you were even genuinely interested in hearing how her cats’ day were going. You had hardly met or seen the other people living in the building. Until now. You held your breathe as you tried to eavesdrop.

”Watch out, Kook!” a man shouted.

”I can’t see where I’m going! You have to move faster, Jimin-ssi!” the other man responded.

The two men were trying to carry a big mattress up the narrow staircase. Suddenly they dropped it down carefully to rest.

”This is really heavy, Tae! You should come here and help us carry it!” one of the guys shouted to a third person downstairs.

”I’m carrying my boxes of photographs! Plus the staircase is way too narrow for all the three of us at the same time!” a man’s voice replied from the bottom floor.

”Photographs! If I’ve known you’d only carry your delicate photos, I’m not sure I’d agreed to this.” the guy called ”Kook” exclaimed. He was on the bottom side of the mattress, holding it and trying to keep it from falling down.

”It’s your bed for crying out loud. We’re helping you move. Give us some slack.” said the other guy.

”And you’re both my friends, that I love so dearly. Now please move on. We can’t stand here all day! I have to return the van in an hour. We don’t have time to argue. Chop chop!”

You had to hold in a giggle as you observed the two guys cursing and once again lifting the mattress to take it upstairs. You’d offer to help, but was crippled by the anxiety of meeting new people. You didn’t want to be in their way. Silently, you left your post at the door and returned to the safety of your couch. You put your earplugs in and started to play some calm, instrumental music to keep out the noises from the strangers. There was no way you were going to let them disturb your Saturday morning.

Your neck started to ache. What time was it? You grabbed your phone from the living room table and pressed the home button. 7:45 p.m. You had completely lost track of time. A little hungry growl filled the room. You put your nearly finished book down and let one of your hands rest on your stomach. ”I know”, you said as a response to your hungry tummy. ”I’ll see what I can find”.

You made a little quick bite to eat, some instant ramen noodles with vegetables. A lazy, delicious dish that you loved to eat. After you finished eating, you decided to rest a bit before continuing to write on your novel until the late hours of the night. Just a quick little nap and you’d be good to go.

Once again, your peace and quiet was disturbed by a loud noise. You got startled and sat up straight. How long had you been sleeping? According to your phone, the ”quick” nap had turned into a three hour long nap. You sighed as you rubbed your eyes and stretched your back and neck.

”Where did I leave my computer?” you said aloud to yourself.

You barely had time to get up before you heard another bang from upstairs. The bang had made you jump so hard that you accidentally knocked your knee into the table in front of you. You cursed out loud. If your hearing was right, so did the mumbling voice from upstairs. You couldn’t help but to smirk. At least you were not the only one having a hard time. A chill went down your spine and made you shiver, it was getting a bit cold in your apartment. As you fetched your computer from your bed, you grabbed some socks and a cozy knitted sweater that your grandma had made you years ago. Time to cozy things up and start to write! Hopefully, you’ll get another chapter down before it gets too late.

You lose yourself within your own writing bubble, as you always tend to do when writing. It’s like something takes over you body and you lose all sense of where you are at the moment. A wonderful feeling. Well, it would be wonderful if it wasn’t for the hammering sound from above. You gave a quick glance to your roof and bit your tongue. Your bubble was on the verge of being burst.

”Not now…Please, not now.” you sighed.

The hammering stopped. You waited for a few seconds, cracked your fingers and was about to continue writing when the hammering started again. An almost animalistic growl left your throat as you threw your head back by frustration. You didn’t want to lose your spark. In the corner of the computer, the digits told you it was already 11:55 p.m.

”He has got to be kidding me!”

Without a second thought, you jumped up from the bed and headed towards your door. This was not okay, he could finish his stupid hammering in the morning. Night time was a sacred thing to you. You needed it to be quiet when you were writing. You’re in such a rush that you even forget to put shoes on. Your feet are light and doesn’t make any sound as you jog upstairs. As you arrive in front of your new neighbor’s door, you stop to take a moment to breathe. What were you doing? You don’t do this. You don’t confront people or tell them off, you hide and hope that the world fixes its own problems. You hear the hammering from the other side of the door. Tonight you break the pattern. You knock on the door. The hammering stops and you hear steps coming closer to the door. Oh shit. What were you going to say? You had no time to think, as the door opened on ajar.

”Yes?” a deep voice said from the gap.

You tried to adjust your eyes to see the person.

”Yes, hi. I’m your downstairs neighbor…” you began.

The man opened the door a little bit more.

”Is that so?” he responded.

The light from behind him made it easier for you to see him. You took a little step back. He was beautiful. Really beautiful. He had dark, ash blonde hair and big brown eyes. You lost yourself in his eyes for a second before you shook your head and got your senses back together.

”Yes.” you said, a bit too stern for your liking, but you had to remind yourself that you were there for a reason. ”I just wanted to say that I would appreciate it if���”

”If you got my name? I’m Taehyung. But everyone calls me Tae.”

You started to get annoyed by the fact that he interrupted you every time you opened your mouth.

”I would appreciate it if you stopped the hammering, it’s very late and…” you started again.

”Oh, were you sleeping? I’m sorry. I’m a night owl.” Tae said.

You bit your tongue. He really has no manners.

”No, in fact, I was not sleeping. I’m writing. And I would prefer to do so in quiet, since it’s midnight!” you jerked out quickly before he had a chance to interrupt you again.

Tae closed his mouth. His eyes started to glow, and you could hint a little smirk on his face. You stared back at him. It became a starring contest. You couldn’t help but notice the way he looked at you. It was like he was observing every little detail of your face. He took a quick glance down at your feet and smiled. You looked down and realized you were standing there in just your knitted sweater, PJ shorts and socks. Not that it mattered, it was in the middle of the night.

”I was just putting up some paintings.” Tae said and used the hammer he had in his hand and pointed it to the inside of his flat. ”I’m an artist.”

”I don’t care if you’re trying to outmatch The Louvre. Please do it in the morning instead. Thanks.” you responded and took a quick turn down the stairs, before Picasso had a chance to make another clever comeback.

”I’m sorry. I didn’t get your name…” he shouted behind you.

”I didn’t give it to you. Good night!” you said as you closed the door. Finally some peace and quiet.

You hardly noticed that you had a new neighbor living upstairs from you during the following week. Work was pulling you in every direction and you’d barely had any time to write during the whole week. Or energy for that matter. You’d crashed into your couch every day after work, not wanting to leave it ever again. Teaching in a nutshell. Somehow time had flown by and suddenly it was Saturday again. Finally a whole day by yourself, your computer and your creative mind. After a couple of hours of writing, you decided to get some air and maybe a quick bite to eat. You grabbed your coat from the clothing rack, put on a warm hat and headed out. As soon as you opened the front door of the building you got blinded by the sun and had to squint your eyes to see the following steps down. Still, it was refreshing to leave your apartment and not being in a rush for work. You took a deep breath of the fresh autumn air and let it fill your lungs. What a wonderful day. The leaves in the trees were starting to change their colors from yellow to red, and the whole street looked like a painting. Painting. All of a sudden a flash of the memory of you standing in front your new neighbor’s door at midnight hit you. Wonder what he’s up to, you thought to yourself as you got into the closest coffee shop. As you left the shop with your sandwich and take away chai latte, you imagined what kind of artwork Taehyung did. Or if he was any good for that matter. Not that you’d get to find out any time soon, you reminded yourself. Keeping to yourself was your thing, and you couldn’t see a reason for that needing to change. Even if you did get more curious for every step you took closer to home. What was it with that man that made you unable to get him out of your mind?

As you entered your building, you saw Mrs Kwan on her way into her apartment with a newspaper in her hand.

”Hello, Mrs Kwan.” you greeted friendly.

”Hello, dear. How nice it is to see you!”

