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fluttering-lillies · 9 months

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Afterparty Chapter 1: Rainbow

Words: 3,696 Pairing: SunDash Rating: T Warnings: Talk of excessive drinking, mentions of sex

-- Rainbow Dash could only feel her head throbbing. Slowly the rest of her sluggish, heavy body filtered into consciousness. Her legs and feet came into focus next. They ached too and she vaguely remembered her moves on Pinkie's living room turned dance floor. Heh. She'd torn it up, even drunk. It seemed she was finally paying for all that awesomeness now. She gripped her pounding head and managed to croak out a single, groaning syllable. “Ughhh…”

After a solid half minute, Rainbow pulled her hands from her head. Something briefly kept her hand and hair together, something sticky, then it broke apart. Rainbow examined the substance on the tips of her fingers. She guessed it was alcohol or maybe soda. A little bit gross but not alarming. She’d just wash up in the bathroom. When she actually managed to get up.

Rainbow Dash didn’t rush for once, she simply lay there and let her mind slowly sort through the sensations the rest of her body was sending. Her limbs and chest brushed freely against the sheets and blankets atop her. She registered for the briefest moments that she was naked, then forgot about it. She usually slept naked. Though if more than just her friends were in the house, she'd probably need to get dressed before leaving… whatever room this was. Getting up was first priority though.

She’d only squinted through her blurry eyes thus far and when she tried to open them more, a hissing came unbidden from the back of her throat. Her hand shot up, blocking out the small knives of light stabbing through the blinds. She didn't really get much of an idea of what was around her as she covered her eyes with one hand and held her head with the other.

"Fuck." She said softly as the pounding in her head eased just the slightest bit. Still, that barely helped and her entire body worked together, rebelling and making it clear she should never do whatever she did last night again. Well, she could remember the drinking, but not much else. "I think this might be my worst hangover like... ever."

She started to reach forward, feel her way out of the bed and onto her feet. She hurt like hell, but knew that the best way to deal with this was water and maybe some food if she could keep that down. Plus, clothes. She needed clothes. She had to keep some decency at least.

As she started shifting off the bed, she heard something to her right. A rustling, then a groan. Feminine but low. Then a swear. From a voice she recognized.

Her first thought was that she'd hooked up last night. Which. Nice. Her second sluggish thought as she started turning around to look at the other girl in the bed was 'Oh. Shit. I hooked up with one of my friends.'

She recognized the red hair and blonde streaks immediately, and when Sunset Shimmer poked her head up from under the covers, Rainbow Dash's eyes got wide and her slow, lazy pulse caught up to her rapidly spinning brain.

Sunset seemed to go through a similar process as her, opening her eyes, covering her eyes, swearing, but her hangover wake up process was interrupted by Dash's voice. "Yo."

Sunset didn't startle. She was much too out of it for that. She simply turned, propping herself up slowly with an elbow. The blanket slipped down her shoulder, exposing one of her breasts. Dash tried not to think about that, or look. Sunset's confused, then concerned expression gave her plenty to stare at. "Dash?" She said. Then. "Dash." Then. "Oh. Sh-shit. Dash."

Sunset's eyes were wide, then squinting as more light pierced them. "Did... did we?" She said as she brought a hand up to her eyes again.

Dash sat up completely. Her head and stomach protested in equal measure. "I... I don't know," she said. Which was technically true. She remembered dancing with Sunset. Grinding against her maybe? Not much else. She remembered the stickiness on her hand. Whatever the fluid was, it was clear. Her eyes wandered over to Sunset, then down to her crotch, covered by blankets. "I mean-"

The door burst open with a loud sing song, "Helllooooo~"

Sunset and Dash both cringed and covered their ears. Pinkie was at the door, mixing a bowl of something in her hands. "If you aren’t—“ She stopped, looking between Dash and Sunset.

"Oh! There you are! I was wondering where you two ended up after you started making out on the couch last night." Pinkie started stirring the bowl in her arms again. "We have water, coffee, and milk downstairs, and pancakes should be ready soon. Take your time though. I know you both went pretty hard last night." She grabbed the door and started to close it, then popped her head back in.

"Oh! And wash the sheets please! Thaaaat is my parents bed. And like. I get that sometimes you just gotta fuck, but you both were pretty loud so I'm kinda just assuming you made a mess. And uh... don't exactly wanna explain sticky sheets to my parents, y'know?" Pinkie made a face, nose and eyes scrunching closer together. Then she finally stepped out, door closing behind her.

The confirmation didn't jog Rainbow Dash's memory much. She did remember something warm against her mouth, a tongue against her own, but that was it.

Sunset didn't seem much clearer on things either, looking between Dash and the door, baffled and speechless. Their eyes met when Sunset looked her way again, and as soon as they did Dash’s gaze flashed back to the floor. The world spun a little bit as she did, and as nausea rose she could feel heat doing the same, pooling in her cheeks. Questions about where this left her relationship with Sunset started bubbling to the forefront.

They didn't get far though. The wall of pain in her head stopped them with a chaotic, skittering crash. She put a hand to her head, another to her eyes. She was too hungover for this shit.

"Look," Rainbow said to the floor instead of Sunset, but who else could it be for? "Can we talk about… whatever the fuck that was later. I need- I need water. And food. And Tylenol."

"Sounds good." Sunset replied, her voice hoarse and low.

Dash didn't need any more response than that. She stood. Something stabbed into her skull, then flipped her stomach. Her head swam and she almost sat right back down.

Instead she swayed there for a bit, until her whole form steadied enough to support itself. She bent down and grabbed her clothes, skipping the bra. When dressed she headed for the door. Each step wasn't particularly fun, but she managed to drag herself there. She smelled cooking pancakes as she stepped into the hallway. That and... was that bacon? Her mouth watered, and her rumbling stomach carried her the rest of the way. Down the stairs and into a seat at Pinkie Pie's family dining room table.

Applejack was already there, coffee in hand and head down, hat over her eyes. She looked at Dash for a second, but didn't say anything, only waved weakly in greeting. When Sunset came down the stairs a minute or so later, Applejack looked up again, and this time her eyes darted from Sunset, to Rainbow, and back. Still, she said nothing, and only waved to Sunset as well.

They heard Pinkie in the kitchen say something. Someone responded but Rainbow didn't catch their voice. She only knew someone else spoke because Pinkie responded a moment later.

After that there were some steps, a twisted door handle, and Fluttershy walked into the room, looking tired, but not in horrible aching pain. "Hi girls..." She said softly, which to Dash was a feat all its own. Her head hurt too much to say anything right now.

True to that fact, no one at the table responded to the greeting with words, just waves and in Sunset's case, a slight groan. Fluttershy didn't seem to mind. She just sat down and waited like the rest of them.

Pinkie came in next, two plates piled high with food in her hands. One was stacked with fluffy warm pancakes and the other was a pile of crispy, still sizzling bacon. The table was already set, including syrup and butter, so Dash started reaching for food, not really thinking about manners until Fluttershy thanked Pinkie and the other two girls followed her example.

In lieu of a thank you, Rainbow Dash spoke as she shoved a piece of bacon into her mouth. "Pinkie Pie. You're a goddess."

That seemed to be an appropriate substitute because Pinkie smiled and held up a hand in front of her like it was a notebook. "Something to drink, ladies?"

"Coffee." Sunset said.

"Just water." Fluttershy said as she spread butter on a pancake.

"Water." Dash said. Then she swallowed her bacon and added. "And Tylenol." Then after she grabbed more bacon, but before she could shove it in her mouth. "Please."

Sunset and AJ seconded that request and Pinkie made another note directly into her pink hand. "Alright. Comin' right up!" Her voice was too loud for Dash's headache, but she'd cooked them breakfast and delivered it to them, so Dash wasn't about to complain.

"Oh!" Pinkie snapped back around right before she walked through the kitchen doorway again. "Shy and Sunny I've got veggie sausage patties too. Those will be out soon."

Fluttershy and Sunset thanked her, and she really went to go get drinks this time.

There was only chewing for a while, but halfway through her pancake, Fluttershy asked to the table. "Where are Rarity and Twilight?”

"Rares is in the bathroom. Has been since she woke up twenty or so minutes ago. She came out here, saw me, and immediately walked down the hall and locked herself in there. She did look a right mess, but I don't know why she thinks me or Pinkie would care. Twilight, I don't know." Applejack said it all to her plate, but with food in their stomachs they could probably manage small talk if not eye contact.

Fluttershy looked over at Sunset, then Rainbow. "Have either of you seen her?"

They both responded negative and Dash watched as Fluttershy frowned.

"She's a big girl, Shy. If this were her first Pinkie party I'd be more concerned, but she's been hanging with us for almost a year now and she's like you, not that big into alcohol." Dash assured her.

Fluttershy nodded, but still looked mildly concerned.

They went back to silent eating for a couple minutes, until Rarity and Pinkie stepped into the room at the same time. Pinkie was carrying several glasses of ice water, a bottle of Tylenol, and a mug of what was presumably coffee. Rarity's hair was a little frizzy, but other than that she looked completely put together, eyeliner winged, blemishes concealed, even a light coating of lip gloss. She betrayed herself when she opened her mouth though. For one her voice cracked weirdly, for two she said, "Oh thank fuck. Painkillers. Hand them here darling." She reached out a hand. There were mild grumbles from the table, and Rarity raised an eyebrow as she picked out a water glass at random, grabbed two pills, and gulped them down.

"We asked for em first, sugarcube." AJ mumbled as Pinkie passed out the rest of the drinks.

Dash took hers gratefully, washing down pancake with several greedy gulps. She left just enough to still take the Tylenol. Rarity sat down as Dash drank, handing over the pills to AJ with an apologetic smile. "Oops."

Applejack, for her credit, didn't say anything else. She just took two pills and passed them to Fluttershy, who took one and passed them to Dash, who took two and passed them to Sunset. Once the bottle had been passed around completely Pinkie looked to Rarity. "Coffee?"

"Pinkie Pie. My savior. My triumph. My goddess. Please."

Pinkie giggled and bustled off again. Rarity's grateful smile turned into a slightly puzzled frown as Pinkie disappeared. "How. Is she so chipper? She was drinking just as much as I was last night."

Dash shrugged. To her there was no explaining the mystery that was Pinkie Pie.

"She drank more water than you too." Fluttershy supplied.

"Still." Rarity narrowed her eyes. Then shrugged and seemed to let it go, grabbing for food.

"Um..." Fluttershy looked at Rarity as she pulled several pieces of bacon and two pancakes onto her plate. "Have you seen Twilight?"

"On Maud's bed. Likely still asleep. Or she was when I woke up at least. Not sure how she managed to stay asleep through Pinkie Pie's wake up call, but she looked peaceful and she is still breathing, so..."

They all looked at Rarity, and Applejack was the first one to speak. "Did you..."

"What?"

"Y'know..." Applejack waved her hands vaguely, but apparently that and her embarrassed tone was enough.

Rarity gaped at her and stopped dripping syrup on her food. "Applejack!" She said, incredulous. The word was almost a surprised, offended scoff.

"Well. You weren't very specific. I think it was a legit question." Rainbow Dash offered from her side of the table.She kept her eyes squarely on Rarity, then slid them down to her food as soon as she was done speaking. Looking, talking at Rarity was safe. Sunset had happened to sit furthest from her after all.

Rarity turned on her, indignation still clear on her face. "We slept in the same bed. Because that was the easiest way to do things. Thank you very much." Her face calmed and she turned back to her food. Then, she smirked and kept going.

"Just because you had your tongue down Sunset's throat halfway through the party doesn't mean we all suddenly went feral and jumped our friends."

Sunset spluttered on her coffee, spitting it back out into the mug and coughing. Applejack patted her back roughly as she coughed and a moment later she was back to deep, steadying breaths.

Rainbow half choked too, gripping the table and swallowing once, twice, thrice to get a bite of bacon she hadn’t chewed properly down her throat.

"What?" Rarity asked as she picked up a fork and knife and started cutting into her food. "You weren't complaining, darlings. Oh you definitely weren't complaining."

Fluttershy's face was bright red, Applejack was hiding behind her hat again, really only Rarity seemed nonplussed about the whole thing. She just sat there, calmly eating. As she chewed, her expression changed from satisfied to curious and her eyes went from Rainbow Dash to Sunset, then back again. Rainbow sat stock still, and she felt very much like the deer she’d almost hit with her van last year. Rarity swallowed, and a sly, dangerous smile spread across her face.

"Now, hold on. I lost track of you two after a while. I thought I heard something upstairs but..." When everyone at the table shifted uncomfortably. Her smile turned delighted. "Well then. My my you two."

"Can we talk about literally anything else?" Sunset said into her food. Her face was mostly hidden by hair.

"When shall I expect an invite to the wedding?" Rarity asked as she took another dainty bite.

"Rarity!" Rainbow and Sunset barked her name in unison.

She giggled around her bite. Then swallowed. "I'm kidding, I'm kidding. I just think it's cute is all. I was kind of thinking it might take alcohol for everything to come out and for you two to start dating but-"

"We aren't dating." Sunset snapped.

Rainbow felt a little tug at her chest, but she still nodded along all the same. "We haven't even. Like. Talked about anything. Not dating though."

Rarity looked between the two of them. "You... but you said." She pointed at Sunset. Then at Rainbow, "And you... I thought." She looked summarily confused at this point. "And then... if you. Upstairs." She pointed above herself with both fingers.

"Rares. I barely remember last night. Like I remember the park, then getting back, dancing, then... some blurry stuff. And that's it." Rainbow shrugged.

Sunset chimed in. "Yep. I'm in the same boat. We... probably drank too much last night."

"We definitely drank too much last night." Rainbow corrected.

Rarity frowned. "Oh. Oh my. Then..."

At that moment Twilight walked in, bleary eyed and stumbling. "Food..." She mumbled like a zombie.

"Over here Twi Twi." Pinkie had stepped back in, with more coffee and water along with a small plate all resting on a waiter's tray. She was tapping on one of the chairs. Twilight wobbled over to it, and sat. Pinkie immediately set coffee and water in front of her. Twilight grabbed for the water without looking. Dash wasn't sure she'd even known what she was about to drink before she put the water to her lips, but she sucked it down regardless, draining the whole glass as Pinkie handed Rarity her coffee and set down the cooked fake meat for Sunset and Fluttershy.

She rushed back over to grab Twilight's glass, then Dash's and replaced both of them with new glasses of water. "Thanks Pinkie." Dash said, and took more greedy gulps of water. Her head was really starting to feel better at this point. "Shouldn't you eat too though?"

"I already ate silly! I nommed on pancakes and bacon and toast while I was chasing everyone but you girls out. Gave em all breakfast of course! Well okay brunch, it is almost noon now after all! Whatever. I just knew I couldn’t send them out onto the streets without a patented Pinkie-Pie-hangover-recovery-meal. I even had bottles of water." She reached into her hair and pulled one out, smiling broadly.

"That's mighty considerate of you Pinkie." AJ tipped her hat.

"Oh! Nah that's not too big a deal! When it comes to parties this big you gotta plan everything or else somebody might leave unhappy and that's no good!” Her bright smile waned a little, turning trepidatious. “Speaking of unhappy, you girls will help me clean this place up, right? My parents knew I was doing a big senior skip day thing today but uh... if things aren't all nice and neat when they get home… well okay, they'd understand but they're gonna be tired after traveling to Fillydelphia for the conference and I don't wanna burden them more by making them pick up cups and do laundry and-"

"Pinkie!" Dash cut in. Her voice eased as she said. "Course we'll help. Or at least I'm in."

The girls around the table followed suit in agreeing to help clean, though most of them specified they wanted to finish their food first. Pinkie was fine with that, and only made one last trip to the kitchen for a pitcher of water this time, before she too sat down at the table. No food in front of her, but clearly happy to be sitting down and eager to chat with her friends.

"Sooooo... how was last night?" Pinkie was looking from Rainbow to Sunset, but Twilight, still buried in her food, didn't notice. She gulped down a huge bite and replied.

"Super fun as always Pinkie! I think... we should maybe cool it for graduation though? Flash threw up in the backyard and I thought I heard someone... oh! Nothing's broken upstairs right?"

Sunset Shimmer groaned and pressed her palms into her face. Dash echoed her, and said with a sigh. "We weren't that loud right?"

"Uh. Sorry Dash, but, ya kinda woke me up actually? I was in the room across the hall. Marble's?" Applejack stopped to turn to Pinkie, who nodded.

"And uh. I don't. Some of it I don't exactly remember but... I heard way more than I ever wanted to."

Sunset groaned again, and Twilight finally caught on to exactly what was being talked about. Her face went from purple to red. "I... that was. You two?” A beat, then. “Did you break something?"

"No!" Dash and Sunset responded in unison.

Twilight shrunk back and though they were both flustered and frustrated, they apologized anyway.

"It's alright I just. I didn't realize. I mean. You were..."

Annoyance flared back into Sunset's face. "We get it. Loud."

Twilight drummed her fingers along the table. "I was going to say I didn't realize the two of you were… a thing." Twilight's face was still glowing red and she seemed very preoccupied with the way her fingers were tapping the table.

"We aren't, a ‘thing.’" Rainbow corrected this time. Her voice was quiet but sharp. She was just glad that they were all at the table now and neither of them would have to set the record straight again.

"But..." Twilight looked between the two of them. Then realization crossed her face, followed very closely by a slight wince. "Right."

"Right." Sunset said matter of factly as she stood, plate clattering as she took it with her. Rainbow's eyes flicked to hers, but when their gazes connected they went right back down to the swirling patterns in the wood.

For several seconds the only sound was Sunset walking across the floor, her boots on wood, and then the door squeaking open. Quiet reigned for several more seconds. Until AJ, closest to Rainbow, asked. "Are... y'all gonna be alright RD?"

"It'll be fine." She grumbled into the table.

"Have you two... talked about it?" Twilight asked now.

"We agreed to wait until after the hangovers cleared some. Not really a fun conversation to have when your head is pounding like a jackhammer."

"Ah." Twilight said softly.

A beat, then two. "Maybe... now would be a good time darling?" Rarity suggested. "We can wait in here while you... hash things out?"

Rainbow groaned, then picked her head up and nodded. She moved to stand, but as she did, an engine revved outside. They all recognized the rumbling sound of Sunset's motorcycle, and Rainbow could only stare, opened-mouthed, as it faded into silence.

"Or... not." Rarity said with a frown.

#my fanfiction #SunDash #SunsetDash #mlp #mlp: equestria girls #I've been meaning to cross post my fic for a hot minute

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winterfireice · 1 year

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Kotlc Secret Santa 2022

I got @the-one-and-only-aroace so this is for you

Hope you enjoy! 💙💜💙💜💙💜💙

Link to my ao3 for ease

@song-tam thank you so much for hosting this was a lot of fun

“Ahhhhhhhhhhh, why is it that the entire day I've been thinking about my book with almost nothing else in mind but the minute I get home and actually have time to write my brain goes blank!” I push back in my chair exasperatedly throwing my head back so it's facing the ceiling. “I don't know inspiration strikes at random times I guess.” My little sister Amy says while writing in one of her music journals. My older sister Jolie is laying on my bed doing homework with earbuds in she probably doesn't even know we're talking, these two are some of the only people in my life that know that I write.

I've been writing a book for almost a year now and it's still nowhere near the end, it has all the things I love about fantasy, elves, goblins, ogres I've been thinking about adding gnomes too but haven't figured out how to incorporate them yet. It's taken an annoyingly long time mostly because of classes and the fact that I've been suffering from some major writer's block for the last couple of months.

Jolie rolls over taking her earbuds off and asks what we're talking about, “Sophie is struggling to actually participate in her favorite hobby.” Amy says not looking up, while I have been having trouble with writing my sister has been in a rush of inspiration. Amy has loved writing music since she got her first special notebook when she was seven and it had purple glitter on it. Over the last eight years, she has gotten much better and I couldn't be more proud. She even has created songs for my characters, one of the best birthday presents I've gotten, along with the drawings of them from Jolie.

Sitting here is doing absolutely nothing so I suggest we all go to the ice cream place down the street “I could use a break from my English paper.” Jolie replies closing her book. “I'm really getting into the groove here I don't want to mess it up, but I’ll come next time.” Amy says taking her eyes off her pencil for the first time in hours. “Ok,” I tell her “do you want us to bring you anything?” “Vanilla with Carmel and mini marshmallows please” Amy gives me her iconic aren't I the best little sister even though she's not doing anything. ”You got it.” I say as Jolie grabs her car keys and purse from across the hall.

The ice cream place has only been here for about a year but it’s become a regular spot for us, it's great for study breaks or a meet-up place, plus has some of the best ice cream I've ever tasted.