You smiled as a response and was about to turn away and head up the stairs when she suddenly stopped you.

”Oh, have you met the new boy yet?” she asked.

”I have run into him, yes.” you said politely, not wanting to get into details.

”You just missed him! He kindly fetched my newspaper for me. Sure is a looker, isn’t he? Single too!”

You stood kindly still and listened to her words, not wanting to interrupt her, but also a bit curious of what she had to say about your new neighbor.

”He was carrying art supplies, ready to paint and make the world a more beautiful place. I love a man who can paint. Just like my Cheng used to. I miss him dearly. I still have his paintings to keep me company. Artists are great companions, my dear. They see the beauty of everyday objects and moments that others let pass without a second glance. They value the little things. Too bad they’re penniless though. Oh well, dear, I’m not going to keep you here all day. I’m sure you have more important things to do.”

”I’m actually on my way to write on my novel.” you said with a big smile.

”Ah! Two artists! Double the beauty! Now that would be something else.”

”Mrs Kwan!” you said with a surprised but friendly tone and you both started to laugh.

”Well, we’ll see.” the old lady said as she went back into her apartment and carefully closed the door again.

You couldn’t help but to smile at the kindness of her heart. Wonder what it’s like to see the world from such experienced eyes, having lived and loved a whole life time, you thought as you went upstairs and into your apartment to devour your late lunch.

As time was your enemy, the weekend passed by quickly once again. It was Sunday evening and you were sitting on your bed with your legs crossed and your computer resting on your lap. You starred at the blinking line on the page on the screen. It was waiting for you to fill it with words, but you seemed to be out of words at the moment. Your mind was too distracted for you to write. You couldn’t figure out what was the source of your distraction, so you closed the window and decided to go on Google and search for some inspirational art. Nothing seemed to work. There was no inspiration to be found. As you kept on scrolling through page after page of beautiful images, you heard a loud voice coming from the flat above. You couldn’t hear the exact words, but the voice seemed upset, almost angry.

”What is happening now?” you sighed to yourself as you scratched the back of your head. You hardly had time to give it any other thought as your eyes catched the time, it was already 10:15 p.m.

”Shit!” you exclaimed when you realized how late it was. It was time to get ready for bed, Monday morning is creeping up behind the corner and you really needed to get some sleep after a weekend of productive writing. You leapt out of bed and headed off to the bathroom. After you were done cleaning up, you once again headed back towards the bed. You also brushed your long hair, since it usually got tangled up during your sleep. Funny enough, you weren’t really that tired. Figures. You truly were an night owl. You knew you wouldn’t be able to give writing another go before bed, your brain wasn’t focused enough. You let out an annoyed whimper of frustration and boredom, but was distracted by a sudden knock on your front door. Who could possibly be knocking on your door at this hour?

You took a few sneaky steps towards the door and looked through the peep-hole. You let out a loud sigh when you realized who was standing outside. It was Tae. You carefully opened the door, leaving it on ajar.

”Yes?” you said, sounding a bit annoyed.

”How do you feel about nudity?”

Tae threw the question in your face as if he was asking something mundane as how you felt about having milk in your coffee, completely ignoring the annoyed and unwelcoming tone in your voice. You looked stunned back at him.

”Excuse me?”

Tae gave away a nervous smile. He drew his hand through his hair as he continued.

”You see, my muse has got herself an impediment, so unfortunately she couldn’t show up tonight and now I’m in a desperate need of a replacement…”

You seemed to be unable to close your mouth and continued to stare at him. What the fuck was happening?

”… I have this assignment for my art class. This was her only available date, but the assignment is due tomorrow so I’m a bit lost. Then I came to think of you, and I would truly appreciate your help. Are you willing to be painted?”

You couldn’t wrap your mind around his words. Was he speaking english?

”You know, artist to artist?” he said and made a hand gesture pointing back and forth between the two of you.

You closed your mouth and raised an eyebrow. Tae got a desperate look in his eye. You wanted to shut the door in his face, but there was something inside of you that couldn’t. Damn his big, brown puppy dog eyes.

”Look, I know we’re strangers…”

”And you want me to be naked?” you cut him off.

”Not… entirely…” he started off.

”No, because that would be absurd!” you scoffed.

Tae inhaled and carried on with his appeal.

”My assignment is to paint a person in a tender and vulnerable moment. You don’t need to show a lot of skin… just enough to get the proper emotion.”

”What is `enough´ of skin?” you asked and made gesturing air quotes with your fingers.

”Your back and shoulders? And legs… You’ll be sitting with your back towards me. I won’t force you into doing something you’re not comfortable with and I…”

”I’ll do it.” you said with a determined voice.

Tae silenced at once. This was a first. You almost felt proud of having the power of shutting him up. He looked back at you with his big eyes, almost as if he was shocked that he managed to persuade you.

”… you’ll do it? Thank you!” he said once recovering conciseness. He put his hands together and made a thankful gesture.

”What the hell was that?” your panicked mind thought to yourself. You didn’t know if it was a twist of fate or the fact that you were a bit bored that made you agree to this. Still, you took some pleasurement by the fact that he’d asked you. Isn’t it everybody’s dream to have someone paint you at some point in your life? Like one of the women in all those old paintings in museums. You lost yourself in your own thoughts as followed Tae’s footsteps up the stairs and into his flat.

”What am I supposed to be wearing? Or not be wearing…” you reminded yourself.

”Don’t worry, I have a shirt that you can borrow. I’ll show you”. he said as he gestured you to follow him into the main room. As you entered the room you took a quick look around. There was no doubt this was an artist’s home. The first thing that had caught your eye was an old wooden desk filled with art supplies. You smiled as you glanced upon all the different brushes and pencils standing stacked in different sized ceramic pots. The pots stood neatly in-between multiple paint cans with labels of names of colors that you had barely heard of before. Lying on the table were also trays with dried in paint on them. Next to the desk there were several canvases piled up against the wall, ready to be used. ”I wish I could paint”, you sighed softly to yourself.

In the corner of the room by the windows, there was a bed. Strange, you thought, that he would have his bed out in the main room, as all the apartments in the building included a smaller bedroom. The bed was unmade and the sheets all wrinkled up, yet it still looked very welcoming. A few meters from the bed he had organized a chair, a canvas and side table with brushes. He was all set up and ready to paint his savior in need. You caught yourself smiling as your eyes continued to scan the artist’s place. The walls were filled with paintings and framed photographs. The photographs pictured different objects and environments, such as autumn leaves and flower buds that were yet to bloom. There were pictures of people in different ages. Your eyes wondered from frame to frame. You came upon a picture that you liked particularly much, it was one with a zoom in on a young child’s eyes. It had been captured in the perfect moment, as it showed the spark in his or hers big eyes. They were filled with such joy and curiosity, ready to explore what the world has to offer. There was another photograph that caught your attention. It featured an old couple sitting on a bench outside of an old house. Their body language simulated age and fatigue, yet their eyes were filled with the same spark as the child in the earlier photo. They looked very much in love. You wondered if he’d taken any of the photographs by himself. The next second an old fashioned camera lying on top of a dresser in the other corner of the room caught your eyes and there was your answer, you figured.

”They’re my grandparents.” you heard a deep voice behind you say.

”Really?” you responded and looked back at the photograph on the wall. ”They look like very nice people.”

”They were the nicest people you could ever meet. They were the ones that raised me while my parents worked hard to provide for me and my siblings.” Tae told you as he handed you a white shirt.

”Were? I’m so sorry for your loss…” you said with a comforting voice.

”Thanks” Tae responded as he looked at the photograph. ”I miss them. Everyday.”

You couldn’t help but to notice a hint of sadness in his voice and watched how intensely his eyes stared at the framed photograph of his grandparents. If you were not mistaken, you could see his eyes fighting the urge to tear up.

”I’ll let you change as I prepare the last things for our session.” he said as he shook his head, as if he could shake away his urge to cry.

”Session? Sounds very formal.” you laughed, trying to brighten his mood.

”Well, our creative sitting then.” he responded with a mischievous smile.

He put his back to you to give you some privacy, as he opened some paint cans and filled up his tray. You observed his motions as you began to strip your clothes, starting with your tank top and then let your pajama shorts hit the floor as you were left standing in your panties. You quickly put on the shirt Tae had given you. You hesitated a bit and your cheeks started to flush. He had asked for nudity, but you still hadn’t completely wrapped your mind around this whole thing. You didn’t know where the spark came from, if it was due to tiredness or excitement, but your body suddenly filled up with a sense of courage and calm. With a smooth movement, you removed your underwear and let it reunite with the rest of the clothes lying at your feet.

”Where do you want me to put my clothes?” you asked as you held them in your hands.

Tae looked back at you wearing nothing but his white shirt, and quickly removed his gaze to the clothes in your hand. Did he just get embarrassed?

”Uhh… You can put them on the armchair over there.” he replied and gestured towards an old fashioned, red armchair that you’d neglect to notice. You did as you were told. ”I’m almost done.” he said as he quickened up the pace to get ready as soon as possible.

Your feet started to nervously tap the floor as you felt a bit awkward standing there almost naked. Once again, your eyes attached to the camera lying on the dresser. You decided to get a closer look.

The floor creaked as you walked through the room.

”Why did you ask me?” you asked as you fiddled a bit with the camera. You didn’t know much about cameras, but you could tell this was a few decades old.

”I didn’t feel like painting the 80-year old Mrs Kwan in 1B. Plus, I think you’re very beautiful.”

You felt your cheek blush again, since you’re not used to getting compliments.

”Hey, I find Mrs Kwan to be very adorable and nice.” you said teasingly as you tried to joke off his last words.

”Maybe I’ll ask her next time.”

”She’d love that.”

You both laughed.

”And.. I’m ready”. Tae said and carried the painting tray and put it on the side table.

”Where do I… How do you want me to…” you asked as you pointed towards the bed.

Tae smiled and gestured you to sit.

”You’ll sit with your back towards me.” he said and pointed at his chair. You followed his instruction and faced the wall. He grabbed your shoulders with his light touch and corrected you into the right angle. You had to bend one of your legs to get in the right position.

”Like this?” you asked as he let go of you. You stretched out your other leg to sit more comfortably.

”Perfect.” he answered as he’d taken a step back to get a better look. ”Now… I’ll just carefully pull down the shirt a bit.”

You let his fingers touch the thin fabric of the shirt. He made a swift move and pulled it down slowly, revealing your back inch by inch. You felt goosebumps prickle your skin. His soft touch left a shadow of a light shiver on your body.

”Are you ok?” he asked as he probably had noticed your reaction.

”I’m fine.” you replied and turned your face to the right to follow his movements in the corner of your eye.

A loud gulp left Tae’s throat as his fingers caressed your back through the thin fabric. It seemed he wasn’t left untouched by the situation either. He stopped his movement and left the shirt about an inch above your bottom. Carefully he let one of his hands pull your long hair to side to reveal more of you back. He cleared his throat and headed back to his chair.

”And now I just sit?” you affirmed.

”Now you sit.”

The room was filled with silence for several minutes, as you both soaked in the new atmosphere. It wasn't an awkward silence, it was just… a bit enigmatic. Like something was hanging in the air. You listened to the sound of his pencil touching the canvas as he sketches the outlines of your body. The light in the room was quite dim, only a few lamps were lit. Tae had also lit some candles to get the atmosphere right, you supposed. The sky was pitch black outside, but the city was illuminated by the stars and the moon. It was a beautiful sight. You wondered if the moonlight would give your body a nice glow as Tae was watching you. Did he like what he was seeing?

”Is it okay if I talk?” you asked and broke the silence.

Tae looked up from his canvas.

”Yeah… You can talk. I’ll let you know when I’m doing your mouth.” he responded.

You scoffed. You were way too tired to let that sexual innuendo slip pass. If you could’ve seen Tae’s face, you bet he’d be smiling. He didn’t comment further, so you had to bite your bottom lip to keep you from laughing. Maybe you were the only one with a childish humor.

”Do you mind me asking why you have your bed out here? you decided to ask to keep it from getting unnecessarily awkward.

”Not at all. I didn’t want it in my darkroom.”

”You have a darkroom in your apartment?” ”Yes. It beholds my most precious belongings.”

”Your photographs?”

”Correct.”

You smiled at the thought of him standing in his darkroom, developing beautiful photographs that he’s taken himself.

”Did you take the photographs on your wall?” you ask.

”Most of them.” he replies. ”Can you move your face a little upward?”

You follow his instruction and tilt your head up a bit, once again putting your gaze towards the moon. It gazes back, almost as if it’s watching you. ”Moon, mind your own business” you think to yourself as the corner of your mouth twitches into a little smile.

You wish you could observe Tae the way he was observing every last detail of your body. You had to fight the urge to move your head so you could watch him work his way with his tools. Watch how he’d carefully chose and mix colors to match your skin tone, how he used the brush and left beautiful strokes on the canvas. Just the thought about his face being serious, all crumpled up and focused, awoke tingling butterflies in your stomach. Your legs twitched. Did he notice? You couldn’t take it any longer and made a swift motion to glance back on the artist. He was staring down on his canvas. He was so beautiful sitting there, holding the canvas with one hand and carefully painting it with the other. His hair was a bit tousled up, as if he’d just drawn his fingers through it. You almost let out a loud sigh by just looking at him, but was able to stop yourself just in time.

”Are you comfortable?” he asked all of a sudden, making you jump.

He looked up from the canvas and met your eyes with a curious gaze.

”Err. Yeah. I’m just getting a bit tired. It’s late after all.” you responded. It wasn’t necessarily true, but you didn’t feel like admitting how he was affecting you and getting under your skin.

”Maybe you could tell me something then, to keep you awake. What are you writing about?”

You could feel your cheeks flush. You hardly talked about your writing with other people, it was something close and personal. Somehow, he was emanating a sense of calm and made you feel safe.

”I am writing about a young woman who quits her job and moves to Paris to pursue her dream of becoming a writer. She finds love in a penniless artist with a tragic backstory…”

Tae stopped in the middle of a motion and looked up at you. You stopped mid-sentence as you reflected on the words you’d just said. Oh, the irony. ”That is… very interesting.” Tae responded and looked back down on his painting. ”Very interesting, indeed.”

You scoffed.

”I guess it’s a bit funny.” you said.

”How so?” Tae asked as he raised an eyebrow and once again met your gaze.

”That I’m writing about somebody living in Paris… I’ve never been to Paris.” you answered, fully realizing that Tae knew your answer was a way to sway away from the obvious and coincidental situation.

”I doubt C.S. Lewis ever went to Narnia…” Tae responded with twinkle in his eyes.

You laughed. So the artist had a sense of humor.

”I know, smart ass. What I mean is that I often write about people who are living in similar situations like myself, but has the courage to take that extra leap that I’d never have the guts to do.” ”So, you want to move to Paris?” Tae said as he continued painting.

”No. I mean, Paris seems exciting, but what I meant was that it’s more about what Paris stands for. Making a choice that would change your life forever. Chasing your dreams, rather than someone else’s…” ”So who’s dream are you living?”

”W-what?” you stammered and twisted your entire upper body to look at Tae. He noticed your change in posture and put his brush down on the side table.

”You said so yourself. The thing keeping you from pursuing your dreams is the fear of letting someone else down.”

”That’s not what I said…” you said with a nervous, reassuring voice. You didn’t know if you were trying to reassure him or yourself.