We order and sit down at a table by the window, my biggest problem right now is that my story doesn't really have a plot or a main goal, I have a feeling for what I want it to be. As stupid as that sounds but it’s the only way I can explain it. And I know I shouldn't be rushing the creative process but I want to write so badly I just can't. I find it extremely infuriating. “Hey sis what's up, your face is super scrunched up and you look like you want to remove all of your eyelashes.” Jolie says reaching over to remove my hand from my eyes. “Talk to me” she straitens her back like she's about to go into an interview.

“I don't know I guess it's nothing, I'm just getting tired of being blocked all the time,” I tell her looking out the window. “Hey don't say it's nothing this is something important to you and it's bothering you. You have been working on this book for a really long time, I should know I hear you grumbling to yourself at all hours of the day about it” She says the last part with a look of possible annoyance. “I just feel like I don't know my brain is working against me.” I explain “like it's betraying you?” Jolie adds “Exactly! That's the best way to explain it-” I trail off thinking and then jump up excitedly “Thank you, thank you that's actually perfect, major help” I start hurrying to the door and I hear Jolie say something to the waiter about getting to go containers.

We drove to the ice cream place but our house is close enough that with running I get home within ten minutes and run to my room barely saying anything to my parents. “Wow that didn't take long at all, do you have my food?” Amy looks up a bit surprised because of my quick reappearance. “I love you but I need you to be quiet for a little while if you're in my room, also I think Jolie will be back soon with your ice cream.” I'm putting in my password and opening my writing software “I guess inspiration struck” Amy says while grabbing her stuff and closing my door while she leaves with a smile on her face.

When Jolie talked about betrayal I thought about how interesting it would be if my main character ends up betraying everyone to save the world ending up sacrificing herself and no one ever knows.

I end up passing out around six am with a mostly finished book and end up writing the ending after I get some actual sleep and start editing it.

My sisters come in around ten am both sitting on the bed not even saying anything just falling into a familiar routine, Jolie starts to sketch and Amy is humming a new song, and every once and a while she writes down a new line in her notebook.

“Thanks, you guys.” I say to them. “For what?” they both ask at the same time “For you two helping with my book, which I've almost finished now but also for just being great sisters.” Jolie and Amy look at each other before tackling me in a hug “Your also an amazing sister” Amy says “Now can we please read your book?” Jolie asks when I nod they both push my rolly chair out of the way so they can see my computer better, I laugh to myself while I wait for them to tell me their thoughts.

#also holly I tried to gift it to you on ao3 but you have that feature off #kotlc #kotlc secret santa 2022 #sophie foster #stand for dadwin 💙#amy foster #jolie ruewen #fire the canons

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dream-eating-youkai · 1 year

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I really like moths and I have cats, so whenever there's a moth in my house, one of two things happens:

My cats don't notice the moth and I just sort of stare at them for a weirdly long time. I think they're really really pretty and I just like looking at them. Tbh this is what i do for all bugs but with moths it's even more so. Unfortunately, this usually scares the moth and they usually either hold very still and hope I won't notice or fly away.

My cats notice the moth. Something in their brain tells them they must kill the moth, something that seems to only tell them to kill moths. They let every other bug, every other animal, go. But moths? Kill on sight. I try (usually successfully) to protect the moth. Usually I just spray my cats when they get close and eventually the moth hides and they forget, but a lot of times I have to physically move my cats away from the moth.

And I think that must be weird for the moth, right? Like just imagine being them for a second.

You're minding your own business when Something Notices you. It always Notices you. And it's Big. Bigger than anything you've ever seen in your short life. It could kill you in an instant and you both know that. You hold still, desperately hoping that It won't See you, but you know that It already has. You've lost countless friends and family members to Things like this, maybe even This One in particular- they all look more-or-less the same. It's staring straight at you.

It's making noises now. Soft and low, like It doesn't want you to panic. Like It wants to lull you into a false sense of security so you won't fly away when It eats you. It's getting closer now. And It Won't. Stop. Staring. You have never been more aware how tiny you are. Finally you panic and fly away, as far as your wings can take you. But you know this distance means nothing to It. You know that It must be toying with you, that if It gets serious you don't stand a chance.

Then, mere hours later, another, much smaller beast notices you. This beast doesn't have even half the restraint of the other. It attacks, clawing and jumping at you, doing all it can to kill you. Even though it's smaller, it could still swallow you whole. It could still end your life without a second thought. You try to hide, to stay out of reach but this beast is agile and it won't give up.

But then It appears. The wretched creature from before. And It's upset. It's making louder noises now, directed not at you, but at the lesser beast. It's getting between the two of you now, blocking the smaller beast from you. It picks up the small beast, with so much ease it's Terrifying. It stays near you, using some sort of device to spray water on the small beast whenever it gets near. The small beast seems to hate water.

Eventually, you find a hiding spot, somewhere where neither of them should find you. You know, in the back of your mind that It probably knows where you are, but you're exhausted. The sun is up now, and the night has been long.

How does the moth feel after this? Are they still afraid of me? of my cats? of both? Do they know that I protected them? Do they know why? Do they care?

I hope that they can rest a bit easier, knowing that I'll protect them. Knowing that I could never hurt them and that I will do everything I can to make sure nothing else does. I hope that the next time we meet, even if they still react the same way, they know they're safe. I hope that maybe, just maybe, our next encounter is a even little less stressful, that they know they can rest while I'm around.

#moths #bugs #long post #I think about this a lot ok?#i know i'm probably scary to bugs but i just want them to know that i love them very much ok?#and like. i think it's probably good that they're scared of me cause they probably should be scared of humans #but i feel so bad scaring them! i don't want to scare them!

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im-no-jedi · 1 year

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MLWTBB: A Pleasant Surprise

Part 9 of the “My Life With The Bad Batch” series, a (mostly) canon compliant self-insert story set in “The Bad Batch”

rated: T warnings: descriptions of food and eating, romantic kissing relationships: Hunter/self-insert, Omega & self-insert (adopted siblings), The Bad Batch & self-insert chapter word count: 2900+ words

✨MLWTBB masterlist✨

summary: it’s Hannah’s birthday, and the Bad Batch want to throw a celebration for her! with Cid’s permission, the parlor is transformed for the day, and Hannah is given an unforgettable time with her family and friends, culminating to an extra special evening with Hunter and a surprising new gift.

notes: I think it should be pretty obvious that my favorite movie is Tron Legacy after reading this chapter LOL. the end of that movie permanently altered my brain chemistry ok 😌 also! this is the end of the story! I hope you all enjoyed my little self-indulgent love letter to myself. my 35th birthday is just in a little over a month at the time of me posting this, so it’s appropriate imo. look forward to seeing more of my fancy new (dream) bike in the future, and thank you for reading 💙

A/N: this story has not been proofread by anyone other than myself. so apologies for any uncaught errors 😬

previous chapter

Chapter 5 (Final): The Greatest Gift of All

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Many times, Hannah had encountered other residents of the city tearing down the streets in their speeder bikes. She herself had only ever ridden in landspeeders, which was similar but not the same. The wind whipped through her short red hair violently, and it was both terrifying and exciting not having any borders around to keep her on the vehicle. Much like the first time she’d stepped into the Marauder, this was a whole new experience for her, and she planned on relishing in it to the full extent.

It made it even better that Hunter was there too. Although they weren’t going that fast, Hannah kept a good grip around her partner’s waist as they rode through the dirty streets of Ord Mantell. Any people or other obstacles that came in their path were avoided with ease. The bike turned so smooth, it felt like they were flying.

“This thing’s got good handling!” Hunter said after they’d taken a sharp turn without issue.

“So do you!” Hannah replied as she gave him a quick squeeze.

A smug look crossed Hunter’s face. “Don’t let Gildish hear that, he might get grossed out again!”

Hannah sputtered and threw her head back as she went into a fit of laughter.

After that, Hunter wanted to really test out the bike’s handling and drove them down some more crowded streets. Hannah was a bit nervous at first, but she quickly got into it. The bike easily swerved and dipped around anything that got in their way. From an outside perspective, it was like the bike was doing an elaborate dance between all the people and objects on the street. The thrill of it all made Hannah laugh and holler out of excitement.

Eventually, they skidded to a stop as the path forward was temporarily blocked by some people moving large crates across the street. Hannah continued laughing even after they stopped, adrenaline still coursing through her veins.

“Ya havin’ fun?” Hunter asked, leaning back against her.

“Too much, probably!” Hannah responded with another laugh.

As her laughter died down, something caught Hannah’s attention a little ways away from them. Another person with a speeder bike was parked at one of the stalls and getting a drink. Hannah instantly recognized him as the sleazy Mirialan who’d tried making a move on her some time ago.

At first, Hannah grimaced at the sight of him, but then an idea crossed her mind. She pointed the Mirialan out to Hunter, who groaned loudly at seeing him. Then, in a surprising move, she called the man out by name.

“Hey, Chaze!”

The Mirialan seemed confused at hearing his name be called, but when he saw who had said it, his eyes went wide. He looked both shocked and dumbfounded.

“Great weather today, isn’t it?” Hannah continued, barely holding back a snicker. She kept her arms snuggly held around Hunter, trying to make it as obvious as possible.

“Uhh, yeah,” Chaze responded awkwardly. His face turned down into a scowl, and he looked at the two of them curiously. “Where’d you get the bike?”

“Oh, funny story--” Hannah was cut off by Hunter revving the engine. Their path was finally clear. “Oh, sorry, gotta go byeeee!” Hannah called out as they tore away, leaving Chaze even more dumbfounded than before.

“Don’tcha know better than to poke a Nexu’s den?” Hunter joked once they were further down the street.

“Please!” Hannah responded with a laugh. “Chaze is more of a puffed-up Tooka, and you know it!”

Hunter definitely couldn’t argue with that.

Their journey through the city soon brought them closer to the border. Hunter slowed down momentarily and looked back at Hannah, twirling around the goggles Gildish had given him. “Wanna really test what this thing can do?”

Hannah adjusted her own goggles, similar to how Tech always did, and a grin spread on her face. “Thought you’d never ask.”

With a smirk, Hunter put his goggles on and revved the engine before tearing off once again, throwing Hannah into a fit of excited squeals. The bike wove through a few more streets, then entered a dimly lit tunnel. The yellow glow of the bike’s underbelly bounced off the walls, illuminating the tunnel with its warm light. Then everything was thrown into natural light again as the bike emerged from the tunnel and into the vast, rocky expanse of the planet.

Barely a second went by before Hunter told Hannah to hold on tight, and he quickly accelerated, making Hannah squeal with delight.

Most of the ground surrounding the city was bare, save for a few rocks that jutted out of the ground. They could go as fast as they wanted without worry. And that’s exactly what Hunter did. Hannah held tightly to her partner’s chest as they soared across the land, going fast enough that they could fly high into the air if desired. The rush of adrenaline Hannah felt was incomparable to anything she’d felt before. If not for her strong sensibility, she might have let go in an effort to go flying away herself. Instead, she only partially went a bit crazy and threw one of her arms out into the wind while shouting excitedly. A massive smile spread on Hunter’s face as Hannah continued to shout and literally throw caution to the wind.

They eventually came closer to some of the cliffs and mesas that surrounded the city, and Hunter began driving the bike up one of the mesas. The bike intentionally stayed close to the ground and bounced up and down over some rocks as it curled around the mesa, causing Hannah to giggle with glee at the sensation.

Once they’d gotten to the flattened top of the mesa, the bike finally rested on the side closest to the city, along with a thoroughly worn-out Hannah.

“Aww... are we... done already?” she huffed as she practically collapsed against Hunter’s back.

“Just letting the bike rest for a bit,” Hunter replied, removing his now dusty goggles. “And the passenger.”

Hannah giggled and poked Hunter in the ribs before hopping off the bike. Some dust fell to the ground as she removed her goggles, choosing to let them rest on top of her head.

That’s when she finally noticed the view.

Without waiting, she briskly walked over closer to the cliffside, keeping only a few feet from its edge. She was still out of breath from the trip, but the sight of the whole city in front of her left her even more breathless. It was reminiscent of her first date with Hunter up in the abandoned watchtower. Her lungs may have been empty, but her heart was overflowing.

The familiar feeling of a strong but gentle arm resting across her shoulders made the smile on Hannah’s face grow, and she rested her head on Hunter’s shoulder with a satisfied sigh. Taking a break wasn’t sounding so bad after all.

Time went by unnoticed as Hannah and Hunter remained at the top of the mesa, never moving from their spot near the cliff’s edge. Although the whole surrounding area was lovely, Hannah was content keeping her attention towards the city, watching the ships come and go, with some of them even flying overhead. The two of them had gone from standing to sitting and had even laid down for a bit to watch the clouds. Like usual, a lot of the time was spent in silence, with the only sounds being the gentle wind that blew past or one of the passing starships flying overhead. Hunter never once left Hannah’s side, and she was certain their hands would be permanently stuck together after that day.

“Can I ask you a random question?” Hannah asked at one point.

Hunter looked at her with a quirked eyebrow. “Not sure why you need my permission, but go ahead.”

“Force of habit,” Hannah responded with a giggle. Hunter had an arm and leg behind Hannah’s back and shifted a bit to face her better while she asked her question. “Do you... do you think it’ll ever be like this again?”

“Like what?”

Hannah sighed a bit and fiddled with her fingernails. “Today felt like the first real day that I didn’t have to worry about anything. Like there was no trouble at all in the back of my mind, nagging me. It felt... normal. Or at least, what I’ve always thought normal should be.”

“I wouldn’t know,” Hunter plainly responded. “I’ve never had a normal day in my whole life.”

Hannah threw her head back with a cackle. “Fair enough. But you know what I mean.”

“I do. And I wish I had an answer to give you.” Hunter let out a small sigh and turned his attention back towards the city. “It’d be nice to not have any bigger concerns than what goes on in a day. Even better if I got the chance to shower you with gifts all the time like your super rich friends do.”

“Hey,” Hannah said, placing a hand on Hunter’s knee. “For what it’s worth, I would trade every gift I’ve ever gotten if it meant I got to have you around more.”

Hunter gave her a small smile and placed a hand on top of hers. “That’d be nice, wouldn’t it? If only it were that simple.” He sighed again and shook his head. “Sorry I can’t be more optimistic. I consider myself lucky to just even know you, never mind how close we’ve gotten.” His face turned towards the sky as he got lost in thought, unable to express his feelings anymore. He didn’t want to burden Hannah with his dour outlook anyway.

Hannah’s hand slipped out from underneath his and reached up behind his neck. Her fingers gently began running through his hair, almost instantly putting him into a calmer state.

“You always say luck is what’s running the show for us,” Hannah said as she continued to play with Hunter’s hair. “But... I dunno, it... it feels more than that. There has to be some greater power out there that’s brought and kept us together. It can’t just be luck.”

“Well, whatever it is,” Hunter began, tilting his head down a bit closer to Hannah. “Luck or ‘some greater power’... I’m grateful to it. It’s given me more than I thought I ever deserved. You may have been the one getting gifts today, but I’ve got the best gift imaginable already.” His face fully turned towards her, with the oh-so often seen fond smile spread on his lips. “I’m so grateful you were born, Hannah.”

Too many times that day already, Hannah had been brought to tears by the acts and words of her loved ones. And this time was no different. Her eyes quickly began to glisten and a touched expression crossed her face as she stared back at Hunter, heart full to bursting. She’d questioned her mere existence so many times throughout her life, pondering the significance of it, wondering sometimes why she was even still alive at all. But hearing Hunter’s words, recalling the acts of her friends and family from that day, even remembering past affirmations from her original family many years ago... how could she question herself after that?

The hand that still lingered in Hunter’s hair never left as the two lovers drew closer, kissing each other with all the love they could muster. Hunter held Hannah against him with one arm around her shoulders and dipped her to the side, which made her giggle against his lips. His kisses ran across her lips and down to her neck, leaving her breathlessly giggling out of joy and pleasure. Both of Hannah’s hands remained intertwined in Hunter’s hair, clutched near the base of his skull, and it only made him want to indulge her more.

Hannah’s cake couldn’t hold a candle to the treat she received during that moment.

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

The sun was nearly set by the time Hannah and Hunter returned to the parlor. Only one person was there to greet them, who was Omega, unsurprisingly. She immediately began bombarding them with questions about their trip once Hunter parked the bike, with Hannah’s bag still clutched in her arms. Hunter was the one to answer all his sister’s questions, as Hannah had gotten so worn out from the day that she was practically falling asleep against Hunter’s back.

Eventually, Hunter himself had a question and asked Omega what everyone else was up to. According to Omega, the others had already cleaned up the party and had either gone home or up to Hannah’s apartment. Only Bolo and Ketch were still at the parlor, along with Cid, of course.

“You know what I just realized?” Hannah groggily said as she slowly lifted her head off Hunter’s shoulder. “I dunno where to put this thing.” She patted the side of the bike while chuckling.

Omega happily informed her sister that the issue had already been taken care of as well. Apparently, Cid had a small garage nearby that she was using for spare storage, much like Hannah’s apartment. Echo, Wrecker, and Tech had cleaned out a spot for Hannah’s bike after finishing the parlor, which was probably why they’d all gone up to Hannah’s apartment to rest for so long.

“Awww,” Hannah replied with an exaggerated pout. “You guys are so sweet and considerate...” She pulled Omega in for a hug, which made the small girl giggle.

After handing Hannah her bag back, Omega asked if she could have a ride on the bike before dinner. Hannah grimaced a bit at the thought of having to make dinner, but Omega quickly added that Wrecker and Echo were already on it, so she didn’t have to worry.

“Well, in that case,” Hannah said, slinging her leg around to get off the bike. “If Hunter’s up for it, go ahead. Just make sure to hold on and don’t let go, ok?”

“Yeah, don’t be reckless like your big sister,” Hunter teased, which earned him a playful smack on the arm from Hannah.

Excitedly, Omega climbed onto the back of the bike, with Hannah’s help. Her small arms wrapped around her brother’s waist, similarly to how she’d seen Hannah do earlier.

“Don’t stay out too long,” Hannah said, addressing Hunter specifically. “Don’t go too fast either. And avoid the busy streets this time, please. Oh, also,” she yanked her goggles off and handed them to Omega. “Keep these on, and like I said before, do not let go, ok?”

Hunter and Omega looked at each other with the same face, equally annoyed and endeared by Hannah’s motherly demands. They both gave Hannah a nod before she stepped away, hands clutched to the strap of her bag.

“Oh, and one more thing,” Hannah said as Hunter revved the engine.

Soft sighs of exasperation came from both Hunter and Omega. “Yeah?” Hunter asked, giving her a forced smile.

A small smile crept on Hannah’s face. She could easily tell they both were disgruntled, but she didn’t mind. Seeing them together on her new bike about to go out for some fun was incredibly fulfilling, and her heart swelled.

“I just...” Hannah’s hands came up to her mouth as she was suddenly stricken with emotion. “I love you both, that’s all I wanted to say.”

Again, Hunter and Omega looked at each other, this time with the same affectionate expression. “Love you too,” Hunter replied, with Omega chiming in with his exact words.

“And happy birthday again too!” Omega added cheerfully.

Hannah giggled and thanked her, saying it had definitely been a very happy birthday for her.

With one hand still clutched to the strap of her bag, Hannah waved as the bike drove away. Omega’s shouts of excitement could be heard even after they’d gone out of sight, and Hannah laughed with joy before everything fell silent.

The silence lingered for some time as Hannah stood near the top of the stairwell to Cid’s parlor. It was the first time all day where she’d been alone. Being an introvert, she needed the time to herself, especially after the whirlwind day she’d had. But she wasn’t quite ready to fully isolate herself just yet. Just a moment was all she needed before she planned on heading up to her apartment, where she knew her other three beloved Clones were waiting for her.

A hand reached up to the base of her neck to clutch the pendant that had been gifted to her by her lover. The same hand then fell to the bag at her side to affectionately touch the pin gifted to her by her little sister. Something squishy inside the bag caught her attention, and Hannah’s face lit up as she pulled out the Tooka doll gifted to her by Wrecker. Her gaze briefly caught a glimpse of the other gifts she’d placed in her bag, and she sighed happily as she clutched Tula the Tooka doll to her chest.

Out of everything she’d been given that day, the greatest gift Hannah reflected on was the group of people she’d chosen to surround herself with. Them being a part of her life was better than anything they could ever give her. She knew she would never be able to express that to them properly. But thankfully, gifts were something she loved to give as well as receive.

Hannah couldn’t wait to repay her loved ones’ generosity someday.

TO BE CONTINUED

#the bad batch #star wars the bad batch #self-insert #selfshipping #the fact that I wrote this without knowing what happens in season 2 DESTROYS me #if you know you know...#star warz #my storiez

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dragonsareourfuture · 3 years

Text

Ways the Death Note Cast Show They Trust You

I lost some inspiration towards the middle there, I’m sorry!!

- he will always have Watari make extra servings of food just for you. It’s a bit startling at first. So suddenly there’s just food in front of you that you think is for L, but when you push it towards him, he pushes it right back to you.