”No, but I read between the lines.” Tae responded and winked an eye at you.

You felt like flipping him off, but you had better manners than that. Plus, you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction.

”Aren’t we all sculptured by society to live perfect lives, as long as we bring something to the table that improves society and not be a liability?” you said.

”So… slaving away on a full time job day in and day out, being miserable inside a cage ’til the end of our days is a good thing? But living outside of the cage; being poor, being free or… being an artist, is a liability to society?” Tae responded slowly, but with a stern voice. ”You’re taking the words out of my mouth…”

You felt very irritated, but mostly confused.

”Y/N… I’m just messing with you.” Tae said and gave you a warm smile.

You took a pillow from the bed and tossed it at him. ”You absolute shit.” you giggled.

”Hey, watch out for the painting! It’s finally done.”

”Can I see it?” you asked as you relaxed your legs into a tailor position.

”When it’s ready to be seen.”

”Stop being so damn mysterious!” you chuckled.

”I’m an artist… it’s my job.” he said and put the canvas on an easel he had hidden in a corner of the room. The painting was faced away from you, so you couldn’t even sneak a peak. This man surely enjoyed teasing you.

”I thought you were just an art student…” you teased back.

Tae scoffed at your comment, fully acknowledging your sarcastic tone.

”Your artist from your story… what does he look like?” he asked as he returned to his chair.

You smiled and looked at the window, your eyes fixed on your own reflection.

”It’s funny actually… I don’t know. I don’t have a face for him yet.”

”Is that so?” Tae commented, trying to hide a smirk on his face. ”I guess I haven’t come upon the right inspirational source yet.” you responded and looked back at Tae.

Suddenly you realized that you still hadn’t covered yourself up again. Your full upper body was still on display. A chill went down your spine and made you shiver.

”Are you okay?” Tae asked.

”I am fine. But I’m starting to get a bit cold.” you replied as you slowly reached for the shirt to pull it back up. You could feel his eyes burn on your body and looked up at him.

”Really?” he said and put his head back slightly as he met your gaze. It felt like he was staring right into your soul. He left his seat and slowly walked up to you. You could feel a gulp in your throat. ”Maybe I can help with that.” Was he for real?  

”That was a smooth line.” you admitted. Tae laughed.

”As smooth as my fingers?” he said as he softly drew his fingers up and down your arms.

The warmth from his fingers felt amazing on your skin. Your mouth started to water, and at the same time it felt dry. You didn’t care how exposed you were. The only thing you could focus on was the man in front of you. You couldn’t break your glance away from the big, brown puppy dog eyes that were staring down on your body, or his big luscious lips that were just a few inches away. You felt the hunger of wanting to taste them. The energy between the two of you intensified with every second as your heads slowly reached forward to one another. You got lost into his sweet touch and the sound of his heavy breathing didn’t make it easier. He rested his forehead on yours as he drew you closer. You grabbed hold of his arms and crumpled his shirt with your fists. You couldn’t take it anymore. Neither could he. Your lips slammed together with such force that you almost got hurt. You were both too caught up in the moment to acknowledge any pain, you just kept exploring each other with your tongues as sloppy tools. His hands traveled from your arms and back down to your front. He broke the kiss to draw two fingers down the middle of your chest. He followed his fingers with his gaze and you watched him taking all of you in. You could hardly fathom the fact that a beautiful man like Tae could look at you with such admiration. He looked back up at you and met your gaze. You could feel yourself going breathless as he leaned down to the side of your face. A shiver went down your spine as he opened his mouth to whisper something into your ear. His warm breath felt so good on your skin. You closed your eyes and listened to his soft words.

”I told you I’d let you know when I’d do your mouth.”

[qandnoablog]

Anomaly (Marvel Imagine)

Title: Discovered

Pairing: [In Progress]

Warnings: This part isn’t like my other ones since it doesn’t take place in any actual part of the Marvel movies. The scenes, however, are based on the movies - Thor Ragnarok Spider-Man: Homecoming

There will be some moments where a character will be experiencing a panic attack. Since this is based on my own experiences with panic attacks, I hope no one feels offended by how I describe it.

Part: 10, [9], [8], [7], [6], [5], [4], [3], [2], [1]

Key: Y/N - Your Name Y/L/N - Your Last Name

Word Count: 3,273

Summary: All seemed peaceful for [Y/N]. Everything had quieted down since her last adventure with Spider-Man. Little did she know, it was the calm before a storm.

Note From Author: Midterms are coming yet again and I wanted to post this before cramming like crazy! I’m sorry for making you all wait and I hope you enjoy this part!

Part 10 - Anomaly

It had been about a year since her encounter with Spider-Man.

[Y/N] had finally settled to life in New York, enjoying the lively atmosphere and often exploring around without too many worries. Her capture wasn’t exactly a priority, like Captain America or Wanda Maximoff would be, so she didn’t have to be wary of who could find her. In addition, Tony seemed to be helping behind the scenes, erasing any digital trail she may have left behind. She could never confirm his involvement, but she suspected it to be him nonetheless.

Spider-Man would visit frequently, the two sometimes just hanging out as he asked all kinds of questions about the Avengers. At first, he was so caught up with her new gloves that he sometimes forgot she even existed. He got so wrapped up, practically begging her to borrow it for closer examination, but it soon died down.

After that, he would go fight crime and she would sometimes tag along. Nothing too serious happened since then, so he could handle most of it alone. [Y/N] was just there for any damage control, helping him be more efficient during fights. Ned would sometimes also come over with Peter when the two needed a place to work on both actual school projects and other side “projects” without the watching eyes of their guardians. Overall, it was very peaceful.

Everything seemed to be going great until one day… Well, it was one of the worst days [Y/N] had experienced in her life.

The day started off normal. She had woken up early, a bit before her alarm, and was feeling energized to just go out and explore more of New York. Then, something completely unexpected happened.

While walking down the somewhat empty streets, the sun barely making its way up in the sky, a strange, orange glowing circle appeared on the ground around her. A bit panicked, the sparks of light dangerously close to her ankles, she jumped away from the center of the circle. Without someone in the middle of it, it quickle fizzled out and was gone.

What the hell?

She peered over at the empty sidewalk, examining it closely, but it showed no signs of charring from the odd occurance. Then, it happened again. The same circle appeared under her, but this time it was faster. [Y/N] felt gravity pull her down as the ground below her just vanished.

The sensation reminded her of the wormhole back on Sakaar, the flashes of memories jolting her with fear and adrenaline. Her breathing accelerated and her hair stood on end as power welled up inside her and exploded her upwards with incredible force, away from the portal. Just like before, the circle vanished when she no longer stood atop it.

No, no, no, no, no, [Y/N] chanted again and again.

Panic became hysteria as she trembled all over. The fact that she was completely exposing her abilities in public, regardless of the lack of people, didn’t even register in her mind. All she could think of was how she didn’t want to go back to that alien planet. There was no telling how long she’d be stuck in that wretched place again, if she was sent there at all. She might not even be able to return to Earth like last time. [Y/N] was lucky when Loki and Thor ended up there. If she got sent there again, it could possibly be forever. And, if the Grandmaster still ruled and remembered her, she wouldn’t be safe.

Take a breath. Panicking will get you nowhere. Breathe!

A few seconds passed by. Then a minute. After a couple of minutes of waiting the circle still did not reappear. Her breathing settled somewhat and her heartbeat returned to its normal pace. Though adrenaline still pulsed through her, making her uncomfortable with the excess energy, she was too scared to completely calm down.

It’s okay, she tried to tell herself, It could be nothing. Wormholes don’t usually appear in the middle of the ground, right?

But how was she supposed to know? That time on Sakaar, a wormhole just suddenly emerged and sucked her away from her friends and onto Earth. Thankfully, she ended up where she wanted to be, but that was a once-in-a-lifetime chance. Out of the infinite possibilities, it was highly unlikely that she would be that lucky again.