“You don’t want it?” He’d ask, leaving you confused until you finally put the pieces together.

“Oh, I…I guess I didn’t realize it was for me. My bad.” You begin eating. “Thank you.”

L simply hums and continues with whatever he was just up to.

- You know that thing cats do where they’re sitting perfectly still, eyes closed, guard slightly down, but still not quite asleep? I can picture L doing something like this during any moment of downtime he gets. Just sitting, scrunched up in his chair or wherever he happens to be, eyes closed but the cogs in his brain are still turning. You notice him doing this when it is only you and him in the room, simply thinking it’s because of the moment of rare solitude. Little do you know, it’s because he trusts that you won’t hurt him or let anything bad happen to him.

- L is a person who prefers to be in charge of his own life. He likes knowing what’s going on around him at all times and when things are out of his hands he can’t help but feel uncomfortable. However, with a person he’s developed a close relationship with and knows he can trust with everything he has, L will feel more comfortable leaving decisions up to them. You’ll have to start small though, like being the one to plan a surprise date. He might feel a bit uncomfy at the beginning, shifting around and possibly even insisting he sit so that he can see the exits clearly, but he eases into it eventually. Soon you both find yourselves joking around in the odd way that you do and gorging on cake and ice cream.

Mello

- being vulnerable is something Mello isn’t too keen on. He already feels vulnerable most of the time and would kick himself if he let that show through his actions. If Mello truly trusts you, he will feel as though he can be vulnerable around you without any judgement on your end. Small acts that show vulnerability such as asking you to help him with something he can’t quite handle on his own — even if it’s something as simple as not being able to reach something off a shelf or being unsure about how to fix something. Eventually, he’ll work his way up to the bigger stuff like being physically wounded in front of you or having a mental block.

- Sharing his clothes with you or letting you pick his outfit for him. Now, it sounds like he’s just being a little diva and that’s only partially true. But his clothes are important to him, they’re a factor that sets him aside from his plain-dressing rival and in his eyes they make him more interesting than him, visually at least. He’s happy to dress you up, and it is true that he has to have a close relationship with you to want to do so, but you should be especially proud if he lets you alter his appearance in any way.

- He likes to believe that he’s had his goals set out from the beginning. Surpass Near, become the next L, and go on from there. What he pushes to the back of his brain are the moments he’s been studying and he’s asked himself ‘What if I went down a different path?’. He quickly pushes these thoughts away, but they keep coming back. What would life be like if this wasn’t an option for him? What if he were a writer? What if he lived in the city with people he loves and went to the movies every Friday? Unwillingly, he has a whole list of possibilities. If he truly trusts you, he’ll share every single one with you. Whether it’s dropping hints or confessing them one by one late at night, he can’t help but feel that they’re safe with you.

Misa

- it seems a bit surface level, but it’s true — Misa will talk down on Light in front of you if she trusts you. But it’s not straight away. She had developed a lot of courage to actually break up with him, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t still doubt her decision to do so. It’s only when she finds out from you how loved ones are supposed to treat each other — with kindness and respect — that she feels her decision to ditch Light was the entirely right one. Slowly, she’ll start to admit to you all the things she hated about Light, starting with some of his mannerisms and building up to something like how he forced her to leave the entertainment business.

- Misa is…dramatic. She likes to go above and beyond for someone she’s infatuated with and make sure they’re the happiest they can be. If she trusts you enough to develop this kind of infatuation and, with some development, less of an obsession and more of a strong, bonding love, you will be doted on to the point where it’s almost ridiculous. You could be at home during one of her work days and you’ll get a delivery of lunch from your favorite takeout place because Misa was ‘thinking of you <3’, as she explains when you text her asking why food randomly showed up at your place. It’s rather sweet.

- Misa’s a pretty talkative person in general, that’s a well known fact. She’ll talk about clothes, a cute birdie she saw on her way home, really anything that comes to mind. But, she’ll do that with about anyone who’ll listen. It’s gradual, so it’s hard to notice, but if Misa grows to trust you she’ll start talking about some of the more serious things that have been on her mind for a while, those things that she thought would scare off anyone she liked because of how personal they are to her. Her family before they died, for example. It’s something that Misa thinks about. So much. But she doesn’t really talk about it. She wants to forget, put the past behind her but because she’s never talked about it with anyone it’s hard to do that. She’ll talk about her family to you, the little things her sister used to do and some things her parents did that she misses.

Matsuda

- Matsuda often begins to idolize those who he thinks are trustworthy and have a good heart. He starts to tell you how much he loves when you do x and that he wishes he could perform as well as you in that area. In a sense, he trusts you with his vulnerability, letting you know that he thinks of himself as less than satisfactory and how he wishes he could do better, only he channels it by pointing out good things about you. If…that makes sense.

- This sounds dire, but he’ll risk his life for the people he completely, without a doubt trusts. He was willing to do so with Chief Yagami, someone he saw as a father figure, and he would certainly be willing to do so with you, someone who he feels he has a deep emotional connection to. Whether you’re in a situation where he would need to or he’s just saying that he would, he means it.

- Matsuda trusts you to not make fun of him when he overshares or talks too much or anything his coworkers brush him off for. He feels that he can talk about things he finds funny and talk about his life without worrying about what you think of him when he does.

Matt

- he would drop everything to help you. Whether that’s dropping his game to help you kill a bug or leaving his duties behind to help you out of a life or death situation. Whichever scenario you happen to find yourself in he’s there no matter what.

- He’ll invite you into his personal life. I know this is kind of a given but Matt had the chance to become the next L. He had the chance to become something “great” and he said “ummm rather not” to it because it wasn’t something he wanted. If he shares this information with you, he trusts you not to leave him for something better when you discover the status he could have had and refused. He trusts you to appreciate him because of him and not the intelligence everyone but him cherishes.

- He leaves you alone around important technology and software he’s hacked. Unfortunately for him, betrayal comes with the business he’s got himself into and, if Matt really trusts you on both a professional and emotional level, he won’t have a problem worrying about whether or not you’ll take advantage of his coffee break to gather information for some other organization or something. He will literally just go “mkay babe I gotta go fuel up on caffeine real quick, you’re good watching the hacked government database right? Cool cya.”

Near

- Near trusts you to take him to public places. Sounds simple, yeah. But Near has never liked crowds, or even just too many strangers in a wide open place. It’s strange to everyone observing how one day he decides he needs a new toy, his old one having broken due to old age, and asks you to take him to the toy store. He’s questioned, people wondering why he wouldn’t rather you just go alone but Near insists. Apparently the toy that broke is special addition and he wants to make sure you get the right one. He stays close to you the whole way, not really saying much, but he’s there and that’s a big step for him.

- He helps you out with puzzles. Basically cheats for you. When he’s eyeing one specific empty slot, coughing lightly to get your attention, just know that he’s not helping you because he thinks you need it. Quite the opposite actually. With anyone else, he believes that they should be able to solve it on their own. He thinks that if they can’t, then that’s their fault. But with you…it’s as if he trusts that you’re intelligent enough without the puzzle being an indicator of that intelligence, so much so that he thinks the puzzle itself is obsolete when it comes to you. He doesn’t need a puzzle to know how smart you are.

- He’ll eat the foods you make him. Near’s picky eater-ness is above that of a child who only eats chicken tenders and pizza. He doesn’t eat that many people’s food because he knows it’s probably not he way he likes it. But with you, he trusts that you respect his eating habits and know him well enough to get it right the first time. Though he does check the food out for a bit, he’ll eat it. Sometimes all of it. Fuckin astonishing to Rester who had attempted many times to heat up microwave dinners for the guy.

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subpar-ghoulfriend · 3 years

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Gamer boy

Yandere!Shigaraki x reader

NO MINORS

You caught the eye of an obsessive gamer. He's convinced you're perfect for him. So why are you ignoring him?

tw: yandere themes, stalking, kidnapping, noncon, alcohol use, degradation, flash photography

You worked at the local gaming cafe. It was a pretty chill job most of the time. The adults who came in didn't care to socialize or cause problems and the school kids would only try to run a muck for a short while until they got entrapped by whatever they were playing. You sat at the help desk, renting out games, consoles, and selling sugary drinks. Easy as pie. Like any cafe, you had regular customers.

Once a week a wild-haired-sloucher would slink up to your desk to rent out a computer mouse and then head to the same computer every time - number 001. After an hour or so he would come up to buy an energy drink.

Of course you didn't know that he came here because Kurogiri would force him out of his cave once a week.

Your first mistake was on his third visit. When he came in you had a computer mouse and his favorite energy drink sitting out for him. The drink was on the house, you smiled. To you, this was a friendly gesture to make sure your reliable customers would keep coming back. To him, this was an offering of your submission. The second sign you gave was asking him if he was going to attend the opening of a new gaming store. He wasn't, obviously, but you wanted him to go, didn't you?

He started keeping tabs on you. To make sure you were worthy, he told himself. He was impressed to find that you actually had a useful quirk. You had a group of friends that lived in your apartment complex. He found it a bit pathetic that you spent so much time with them. But it must be hard for you to not be with him. You must be so lonely when he wasn't around.

Then he began to sneak in to your room, whether you were there or not. Occasionally he would sort through your drawers while you were in the shower; or play whatever game he chose to keep on his phone that week while you slept. When you were away he would take a more thorough inventory. He went through the movies and games piled in your living room. Carefully skimmed through the books on your nightstand. Rummaged through your cabinets and fridge.

Shigaraki was at war with himself on what his next move should be. A piece of him - however small - wanted to go about things like a normal person. But that left too much room for rejection. He was biding his time, trying to develop some form of plan. Until you forced him into action.

It happened during one of the nights he devoted to watching over you. Your friends had finally convinced you to go out with them. Allowing them to play dress up, they put you something too short and too tight for Shigaraki's comfort. They were going to drag you to a bar in that? You were practically begging for men to proposition you. Why did you even own something like that? You knew you belonged to him. Anyone aside from him shouldn't see that amount of your body. The anger was starting to creep over him, his skin becoming too tight until he was forced to seek relief by digging into his neck.

Things only went down hill from there. While you were having a great time, completely unaware of your stalker's presence, Shigaraki sulked angrily along the edge of the club you had been pulled into. You were drunk, although no where near as drunk as your companions and happily in the middle of the dance floor. As you faced your friend, a man wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you tightly against him by the hips. You didn't mind at first, until you realized the man was a complete stranger and not another person you knew. Your shrugged him off and the oaf moved on towards his next prey. It took everything Shigaraki had in him not to end the man's life, along with everyone else in the damn room. But he managed. And you kept dancing, drawing in guys like flies to honey. None of them caught your eye, of course not, even when intoxicated you knew who you belonged to. Obviously, you were using these NEETs to get under Shigaraki's skin. Taunting him for not keeping you in check.

One of the girls you came with had wandered off with some "handsome" stranger and you were the only one with enough wherewithal to go looking for her. You listened to podcasts, Don't let your friends go off alone ESPECIALLY when intoxicated, it was a true crime commandment.

With no luck in the club you ventured outside, breaking the commandment yourself. You weaved around the building, holding on to the wall to keep yourself from stumbling. In the back of the building you ran into a hooded figure.

"Have you seen my friend?"

The figure, Shigaraki, tilted his head. He had two options, take you in this back alley and risk someone hearing you scream, or begin a game of cat and mouse. You just looked so dazed and fuckable.

"Your friends? I'm not sure but I saw two people head that way," He lied and pointed away from the club. "Do you need help looking for them."

You scrunched your nose, genuinely (and drunkenly) debating the idea. Finally you shook your head, "No thanks, stranger danger."

"Then it's a good thing I'm not a stranger," he smirked. Finally you realized who the person in front of you was.

With a gasp you giggled, "Gamer boy!"

"Shigaraki," he reminded you, shifting back and forth uncomfortably trying to ease the growing swell in his pants. Why did you have to be so cute?

"Hm, okay then but no funny business."

He smirked as he lead you away from your friends. After a few blocks you were ready to give up, you tend to be a tired drunk and just wanted to go home to your bed. Shigaraki was understanding, probably too understanding, and willing to walk you back to your place. You thanked him, ready to bid him farewell at your door, but he followed you in, convincing your drunk brain that you two should have a drink before he left. You curled yourself into your couch while you listened to your guest.

"Thanks for walking," you yawned, "with me. You're so nice."

Gently the villain lifted you off your feet, "Someone's tired. Let's get you in to bed."

You nodded. Unable to process the impending danger. Until you realized that he was joining you on your bed, starting to tug at your outfit. "Shigi, what are you doing."

"I'm giving you what you want," he said in between nips to your neck and shoulders. "You've been misbehaving all night. Dressing and acting like a slut. Practically offering your body to any undeserving male. If you want to be a whore, then you can be my whore."

A hand slid beneath cotton of your clothes.

He teased your slick flesh, "See how quickly your body reacts to me?"

Your head was spinning, not really processing what he was saying. But you felt good and you wanted to keep feeling good. His unruly hair tickled your nose. You giggled. He latched his lips around your breast, teasing your nipples. One with his tongue, the other with his thumb.

The heat between your legs was becoming unbearable.

"What are you going to do to me?"

He lift his eyes to look up at you, "Such a forgetful thing. I'm gonna pound into your little pussy until you forget that any one besides me exists."

You whined in confusion. Your memory fuzzy on what led up to this moment. Had you brought him home?

He carefully continued to tease your sensitive body. Biting at your thighs and pressing against your soaked panties.

...

"Tell me who you belong to

...

"I'm never letting you get out of bed. I gotta make sure I keep my desperate whore in her place."

...

"Are you begging for my cum? Such a greedy little bitch."

...

"Spread your legs, let me see how pretty you look when you're stuffed with my cum." *flash* "so pretty. You wanna see how god I take care of you?"

...

"Make sure you keep behaving once we get you home. If you misbehave I'll have to hurt another one of your friends."

#yandere x reader #yandere bnha #yandere shigaraki #shigaraki x reader #yandere mha #Smut

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wri0thesley · 3 years

Note

thank you for infecting me with total naoya brain rot, nat. can i request a breeding kink scenario with him and curvy, thick reader that he thinks looks perfect for bearing him an heir 👀 feel free to make him as nasty as you want, i love to read about this absolute trash fire of a man

Covet - Naoya x Fem!Reader (3.6k)

Naoya wants something from you - you see a chance to get something you want too.

warnings: afab reader, fem pronouns. breeding. power imbalance (reader is a maid at the zen’in estate). talk of pregnancy, knives, misogyny, fingering, coming inside/creampies. the mandatory warning that this fic is about naoya.

You are fairly certain that Naoya Zenin does not know whether you exist. If he has ever noticed you attending to your duties, so much lower and less important than he, he probably doesn’t like you.

At least, you did not think he liked you before this moment. Even now, with his hands on your hips and your body pressed flush against the wall outside his chambers, you’re not certain – there’s a weight to the way he’s holding you, a twist to his lips that you can see from where your cheek has met cool wallpaper. He looks like he’s considering you; sizing you up.

Your cheeks burn as he sizes up your lower half, eyes tracing your hips and ass and thighs without even a hint of remorse, as if it’s his god-given right to look upon you like this even though you’ve barely ever spoken more than a cursory polite; ‘I brought you this, Sir’. That’s what you’ve been taught to do.

Be respectful, stick to the shadows, do what you’re told. It’s an honour to serve the Zenin clan, it’s an honour to be here in the estate – it’s an honour to get a brief moment of any of their time, even if they’re just making demands on you. You sometimes hate yourself, for not being born one of them - you want, you want, you want, like a physical ache. The luxury. The nice treatment. People to think that you merely blessing them with a look is an honour--

It’s an especial honour to be worth Naoya’s time – everybody knows that he’s going to be the next leader. There are always rumours buzzing around the grounds about him; about his power, about his temper, about his personality . . . about which pretty young woman he’ll make his wife and have beside him to rule the clan.

You’re brought back to what’s currently happening by his hands sliding down from where he is clinging onto your hips, generously tracing the curve, admiring just how broad they are.

“Pity you have to hide beneath that,” he says, smirking. Your cheeks are hot. “You’re pretty, you know. At least. . .” One hand moves from your hip, thumb and forefinger squeezing your cheeks to turn them more thoroughly towards him. He looks entirely unruffled by the situation, every inch of him at ease that you will bend to what he wants. “Your body is pretty.” Eyes scan over your face, and you’re suddenly aware of every imperfection, every feature you’ve ever scrutinised. “Hm. Not bad either.”

“I . . . I don’t understand,” You find yourself breathing. He raises one elegant eyebrow. The hand that’s on your hip moves, tracing the plush of your ass through fabric, his lip curling into a smirk. He presses a little bit forward and you feel something stiff press against your other cheek (the one not occupied by his hand) – and your throat goes dry as you realise precisely what he means.

Oh.

You should run. Good girls do not do what Naoya wants you to do. You have duties to attend to! You have things that must be done, lest your seniors sigh and tut at you and punish you for neglecting your work. But your throat is very dry and your heart is pounding and there is suddenly a strange twist of heat low in your gut, as Naoya Zenin looks down at you with the air of a man who will devour you if you let him.

You can’t deny it’s thrilling to be wanted – more thrilling to be wanted by someone like him.

“I’ll give you ten seconds,” he says, and his tone is patronising. “If you don’t want me to take you to bed and fuck you, I suggest you make yourself scarce.”

He says it so openly, so brazenly – you suppose that’s what comes of being born into this family. He has nothing to fear in these walls. Not like you.

You imagine yourself underneath him for a second, his hair in disarray, hakama abandoned, his perfectly composed face twisted in pleasure. You should not go to his bed. But . . . you want to. And don’t you deserve something you want, when you’ve spent your entire life watching other people enjoy it?

“You don’t need to,” you breathe, swallowing. Naoya pulls back in amusement, his eyes darkening. He seems so much taller and stronger than you. Even swathed in fabric, it’s clear that there is muscle and strength beneath the clothes. He has been trained to within an inch of his life since the day he was born. He makes a considering noise in the back of his throat. A thumb trails over your cheek.

“Are you sure about that?” The smirk in his voice says that he knows you are. “I won’t be gentle with you, you know. I don’t have all day to romance you. I just want to get you on your back . . .” His thumb slides over your jawline, past your earlobe, until he’s taken a hank of your hair and yanks it back roughly, exposing your throat and making you gasp. “And fuck a son into you.”

He must see the look on your face, because he laughs, the sound cruel even to your ears. He’s still pressed so close to you. Nobody who walked down this hallway would mistake the embrace the two of you were currently in for anything clandestine. You suppose he has nothing to worry about – but your reputation? He’d ruin you for marriage.

“Come on,” he murmurs, chuckling. “Have you seen yourself? You’re made for bearing a child, sweetheart.” The pet name is almost mocking, but your heart skips a beat anyway. “Don’t worry too much. You don’t think I could take care of you, if you carried my heir? You’re a servant, right? You already know how to behave.” His smile is like a wolf. “So, I give you my word that if it takes, I’ll take care of you. Sounds fair, huh?” He jerks on your hair again. “Ten seconds,” he reminds you. “If you want to get out of it. You don’t think there are girls lining up around the block to have me?”

(Judging by the whispers about him, you actually don’t think there are – but judging from Naoya’s eyes, he certainly thinks so.)

He lets go. He steps back. His eyes are still on you, but he raises his arms either side of him as if to show you that you’re free to go. And you do consider it – you let the possibility of running flicker through your head. It’s quickly replaced by the thought of Naoya on top of you, an end to the aching between your legs, and the knowledge of just how you might be treated if Naoya did succeed in his mission.

It’s fine to want nice things, every once in a while.

“Five,” he says, warningly, but his eyes are dark with hunger. “Four. Three.”

You turn towards his bedroom door and grasp the handle, and he laughs, the sound very loud.

“Oh,” he says, “so you’re going to be fun.”

The minute his bedroom door clicks behind him, Naoya wastes no time on being on you. He’s full throttle, immediately – hands pulling at your clothes, rough, his mouth on your neck. He avoids your mouth, like he doesn’t quite want to kiss you – but as you bite back a moan as he nips at your throat and he groans in response at the noise, you realise that he wants to hear you.

Figures a man like that wants the reassurance that you’re enjoying yourself. Figures he wants to crow over every whimper that drops from your lips. Hands pull at your kimono, almost ripping it in his hurry to have the fabric out of his way and on the floor. You barely even notice he’s been pushing you across the room until you’re pushed hard down, and your back meets pillows and sheets instead of the floor.

The way you fall makes a perfect tableaux; the material of your outfit pooling around you, your body in the middle of it, clad in only your underwear. His light eyes rake over you hungrily.