However, as she was carefully thinking about all her options while hovering in the air, those same sparks flew out to right beside her. The shock of it startled her so much that the hold on her powers faltered and she began to fall dangerously fast.

Shit!

It wasn’t a fatal height, but it was enough to do some serious damage. She braced for impact, her muscles tensing at the expected solid ground, but then the falling didn’t stop. [Y/N] could already surmise what had happened, the odd portal strangely targeting her, but she was too scared to open her eyes to confirm it. Still, the familiar feeling of nausea was enough for her to know what happened without seeing for herself.

I don’t want to go!

~

“Ah, you’re awake,” an unfamiliar voice called out as [Y/N] finally opened her eyes.

Everything was unfamiliar. The ceiling. The floor. The walls. The bed. Everything… They were all things she’d never seen before. Her heart raced as the events of what happened flooded back to her and her breathing became erratic. Tears filled her eyes and she couldn’t even focus on the person beside her. She couldn’t control her body as it trembled, her body feeling unnaturally cold as the blood drained from her. Reality was slipping from her and she began to hyperventilate, when something brushed against her hand.

“Shhh,” the stranger soothed, his gloved hand gently squeezing her own, “You’re alright. You’re okay. Just take a deep breath.”

[Y/N] finally turned to the speaker. Even he was unfamiliar. He had white streaks on both sides of his hair, contrasting with his normal full head of black. The lighting was dim, so it was hard to focus. Everything about him seemed elegant, but most importantly… Human. He appeared to be human. Though the thought should have reassured her, many people on Sakaar looked human. His clothes certainly didn’t resemble the fashion sense of Earth that she knew of. Still, not knowing was worse than knowing, since the imagination could be scarier than the truth. If she wanted to finally rid herself of this anxiety, she’d have to ask that dreaded, awful question.

“W-where…” She choked a bit, unable to form words as tears spilled from her eyes. Shuting them tight and taking in a breath, she tried again. “Where am I?”

“New York,” he answered, his stern features softening, “Earth, year 2017.”

It took her a moment for the words to sink in. New York. 2017. Earth.

[Y/N]’s body crumpled back in relief and the tears flooded like a broken dam. She covered her face in her hands, unable to stop herself from crying as the fear of being on another alien planet eased away from her. Sobs escaped from her as the sounds filled the near silent room. The man beside her just sat there, patiently waiting for her.

She wasn’t back on Sakaar. She wasn’t trapped on a foreign planet. She wasn’t sent to another place in time. She was still in New York. She was still on Earth.

It surprised [Y/N] how much the many years stranded on Sakaar had damaged her. Of course it was a scarring experience, but it never hindered her this much over the years she had returned to Earth. The memories resurfaced from time to time, often in the form of a nightmare, but they never bothered her to this extent.

“Who are you?” [Y/N] asked when she finally cooled down and recalled that she wasn’t alone in this strange room. Her eyes were still red and most likely puffy from all the crying, but he didn’t seem to mind. In fact, he was very calm, which helped her to feel a bit more at peace.

“My name is Doctor Stephen Strange.”

~

“You’re a what?”

Stephen had finished explaining where she was, why she was here, and how he had brought her there. He seemed to think that all of this was quite easy to comprehend, but a world of magic was just a bit difficult to believe. If he was categorized as a god or an alien, perhaps it would have been easier, but him being a normal human… Now that was hard to wrap her head around.

“I am the master of the mystic arts,” he repeated, “and I brought you here because I sensed an anomaly around you.”

“Look, Mister-”

“Doctor,” Strange interrupted her, adamant on getting that title across.

“Doctor,” she corrected, a bit drained from everything that went on, “I just experienced hell and now you want me to believe all this magic stuff?”

Honestly, she wanted to be mad. She wanted to be furious and throw a tantrum at the man who had caused her so much distress, but she was also tired. She was so exhausted due to all the change that went through her life, every bad experience just crashing back on her in that moment of hopelessness, that she just couldn’t muster up the energy to fight this man. He was a stranger to her. It was fine to leave it at that, wasn’t it?

“I just want to go home. Maybe take a nap. Can I go now?”

“Miss [Y/L/N],” the man replied, his expression serious and unchanging, “I keep tabs on everything that may be a threat to this world, but when you entered my city, there was just something off.”

“Off?” [Y/N] couldn’t even gather enough energy to feel offended.

“It’s as if the time around you is distorted,” Stephen clarified, trying to keep it simple so as to not confuse her. It didn’t really work.

Noticing her blank expression, he waved a hand in front of her, and a strange tingle prickled at her. She looked down at her own arms and noticed something rippling off her skin in almost transparent waves. It felt a bit odd, and she tried to touch whatever it was, but her hands just phased through them.

“W-what the-? What is this?” [Y/N] questioned, goosebumps forming at the intangibility of it.

“Thirty… No, twenty… Eight?” He muttered as he examined the ripples, his hand resting under his chin in thought, “Yes. Twenty-eight.”

“Excuse me?”

“You are off this timeline by twenty-eight years.”

It was then that it clicked. [Y/N] now knew exactly what he meant by off and anomaly. She didn’t know how he knew, but it seemed he was talking about her years on Sakaar. Still, she didn’t know this man. In fact, because of the stunt he just pulled, she didn’t trust him either. Why should she answer any of his questions?

“Ah, so that’s what happened,” Stephen nodded before she could even say a word. He leaned back in his chair, taking a sip of tea that seemed to appear out of thin air. “Well, nothing I can do about that. Strange, but harmless. I apologize for wasting your time.”

“Wait-”

But before she could finish, everything around her blurred. In the blink of an eye, a room full of old books, ancient artifacts, and elegant decor was replaced with the busy, bustling streets of New York. People walked around her, not even noticing that she had appeared out of nowhere.

She felt a bit queasy, the feeling of being transported from one location to another making her recall those wormholes and portals, but she swallowed back the nausea and blinked a couple more times. The sun was now high in the sky, showing how much time had passed. Its bright light made her eyes sting, since they had been adjusted to the dim lighting of that strange room. Shaking off the sick feeling, she gave up the idea of getting answers and simply let the matter drop.

“I really hate magic,” she grumbled, her mood fouled by the whole event as she finally arrived home and flopped onto her bed.

“Now that seems a bit harsh,” a coy voice whispered into her ear, making her jump back in alarm.

The man who stood before her was all too familiar. The years didn’t erase the memory of him, the image etched into her brain from all the rage she had felt for him that day. Without thinking on it for another second, her fist flew towards him, aimed directly at his face. However, her hand merely phased through the figure, his nose uninjured, as she stumbled forward from the lack of impact.

“Hello to you too, [Y/N].”

“Go to Hell, Loki.”

~

“Yes, the second-rate sorcerer,” Loki huffed, his brows furrowing slightly at the memory, “I must remember to pay him back someday.”

[Y/N] had given in once she realized he would not leave her alone.

He had sent a copy of himself onto Earth, admiring the “foolish actions of Midgardians” whenever he was bored, when he had happened upon her. Of course he was not looking for her, not even knowing that she was back on Earth and not with Thor, but he couldn’t pass up this opportunity to mess with her. Besides, he had some free time.

“You know Doctor Strange?”

She had known Loki for a few weeks back on Sakaar and though their relationship was far from friendship, it wasn’t as small as an acquaintanceship. They grew to tolerate one another, especially in the face of the Grandmaster, so of course they could hold a conversation. However, that became a bit awkward after Loki’s little mind tricks he had casted around the time of Thor’s arrival on the alien planet. Still, she hadn’t seen him in years. If she couldn’t forgive this god, then she could at least hold out so that she could find out how Thor was doing after all this time.