“Fuck,” he says. His hands immediately go to your hips, thumbs pressing hard into the soft flesh. You barely fit in his hands, the curve of you dramatic. “You’re going to be perfect for this, huh? Look at you. It’s a fucking shame you’re not knocked up right now--”

Your body reacts to his touch and his look, though you can’t help but be embarrassed by it – it’s one thing to be entranced by someone pretty, you think, but it’s another thing to be entranced by the idea of how pretty someone will look when their stomach is swollen and their breasts have swelled and their hips have filled out because they’re bearing your child.

He doesn’t bother with unclipping your bra. He reaches into his hakama and panic flashes before your eyes when he pulls out a knife, but he uses it merely to slice the gore between your bra cups, right between the cute bow adorning them.

“I—I liked that,” you say, but your voice sounds very wobbly in the room, under Naoya’s gaze, under his hands. He snorts.

“I like you better without it,” he says shortly, as if your likes and dislikes are not a consideration to be taken into account. For him, you suppose they’re not. “Besides.” Hands travel from your hips to cup your breasts, squeezing the meat of the mounds so that you groan and arch your back, desire pooling between your legs. “I wanted to see these. I wanted to touch them.” He grins. “I wanted to imagine how nice they’re going to look when they get bigger.”

He squeezes the point of each of your nipples, so hard that the pleasure almost becomes pain.

“I think I’ll leave marks on you,” he says, conversationally. He pulls an arm back and suddenly has slapped you, your breast stinging, a brief imprint of his hand showing on your skin. He admires how your breast moves with the force – you’re too surprised to even make a noise of pain. “Good girl. I want you to remember how I feel when we’re done.”

You don’t think you could forget. You definitely can’t forget the sting of the second slap, this one making you moan – it hurts, but part of it feels good to be marked by him. You definitely can’t forget his thumbs hooking into your underwear, dragging it past your thighs – the way that he drinks in the wet patch on the fabric. You definitely don’t think you’ll be able to forget the chuckle that leaves his mouth as he spreads your thighs and sees your sex for the first time, already slick.

“You like being treated rough, huh?” He asks you. There’s that grin again; a predator, a man who has never been told no, a man who doesn’t know what it’s like to not have everything he has ever wanted at his fingertips. “Good. I like playing rough.”

He still doesn’t kiss you. He dives his head down, though, his teeth once more nipping at your neck, at your breast, tongue lathing across your nipples. One of his hand delves between your legs, spreading the plump labia, fingers briefly stroking your clit and sending a hot bolt of lightning all through you.

“That’s right,” he murmurs, as he pushes a finger inside of you. You’re slick and tight around his digits, hot and silky – one of his fingers alone is like a vice. You’re going to feel so good. He doesn’t much care whether his cock hurts you or not – but he wants you to be so fucked out by the time he’s come inside you that you don’t care about him leaving your legs propped up so not a single trickle of come leaks out of you. He doesn’t want a whimpering little bitch in his bed – he wants someone who’ll lie there, patiently, prettily, and let him make sure it takes.

You’re going to be good for that, he knows it. With a body like that, and eyes like that, and a clear longing for something better than the shitty hand you’ve been dealt? Oh, yes. You might not know it, but Naoya likes you immensely.

That you’re a servant, who’s been taught your place - that you’ll look at the ground respectfully and walk behind him and agree to whatever he says, like women should? Even better. Perfect. Fuck any of those snooty young women of a clan who think that just because they were born with a name, they were somehow more than a cunt for breeding--

Two fingers. This one gets a cry from you, almost too full – Naoya clicks his tongue against his teeth. He’s not patient, but he slows down, scissoring you open. One of your hands seems to flex out as if going to grab his bicep – but thinks better of it, clutching for purchase on the bed instead. Cute.

He can’t help but watch his fingers dive in and out of you, already coated in your liberal slick. They already look so good – he can’t even imagine how good his cock will look, hilted so deep in you he’s all you can feel.

Three fingers. You’re making soft little noises, circling your hips – there’s a coil in your belly that Naoya’s fingers are stoking in a way you didn’t expect, one that you feel like you’re so close to getting to spring forth – he slides his fingers out of you as he feels you tightening and tensing around him. If you’re close enough to come on his fingers, he reasons, you’re close enough to take his cock.

He didn’t expect to be so entranced by how pretty you looked, all curves and soft on his bed – but there’s time for that later. Right now, his cock is driving a hole through his own underwear. The thought of fucking his seed into you, of having you coming around his cock . . . you moan in frustration at the lack of stimulation as his hands busy themselves peeling off his own clothes.

“What’s the matter?” He asks you, a little breathless. You don’t notice that – good. He hates people witnessing weakness. “You need to be filled up?”

“I—” your teeth dig into your bottom lip, and Naoya has the urge to kiss you that he pushes back.

Not now. Not yet. Not while you’re still scum. He can transform you, and maybe you’ll be worthy of that – but right now, you’re an empty shell, and Naoya needs to mould you into something fuller and better before he’ll lower himself to brush his lips over your own. That’s too intimate. That’s too much.

“You don’t need to use your words,” he purrs. “You’re soaking wet.”

You urge your thighs further apart as Naoya’s clothes slip off of him and you see his cock jutting proud against his stomach. You haven’t had much experience to know whether it’s a nice cock, whether he’s big – but Naoya grins when he sees you looking, ferocity sparking in his expression.

“You may as well look at it,” he tells you, “because it’s going to be buried inside you in just a moment--”

He’s on the bed, his body on top of yours. His hands are clinging to the hips he’s admired so much, his grip tight enough to mark. His face is close enough that you can see the sculpt of his lips and the fan of his eyelashes, the dark pupils. The wet head of his cock smears precome on your thigh as he positions himself at your entrance – and as he sinks inside, your body welcomes him.

He hisses in fluid pleasure as his cock descends inside of you inch by slow, inexorable inch – the stretch, the burn, the slick fluid pleasure. This time, one of your hands does find purchase on his shoulder – but Naoya is enjoying the feeling of your walls kissing his cock, embracing him tight and deep, too much to snap at you for being such an insolent thing. Your nails leave little crescent moon marks in his shoulder that he decides to forgive. After all – you’ll have bruises in the shape of his handprints tomorrow, he knows it. He doesn’t have a single crumb of shame about it.

If he gets his way, you’ll have more than just those as a mark of tonight. He hilts inside you, his skin pressing hot against yours. You’re so full – he feels so very deep, buried as far as he can go. All of your breath has been knocked out of you.

Your eyes meet his for just a moment.

“Better hold on,” he tells you. “I told you I wouldn’t be gentle.”

The first pull out is swift, immediately thrusting back inside you with such force that your body rocks on the bed. He wasn’t lying about not being gentle; his hips quickly establish a punishing rhythm, helped along by the slick glide of your channel, the wetness leaking around his cock. He pulls you a little with every thrust, the hands on his hips assisting him being able to watch his cock drive in and out of your sex. It’s a mark of the strength he has that the only sign that you weigh anything at all is a huff of breath in between his thrusts – you’ve never exactly felt delicate in your life, but something about Naoya’s way of handling you makes you think that he could break you in half if he tried.

That is, if his rough thrusts in and out of you don’t split you in two first. You give up trying to do anything other than hold onto him, your mouth dropping open in a series of wordless wails and moans.

(Naoya prefers quiet women, he has to admit – but there’s something endearing about you giving up in bed, giving yourself to him in voice as well as body. Perhaps he doesn’t mind a loud woman, as long as the reason she’s loud is because he’s fucking her silly).

His skin slaps against your skin. The sound mixes with your own whimpers and gasps, Naoya’s quieter breathing, the embarrassingly wet sounds of his cock plunging in and out of you. The release that was denied to you earlier with his fingers is creeping back up on you again, all hot pleasure and tight tension. With every thrust, Naoya is hitting a spot amongst your plush walls that has your eyes rolling back in your head and your body all hot and needy. He doesn’t care if you come, really – this isn’t about you – but . . . just another of those things he supposes he could get used to, as the ball of pleasure inside of you finally unravels and you feel yourself come.

And oh, he could get used to that feeling too – how your walls pulsate around him, pulling his cock tighter inside of you, practically milking him. His hips just get faster, snapping against you like a man possessed – heh. Isn’t that funny?

Your chest is heaving, but he’s enjoying the feel of your hips too much to play with your tits again. When they’re all swollen with milk and bigger and rounder, he’ll probably fuck you again, slower . . . and then, he’ll get his feel of touching them. Just like he’ll get his feel of your thighs even plusher, your stomach rounder, your hips even better in his grip--

It’s those thoughts that push him over the edge. Your body softened and rounded with his child – his son, his heir. You’re fucking perfect for it. He groans, his hips snapping and driving so deep inside you that you think he’ll break – and then, he’s groaning, and his cock is pulsing inside you as the sensation of his come painting your walls hot and thick overtakes your senses.

He pumps his cock a few more times inside of you after the initial release, as if he’s trying to push his seed even further within you. You’re shuddering, exhausted, your body aching – and so, you don’t argue beyond a soft noise of pain at the unpleasant prickle as he pulls his cock out of you. You don’t argue when he slides a pillow beneath your hips and says;

“Keep your legs bent like that.”

Naoya takes a moment to admire you. Your pretty cunt is darkened from his aggressive fucking, clit swollen, slick with your own desire-- he frowns as he notices a drop of something whiter and thicker. That won’t do. Two fingers roughly push his come back into you, pressing it deeply, making you groan and your hips weakly thrust against them.

It’s cute that you’re still welcoming to his fingers; that your sex still sucks them in as if it’s greedy to be fucked again. Your eyes are half-lidded, glassy – your lips bitten dark. He thinks he could fuck you again and you wouldn’t even complain.

Yes. He grins at you. Give it a little while, to make sure his come takes – and then, he thinks, he will fuck you again. There’s no harm in being thorough, right?

#not sfw #naoya x reader #naoya zenin x reader #naoya zenin x you #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk posting #afab reader #fem pronouns #misogyny for ts #knives for ts #breeding for ts #writing #Anonymous #jjk writing tag

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writemywaytoyourheart · 3 years

Text

Aim For The Heart | Chapter 1: At First Sight

Pairing: hitman!jk x female reader

Genre: E2L, romance, angst, drama

WC: 4.5k

Warnings for this chapter: alcohol consumption, language, stalking kind of? I think that's all lol. Pls let me know if there is anything else I should put.

tag list; @teresaisla @hopekookies @moonchild1 @barbellastyles98 @ggukkieland @mwitsmejk @yukiehyukie

summary; Jeon Jungkook is an infamous hitman, known for his inability to fail at whatever job is thrown his way. At least, up until now. Y/n, a kind-hearted and full of life teacher, is his newest target. Jeon isn't sure who would put a hit on this seemingly innocent girl, but fortunately, that isn't his problem. All he has to do is pull the trigger.

Previous › Next

A bright smile graces your features as you tuck the little star-shaped peanut butter and jelly sandwiches into a tiny container, just barely getting two of them to fit as you squish them down a tad bit in order to get the lid clipped on.

Then you grab a little tangerine and a cheese stick to drop into your lunch bag along with the sandwiches, counting the number of items aloud to yourself as they make themselves at home and then you zip it all up.

"Th-There we go!" You lift your lunch for the day in triumph.

Your phone startles you when it starts to ring, then you grapple in your purse to find it. You pull it out and answer right before the last ring.

"Hello?"

"Hey, girl! Are you ready to go? I'm downstairs." The voice of your best friend comes through the phone and you look at the clock on your microwave. You stare at the little black screen, confused as to why the time isn't showing up before remembering that you were never able to figure out how to display the clock when you bought the microwave three years ago. So, you hold your phone out to look at the time.

6:32

"Oh geez! I didn't r-realize the time. I'll be d-down in a minute, k?" You say, earning a lighthearted laugh from the girl on the other end.

"Take your time, hun. I'm not in any rush."

You thank her quickly and hang up, then you run to your room to grab your favorite pink cardigan and throw it on over your white shirt. As you're hurrying out and grabbing your lunch, you stumble and knock your knee into an open lower cabinet that you had forgotten to close the previous night after pulling a pan from it to make dinner.

"Ouch!" You hiss in pain and rub the sore spot, although it does nothing to ease the ache. Then you grab your purse and run outside, almost forgetting to lock the door. But you remember just in time and clumsily lock it before rushing down the stairs leading to the parking lot of your apartment complex.

Your best friend, Mina, is laughing. You can see her through the windshield as she waves to you. Lifting a hand to wave back, you don't realize in time that your arms are full. You drop your lunchbox and have to crouch to get it again, only taking up even more of your time.

But Mina finds it hilarious and tells you so as soon as you slide into the car and fumble with your seatbelt to get it buckled.

"Honestly, ___. I can't believe you're still single. If I wasn't straight as a board, I'd be head over heels for you and all your shenanigans." She states in a matter-of-fact tone as she pulls out of the parking spot.

A blush creeps up your neck and you try to laugh it off, "D-Don't be silly." You whisper, turning your gaze outside to look at the fluffy white clouds decorating the sky beautifully. You smile and lean your forehead against the glass as you imagine lying on a soft cloud, just drifting in the air.

"If you c-could go anywhere at all, where would y-you go?" You ask Mina suddenly, turning to her. Her eyes are focused on the road but she bites her lip in thought at your question. "Mm, probably Italy. What about you?" She's used to your sudden questions and ramblings, so she smiles when you start to go off.

"I'd wanna go up in the c-clouds. I wanna sit on one and maybe even see a r-rainbow up close! I wonder if I could slide down the rainbow..." Your brows furrow in deep thought. "Or would I f-fall?" You turn to her again and she glances over to see your signature puppy dog eyes that you use when you are either confused, upset, or want something.

Mina turns back to the road, a tiny ache in her heart that she hides with a bright smile, "Girl, you would ride that rainbow straight down into a pot of gold!"

"Really?" Your eyes widen and you feel your heart lift at the image.

She nods and you giggle happily, "You can come w-with me, Mina." You say confidently, your gaze turning back to the sky. "We can sleep in the clouds and slide down rainbows for the rest of f-forever."

"Sounds like a deal."

By the time Mina pulls up to the school, you've discussed everything you'd do up in the clouds and what you'd eat when you're hungry (stardust, you've decided, is the best meal anyone could eat.)

You unbuckle and gather your things. Then you remember something and turn back to Mina, "Oh yeah. W-When are you leaving on your business trip?" You ask a tinge of sadness in your voice.

"This weekend," Mina says solemnly. "I'm sorry I won't be able to drive you for a while. I'll be gone for a month this time."

That makes your heart sting but you manage a small smile, "D-Don't worry about me. I can walk! I'm gonna m-miss you though."

"I'll miss you too, buttercup. We'll hang out this Friday night before I leave the next day. How about that?" Mina asks kindly.

You nod enthusiastically and she smiles, "Ok, get your butt in there before you're late! The bell rings in half an hour and you can't be late on a Monday." She urges you and you nod, hopping out of the car and thanking her again for the ride, reassuring her that you'll walk home from work today.

You blow her a kiss and she laughs as you turn and hurry into the school.

You're all set up only a few minutes before the kids are supposed to arrive, so you go onto Pinterest and look through your fairytale boards, feeling a little spark of joy in your chest.

A couple of minutes later, the kids start streaming through the door, greeting you with the same amount of enthusiasm as you greet them. Your kiddos love you so much that all the other teachers are jealous and they let you know it every day. Of course, you have the sweetest kindergarteners and they're always the best for you.

"Hello, Teacher! Good morning Miss ___! Teacher, look at my new haircut!"

"Hi, Jina! Hello M-Minhhyuk! Kun, your new haircut l-looks so good!" All the kids have bright smiles on their faces by the time they've settled in their seats.

You always start the day off by getting everyone to stand and do a few stretches, then you sing the nursery rhymes you learned yesterday and start learning a new one. You honestly have as much fun as the kids during the school day.

"Ok, l-little ducklings, have a seat!" You get their attention and they immediately oblige. Next, is the alphabet that you guys have been working on since the beginning of the year. Every little one sings it perfectly all the way through and you give them a round of applause and they each get a little punch in their reward cards.

The rest of the day goes by smoothly, with only one temper tantrum thrown and that was resolved quickly.

It's nearing the end of the school day and the kids are all playing during their free time. You're sitting with Ae-Cha, a small and fairly quiet girl, playing with colorful blocks; the both of you competing to see who can build the highest tower. You've learned that she responds well to playing games when there isn't too much talking involved.

You're constantly glancing around the room to make sure everyone is safe and playing nicely and you're always pleased. They've all improved so much since the beginning of school back in September. It's June now and they've all learned their alphabet and how to play nicely with their new friends, along with so many other things. They've really made you so proud this year. You can even hear them reciting the alphabet and nursery rhymes to each other as they play.

Your heart warms at the sound of tiny voices filling the room as they sing. Then you glance at the clock and realize the bell will be ringing in a few minutes. So, you declare Ae-Cha the winner with her foot-high tower of blocks and she beams proudly. Then, you get up and clap three times, "One, two, th-three! Eyes on me!" You singsong, then smile when the kids immediately respond by clapping twice and shouting "One, two! Eyes on you!"

"G-Great attention today, everyone! Alright, the bell will ring soon. Who can tell me w-what that means? What are we doing n-now?" A few little hands go up and you point to the little boy that raised his first, "Yes, Joon Woo?"

"We...Uhm...time to clean up toys...Uhm..." You smile to encourage him and he finishes cutely, "Time uh, to clean up our toys and pack bags."

"Yes! Thank you, Joon Woo. It is t-time for us to clean up and make sure our bags are packed up and ready for h-home!"

The kids start to pick up their toys as you put on the cleaning song that you play every day for them. You all sing along until the room is all tidied and their bags are packed with their homework papers.

You always give them little mazes to do for homework to get their little brains to learn to concentrate, along with instructions on what to draw to show the class the next day. Today, their homework is an extremely easy maze, a coloring page with the alphabet and instructions to draw themselves doing their favorite activity. The kids always love drawing pictures and sharing them with the class and it's a good ice breaker for the shy ones at the beginning of the day.

You always have less and easier homework for the kids on Mondays and Fridays, it just seems fair to you that way. You also feel like it's good for kids to express themselves and be able to share what they like and dislike. You've found drawing helps with communication and creativity for the kids in your class.

The sound of the bell ringing makes a few of you jump, then you hurry to the door. "Alright, ducklings! T-Time to line up!" A few of the kids make quacking sounds as they line up, giggling and talking to their friends.

You smile and open up the door, holding it as the kids walk out in a straight line, some of them still quacking like little ducks.

You lead the kids to the front of the school and make sure they get into the correct line for the bus if they take it. You wave goodbye to them as the kids that take the bus climb on and they run to a window to wave back to you.

The rest of the kids that are left are soon picked up by their parents or siblings. You wave to Ae-Cha, the last student to be picked up. She smiles shyly and waves back before hurrying after her big sister.

After that, you go back to your classroom and finish a few things before packing up to go home. As you're leaving your classroom, you run into one of the other teachers coming from his own room.

"Oh, h-hello Mr. B-Baek!" You bow, missing the ugly sneer on his face as you smile brightly at him. He pushes his glasses further up his nose as he scrutinizes you with his beady little eyes. "You don't belong here, Miss ___." He snaps.

You look at him in confusion, "I-I'm sorry, I don't understand."

"I've waited the entire school year to say this to you. But now that we are nearing the end, I think you should know that you have no business being a teacher at this school. You ought to make the right decision to discontinue your work here." Mr. Baek watches your face fall with a sick sense of satisfaction.

"B-But, why?" You ask, still not understanding.

"First of all, you're inexperienced. You just got out of college last year, am I right?"

You nod uncertainly.

"You're still a child. Why should a twenty-two-year-old girl come marching in here and take a spot that should have been given to someone with more experience? And especially someone like you." He glares at you before turning on his heel and walking away briskly.

Someone like me? What does he mean by that?

You watch after him, feeling a tiny pinch in your chest. You aren't sure what he means, but whatever he's talking about, it sounds like he believes you shouldn't have become a teacher at all. At this school or another. You'll have to ask Mina later because you really have no idea where his rant came from.

Is there something wrong with you becoming a teacher?

You shake your head and laugh it off, "He's probably just had a bad day." You tell yourself as you make your way out of the school.

As you walk home, you sing quietly along with the song in your headphones, a little skip to your step.

You never notice the dark figure across the street, his eyes trained on your every move.

One day earlier...

Jungkook groans as he tosses and turns in bed, searching for his phone to turn the alarm off. He finally finds it and hits dismiss, tossing the phone back down and rubbing his eyes with a tired yawn.

After another minute he sits up and looks out the window, frowning at the sun seeping in and pooling across his floor in a golden river. He stares at a small bird that lands on his windowsill until it flies away.

Jungkook yawns again and reaches up to rub his eyes for the second time. After a few minutes, he's finally able to drag himself out of bed and into the shower. He almost falls asleep again in there, but he manages to make it out after half an hour.

With a towel wrapped around his waist, he makes his way to the kitchen and grabs a bottle of soju that's sitting on his tiny dining table to take a small swig from, finishing off what he'd left last night after his third bottle right before he passed out in bed.