“We had a brief encounter,” he scowled at the memory and quickly pushed it aside before it could ruin his good mood, “but enough about me. I’m more curious on why you’re on Earth and not with my brother.”

“Wait, are you with him right now?” [Y/N] asked, sitting up on her bed and following Loki with her eyes as he wandered around her apartment.

“No, I am with a more… Rambunctious bunch,” he chuckled a bit dryly, clearly unamused by the company around him, wherever he may be. “Just some rebels rallied together to go help save Asgard from Ragnarok.”

That made her freeze. She had forgotten that she had been thrown back in time from that day on Sakaar. In Thor’s perspective, she must have been sucked up by that wormhole just mere minutes or hours ago. Not even a day must have passed by since then.

“Okay,” [Y/N] said, nodding as she took it all in. He was curious when he examined her reactions, but wasn’t too interested on what was buzzing through her head. As he was hundreds of years older than any Midgardian, he assumed her thoughts were just as insignificant. “So that means Thor made it off of Sakaar, right?”

“Of course,” the God of Mischief was a bit confused. Her question didn’t quite make sense to him and he didn’t like feeling left in the dark. With that, he decided return to his previous question. “Why are you on Earth?”

At first, [Y/N] was quiet. She wasn’t sure whether or not she should tell Loki about what had happened. First of all, she didn’t like him. Though her feelings towards him weren’t quite hatred, they weren’t very pleasant. Giving this god information was like arming him for battle. Secondly, [Y/N] enjoyed that slight bit of annoyance that shone on his face. It wasn’t a big win but she considered it one nonetheless.

After a while, [Y/N] finally gave in and decided to tell him everything. She took a gamble and prayed that he would pass on the information to Thor. He must have been worried about her since she was suddenly taken away. There wasn’t a day that went by that she wasn’t anxiously thinking back on what had happened after that day. Now that Loki was here, during the time where the battle against Hela was upon them, she desperately wanted Thor to know that she was alright and that he didn’t have to concern himself about her. His focus should go solely to his safety and his people. She didn’t want to hinder that.

“I see,” was all Loki said.

He looked bored, silently listening to her ramble on, but she had studied him enough to read him to a certain extent. Though his face portrayed indifference, his eyes sparked as calculations and thoughts raced through his mind. [Y/N] couldn’t decipher too much, she wasn’t a mind reader after all, but she knew he cared enough to hear her story out. Or at least he cared enough about the information she presented to listen carefully. Hopefully, he would pass on this message to Thor. That was all she could ask for.

Seconds turned to minutes as the silence continued. Surprisingly, the noiseless atmosphere wasn’t as awkward as one would have expected. The two of them were actually used to this, their days in Sakaar making any moment of quiet more blissful than stiff. Then, Loki looked up and glanced at what seemed to be an empty wall.

“Oh, looks like we’ve arrived,” Loki murmured, his image rippling as the main body stirred.

More and more of him started to disappear and for some reason, something within [Y/N] stirred.

“Loki!”

She called out without thinking. When he stopped fading, returning to a more solid image, and turned to her, more surprised than amused, she nervously bit her lower lip.

“Just…”

[Y/N] hesitated. She didn’t want him to know she was worried, given that she was still very mad at him, but she couldn’t let these words just be bottled up within her. Regret would consume her if something happen to him in this upcoming battle. They weren’t exactly friends, but how could she, in good conscience, let a man going off into a bloody battle go without settling debts?

If it wasn’t for him and his brother, she would have never escaped the confinements of Sakaar. Though she couldn’t forgive him completely for making her feel so humiliated that time he had forced her to spill her secrets, she still felt grateful to him for bringing a bit of Earth back to her. It must have been a small thing for him to share but to her… It granted her a sliver of hope.

“Just…” She took in a deep breath, steeling her nerves, and looked him in the eyes. Showing no weakness and only speaking the genuine truth, she finished her sentence. “Don’t die.”

His eyes widened, clearly not expecting those words to ever be directed at him.

“Well, not before I can kill you, anyways,” [Y/N] added with a grin.

A few seconds passed, something clearly happening where his true body was since his image kept flickering, and then, Loki smiled. Though it was that mischievous, signature smile of his, there was a glint that shone in his eyes before he faded away, leaving [Y/N] all alone in her little apartment.

Author’s Note: I’ll be taking a break from writing any more parts. Though a large part has to do with college and my daily life, I’ll mostly be on hiatus until after Avengers 4 is released so I can make the next few parts (which will be based on Infinity War) as accurate as possible. Thank you for sticking with me and enjoying my works! I hope you all will be patient and still want to read Discovered when I return!

[PART 11]

Tags: @themeanestlittlewitch  @stressedandbandobessed7771 @moistpotatobear @fxckingfat​

[peacefulwriter88]

One That Got Away - Chapter 3

Steve Rogers x OFC Ariadne Bellamy

Chapter 3: Fool Me Once...

Universe: Marvel Canon

Rating: M for Mature (Language, Sexual tones eventual)

“You had what!?”

If one was listening really hard, beyond the sound of low chatter and laughter, the sound of glasses tinkling as they were refreshed with new beverages, they could hear the distinct voice of Nel Descarte before he took a sip out of his own glass of champagne, hand mid grab from the shrimp roll he was about to snatch from a waiters tray.

Nel was handsome in the kind of elite, New York gay art curator way one would suspect. His dark sage suit clung to his copper toned body perfectly, his sinewy frame built out in the fabric. His dark, lustrous hair was gelled back perfectly, his eyebrows trimmed and his hands manicured accentuated by the expensive watch on his wrist. It was Friday night and Sotheby’s Annual Newcomer Gallery had kicked off for the season and Nel, an art curator, had pressed that Ellie and I join him.

He was an old friend of ours, Nel. We had met at NYU our freshman year and the three of us had been as thick as thieves ever since. Ellie had jumped on the opportunity of attending despite her blasé attitude about art - I had been out most of the week and she was getting a bit stir crazy from being at home alone. Ellie, the natural homebody, had taken the opportunity to throw on a simple black sweater dress to compliment the natural curves of her plush body, matching heeled boots to set off the lock. Her wavy brown and gold hair sparkled in the light and like everything else Ellie did, her makeup was immaculate. She giggles into her own glass, her long eyelashes tickling her cheeks as her eyes jump between Nel and I.

“Steve Rogers, the actual Captain America, was making it all but apparent that he was into her and this one over here closed him down.”

Nel looks at me, again, shaking his head and tsking.

“You wasted all of that great potential on what? Principal? Lady love – you don’t allow fate to step in to just push it away.”

I shift my eyes to the portrait we had walked to before, tightening the red shawl that I had loosely thrown around my shoulders closer to me. It was in that moment I wished I had kept my blazer to cover the thin straps of my ivory blouse, to cover up the low v-line of the silk shirt but I had come over to meet the pair straight from work and didn’t want to look business professional. It was bad enough I was stuck with my pencil skirt. So I opted for the shawl that Ellie had brought with her and used it as coverage from my friends judging eyes.

In all reality, I didn’t want to think about Steve Rogers. The whole meeting had gotten underneath my skin more than I cared to acknowledge. The fact of the matter was, Steve was an interesting man. Beyond his obvious handsome features and kind eyes, he had an allure of mystery behind him, this inquisitive knowledge that I wanted to dive into and get to know more and I didn’t know why. Perhaps because of his boldness.

There was something about a man that knew what he wanted and went for it that always got under my skin. Especially if I was the object of that affection.

Which was why, hours later, I had been pissed to realize I let a good thing like that walk out of my life. Having Ellie, and now Nel, remind me of it wasn’t going to help my self-loathing.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” I mumble underneath my breath, taking a long sip of champagne, keeping my eyes focused on the art piece in front of us.  