He sighs and grabs a bagel, searching for the cream cheese he swears he saw in his fridge last night. A small smile appears on his lips when he finds it. He snatches it and makes sloppy work of spreading it on his bagel before tossing the leftover trash onto his counter and plopping onto the couch, snarfing down the first half of his bagel in thirty seconds.

Jungkook sighs through his nose as he tiredly chews his breakfast, then he glances down and sees the file he'd left open on his coffee table last night. He swallows the bite he has in his mouth and leans forward to read over it.

Y/L/N Y/N...

Why is that name so familiar?

He shakes his head and flips the file closed, then he leans back on the couch, wanting to spend his Sunday relaxing before he has to get to work on this case. He isn't going to think about it again until tonight.

Jungkook settles down and lays his head on the back of the couch, closing his eyes and breathing deeply.

He won't think about it.

Jungkook lays there for a minute, then he opens his eyes and lifts his head, glaring at the closed file on the little table.

He grunts in annoyance and drops the other half of his bagel onto the table, grabbing the file angrily and sitting back again. He opens it and starts to reread everything he's read many times since Friday. There's just something that has felt off since he met with Mr. Ling, but he can't put his finger on what it is.

Jungkook squints at the name he's read a thousand times.

Y/L/N...Y/N...

"Ugh." He rolls his eyes, frustrated at not being able to remember where he's heard that name before. Then he looks at the occupation.

Teacher at Sunshine Kindergarten.

His brows furrow again, much like they have each time he's read this. He's never had a hit on a teacher before, let alone a Kindergarten teacher. That's such an odd target...

Most of his targets in the past have been sleazy business owners, rapists, leaders of gangs that have terrorized neighborhoods for years, even other hitmen. He's never had a problem with those jobs, but there's something about this one that's telling him to be careful.

Maybe it's because he knows nothing about his client, except for the large sum of money he must have due to the pay he's been promised. Other clients of his were more than happy to explain why they wanted him to do what he does. They never paid him until after the job was done, either.

That leads Jungkook to believe that this guy (or girl) is desperate for his services, convincing him to do it with payment before and after. Almost as if Jungkook would refuse after he found out who the target was...

Jungkook flips the page and scrutinizes the picture of the target.

She's very simple looking, Jungkook thinks. The girl in the picture is wearing a white flowy skirt with a blue blouse that covers her whole arms and white chunky tennis shoes. Her hair is in a low ponytail and it seems like she has headphones in as she walks down the street. There's a tiny smile on her face as if she's thinking about something that makes her happy.

Jungkook doesn't find her particularly beautiful, but she isn't ugly either. She's just very...

Simple...

Jungkook shakes his head, his eyes going over the photo and the girl's smile one more time. Maybe she's a double agent? Or a part of the mafia disguising herself as a school teacher?

He can't figure it out.

It doesn't matter much though, the job seems simple enough and the pay is more than he's ever gotten. After looking through everything once more, Jungkook closes the file and grabs his bagel, quickly eating it before getting up to get dressed for the day.

That night, Jungkook lays out his outfit for the next day.

It's all black, but not suspicious-looking. After all these years, he's been able to design the perfect outfits to avoid attention being drawn to him and simple enough so that no one would think much of him if he were to catch anyone's attention.

It might seem simple, but he prides himself on being able to get each part of his job perfectly designed for each case he gets.

Heaven knows it's taken him years to accomplish.

After he's gotten that all figured out, he walks over to his closet and pulls out a small safe. Setting it on the bed, he swiftly unlocks it and looks inside. He pulls out a few things, examining each of them before he sets them one by one onto his bed. Once he's got the items all laid out, he steps back to look it all over.

"I should wait to decide..." Jungkook mumbles to himself. After a minute of staring at everything, he nods and gathers it all up, carefully putting it back into the safe and locking it tightly. Then he brings it back to his closet and shoves it into the darkest corner where it lives.

That can wait.

He pulls his phone out and checks the time.

11:45

"Damn it," Jungkook mutters. He had wanted to get some sleep earlier tonight since he would have to be awake early tomorrow.

He changes into some shorts, then he yanks his shirt off and immediately climbs into bed, not even bothering to shower or brush his teeth. He really couldn't care less with how tired he is. And he hasn't even started yet.

His alarm blares at an ungodly hour as Jungkook groans loudly, resisting the temptation to chuck his phone across the room.

"I hate Mondays." He mutters angrily, setting his phone back on the nightstand far from gracefully.

He miserably drags himself out of bed and into the shower, going through his morning motions almost like a robot. His brain isn't fully awake and it's just on autopilot right now.

An hour later, he's just finishing his coffee, his eyes no longer squinting in exhaustion. Jungkook unceremoniously drops his coffee cup into the sink, promising himself he'll clean it up later, then he sighs as he grabs his black boots, walking to the couch to sit and pull them on. After he's done lacing them up, he grabs the file he's been avoiding like the plague since yesterday morning.

He mutters to himself, looking at the name on the page.

"I know that name."

Then he smacks his forehead to get himself to focus again. He stands up and folds the page with the girl's information and then her picture and tucks them into the inside pocket of his black jacket.

Time to get to work.

Jungkook spots the girl almost instantly, the second she steps out of a black car. He glances at the driver, but can only see a person with shoulder length black hair waving. The girl from the picture has a bunch of things in her arms as she blows a kiss to the short-haired driver.

Jungkook has been here since six-thirty in the morning and just as he was beginning to think she called in sick for work, he's finally gotten a chance to see this girl in person. She looks exactly as he remembers from her picture...plain.

She's even wearing the same white skirt and chunky tennis shoes, although this time she has a different top. Her hair is in a high ponytail this time.

"Well, ___. Nice to meet you." Jungkook mutters, watching closely.

After a moment, the black car drives away as the girl scurries into the school, tripping on the last step before straightening herself out again, then disappearing from his sight.

Huh.

Jungkook stares at the door for another minute, then he makes his way to the stores nearby, knowing he's gonna have to wait until the girl leaves. School for the young kids typically gets out at around three-thirty. So, he'll have to be back here around then.

He's definitely going to need to find something to do to kill time.

Jungkook heaves a sigh of relief when he hears the school bell finally ring.

He hurries from the clothes store he was browsing and down the street a block until he's almost across the street from the school. He finds a good spot where he can sift through some newspapers at a little stand and still have an eye on the school.

After a minute, he sees a long line of tiny children coming out from the school. The girl is with them and smiling brightly. Jungkook thinks he can hear some of the kids quacking like ducks. He tries not to look puzzled as he goes back to talking to the person working the paper stand. Jungkook makes small talk with the old man, still keeping an eye on the girl across the street as she waves to each child that leaves.

If she's some mafia boss disguised as a kindergarten teacher, she's one hell of a good actress.

"Do you have a girlfriend?" The old man inquires curiously.

Jungkook laughs softly and shakes his head, "No. I've been so busy with my work I never got the chance to date."

The man nods knowingly. They chat a bit more and Jungkook finds himself trying to balance talking to the man and watching the girl.

"Well, did you want to buy a paper for the day?"

Jungkook turns his gaze back to the old man and nods, "Yes. Two, please. My neighbor would probably enjoy one as well."

The old man laughs and nods, taking the money Jungkook hands him and giving him two papers, "What a kind young man you are. Someday you'll find a lovely young lady, don't you worry, son. You will realize that work is important, but love is even more so."

Jungkook just laughs and thanks the man, then he opens the paper as he slowly starts walking, pretending to read.

He stops at a bench and sits down to wait. The girl went back into the school a few minutes ago, hopefully, she won't be in there long.

Luck seems to be with him today, because, after only about five minutes, Jungkook sees a familiar white skirt flowing as she skips down the steps of the school.

He folds his paper carefully, tucking it into his back pocket. The girl puts little earbuds in and immediately starts to mouth the words of whatever song she's listening to. Jungkook tugs his black baseball cap down a little more as he follows on the other side of the street.

The girl has a bag decorated with cupcakes and cookies that bounces up and down as she dances a little.

What is she, twelve?

Jungkook watches in confusion as the girl stops to pet a dog, giggling when the puppy licks her hand. She straightens up, then after another minute, she seems to get distracted by something else.

Jungkook looks carefully and notices she's picked up a flower that was laying on the ground, seemingly trampled on. She gently holds it in her hands as she continues on her way. It goes on like this for the next fifteen minutes, the girl waving to people and smiling almost the whole way.

By the time she is walking up the steps to her apartment, Jungkook is dying to just get back home. That must have been the longest most annoying walk he's ever taken while tracking someone. The girl had stopped over twenty times, distracted by something else each time, he's sure of it.

Just to be sure, Jungkook lingers around the apartment building a little longer, but when it seems apparent that the girl is going to be staying there, he finally heads home.

Geez, Jungkook thinks in annoyance as he climbs the stairs that lead to his own apartment. His head is spinning with so many questions while he unlocks his door and yanks his boots off with a groan.

But when he plops down onto his bed in his tiny studio apartment, he just stares at the ceiling, his mind suddenly blank apart from one question.

Who in the hell would put a hit on this girl?

a/n: I hope you guys are liking the setup so far, thank you for all the positive reactions from the prologue!

539 notes · View notes

doctenwho · 3 years

Text

Hangovers, Love and Space Vodka (PE Pt. 2)

Hello! Requests are definitely open, even if I’m awfully slow! I feel bad at how slow these are coming out especially since there’s so many in waiting, but writing just hasn’t been on the table recently. Apologies for that!

But I’ve found the time and the motivation, so I decided to get this done! Thank you for your patience! This is such a cute idea, and it always makes me happy that people like the first parts enough to request a continuation. I had a lot of fun writing it, so I hope you readers like it too!

So, please enjoy the continuation of Purest Expression (also, you should probably read that one if you haven’t already, this fic heavily references it!) Also, I just thought the name was funny and I was in desperate need for one, so feel free to suggest others if you’ve got one!

Warnings: Talk of alcohol, but no drinking!

Word Count: 4,050

Summary: Check out the prompt above! :)

(Gif doesn’t belong to me, credit to the talented creator!)

You didn’t really remember a lot when you woke up. All you really knew was you'd drank far too much of that delicious cocktail, and that your brain was pounding in your head. This was quite possibly one of the worst hangovers you’d had, but honestly, you’d do it all over again to have another one of those space cocktails.

You rolled onto your back, lifting your hands to cover your eyes in an attempt to block out what little light managed to stream into the room. Your stomach churned at the movement, but it settled out easily enough after you didn’t move a muscle for a few minutes following your roll.

You relaxed back into the bed when your stomach settled down, and finally uncovered your eyes, staring up at the ceiling with a bleary gaze.

As you laid there, you tried to piece together the evening. The bits and pieces between arriving and having enough to drink that you could no longer walk a straight line.

You knew you’d gone out on the town with the Doctor—he'd been excited to show you things. He'd raved enthusiastically about the planet, and you’d listened along as your own excitement grew too. Then, you remember finally stepping out of the TARDIS and being completely astounded by this new planet, with all its colours, music and general liveliness.

The cute little bar wedged between two buildings; you remember that too. And of course, you remember the cocktail—you'd had two, or three, or... had it been four? You couldn’t really pinpoint it. The Doctor had said it was weaker than earth vodka, and maybe it was, but the after effects were definitely more intense to a human that human vodka was. That said you’d still be down for another drink or two before you left.

It was well worth the pain of a hangover to taste that drink again. Just the thought of it made your tastebuds tingle.

You let out a light laugh before rolling back over onto you side, but this time following it up with pulling yourself to a sitting position. The nausea was still there, but hardly noticeable; just a subtle warning to keep your movements slow and steady lest you start gagging.

Your head was still pounding, but you knew that wasn’t going to go away without pain killers, so you stumbled to your feet to go find the Doctor. He’d have something that could help, and at this point, you didn’t care what planet it came from, so long as it killed the raging headache and... well, didn’t kill you.

You found the Doctor in the kitchen of all places.

He was perched at the kitchen table with a mug of coffee in front of him, as well as a book. He startled when you stepped into the room, breathing a light, “oh, (Y/N),” as a greeting.

You continued into the room, wobbling on your feet for just a second, “good morning,” you greeted in return, forcing a smile onto your lips despite the headache, “you don’t happen to have any pain killers do you?”

The Doctor frowned, “are you unwell?”

“Just a bit of a hangover,” you promised with a wave of your hand, “a little worse than an earth alcohol hangover, but it’s manageable. I’ll be fine, my head just really hurts.”

“Right, of course,” the Doctor nodded, pushing himself up and moving towards the cupboards. He rifled around the cabinets, reading labels of things and putting them back before he finally found what he was looking for, “these aren’t of your earth, but they are basically the same thing as your planet’s Advils. I’m sorry I don’t have anything that’ll help from your earth, I should really invest in some if I’m going to keep soliciting companions from earth.”

“Soliciting?” You snorted a laugh, which made you wince lightly, “really?”

“Well, I do tempt you humans away with the offer of the entirety of the universe, now, don’t I?” You smiled at the Doctor’s cheeky grin as he joined you at your side, setting the pill bottle in front of you to do with as you pleased, whether that was to ignore it, or take a couple, before he carried on to the counter. “No different really, I offer the universe in exchange for companionship, and I’m proud to say very few have ever declined. Now, would you like a tea, or coffee?”

“Jokes on the ones who declined, they’re really missing out,” you huffed out as you picked up the pill bottle, surveying over the list of ingredients. None looked too out of the world, but honestly, you’d do anything at this point to ease the thrum of your headache, so you uncapped the bottle, “surprise me.”

The Doctor turned back to flash you a grin from where he’d busied himself at the counter, “will do, my Dear.”

You shook a few pills into your hand from the bottle, eyeing them as if they were about to change colours or something similarly alien-like, but when none of that happened, you frowned, “how many do I take?”

“Well...” the Doctor turned thoughtfully to lean against the counter, “I’d say to start off with one and see if it does anything for you. There will be small differences from planet to planet, and we wouldn’t want you to overdose. After a half an hour you can try taking another pill if one doesn’t help.”

“Sounds good,” you popped a single pill into your mouth before you could hesitate. As if the Doctor was magic, he slid a mug of you go-to morning beverage towards you, and you washed the pill down with a sip of the perfectly prepared drink.

You savored the taste of your drink, sighing into the warmth. When you’d had a couple sips, you put the cap back on the pill bottle and slid the bottle to the center of the table. You watched the Doctor move around the small kitchen as he made himself another coffee before joining you at the table.

The two of you settled into a silence, thankfully. You hunched over the table, your elbows on the surface and your cheeks cupped in your palms, as the Doctor continued reading, but he looked like he was lost in his thoughts instead of actually reading.

“How long have you been up?” you asked slowly, squeezing your eyes shut before blinking them open again to see the Doctor’s gaze on you. “You’re kinda spacing out.”

“I’ve just... some things on my mind,” the Doctor admits with a tiny curl upwards of his lips. It didn’t really answer the question, but at the same time it did. You didn’t think the Doctor had even gone to sleep. “Has the headache eased at all?”

Your mouth formed an ‘o’ shape noticing suddenly that the headache was in fact almost gone. You hadn’t even realized, “yeah,” you informed with a laugh, “almost gone. I didn’t even notice—space things are so much better than earth things; the drugs and alcohol.”

“That would be a very worrying observation if I didn’t know exactly what you were talking about,” the Doctor snorted a laugh. You laughed along too, even if the statement was completely true—it had only been about ten minutes and the space Advil was already working wonders, where as the earth stuff could take anywhere from fifteen to thirty minutes to actually kick in.

“So,” you drawled after another string of comfortable silence between the two of you, “what’s been on you mind then?”

The Doctor eyed you up and down briefly before sighing, running his fingers through his hair and making his already untamed locks stand up at odder angles, “I was just thinking about yesterday.”

“Yesterday,” you parroted under your breath. You’d been thinking about yesterday too. How could you not be? There were still gaps in time where you don’t really remember what happened. “What happened yesterday?”

“You don’t remember?” The Doctor blinked.

“No, I do,” you leaned back in your chair with a sigh, “well, most of it, I think. But some of it... I don’t know? It’s kind of a blur. I guess the cocktails started hitting me towards the end of the evening, I barely remember coming back.”

“You were a bit out of it,” the Doctor admits sheepishly, “glad I cut you off at three drinks then.”

“I could’ve handled more,” you scoffed, smiling widely in a teasing way.

The Doctor rolled his eyes, leaning forwards, closer to you as his voice dropped, “I do believe three is probably your limit, Love.”

You let out a bout of bright laughter and the Doctor smiled softly. You loved how easy it was to banter with the man—how the two of you were so comfortable with the other that you could tease back and forth like this.

As if to prove his point, your head gave a warning thrum of pain that drew a shallow breath from you, “yeah,” you shook the pain off, “you’re probably right about three being my space-cocktail limit.”

The Doctor shook his head fondly at you as he settled back in his chair, “so, anything you’d like to know about yesterday? I did promise I’d tell you anything you’d like to know?”

You thought back to what you remembered about yesterday: the walk from the TARDIS to the bar, the ideal seating at the bar, those amazing rainbow cocktails that tasted like dreams. Drinking and chatting and laughing with the Doctor—splitting a plate of chips that were unbelievably delicious... and then... well, the space English the TARDIS didn’t bother translating for you.

“What was the bartender saying to you?”

The Doctor drew in a breath as his cheeks dusted the faintest pink, “nothing important, I assure.”

“C’mon,” you pouted, cradling your half drank, significantly cooled drink between your hands as you leaned towards the Doctor this time, “you said you promised to tell me about yesterday, right?”

The man chewed at his lip, subdued, but clearly trying to figure out the best course of action, “alright, well, we... I suppose we were acting a tad bit... involved? And... some assumptions were made about us by the barkeep.”

“Involved how?” you raised a questioning eyebrow. “And... what kind of assumptions?”

“Involved involved,” the Doctor cleared his throat, eyeing your level of understanding before rubbing his forehead and adding, “uhm, romantically involved. Those were, well, the main assumptions made as well.”

You gaped for a second before a thought came back to you suddenly, “he kept calling us lovers.”

“Yes,” the Doctor managed a light, fond smile, “I did try to explain it to him: us, our companionship—but, well, he... he didn’t believe me.”

“He didn’t believe you?” You repeated back, surprised.

“No,” the Doctor laughed, rubbing the back of his neck, “he made some pretty solid points in favor of us being romantically involved too, actually.”

“Oh yeah?” you teased, “and what points might those be?”

“Well, we were sitting fairly close--”

“As friends do,” the excuse came easily. The Doctor raised an eyebrow, but continued on like you hadn’t spoken.

“--I was hovering close to you, I suppose... A bit at least--”

“You were worried about me,” you interjected with a fond eyeroll at how wrong the bartender had been. Lovers? Come on, no way. You guys were... you were friends. Obviously. Though the thought of the Doctor hovering over you, making sure you were okay warmed your heart.

“--we leaned into each other’s sides, uhm, multiple times throughout the evening--”

You struggled for an excuse for that one, you did tend to lean into his space, not that the Doctor ever seemed to mind. And he liked to press into your personal space as well—neither of you really cared about proximity, so you managed a one shouldered shrug, “it was just loud in the bar, hard to hear each other.”

“--and, well, he pointed out I was staring at you occasionally; odd for him to have noticed, when I didn’t even realize I was doing it.”

You couldn’t come up with an excuse for that one, eyebrows furrowing in confusion that made your breath catch in the weirdest way. He’d been staring at you? Why did that make you feel so happy?

“And then the fact that you returned the stare when I wasn’t looking. Honestly, that barkeep spent more time watching us than he did working last night, I’m sure.” The Doctor let out a playful scoff, genuinely amused that the bartender had put more time into them than his job.

You however, were suddenly caught up in the information.

He’d been staring at you when you weren’t looking—fondly, you were sure, if it had caught the bartender’s attention and led him to believe the two of you were in a relationship. Then there was the fact that you were staring at him in return? You’d been caught by someone staring at the Doctor? You knew you did it sometimes, how could you not? He was a good-looking, kind, compassionate man who liked your company. Just being with him made your heart speed up.

“That doesn’t mean we’re a couple,” you forced yourself to say, even if... well, you were questioning it just slightly. You knew, of course, that the two of you weren’t a couple but... “That bartender was just bored and looking too far into us, I’m sure he was doing it to everyone...”

“Of course not, surely we’d know if we were, right?” the Doctor agreed with a light grin. The grin only lingered for a second before it faltered and he chewed at his bottom lip. You were about to question it, but he spoke again before you could, “but, well, I suppose there is the song he had to go off of as well.”

“The song?” You questioned before it all flooded back—well, most of it, at least, “we were on a stage. We... we sang together. Was that a karaoke bar or something?”

“We were,” the Doctor ducked his head in a nod, “we... did. And it, well, it was kind of like your earth karaoke bar. Do you remember anything about it?”

You tried to remember, you know the Doctor explained it last night after he’d gotten the information from the barkeeper, but you still don’t really know. And you’re sure there were bits and pieces that he didn’t tell you last night as well. So, you shook your head.

“Right,” the man nodded, settling his elbows on the tabletop as he held his chin up, “well, the concept of the song ritual we were roped into performing is that you sing whatever song best corresponds to what you think about your peer. I’m not exactly sure how it works to be honest, the expression through song is just strong.”

“So, whatever I felt about you would be... conveyed through a song?”

“Yes.” The Doctor gives a light nod.

“And whatever you felt about me would... would also be?”

“Indeed,” his head tilts as he surveys you, trying to piece together where you were going with this string of questions.

“But... we sang a duet, didn’t we?” You furrowed your eyebrows, running a finger along the rim of your mug. You faintly remembered chiming in with the Doctor’s song, instantly knowing the new lines to his song despite not knowing his lines, or the actual song. “Does that happen? What... what does it mean?”

“Well,” the Doctor cleared his throat, looking nervous. “It does happen, it’s just, well, it’s rare? I suppose. The barkeeper, just before we left, told me that the last time he saw a duet happen during the expression through song ceremony was when he was a child.”

“Wow, okay,” you bit the inside of your cheek. You had a feeling you knew what it meant, and the thought made your cheeks heat up, but you asked anyways, “what does a duet mean?”

“Well, generally speaking...” the Doctor shot you a small, crooked smile, “it means that we feel exactly the same way about each other. Exactly the same to the point that our expression would be through the same song, at the same time.”

“Wow,” you couldn’t help but repeat, “that’s... wow. So it really is unusual then? Why did it happen to us? Was it a fluke?”

“No, don’t think so,” the Doctor shakes his head, a blush rising to his cheeks as his fingers tap against the table, “something like that would be hard to fake, so I doubt it was a fluke. We chose the song—deep in our subconscious when thinking of the other... I mean... I didn’t know the lyrics beforehand, did you?”

“No,” you breathed out, fingers fiddling with your empty mug, “I don’t even think I remember the lyrics now. They were just... in my head when they needed to be. I didn’t even know your lines of the song. It’s weird that we were the people that got the duet—random visitors.”

“It was the same for me,” the Doctor sends you a small smile, “I think few people view their... companion the same way their companion views them. It seems highly unlikely that any two people can feel the exact same way...”

You’re not sure why, but there’s something different about the way the Doctor says companion this time around. Maybe he holds a different fondness than you’re used to, or perhaps some other reason, but there’s an unfamiliar warmth in the word.

“But we did,” you whisper, looking up momentarily and catching the Doctor’s eyes before dropping your gaze back to your cup.

“But we did,” the Doctor repeats, just slightly louder than you. Like he too can’t wrap his brain around it. There’s a pause before the Doctor’s clearing his throat, forcing a crooked smile onto his lips. “Well, I promised you we head to the shops for some alcohol and other treats, didn’t I?”

The Doctor stands, moving swiftly towards the door without looking back.

“I meant it, you know?” You speak before you even realize you’re speaking. You don’t see the Doctor stop, since you’re facing the other direction, but you hear his steps come to a halt, feet planting in spot.

He doesn’t say anything for a second, which prompts you on, “I do need you.”

He still doesn’t say anything, or move, so you stand and gather both your mug and his own, walking in the opposite direction from him towards the sink. You set the mugs in but don’t touch the faucet, instead mumbling a soft, “I want you.”

You’re not even sure if he’d still there anymore, or if he’d taken you moving as his cue to escape. You don’t turn to look, afraid to not find him there, so instead you whisper what little of your lyrics from yesterday that you remember, “come on back to me.”

Another moment of silence drags in before you hear the Doctor moving. His steps are quick, and you think he’s leaving out the door when suddenly hands are on your waist and he’s swiftly turning you around and gently pushing you against the edge of the counter beside the sink.

You manage to muffle your surprise as his lips press against yours, soft but urgently all the same.

You melt into his lips, eyes slipping shut as his hands leave your waist, one wrapping around your middle, as the other rises to cup at your jaw. It spurs you on too, your arms wrapping around his neck and pulling him just slightest bit close, to which he blindly follows your lead.

You don’t pull away until the need to breath outweighs how good it feels to be kissing him.

You both gasp for breath, but neither of you pull away, lips still touching the faintest bit, “I didn’t think you even remembered the lyrics... how... intimate the duet was...” It’s the first thing the Doctor’s said since trying to flee the room.

You slowly open your eyes, catching his eyes waiting to make contact and a smile pulls at your lips. You pull away a bit, pushing your forehead against his, “I didn’t really remember the lyrics until just now, but I never forgot the feeling of singing them to you, and hearing you singing them back to me.”

The arm around your waist tightens around you, “I didn’t know you felt the same way,” the Doctor whispers. “I didn’t want to... make you uncomfortable, or chase you away. And then you woke up this morning, and didn’t remember anything with the hangover, so I... was going to let it go.”

You’re sure you make a noise of protest, maybe even disappointment, but you only assume because the Doctor lets out a chuckle before stealing another kiss that you’re more than happy to give.

When he goes to pull back, you snake your hand up to hold him in place, mumbling softly against his lips the last of your lyrics, a message he’d sure to understand, “I love you sundown.”

The Doctor freezes against you pulling back just enough to look into your eyes before a smile creeps onto his face. You smile at his smile, watching him fondly as his head tilts in that adorable way, affection bright in his eyes, “and I, you, my Love.”

You melt at the words leaning into him and pressing your head against his chest, fitted perfectly under his chin like a puzzle piece. Your arms wrap around him, and his move to hold you against himself just as you had done to him seconds earlier.

You stay like that for a while—you're not sure how long. You feel protected tucked against the Doctor, and it’s a feeling you’re never going to forget.

“How’s your head?” he asks softly above you, the voice after so long of nothing by his steady heart beats startles you. The Doctor presses an apologetic kiss to the top of your head.

“Better,” you decide, nuzzling closer to him, “why?”

“Well, I did promise we’d check out the shops, if you’re feeling up to it.”

“I almost forgot about that,” you laugh, finally pulling away. The Doctor unwraps his hand begrudgingly, frowning as he does so. You let out a laugh, slipping your hand into his. “I wanna see the shops before we leave this evening. We’ve gotta get some of that vodka.”

“I see more hangovers in your near future,” the Doctor snorts as he leads you along by the hand.

“Oh, and, we should definitely pick up a gift for the bartender from last night,” you add, ignoring the Doctor’s teasing jab at your weak human alcohol tolerance.

“Why’s that?”

“Well, without his instance that we sing, and his instance that we were a couple, none of this,” you gesture down to your interlocked hands as the two of you step out of the TARDIS and onto the busy, colourful streets, “would’ve happened.”

The Doctor’s quiet for a second as the two of you fall into step. “There’s nothing in the universe that can ever thank him enough for what he’s done,” the man softly admits, giving your hand an adoring squeeze that drives his words home.

Your cheeks heat up as you tuck yourself in his side. He moves easily to accommodate you, releasing your hand to wrap his arm over your shoulders instead. You move your hand to squeeze around his waist, grinning as you respond cheekily, “I don’t know, Doctor, the space vodka is pretty good...”

The man sputters at your response, glancing at you with a raised eyebrow, “I was being all cute and you’re comparing the gift of our newfound relationship to vodka?” the man questions, genuinely dumbfounded.

You give a one shouldered shrug at his side, giggling at his reaction. It wasn’t long until the man was letting out a fond sigh, thumb stroking against your collarbone, “what am I going to do with you?”

The tease in his words has you smiling. There really is nothing in the universe that seems equivalent to the gift the bartender bestowed to you, but... yeah, a bottle of space vodka was a nice start.

<><><><>

Hello again! Hopefully you liked this continuation. Not sure if it kept to the prompt exactly, I got a bit carried away writing it, but nonetheless, I hope it was good! Feel free to prompt again if it wasn’t what you were looking for, as always!

I’ll try to keep up with the prompts but idk how well I’ll be able to manage between life and the other works in other fandoms. Anyways, hope you have a great morning/day/night!

#Tenth Doctor #tenth doctor x reader #tenth doctor x you #10 #10th doctor #10th doctor x reader #10th doctor x you #doctor who #doctor who 2005 #reader insert #dw #TARDIS #ten #writing prompt #writing requests #fanfiction #fanfic

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softscummymammon · 3 years

Text

€Unexpected Acquaintance€

Assisted by:: @jinjinjinjin

❃.✮:▹»»——⍟——««◃:✮.❃

Sukuna just wanted this day to end. He was already in a bad mood from the storm last night, where he got little of his much needed sleep, and his mood had only gotten worse when he was faced with a bunch of "nature friendly" bastards protesting near the docks where his boat was tied down.

Now, he just wanted to get his daily load of fish for the market, and have a nap without dealing with any other goody two shoe hypocrites. He could already feel the headache building up behind his eyes.

Though the gentle rocking of the boat over the surface of the water did ease him slightly. People besides other fishermen were always so confused when he actually said something about himself and it happened to his be career in fishing. They were always so astounded when he said he could stay on a boat for a whole day. Weaklings, all of them.

Rubbing at his sore eyes, Sukuna glared at the surface of the horizon and took a sip of the alcohol in his canteen. Tucking the tin back into his wader's pocket, he patted the pocket for safe keeping.

Walking to the front of the boat, he checked his net markers he left a few days ago. Sukuna gasped when he saw his marker bobbing up and down frantically. Getting his equipment ready, he tugged on some gloves and grabbed at the net right under the marker.

Taking a breath, Sukuna started tugged on the net. Grabbing every piece of net coming from the water, Sukuna huffs as he pulls the net further and further from the water. The sound of splashing water reached his ears and he smirked in victory.

Putting all the access netting into one hand, Sukuna quickly reaches behind him for the mechanical hook. The machinery on his boat was built and bought by him only, so only he knew how it worked. By reaching for the net first, he can easily tie the access onto the hook and pull up the rest of it out of the water.

Doing exactly what was needed, he tied the net to the hook and grabbed onto the leaver and started cranking the leaver clockwise. The machinery raised the net out of the water better than he ever could. The load he hauled onto his deck made him smile and rub his hands together gleefully.

" This shipment is definitely worth a pretty penny. Now, all I gotta do it sort you out, fish sticks. "

*Slap* "Who you callin' fish sticks, blubber mouth?! "

Sukuna froze. Looking up, he raised his hand to his face and wiped away some water the fish that had been thrown at him left on his cheek. Peering down at the fish now flopping on his deck, he gave the thing a death glare; as if that would give him any answers. He must really be going crazy-

"Up here, blubber-for-brains. "

His eyes snapped up towards the voice. But the air in his lungs escaped as if they were punched out of him. A human(?)'s upper torso was visible at the top of the net. It was leaning against the hook of the machinery and was throwing and catching a fish in its hand.

Sukuna raised a brow, " What the fuck? "

The thing raised one of its brows back, " Nice use of language, Oh Smart One. I thought you humans were supposed to be intelligent. Though, every one of your kind I've encountered uses fowl language, so smarts must just be a myth. "

Sukuna growled at the things snarky commentary, " Oh yeah? And what kind of intelligent creature like you gets stuck in a fishing net, huh? So much for being smart. "

The thing snarled, showing off rust colored stained teeth dyed by no doubt blood as sharp as many of Sukuna's own fileting knives. It held tightly onto the fish in its hand, " Watch your mouth, human, I still got a whole lotta of ammo here, and your face is lookin' like a big ol' target from where I'm sittin'. "

Sukuna rose an unimpressed eyebrow and pulled out a harpoon gun he kept in the captain's quarters, " Mine hurts worse. "

The thing flinched back and hissed at the gun, but slowly set down the poor he probably squeezed to death in his panic. The thing made a whiny sound in the back of its throat, " I didn't choose to get stuck here. I was getting chased by some shark mers. Those nasty ones only know the smell of blood and the next potential meal. I'd choose to be anywhere else right now, trust me. "

Sukuna huffed, " Yeah, sure. " Putting away the gun, Sukuna sighed and looked back up to the sulking thing. Looking closer, he was the slightest shine of scales decorating the cheeks, neck, and forearms of the thing. Its eyes were steely and sunken in, as if it's seen things beyond it's life time.

Sukuna chuckled upon realization, " You're a mermaid, aren't you? "

The mer scoffed, " Merman, thank. But 'mer' is just fine. I still don't get why ya humans always gotta gender code things. Damn, just call us what we are? "

Sukuna chuckled again, " What? Nuisances? "

The mer hissed again, " We wouldn't be if ya humans knew to keep to yerselves. Ain't this section of the coast off limits to fishers like yerself? "

Sukuna shrugged, not giving an answer. The mer scoffed and crossed it's arms over it's chest. Sukuna looked at it up and down, taking in everything he could. He hummed delightfully.

The mer must have caught on, " What'cha lookin at me fer? Think I'm some sorta snack for yer to eat? "

Sukuna shook his head no, " Nah, I was just rememberin how much one of your kind goes to sell on the blackmarket. You gotta be worth something. No rich bastard would give up the opportunity to call a thing like you pet. "

The mer's eyes went thin, but already creamy skin paled considerably, " You wouldn't... "

Sukuna rose a brow, " Oh, and why wouldn't I? I could definitely use the money. "

The thing stayed quiet, before it soon started to shake. Sukuna was about to sneer and comment about it being weak, but paused when a face formed from agony and rage shot up to glare at him. Sukuna had to keep himself from tensing and tried to look as calm as he could be.

The mer growled, " That's all that ya humans are. Selfish and greedy monsters only willing to do something if you get money in return. Do you know how many of our kind is sacrificed, hunted, and killed just so the others can live? Just so you humans can play god and reap what we mer's sew. "

Sukuna gulped, remembering the auction show he was emailed an invite to since he contributed a large amount of fish to the CEO of the company. It was a disgusting show of wealth. How millionaires and billionaires fought over a small little thing that held a resemblance to the one right in front of him.

The mer wasn't done, but tears of grief started to roll down it's eyes, " How many of our guppies, our children, are pulled from our arms to be sold like live stock?! You are no better! "

Sukuna had enough of this tantrum, " Do not bundle me with those people! I'd never harm a child, even if I am considered a monster by other people. I will not allow it to be done by a fish like you! "

The mer shrunk back, breathing irregular and struggling, like a faint wheeze. It swallowed roughly and looked away. Sukuna rumbled, now over flowing with guilt he felt he should not harbor. Looking back up, he became slightly alarmed at the shallow and wheezy breaths the mer was taking.

Mer's need water, his mind supplied. Sukuna growled, and hackles raising when he caught the mer flinching again. Walking away from the net, he went down below deck on got out a giant glass tank he kept in case he needed to keep a fish alive for more profit.

Taking it up the stairs and on to the deck, he set it down on some secure boxes and grabbed a bucket to start filling it with water. He had to make haste though, or the mer would die from drownin? Suffocation? And all of this work would be for waste.

Once the tank was full and covered from the beating ray of the sun, Sukuna walked over to the leaver controlling the hook and rotated it counter clockwise. He watched as the machine lowered the net onto the deck and he let go of the leaver. Once the machine stopped, he stepped up to the net and untied it.

Being this up close and personal to the mer, he watched as the sun made the scales look iridescent. Slipping his arms underneath the torso of the fish being, he pulled it out of the other fish and dragged it towards the tank. The mer roused slightly, trying to fruitlessly push Sukuna away. The bigger man scoffed and dropped the mer into the tank.

The reaction was instant, the mer took a deep breath through the large gills covering it's side and it slumped against the rim of the glass tank. Sukuna watched, looking at the mer's tail that could he classified as art in itself. It was beautiful, though he would never admit it. The thin tarp Sukuna draped over some boxes didn't stop the light from the sun bouncing off the glittering scales.

Sukuna's gaze went back up to the mer's face, startling to see the mer was also looking at him. It's hair fell in it's face, blocking out most of it. It puffed, blowing some of the strands out of it's eyes to get a better look.

Sukuna hated the way his chest constricted at the show. The mer raised a webbed hand, and Sukuna slowly took it and shook it. He made a face when he pulled it back and fake gagged at the slimy feeling left on his skin. The thing laughed at his disgust and shook it's head, getting water everywhere.

It smirked, " The name's _____ _____. What's yours, blubber man? "

Sukuna sneered at the nickname, " That's not my name. It'd Sukuna Ryoumen, nothing else. "

The mer smirked, " Well now I gotta call you that every time I address ya. "

Sukuna growled, " Don't you dare. " The glint in the fish's eyes didn't quell any of the building dread that sat in the bottom of his stomach. He really debated on if he should sell the fish or not.

❃.✮:▹»»——⍟——««◃:✮.❃

#anime headcanons #jjk x male reader #ryōmen sukuna #sukuna ryomen #x male reader #male character #mermaid male reader #sukuna ryoumen x reader #sukuna x male reader #tw blood #tw gore #tw fishing #tw harmful endangerment #alternate universe

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helliontherapscallion · 3 years

Text

Phantasmagoria (Adrenaline Junkie Part 16)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 17

Spotify Playlist (collaborative)

Warnings: swearing, mentions of injuries, death, depersonalization, grief

REMINDER: you are real. the topics discussed in this is fiction and not reality. you are loved and valid, hydrate and eat 3 meals a day <3

Word count: 2,645

You were in and out of it for the next few days. Whenever your eyes would crack open and you would even slightly move your arm, you would be in immense pain before you would pass out again. You could sometimes hear the voices of your family talking to you, but never Arthur. Good, he definitely shouldn’t see you like this.

Whenever you heard Philza, he would be talking to you about all the journeys he’s been on in his hundreds of years of living. Oh yeah, you found out that he was an immortal being that can’t die. Your brain was too tired and clouded to contemplate it.

Whenever you heard Technoblade, his monotone and deep voice always eased your worries. It gave you something to focus on; if anything, his voice was the one that cut through the fog the most. He would always recite Greek myths to you, often telling you that you reminded him of a few characters.

Whenever you heard Wilbur, all you heard was him asking you questions such as ‘how was your day’ or ‘what do you think of someone-so’. He would talk to you as if you were conscious, often having one sided conversations with you. Sometimes he would bring his guitar and compose new songs, asking you if he should keep a lyric or if he should throw it away.

Whenever you heard Tommy, it broke your weak heart. It was like your little brother was a completely different person; his usually loud and upbeat tone was reduced to a quiet and broken one. He was the one that wouldn’t talk much, instead he would sit with you and eventually after a day or two (you think) of silence he would play his jukebox. But whenever he did talk (which was rare) he would tell you how scared he was seeing you like that on the table.

As time passed, you could feel yourself slipping deeper and deeper into your subconscious. It was like you were fading away, but you couldn’t fight against it. You wouldn’t fight against it; you could feel your pain fading and it was a great relief. You only wished you could hear your family’s voices before you completely left them, they were fading as well. Eventually, everything slipped into nothingness and you felt… euphoric.

When you opened your eyes, everything was black. You were sure that you had your eyes open, so why was everything so dark? Was this the afterlife? You expected it to be more… heavenly. However, you weren’t complaining; your entire body felt light and you felt waves of peace waft over you. This was nice. You didn’t have much time to relax while you were living.

After a while of staring into nothingness and just peacefully floating in one place, you became restless. Sure this was nice, but your hands itched to tinker with something. You’ve never done well with sitting in one place for too long, that’s always been your weakness. You tried to push your body off from anything so you could at least float around, but that proved useless when there was nothing to push off from. When you tried flapping your wings- well, wing- you only succeeded in spinning in circles. At least you thought you were spinning in circles, the inky abyss was unchanging and it was starting to mess with your perception. Your senses felt like they were deprived, but the worst thing about it was the overwhelming silence.

So, you talked to yourself to fill the ringing silence. You were merely voicing your thoughts, repeating your lessons you’ve taught Arthur over the last few weeks. After a while, you were running out of things to talk to yourself about. So, you sighed and crossed your arms. They were very pale, you were actually dead this time, huh? You could only wait to see your brothers and Arthur when it was their time, hoping that they wouldn’t come to you too soon. It pained you to remember that you would probably never see Philza again, but who knows; the universe has a strange way of working.

“It’s nice to finally meet you, (y/n).” You screamed at the soft voice that cut through the overwhelming silence and whipped your head around. There stood a woman that looked to be in her early thirties with long black hair and tanned skin. You could not see the upper half of her face as it was covered by a crow mask, however her eyes glowed a bright white. She was smiling at you with melancholy and bittersweet happiness. The two giant white feathered wings sprouted from her back were glowing slightly. The powerful and intense aura that loomed around her was the complete antithesis of the gentle smile she was giving you.