“You don’t want to talk about? Well tough titty honey,” Nel swipes two new glasses just as I’m throwing back the rest of the one I was sipping, exchanging my empty glass for a full one, “You can’t have someone as fine and respective as Steve Rogers hit on you and not expect me to pry.”

I chuckle underneath my breath, shaking my head as I turn to him

“Ellie said it all,” another sip. “Apparently Captain America was hitting on me and I froze up like a goddamn Popsicle.”

Nel watches me speculatively as we move on to a new painting. Its complete trash – literally – it's things that people have thrown away in trash cans glued onto a canvas and then painted over. Ellie squints at it, puckering her red lips before deciding to chug the rest of her champagne and look for another glass and I try to ignore the piercing gaze from Nel. Because I know exactly what he’s thinking.

I never freeze. Not when it comes to a man – an attractive man I am highly attracted to. I was the queen of being a heartbreaker. Not the other way around.

Not usually.

I couldn’t explain to him how it felt different looking into Steve’s baby blues. He had a quiet fierceness to them, a timely knowledge that I felt stripped me to my bare existence. There was more to him than a chiseled face and a need to save the world. More than that shy, golden boy charm that made others swoon. There was something else, I couldn’t put my finger on it and I didn’t like that I couldn’t.

He might actually be a fair match to me.

“You sure it wasn’t all those muscles on top of muscles that got you all tongue tied?” Nel finally asks, his eyes still unwavering and I scoff, looking over at him.

“What do we think of this piece?” I opt to redirect his attention but he doesn’t fall for it. Instead he looks over at it, mimics my earlier scoff, and then returns his attention to me.

“I tire of fake modern artist trying to re-invent modern art.”

“Why? Because it’s not an 18th century French scenic landscape?” I counter and he narrows his eyes at me, shaking his head.

“Don’t come at a champion when you’re still a trainee baby girl.”

“C’mon Ariadne, you know Nel got over that French phase the minute he stopped fucking French boys.” Ellie chimes in, reading the tension and trying to dispel it. I can’t help the laughter that escapes my lips as I wink and nod at her, ignoring the dramatic way Nel cover his heart as he looks between the both of us.

“Don’t make this about me. I’m still grieving Pierre.”

“It’s been three days.” Ellie says pointedly and I nod.

“Three long days….” I echo and he rolls his eyes.

“Don’t make this about me Ariadne. Don’t shift the subject because you were the one too afraid to give the Captain your digits.”

I sigh and move on to the next painting, ignoring the way Nel’s voice trails out after me though he doesn’t follow. He was right of course. So was Ellie. Maybe I was a bit mournful and thus dramatic that I had been a spaz but it didn’t matter. Things always moved in the universe with good reason. I was a year ripe out of my last relationship. Travelled a lot for work. Was trying to help plan my brother and his bride to be’s wedding. The last thing I thought I needed was to get involved with an international celebrity and defender of our planet.

I walk toward the bar, because even though the champagne’s expensive it’s not hitting the spot like I’d want it too. I needed something smooth and bitter…..grey goose vodka with a spritz of lemon and an olive for that extra bite. Ellie had spent the week teasing me about the love story that I could have had and more importantly, the love story she could have had with the Captain’s best friend. Not Sam she made a point to say, Sam was more Nel’s type whatever the fuck that meant. She was bitter I didn’t get closer to Steve to hook her up with Bucky.

Which anyone else might find selfish but I couldn’t hate her for. If the tables were turned, and I wasn’t a closed up clam, I’d probably be the same about Steve.

I’m so lost in thought though, placing my empty glass on the counter that I almost miss him.

He doesn’t miss me.

“Ariadne, right?”

Sam’s voice is smooth like the chocolate skin that covers his body, his irises just a few shades deeper. He has kind eyes, eyes that’s seen too much of the world but refuses to be let down by it. From the little I picked up at breakfast he was light hearted, funny, but knew how to pull out wisdom from humor and I could see why Steve and him were so close.

He was a good compliment to his fairer friend.

“Sam ‘the Falcon’ Wilson…..who would’ve guessed it.”

I lean in for a hug though I don’t know why – we weren’t longtime friends – but Sam doesn’t care and hugs me back earnestly.

“What are you getting?”

I smile as I lean into the bar,

“Extra dry slightly dirty martini.”

“Classy woman,” he signals for the waiter before returning his attention back to me. “What brings you out to such an elite event tonight? You don’t strike me as an art show kind of girl.”

I give a mock scoff though I can’t help the laugh that bubbles out, shaking my head and biting my lip.

“First, I’m a woman – not a girl,” the low oooee that escapes his mouth attracts a little attention as I turn, leaning against the bar and watching my friends who have already forgotten about me, “And secondly, just because I can easily write out the best predictions for next week’s football games – and will probably be 80% right – doesn’t mean I’m not also refined and enjoy on reflecting about nice pieces of art.”

I don’t mean to come off cocky but I knew the things I was good at in life and I hated when men in particular didn’t think I could balance like sports and….being a woman? I don’t know but it’s a trigger, Sam gives an interesting look my way before saying,

“My bad I meant no harm in it.”

We stare each other down, not wavering until Sam cracks a smile, causing the dam of laughter to escape from the both of us.

“I see, I see, you’re pushing your personal biases onto me. I get it. Getting judged as a black female sports writer isn’t what I experience every day of my life.”

“Of course I am. Isn’t that what the man teaches us to do, to deflect our insecurities onto others?” He grabs the bartender’s attention, again, waving them over and quickly ordering before returning his attention back to me.  

“I guess they do. Really though, what brings you here? Not to be rude but you don’t strike me as the artist and gallery hopping type.”

He chuckles underneath his breath, nodding before saying,

“Touché. Honestly a friend. I come to support the art and in return I get free drinks,” our drinks arrive just on cue and he careful hands me mine before grabbing his beer, “I have no idea what’s going on most of the time. Or what art I’m looking at.”

I nod as I take a sip, drink in his attire.

“Well you look superb. That’s half of the journey at places like this,” another chuckle out of him, “But to be fair this isn’t that kind of gallery. Occasionally Sotheby’s will host these amateur nights….opportunities for art curators to check out fresh new talent. See if it’s anything they’d be interested in. If so, both parties gain something, a new partnership and new art. If not, there’s always next month.”

Sam eyes glint with something akin to understanding,  that flicker when things start to come together as his mouth shapes into an O.

“Oooooo that makes sooo much sense. I’ve been wondering why I get dragged to these things so often.”

He takes a sip out of his beer, furrowing his eyebrows,

“So you might know a thing or two about art?”

I give a nonchalant shrug, grabbing my drink.

“Maybe a thing or two.”

He nods his head, raising his brows as he looks over at me,

“So… you mind teaching me a thing or two? It would be nice to impress my friend for once; he thinks I never pay attention to these things.”

“Because you don’t.” I counter and he laughs.

“C’mon. I’m trying to pay attention now.”

I give a deep sigh, looking back over at Ellie and Nel who were looking at another painting, un-phased by my disappearing act.

“Why not. I’m a bit over my friends as it is for the moment.”

He offers his arm and smiles at me,

“Perfect.”

Sam Wilson was probably one of the funniest people I have met in a long time.  While I tried to talk him through technique, stroke styles (that phrase I regretted every time it escaped my mouth) and influence he made light of the subject matter, always asking what I would be willing to pay for it. Despite his banter, he was also picking up on some things, and it’s through my second martini that he moves beyond pricing points and more about the themes of the paintings. His interests grow more and more so that by the time we make it to the last painting in the section we are in, we both do so in agreed silence, trying to read the piece.