“Calm down,” she flew over to you and wove her hand in the air. You immediately felt a wave of calm ease over you. “That’s better. You’ve been through so much, my little fledgling.” Her little fledgling? That was something you’ve recently started to call Arthur.

“Who are you?”

“Oh where are my manners? I’m Kristin, the Goddess of Death. I wish I didn’t have to do this, but I’m here for your life.” You hummed, “that makes sense.” She tilted her head slightly and somehow the eyeholes of the mask morphed into an eyebrow raise. Was that her actual face? “You’re not scared of death?”

“No, I’ve already died twice- no, three times already. But this is- it’s different. Is that because I’ve lost my last life?”

“You’ll find out in due time. Ender, you’re everything Phil described you as and then some.”

You perked up slightly, “you know my Dad?” Her airy chuckle brought you even more at ease, “of course I do, he’s my husband.”

You gaped at her, “so does that- does that make you my mom?”

“Only if you’re comfortable with it, I wouldn’t want to push you into something you didn’t want.”

“I’ve always wanted a mom. D-don’t get me wrong, Dad’s done more than enough for me he’s an amazing parent-”

“I understand and I’d love to be the mother of someone so smart. You’re destined to do great things one day, my little fledgling.” You tilted your head slightly, “greater than being an inventor?”

She nodded, her black locks swaying with the movement, “greater than being an inventor. Our time together is coming to a close.” She flew over gracefully and pulled you into a hug. You reciprocated it. Her hug felt warm and welcoming. It was hard to believe that she was the Goddess of Death, you always thought Kristin would be ruthless and cruel.

“You will face many trials and tribulations and you must persevere through them. This is indeed your reality, but you share it. Do not be afraid to ask for help. The world can be a lonely place, but remember that you are never truly alone.”

She pulled away from you and placed a gentle kiss on your forehead, the beak of her mask poking you. Suddenly, the weightlessness feeling disappeared and you felt a tugging sensation from deep within your chest. Your body was sent flying through the abyss, the gripping sensation you felt in your inner chest felt very intimate somehow. After a bit of screaming, you were still flying through the void. You had no idea how long you were flying for, but eventually you just crossed your arms and went limp in the mysterious embrace. Aaaanny time now.

Eventually you saw a pinprick of light far off into the distance and it was rapidly approaching you. You sighed out a drawn out “finally.” And watched as it came at you at mach speed. After you crashed into it, everything went white.

You jolted up with wide eyes and looked around panting. You saw the walls of your childhood room? So you didn’t die? Then what the hell were you doing in the void? You were so sure that you died permanently. That you lost your last life. When you glanced out the window, everything was dark. When you sat up, you felt the familiar tugging sensation of the scar tissue around the base of your wing, except it was less intense and you had less mobility in your right shoulder. You glanced at the hearts on your wrist expecting to see three empty outlines. Instead, two ruby red hearts stared at you.

Impossible. Impossible. You were in your last life so even if you didn’t die, you should still only be in your last life. Your second life was taken from you in an explosion. It should not show up on your wrist. Furrowing your eyebrows, you ignored the sound of the door opening and footsteps rushing towards you. You ignored hands appearing in your vision and hovering unsure above your hand.

You only looked up when the hand grabbed your wrist and blocked the two perplexing ruby red hearts. You saw Philza with a look of immense relief on his face. “How’re you feeling?”

“I don’t know.” You looked back at your covered wrist and took it out of Philza’s grasp, staring at the two red hearts again in confusion. “I-I should only have one life. Where’s Arthur? Ender, he’s probably so scared. Did you leave my prosthetic in the cave?” Your rapid fire questioning was stopped by a hand on your shoulder.

“Slow down, you only just respawned.” You threw your hands up in frustration (well, you tried with your right arm, it only moved to about two thirds of your full range of movement before you felt a slight pain and a stretching sensation), “how the hell do I respawn when I was on my last life?”

“You aren’t-”

“Yes I am! Fuck man, how do you forget that?! First time: Warden. Second time: explosion! I know I just died for the last time, so how am I still here?!” You glared up at him. It astonished you that he just forgot about the first two times you died. Who forgets their own kids’ deaths? It takes a real monster to forget things like that.

“(Y/n), you’ve only died once and that was because the infection you got was too severe,” he put a gentle hand on your shoulder and pulled you into a hug. You pushed him away and seethed, “How do you not remember! Ender, did the last two and a half years just escape you? You’re fucking immortal, almost three years is nothing to you!”

“Two and a half- (y/n). Two and a half years ago you were fourteen and you were barely just learning how to do tricks midair.”

“No, I’m twenty years old! How the fuck do you forget your own kid’s age?”

“You turned seventeen six months ago, (y/n).”

You ran a frustrated hand through your hair and laughed sardonically, “I’m not dealing with your bullshit right now. Where’s Arthur?” You stood up with shaky legs and swatted his hands away. “I don’t know an Arthur. Please lay back down, you’re-”

“First you forget my deaths, next my age, and now Arthur?! What the actual fuck is wrong with you? Where is he?” You gritted the last sentence out through clenched teeth.

“Who-”

“Curly red hair, freckles, always smiling, about yay high,” you flailed your hand from side to side rapidly at your mid torso, “your grandson. That ring a bell?”

“No because I don’t have a grandson. Sit down, I think I know what’s happening.”

“No. Not until I see Arthur.” You brushed his shoulder as you walked by him and out of the room. You could hear him following behind you, but you ignored him. After you ripped Arthur’s door open, you paused in the doorway.

The entire room was decorated with Wilbur’s belongings. Instead of random bags of redstone dust and small contraptions that Arthur was too proud of to throw away, piles of sheet music and the occasional book was strewn about. Instead of the poster of you Arthur had hung up on the wall (you had laughed at it at first, he still geeked out over you even though you were his parent), a picture of the family was there. Despite it being a sweet picture (it was one of the very few ones of the family where everybody was smiling at the artist and not moving around), it shook you to your core. “A-Arthur?” You whispered in a broken voice. What was going on, where was he?

You faintly felt someone put a hand on your shoulder. You however stood frozen clutching the door handle in your hand until you walked over to the nightstand. It was completely barren except for the glasses case sitting near the lamp. This isn’t right, this isn’t right at all. Arthur’s things should be there, not Wilbur’s.

“No, no, no, no this isn’t right.” You broke off into mumbling while staring at Arthur’s (or Wilbur’s?) nightstand desperately trying to find the feather hidden somewhere. Once again, you felt a hand on your upper arm. “Everything’s right, (y/n).” You said nothing as you stared at the glasses case on the nightstand. “C’mon, let’s go sit down.” You barely registered him leading you gently back to your room and handing you a glass of water. “(Y/n)?”

“Why is his stuff just- just gone? Everything was there before I left.”

Philza was silent for a moment, his feathers ruffling and brushing against your arm. “...Sometimes when a person’s been through something traumatic and they’re about to die, they sort of… make up their own reality without knowing that they’re doing it. It’s the brain’s way of coping.

“This reality could last anywhere from a few days to years for them with the events seeming real, but in actuality only a few minutes have passed and nothing that the person thinks happened actually happened. It’s just the person’s subconscious mind playing out scenarios that they think would happen or wished had happened.”

You felt like you were previously walking on a stable sheet of ice before you were plunged into the icy abyss of unknowing. You felt several emotions coursing through your veins ranging from anxiety and frustration to grief and disbelief. The cup of water in your hands became incredibly blurry before you were pulled into his chest. He wrapped his arms and wings around you tightly and held your face securely against his shoulder. He started rocking you back and forth as you felt the tears silently leave your eyes and your breathing shudder. You felt yourself start to sob when a barrage of thoughts came and the reality of the situation hit you.

None of your inventions actually existed.

L’manberg doesn’t exist.

Your name was unknown.

The last two and a half years were pointless.

Arthur doesn’t exist.

Your precious Artie, the little boy that idolized you, begged for you to teach him everything you knew, followed you around like a little duckling, held your feather against his chest as he slept, enthusiastically asked you if you could take him flying, your little fledgling, your pride and joy, your son, didn’t fucking exist. You were never going to see his smile again. You were never going to laugh with him as you took him into the clouds. You were never going to cook breakfast with him again. He was never going to give you magnets again. He was never going to ask you to teach him something or ask you to help him with his own inventions. He was gone and there was nothing you could do to get him back.

“I- I prom-mised him that I’d never leave him.” You sobbed into his shoulder, clutching onto his shirt. “I fucking promised him and I’m never gonna see him again.”

(A/N): ok so a little explanation, chapters 4-mid 15 didn’t actually happen. It was in the reader’s mind as after they passed out in chapter 3. There was foreshadowing (esp in chapter 4, I consider chapter 4 to be the chapter where the brain is getting used to the illusion it set up (hence the title “what is real”)). It explains why the reader couldn’t remember their own death. The line “You were probably still in the cave bleeding out as your delirious mind turned stone into the comforting walls of your home. You were probably imagining hearing your dad’s voice in a last chance to comfort yourself as you neared your impending doom” was pretty self explanatory. In the last chapter, the souls saying “wake up, we need to get you out of here” and “don’t leave me” were Philza’s voice cutting through (”The voices ranged from... familiar to unfamiliar”)

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cleanlenins · 3 years

Text

He Drives Me Crazy

AO3 FFN

Written for the Minibang

Artwork done by @tumbling-darkling

Mother's Day is today and Danny forgot to buy a present! How did this become Jazz's problem? Danny convinces Jazz to help him pick out a last minute Mother's day gift. He also somehow convinced her to teach him how to drive. Sibling hijinks ensue and Jazz is going to need some advil to get through all of her brother's terrible jokes.

The bird had been singing just outside her window for ten minutes now, but Jazz was well practiced in ignoring Mama Bird's pre-dawn routine. She snuggled further under the blankets, not quite waking as dawn began to break. The soft fingers of early morning light began to brush against her eyelids. She had found that arranging her bed in a way that allowed for natural daylight to wake her was beneficial for her mental health and refreshed her enough to face a new day with an upbeat attitude. Danny said it was proof that she was, in fact, a robot running on solar power. Honestly, he could laugh, but he would benefit from taking a little time to plot out his sleep cycle.

Something suddenly blocked the dawn light, casting a faint shadow that covered her face. She frowned, not quite waking, but some part of her brain was aware of the change.

"Jazz," a cold whisper tickled her ear. She furrowed her brow further, hiding her face from the suddenly cold air. She mumbled incomprehensible nonsense.

"Jazz, I need your help," the voice whispered again, this time breaking from desperation. A finger prodded her shoulder. Poke. Poke. Poke. "Jazz, it's an emergency ."

Jazz bolted upright, startling her little brother enough for him to fall on his butt with an oof . Jazz frantically scanned her brother, her hair a halo of ginger tangles framing her face.

"What's wrong? Are you hurt? Is someone attacking? Did Mom or Dad make something new and horrifying? Are you okay?" She nearly shouted. Her words ran together as she raced to get them out as quickly as possible. Danny flinched from the sudden tirade of information. Jazz searched her brother’s body for any obvious wounds, her eyes as wide as dinner plates. But no, he looked perfectly whole. He was still wearing his pajamas.

“Not that kind of emergency,” Danny said with a pitiful pleading look. “I forgot to get Mom a present!”

It took Jazz a second before she could comprehend Danny’s words. She responded by mercilessly hitting him with her pillow.

“You wake me up for a supposed emergency , and that emergency is you didn’t buy Mom a Mother’s Day present? I don't think you know what emergency means,” She said, not letting up on her pillow assault. Danny tried to protect himself from the feathery flail.

“Jazz, please. This is an emergency! Mother’s Day is today!” Danny pleaded. But Jazz did not let up.

“I know that Mother’s Day is today, you dork. I know how to read a calendar,” She huffed. Jazz dropped the pillow back in place on her bed, slightly out of breath. Danny peeked through his fingers to see if it was truly over. Jazz glared down at her little brother before wrapping herself back in her blanket. “Just fly out and buy her something. Stores will be open in an hour or so.”

“I don’t know what to get her,” Danny pouted. He stood and flopped on top of Jazz, who objected to the movement. “I don’t know what she would like. Jazz, you’ve gotta help me.”

“Why didn’t you do this before now?”

“I meant to do it last weekend, but then there was that weird Simon-Says ghost that made it so you could only do something if you said his name. And the weekend before that I had to study for that big test, remember? And the project Lancer had assigned. And then there was that whole thing with Johnny 13 that ended up with the Mall closing early, so unless I broke in I couldn’t have bought a present anyways.. And then the weekend before that-”

“Okay, okay. I get it. You’ve had a lot on your plate,” Jazz said. She shoved her brother into the floor and unwound herself from the blankets. Danny didn’t bother to move from the contorted position he fell in, but just continued to look up at Jazz with his puppy dog eyes. She sighed. How could she not give in when he looked at her like that? “Did you have any ideas about what you wanted to get her?”

“Well, I had thought I could bake something for her? I also thought to go by that weird academic place and see if they had something she would like,” Danny mused.

“It's just a bookstore, Danny.”

“Weird Academic Place.”

“Whatever. Fine. Call it whatever you want. It sounds like you have it planned out. So what do you need me for?” Jazz rubbed her eyes. Ugh, couldn’t he have waited five more minutes?

“You know her better than I do. You’re actually here most of the time. Not, you know, avoiding...her.” Danny shifted guiltily. He murmured something unintelligible. Jazz ignored it. “I just want to make sure she likes it, you know?”

“I’m sure she will like whatever you pick out.”

“Yeah, but I want her to actually like it, not just ‘Mom-like’ it, you know? I want it to be something she will enjoy because she wants it, not because I gave it to her.”

Jazz sighed.

“Fine, just let me get dressed and then you can fly us over to the mall when it opens.”

Danny shifted on the floor, still looking up at Jazz with his puppy dog eyes. Honestly, those should be criminal.

“Do you think that, maybe, just this once, I can drive your car?” Danny said, increasing the puppy pressure.

“What? No! Why would you want to drive my car anyways? You can fly,” Jazz said. Was Danny’s lower lip trembling?

“I know. I just- I got my learner’s permit now! And I just really want to try. I promise I will be really careful. Just please please please PLEASE. Don’t make me learn using the GAV,” Danny begged. “Do you want Dad teaching me to drive?”

Jazz shuddered at the thought. Imagining a teenage Danny driving like Jack Fenton. Except with no fear of death.