It’s a painting of a couple leaning into each other, backs to the audience in a tight embrace. They are looking out into the city – a Central Park Manhattan view, with the landscape of skyscrapers evolving through time. Some older, dirtier, industrial influenced carried until a modern time, airplanes flying in the sky and the clean gleam of skyscrapers with current, modern businesses embroidered into the buildings. I can’t see the couples faces but there’s something about it, something that makes me feel…

“Melancholic.” The words pepper out of me as I walk forward to it, drinking in the strokes of the drawing, the careful way each line has been crafted, oil spread. It’s a large painting, about the width of your standard bookcase almost the height of a door but the size just helps lends to the effect of the scene. Dark, gritty with the precipice of hope at its helm. I tell as much to Sam and he nods slowly, his dark eyes looking at me curiously as he asks,  

“What else?”

“It makes me sad initially but also hopeful. That there’s greatness in the things that are lost in time and the couple willing to be embraced by it  and it makes me wonder what they think. Why are they stuck in time, unchanging, unmoved, forced to watch time change and unable to change with it. The only security is not being alone….it’s beautiful. Really. A really talented artist must have invested a lot of time into it.”

“Oh he did…”

Sam chuckles as I snap my head to him and ask,

“You know who drew this?”

“Yea of course I do. It’s my buddy who keeps entering these things….”

I raise an eyebrow, moving back to look at him.

“He’s entered pieces like this and no one hasn’t asked him to create more….this is top of the line. Far better than a lot of the things here that are just asking and begging to be selected, to scream that they are not alone, to show that they are original. You telling me that he’s rejected big shot names just to continue to submit paintings?”

Sam laughs, taking a long sip of his beer.

“Yeah.”

I watch him, before returning my eyes back at the drawing. Trying to understand the artist by trying to understand the art. The way the hand of the man clutches the woman, almost squeezing her as it appears her hand falls lightly on his. The way she leans into him gently and I can imagine her calming him, assuring him it’s okay. Women adapted a lot better than men, they must, they carry life and it’s the only way to guarantee that life will move on. It’s all here, in this frame, fear and uncertainty and insecurity that is hidden behind confidence, ease.

“Your friend must want to be heard. To share what he’s unable to say then. Not a starving artist by choice, but a selective artist because he wants to breath truth. But for who…it’s hard to say.”

Sam leans in a bit.

“What do you mean?” he’s looking at the painting again, deeply like me and I take another sip.

“I can’t tell if the artist is trying to unveil some truth about human experience for other humans, or trying to unpack their experiences, trying to grapple with what were all trying to understand I’m being human. I don’t know…seems complicated this piece. Is the artist complicated?”

“Like a goddamn rubix cube,” Sam mutters but now his eyes are drinking it in. “I just thought it was about the loss of things.”

“Sure it’s about loss. But there’s something deeper. There’s not sorrow over this loss or change. There’s fear and maybe a sprinkle of sadness but not sorrow. There’s an understanding that things flow differently – they change and you can’t fight it. And the artist is trying to understand what that means for the world. What it means for them. Its complex…..it makes you question things. It’s making me question things. Which is why it’s melancholic. But what do I know…I just get trashed helping my friend select painting I think would be good for his gallery.”

I shrug as I take another sip stepping backwards. So focused on the painting that I hadn’t realized that someone has walked up behind me, until my backs pressed into their chest and I lean my head back, resting my head against the defined muscles as my eyes fall into ocean blue orbs.

Oh.

Steve Rogers was dangerous in his star spangled uniform. Was even more achingly attractive in street clothes.

Nothing could have warned me for this man in a suit.

It’s not even a full suit, nice pressed pants. A nice, crisp dark blue shirt that did wonders for his eyes. A simple black tie.

It’s enough to make my breath hitch, to cause me to squeeze my thighs together so I’m not unloading a gallon of my attraction onto the gallery floor. I’m flustered as he captures me easily, steadying me and the arm that holds my martini as his other hand finds my hip. The vodka is strong, it allows his cologne to overwhelm my senses and to allow myself to relax under his touch, to fall back onto him with ease as my eyes drink in his chiseled jawline and his pulse point from beating against his neck. I wanted to mark him, to claim him for my own and the thought jostles me.

“Oh! I’m sorry…I didn’t mean to….”

I’m at a loss for words, again, as I blink up at him stupidly but he simply smiles back at me gently, eyes unwavering as his hand that isn’t on my hips slowly trails up my arm, causing goosebumps in its wake.

Shit. Too much vodka. I had too much fucking vodka and champagne in my system for this kind of intimate touch.

“Don’t worry about it. Not every day I get to run into a beautiful woman twice in one week.”

His voice is low and light, humorous and gravely and I bite my lip subconsciously, causing his eyes to flicker down to it before they are returning to my own.

I’m sure I had fuck me eyes all over my face and the realization makes me blush, embarrassed out of my goddamn mind. Drunk flirting with Steve Rogers wasn’t going to make my self-pity cause any better.

“I’m really not this high maintenance. I was just admiring this.” my eyes flash back toward the painting.

He smiles, his eyes breaking from mine and looking over at the painting and nods.

“I heard.”

“Y…you did?” I force myself to push my forehead off his chest, from the confines of his arms. Away from him and though I still feel like I’m swimming I’m able to steady my mind, trying to push the smell of his cologne from my memory and clear my throat.

“Super soldier hearing.” Sam says, rolling his eyes though he smiles at me and I narrow my eyes at him. He knew. He fucking knew the whole damn time that Steve was lurking.

This was a goddamn set up.

“You have an artist eye. You sure you aren’t a curator. Or a secret artist?”

Steve is still too close to me, his arms brushing against my own and I shrug, shaking my head.

“No, no, not even if I tried. But I have this good friend of mine, and he works for the Met and he really knows his shit and you know he’s taught me a thing or two.”

“Just a thing or two?” he raises a speculative eye before another deeper voice booms across the space.

“Steve! Sam! There you are.”

The man that strolls over is tall, about as tall as Steve and Sam. In this space, with its suits and nice dresses, he stands out with the dark Henley he’s rolled up to his elbows, dark jeans to match. His hair is longer than Steve’s, brushing against his neckline and his beard is in a scruff, cool blue eyes dancing between our group. I would be lying if i didn’t say that James “Bucky” Barnes wasn’t attractive. He was the kind of charming bad boy that i wanted to get under your skin for a few months and then let each other loose for both your sanity.

I could see easily why Ellie was attracted to him.

“Well, well, well, who do we have here?” his voice is huskier than Steve’s, smoother and has a twist of charming wickedness as he smiles down at me. It makes my heart palpitate for a few seconds, makes my breath hitch a second.

This man would destroy Ellie.

….I needed their pairing to happen.

“Steve, you didn’t tell me you were going to leave to go flirt with some cute dame.”

“Oh brother.” Sam snorts, finishing his beer and rolling his eyes as I extend my hand out,

“You must be the famous Winter Soldier.”

He flinches from the words, but doesn’t skip a beat to grab my hand, his lips skimming against the sensitive flesh as a smile stays on his face,  

“Must be. And who are you?”

I take a sip out of my martini, finishing the last drip as I pull my hand away,

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

He raises an eyebrow, looking over at Steve who is watching curiously.

“She’s a fireball.” He says, amused and Steve nods in agreement,

“She’s something.”

“And she’s also still standing in front of you. Now you’re boring me and I’m out of a drink. So maybe work on that game of yours while I go and get another.”

I walk away, aware that they are both staring at me, trying my best to keep up my most confident stride despite the alcohol swimming in my body.

How did I go from no prospects in my morning to three handsome men in the evening?

The universe had a funny way with playing with my heart.

Tag List:  @ssweet-empowerment@capsofwinchesters@tacohead13@harleycativy@pietrotheavenger@francezka10@papichulosebastian@obsessionsofmynerdheart@melaninmarvel@avengedqueen26@nasteaxluvgal@winterbuttmunch@nys30@buckyslongasshair@ohlumi @wellthirsted @gifsbysimplysonia