“Well…”

~~~

Jazz was trying very hard to not laugh as Danny was practically bouncing in his seat. The driver’s seat. Of her car. That was a sobering thought. She couldn’t believe that she was actually going to do this. Danny grinned as he fiddled with the seat settings, the seat jittering back and forth with an electric hum.

“Will you quit that?” Jazz snapped.

“What, I need to make sure my toesies reach, don’t I?” Danny grinned, stretching his legs comically.

“So why the heck is the seat all the way back?”

“Well, maybe my toesies need some toe room,” Danny argued, adjusting the seat's backrest all the way forward so his face almost touched his own lap.

“I’m regretting this already,” Jazz muttered, still gripping the keys.

“What? No, wait! I can behave,” Danny said, rushing to return the seat settings back to a normal setup. Not that there was any way to rush the old mechanical chair. The seat slowly moved back, the squeaking of the leather seats the only sound as Danny stared at Jazz, who was really starting to regret this. Neither teen broke eye contact as the chair moved with agonizing slowness. When the seat was finally upright, he grinned at her. “See?”

“Congratulations, you're sitting in the car like a normal person,” Jazz deadpanned. She took a steadying breath. “Okay, so what is the first thing you do now that you’ve figured out how to get your butt in a chair?”

“Uh, plug in the key?”

“Plug in?”

“I don’t know the word! You stick the key in the hole and twist.”

“I thought you got your learner's permit?” Jazz said suspiciously.

“I did, but it's early and I don’t remember words this early. I stick the key in the hole- the ignition! And turn. Right?”

“Wrong,” Jazz said, looking pointedly at her little brother. “First thing: Put on your seatbelt.”

“Why? It’s not like I can die again,” Danny laughed.

“Do you want me to teach you to drive or not?” Jazz snapped.

“I do! I do. Fine, I’ll put on the seatbelt,” Danny pouted. He clicked it into place, then made grabby hands toward his sister. “Keys, please.”

“No, you still haven’t checked your mirrors,” Jazz said.

“They're still attached to the car, I would notice if they weren’t,” Danny furrowed his brow.

“Not if they are still attached, you dork. That you can see with them,” Jazz groaned. Danny blushed.

“Sorry, cars missing mirrors tends to be a more common problem for me,” He said. He sat up and looked at all the mirrors, not having to make very many adjustments. “I think that's good. Now can I please start the car.”

Jazz hesitated, before finally dropping the keys into Danny’s waiting hands. The raven-haired teen looked gleeful at the little clump of jangling metal. He instantly put the car key in the ignition, the engine humming to life.

“Okay, so now you are going to put your foot on the brake. That’s the one on your left. And then you are going to shift the gearshift-”

“PRNDL,” Danny said, already shifting into Reverse.

“You've never even watched that show, it's on the wrong network,” Jazz complained.

“Doesn’t matter. So, do I put on the gas-?”

“No,” Jazz tried not to shout. She took another deep breath. “No, just. Get a feel for how fast it goes before you hit the gas, okay? Cars will go a little bit even without having to press the gas.”

“Sounds like me in English class,” Danny smirked, easing off the brake. The car inched toward the road.

“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that,” Jazz said. She turned backwards to double check that no one was coming down their street. It probably wasn’t necessary. Most people avoided the street that the crazy Fentons lived on. With her Dad's driving? That was probably a good idea. “You should be good. Just turn the wheel to straighten yourself into the lane.”

Danny nodded and did just that. He seemed relieved, as he switched the car into Drive.

“Okay, cool. So now I floor it, right?” Danny said.

“I can’t tell if you are serious or not, but if you want to continue driving my car you will do no such thing,” Jazz's voice wavered. She squeezed the door handle, starting to feel it slide with sweat. “Just gently tap it. Speed limit is 35, so don’t go over that.”

Danny did a...really good job. Jazz relaxed. His turns were a little hair-raising, but nowhere near Jack Fenton levels. And Jazz only had to ask him to slow down twice. He braked a little hard at the lights. It could be worse.

“You’re doing great, Danny,” Jazz said fondly. Danny’s face, which had slowly contorted into a stern look of concentration as he drove, brightened. He shot his sister a look before she gently slapped him on the shoulder. “Eyes on the road!”

“Am I wheely doing a good job?” Danny snickered, tapping his fingers against the wheel. They were approaching an intersection.

“No puns.”

“Even if I am being carful ?”

“Stop it.”

“But I have miles of them. Can’t stop me now that I am on a roll .”

“Stop.”

“You can’t be tired of them yet-”.

“No, STOP!” Jazz cried. Danny slammed on the brake just as the light turned red, sliding slightly further into the intersection. The squeal of the tires against the pavement attracted the attention of the few pedestrians. Luckily, there were no other cars at the traffic light. It was early Sunday morning. Jazz held her hand to her chest for a second before her head jerked to Danny.

“Danny, are you okay,” Jazz asked. Danny gave her a wry grin.

“Yeah, I’m fine. The seatbelt doesn’t hit near as hard as Skulker,” Danny massaged his collarbone. “Sorry.”

Jazz took a deep breath. Danny was avoiding her gaze, his cheeks flushed the same color as the traffic light. He gripped both hands on the steering wheel, elbows rigid.

“Danny, you're okay. It’s fine. Everyone makes mistakes while learning,” Jazz said softly. Danny shook his head, still keeping his eyes forward. “You’re doing a really good job, I promise. Just don’t let yourself get distracted, okay?”

Danny still didn’t look at Jazz, but Jazz didn’t need eye contact to see where his mind was going. He was fast getting over his embarrassment, but it was turning into something she saw far too often on her little brother’s face.

“Danny, you have nothing to feel guilty about. I promise you are doing a good job. This is your first time driving a car, right?”

“Legally, yeah.”

“Legally-?” Jazz cut that thought short. “Nevermind. This is your first real lesson. You’re doing a good job. I promise. When this light turns green, just continue on a little more cautiously. And maybe don’t make anymore driving puns until you get a bit more comfortable. Or ever. That would certainly make me feel more comfortable.”

Danny’s lip twitched, but Jazz wasn’t satisfied.

“I want you to repeat after me,” Jazz said. Danny groaned. “Just do it. Stop complaining. Now, say ‘I am doing my best.’”

“I am doing my best,” Danny recited. The light turned green and Danny slowly pulled through the intersection.

“And my best is enough,” Jazz continued.

“And my best is enough,” Danny said unenthusiastically.

“Good, now say it all together,” Jazz said.

“Good, now say it all together,” Danny repeated.

“Danny, I’m serious,” Jazz admonished.

“And here I thought you were Jazz,” Danny quipped, his tone light. Jazz didn’t believe it. She knew when Danny was trying to pretend he was okay. She knew when he was trying to deflect. Jazz said nothing and continued to look at her little brother. Minutes passed in silence until they stopped at another intersection. Danny sighed deeply, weary.

“I’m doing my best and my best is enough,” Danny mumbled.

“I’m sorry, I don’t think I heard you,” Jazz said.

“I’m doing my best and my best is enough,” Danny said in a normal tone of voice.

“Yes, and I am very proud of you, little brother,” Jazz said fondly. “Really, I am. You do so much. And you work so hard. And you do so much good. I don’t know how I could be any prouder.”

“I thought we were talking about my driving? Why are you getting all mushy?” Danny complained half-heartedly, finally smiling. Genuinely smiling.

“Because I love you. Turn left at this next intersection. It’s faster,” Jazz directed. Danny grumbled something about sisters, but Jazz didn’t let it bother her.

It hadn’t taken long after she found out about Phantom for her to realize her brother always seemed beaten down. And not just literally. But while the scars from the ghost fights healed ridiculously quickly, the mental and emotional scars Danny had been accumulating since The Accident were just getting worse. The constant detentions from teachers who could never understand what he was going through. The bullies that tore at her little brother’s self-esteem. And then their parents. Jazz knew they meant well. She knew they scolded Danny because they thought it would help. She knew they grounded him because they were worried. But the constant negativity was not good for him. When was the last time they had said something positive to him? Something that didn’t bring up their bigotry against ghosts? Something that made him feel safe? Something that made him feel truly loved? No wonder he was stressed about Mom’s gift.

It didn’t help that it seemed like they were always complimenting her. Yes, she did work hard on all her tests. She worked hard for her grades. She had worked hard for her CATs. She had worked hard on her college entrance essays. And she liked the praise. But couldn’t her parents see the damage they were doing by constantly praising one child but not giving the other child the attention they needed? If only they could see all the good Danny did. Because Danny was an amazingly good person who-

“Jazz, this is your short cut. I don’t know where I’m going. So could you stop spacing and tell me when to turn,” Danny cut in, breaking Jazz out of her thoughts.

“Whoops, sorry,” She apologized, taking stock of where they were driving. A store caught her eye. “Oh, they finally opened that new ice cream shop!”

“Really?” Danny said. He glanced around nervously, not wanting to let his eye leave the road.

“Yeah, it opened a few days ago,” Jazz squinted to read the sign, a bright fluorescent green. She groaned.

“What?” Danny asked nervously.

“They called it ‘Scream’. That’s awful . I hate that,” Jazz lamented. And sure enough, as they drove by, the little ice cream shop was taking full advantage of Amity Park’s ghostly reputation. Cute cartoonish green ghosts decorated the windows. A few were curled up on top of ice cream cones, smiling out at the potential customers. Danny snickered.

“Well, I love that. We have to go!” Danny said.

“It’s too early for ice cream.”

“So we get it on the way home.”

“I thought you were going to bake something for Mom?”

“I mean, yeah. But that takes time. And it’s ice cream,” Danny said with longing. “I’m a itty bitty cold core ghosty. I crave the sugary icy treat. It's in my DNA.”

“Danny, you don’t need ice cream.”

“But I do . Ask Frostbite. Complete medical necessity. Don’t be ghostphobic, Jazz,” Danny complained as they passed by the shop. “I need it so bad I could scream .”

“Ugh, turn left for the mall” Jazz groaned, causing Danny to cackle in delight.

“That didn’t sound like a no,” Danny nearly sang.

“You’re paying. If I have to go into a store decorated with ghosts, you’re paying,” Jazz demanded.

“Deal!” Danny crowed in victory. Jazz rolled her eyes. She continued to give directions as Danny drove, interspersed with compliments and tips. By the time they arrived at the mall, Danny was back in high spirits. Was that a pun? Ugh, Danny’s sense of humor better not be rubbing off on her.

Jazz took back the keys when they got out of the car. Danny had turned on the puppy look again to try and keep them, but Jazz put her foot down. Jazz was far less likely to lose the keys than he was. He finally agreed as they headed toward the mall.

The siblings walked through the parking lot, with Danny trailing slightly behind Jazz. It hadn’t been open long, but there were already more people than Jazz had anticipated. Probably other last minute Mother’s Day shoppers. She smiled, knowing the probability that at least one of them was delayed because of ghost reasons as well. Just not her brother’s specific issue. She reached the door and opened it for her brother, turning to comment on that thought, when she paused.

Danny walked past her, not noticing her stalled comment. His eyes scanned the inside of the mall as he took on a tense defensive posture. The baby blue of his eyes didn’t match the sky, as Mom had always said. Not right now. They were cold and hard like ice. The calculated stare of a predator. Walking with purpose, he continued inward, not letting his guard down until some unspoken criteria was met. Jazz wasn’t sure what he saw that made him relax. What did he see that let him know that there was no immediate threat? And wasn’t that just awful that walking into the mall would make her baby brother feel threatened? Jazz watched the tension melt from her little brother’s shoulders as he turned backwards to grin at her. Jazz did her best to grin back at him.

Her brother rushed forward and grabbed Jazz by her wrist. Danny dragged Jazz through the store quickly, not noticing his sister’s lapse in concentration. He weaved in between the shoppers, apologizing quickly when he accidentally bumped into one of them. Jazz worried that he might dislocate her arm. But the pain of that possibility didn’t compare to the emotional roller coaster in her head. It wasn’t the first time she had thought about this. It was wrong. He was just barely fifteen! It shouldn’t be his responsibility. They were just kids. They should just be able to go to the mall and just be kids. Instead, Danny was always on edge. Always ready to throw himself in danger. And Jazz understood because she recognized the Mall as being statistically a likely place for ghost attacks.

Jazz almost tripped over Danny when he suddenly stopped outside the bookstore. He spread his arms wide, gesturing to the facade.

“Here we are! The Weird Academic Place. The WAP,” Danny said, a huge grin across his face. Jazz punched him.

“You are not going to call it that in public. Not if you want my help,” Jazz admonished.

“What do you mean?” Danny asked in feigned innocence. “What is so wrong with WAP?”

“Danny, you know exactly what is wrong with that acronym?” Jazz said.

“No, honest big sister. I am just your tiny baby brother. I don’t know what any word means. Tell me. Does it have a dirty meaning? Why would my perfect sister know something that has a dirty meaning?” Danny tried very hard not to laugh. To keep up the charade. Jazz felt her lip twitch before she couldn’t hold back the giggles any longer. Okay, maybe they still were able to be children. They weren’t actually completely deprived of it.

“Danny, you're ridiculous. Now, did you want to get a present or not?” Jazz asked. Danny winked.

“Yes, a Wonderfully Awesome Present,” Danny said.

“No,” Jazz said, marching forward into the store without him. She smiled when she heard his chuckling get closer, her baby brother following her in.

Looking around, Jazz could see why her brother might label this bookstore Weirdly Academic. Even ignoring his stupid joke. The bookstore was geared toward academic and science books. It was, honestly, a little pretentious. What was wrong with a little light fantasy reading? Nothing. Though, she grudgingly admitted that it was the best store to get peer-reviewed science journals in print.

“Okay, so what kind of book were you thinking?” Jazz asked. Danny shrugged.

“I’m not sure. I don’t think she would want an ectobiology book. I mean, Mom and Dad wrote the most accurate ones. But she is super into science and I am not sure which sciences would be relevant?” Danny frowned in thought.

“Well, why don’t we go look at the ectobiology section and see if anything stands out. Who knows? Maybe we can find something they haven’t read yet. After that, I know Mom was talking about looking into different ways of measuring and predicting atmospheric changes so they can finally go into the Ghost Zone safely. Like a barometer, but for ectoplasm. We might find something about that in the meteorology section. Or the general earth science section. Or possibly even engineering?”

“Sounds like a plan. Let’s go!” Danny said, rushing down an aisle. Jazz waited a few moments before Danny’s head popped back around the shelf. “I’m going the wrong way, aren’t I?”

“Why don’t I lead the way this time?” She said, grinning. She grabbed his hand and steered him in the right direction. He moaned about holding his sister’s hand in public, but both of them could tell his heart wasn’t in it. Just a little brother reflex.

It didn’t take long for her to find the section on meteorology. Granted, she wasn’t super well versed in any of the Earth Sciences. But she had picked up a book here after the Vortex incident. The section wasn’t large. A big portion of it was taken up by a life-sized portrait of Lance Thunder, the local “weatherman” as he used to be known. Now he mostly just got called out to Ghost Fights. He didn’t seem very happy about it.

Danny looked over the books briefly, picking up a very fancy book that seemed promising. It’s title did seem to insinuate that at least one of the articles had something to do with atmospheric changes. But…

“What is it?” Danny said, looking up at Jazz.

“I didn’t say anything,” Jazz replied, a little too quickly.

“You didn’t have to. You don’t think this is a good choice,” Danny sighed, putting the book back into place.

“Well, no. I guess not. I think it might be a bit too broad for what they are looking for. But then again, what they are looking for is very specific. Maybe we should look at the engineering section first. Mom and Dad usually make their own stuff. But maybe there is something in there similar to what they want and they can base their designs on that?” Jazz said hopefully. Danny slumped.

“Fine, lead the way,” Danny said, slightly disappointed. Jazz squeezed his shoulder in sympathy, before they walked over to the engineering section. They passed by the small kids section on the way there.

As with everything else in the store, the kid’s section was education oriented, with science being the predominant field. There weren’t any kids here, probably because of the time. Jazz paused as something caught her eye. There on a display was the book version of Bearburt, Bearburt Knows It All. Jazz looked at the book wistfully.

Back when she was a kid, she was enamoured with that book. She had seen it at the old bookstore when she was five or six years old. She had skimmed it with her tiny fingers, seeing how the book encouraged her to be smart and to study. And to never stop questioning. She read it three times just while they stood in the store. Jazz had begged her Mom to buy it at the time, but she hadn’t gotten it. Mom had been distracted and instead of buying her the book, she had thought Jazz had wanted the stuffed animal that went with it. And Jazz didn’t correct her. Her teachers at school said she wasn’t supposed to correct adults, even when she was right. And so she had taken Bearburt home.

And she loved Bearburt. He had always been there for her. Through the kids that teased her in elementary school. To the crippling self-doubt she hid in middle school. She had thought she had grown out of him when she hit high school, when everything seemed to be working out according to plan. Even though Bearburt had helped her out through all of those hard times, it was the book that had given her the courage to be herself, even when others didn’t approve. To finally speak up for herself when she saw something wrong. And maybe she got a lot of grief over the years for being a know-it-all, but she was happy with who she was.

“Um, Jazz? You okay? I’m supposed to be the space case, not you. Remember?” Danny asked, shaking her gently. Jazz blinked rapidly. “That’s like twice. I didn’t think waking you up early would turn you into a Zombie.”

“I’m not a Zombie. I’m fine. I just remembered something.”

Danny hummed in response, a single eyebrow raised.

“So, the engineering section. This way,” Jazz directed. Danny watched her closely a moment longer, before shrugging off the distraction.

The engineering section was much larger than the section geared towards earth science. Jazz couldn’t be sure, but she imagined it was probably because of the constant destruction in Amity Park. Interest in engineering would likely soar when people wanted to find a way to create city infrastructure that could withstand the force of a giant glowing dragon being suplexed into the road. Or at least that seemed logical.

“That’s a lot of books,” Danny eyed the aisle warily.

“Yeah,” Jazz agreed, scanning the titles. She gestured to one section. “I think those are mostly geared towards Architectural Engineering, so we don’t need to look through those.”

“That still leaves a lot to look through,” Danny sighed. “Oh well, better start.”

The siblings began grabbing books and looking through them. Most of them were collections of articles instead of just being books on one subject, so they couldn’t just read the dust jacket to get a sense of what was inside. Many of the concepts were foreign to Jazz, but she was able to parse out the jargon well enough to get a sense of what was not what they were looking for. The problem was that they didn’t know enough to say if any of the few options they considered would actually be helpful.

“ Status and characteristics of diagnostics on Korea Superconducting Tokamak Research seems like a good option. It details what would work and what wouldn’t work with their design, so that might be a good place for Mom and Dad to start,” Jazz mused, looking at the journal entry.

“Yeah, but wasn’t it published in like 1996. Isn’t that kind of old?” Danny asked.

“Yeah, it’s not ideal . But they mostly just need a starting place. You know that they don’t stick to a blueprint from start to finish very well.”

“But what about this one? Pressure and interaction measure of the gluon plasma came out in 2010, wouldn’t that be better?” Dany said.

“Do you know what gluon plasma is?” Jazz asked.

“No,” Danny admitted.

“Me either,” Jazz sighed. “Who knows if it is similar to ectoplasm or not.”

“Maybe I should just get both?” Danny ventured, before wincing at the price. “Or not.”

“Yeah, academic titles are pricey.” Jazz said apologetically. Danny just hummed in agreement.

“I think I will go with the first one. The one about Korea Superconducting. If it’s the wrong thing, I think she would still enjoy that one more? She said something about superconducting at some point, ” Danny sounded unsure. Jazz hugged her little brother.

“Why touchy?” Danny complained. Jazz just squeezed him tighter.

“Big sister,” Jazz explained.

“Ngh,” Danny wriggled out of her hands. “I'm going to go buy this. You can go look up a book on personal space.”

“Rude,” Jazz called after her brother as he sprinted off towards the checkout. Or she thinks that’s where he was heading. He was going the completely wrong direction. Jazz chuckled. The red-head then put back the small pile of books she and Danny had pulled out, before heading over toward the psychology section. Maybe she could find a book on personal space just to irritate Danny. Actually, that was a good idea. Read a chapter of it here or there out loud until Danny stopped pestering her. Turn his own joke against him.

She noticed the ectobiology section as she made her way through the store. The section was probably bigger in Amity than it was in any other city. Most of the covers sported a massive orange ‘F’ on the front. There was probably twenty years worth of research, countless hours spent by her parents locked in the basement. Researching and inventing and writing papers, day after day. Even now, it wasn’t uncommon for Jazz and Danny to not even see their parents for a few days, their schedules causing the family to be like ships in the night. She wondered if they would ever get tired of that. Did they miss Jazz and Danny? Because Jazz found herself more and more missing them.

Maybe she should pick up a new book on childhood development instead. She passed the ectobiology section and found her way into the psychology section. They had actually restocked since she was last here! She soon found herself lost in a psychology journal article about sibling rivalry and didn’t notice the minutes ticking away from her.

“There you are! Dang it, why is this WAP so complicated to navigate?” Danny said, startling Jazz out of her focus.

“How long is it going to take you to get bored with that joke?” Jazz said, slamming the book closed and replacing it on the shelf.

“Depends. I still say the 'Road Work Ahead' line every time I see one of those signs,” Danny shrugged. He was grinning, and he swung the plastic shopping bag around lazily.

“I know. And there is one on every block,” Jazz bemoaned. She grabbed her brother by the shoulders and marched him toward the exit. “Why do you think I gave you directions the way I did this morning? So much construction.”

“You were trying to deprive me of Road Work signs?” Danny gasped, trying to turn around to stare at his sister. She kept pushing and ignored the false hurt in his voice.

“I was trying to keep you from having to maneuver through a construction zone your first time driving,” Jazz retorted. She was lying, so sue her. He literally said it every. Single. Sign. There are twelve on 4th street alone. “Sometimes I think you let yourself get thrown onto the road just so they put up more of those signs.”

Danny went strangely quiet but Jazz had grown adept at reading the silence.

“You don’t try to destroy the road so they put up more of those signs, right?” Jazz asked.

“I mean, I didn’t before. But you have such good ideas, Jazz.”

“No. Uh-uh. If I get any indication that you are letting yourself get curb stomped for a meme , I will lock you in the thermos for a week and just suck ectodogs in there for you to eat. That has to be the stupidest form of self-harm I have ever heard of,” Jazz chided as she pushed Danny out of the Weird Aca- dang it. Now she was doing it. They now stood in the mall proper. It had grown much busier in the time they had been inside the store.

“Was there anything else you needed here?” Jazz asked, Danny shook his head. “Then let's drive over to the grocery store and you can find something to bake for Mom.”

Danny lit up and held out his hand. Jazz fixed him with a stare.

“I will only let you have the keys if you promise me you will not intentionally get yourself thrown into a road,” Jazz said.

“Jazz,” Danny whined. “Sometimes I have to get thrown into the road. It’s better than getting thrown into the nursing home or doggy daycare or something. Sometimes the road is the best option.”

“Okay,” Jazz said, noting to process that later. “No intentionally getting thrown into the road for a dumb joke.”

A passing couple gave her an odd look, which she ignored. Danny put his hand over his heart, left hand in the air.

“I, Daniel James Fenton, swear not to let myself be thrown into the road for a dumb joke,” Danny said seriously. “Now gimme.”

Jazz sighed, and gave her brother the jangling mass of metal. He tossed it up in the air and caught it once more, a smirk at his sister.

“But you said nothing about a great joke!” Danny smirked, before sprinting through the mall. Jazz took a second to react before she chased down her brother.

“Danny Fenton, get back here with my keys!” She yelled.

~~~

Danny Fenton did not, in fact, get back there with her keys. When she made it to her car, her brother was already inside on the driver’s side. He was buckled with both hands on the wheel and beamed at her when she came into sight. Jazz glared at him and his smile dimmed. She marched over to the passenger side and slammed the door as she got in.

“...You know I am not really going to throw myself into the road for a joke, right?” Danny asked hesitantly, sinking down into the seat. Jazz sighed.

“I hope so. But sometimes you say something as a joke and then you actually mean it. I just want to make sure you’re taking care of yourself. The things you do...they are completely out of my depth, little brother. They don’t sell any books on how to handle this. I know what you do is important, but can you please try not to stress me out so much?” Jazz begged.

“Sorry. I guess I took the joke a little too far,” Danny said, rubbing the back of his neck. “But I promise, Jazz. I’m not going to let myself get hurt for some dumb reason. Jokes aside, I really don’t want to find out if I can die all the way.”

Jazz leaned over to give her little brother an awkward hug. He leaned into her. The moment passed and Danny grinned at her like the chaos gremlin he was.

“So, grocery store?” Danny asked. Jazz just smiled and turned around to make sure he didn’t back into anyone. Her brother eased out of the parking space, the mall in the rearview mirror.

The grocery store wasn’t all that far away from the mall, so it was a pretty short drive. Honestly, Jazz had been considering just walking from the mall to the supermarket. But Danny seemed to be having so much fun driving that she didn’t bring it up. The closer they got to the store, Danny’s smile grew and grew. Jazz thought it was bordering on maniacal.

“What’s with that face?” Jazz asked, suspicious.

“What face?” Danny tried to straighten his grin into one of innocent confusion.

“You know what face. Why are you making that face?”

“I don’t know what you mean. This is just my face. My normal human face. No need to attack me about it,” Danny cackled.

“Okay, you’re making a pun. I hear that in your voice. But I have no clue what joke you are making,” Jazz said as she stared at her giggling brother.

“I’m just getting in the zone ,” Danny snarked. Jazz was about to grill him about his behavior when she saw it.

“Oh no, they didn’t,” She said, horror struck. Danny expertly parked the car so he didn’t crash from laughing.

“They did,” Danny gasped, tears dripping down his cheeks. His face was as bright as a tomato as he continued to laugh. Jazz gaped, torn between being insulted by the misuse of government resources and amused by the absurdity.

On the side of the road was a very new sign. And as Jazz looked around, she could see that they were scattered everywhere. How had she missed them? The sign was a bright yellow equilateral triangle with the vague silhouette of a blob ghost, eyes glaring menacingly. Underneath it said-

“Ghost Attack Zone? What?” Jazz was flabbergasted. Danny clutched his stomach.

“I know!” He choked out between giggles.

“What does that even mean? Ghosts attack everywhere!” Jazz threw her hands in the air while Danny just continued to laugh. Jazz tried to stay strong and be the serious one, as usual. But she couldn’t do it. She caved, snorting and laughing with Danny. The siblings leaned into each other and guffawed until their sides hurt. Whenever they tried to get ahold of themselves, they would make eye contact and suddenly they were both back to clutching their sides and gasping for breath.

“Oh Ancients, do you think you can use this against Walker?” Jazz mused when she was finally able to control her laughter. Danny looked awestruck and grinned.

“Sorry, Walker, this is not a Ghost Attack Zone. Attacking me is against the rules,” Danny mocked the absent ghost. “Oh, I have no clue if it will work but I am absolutely doing that. I can’t wait to see the look on his face.”

“I think you can wait. We don’t need him showing up right now. It’s almost noon,” Jazz chided. Danny smiled.

“Would you say it’s High Noon?” Danny drawled.

“That meme is as dead as you,” Jazz rolled her eyes as Danny once more lost himself in a peel of laughter. “Can you please get a hold of yourself and drive to the store? The parking lot is right there!”

Danny held his breath, trying to contain the laughter as he drifted back onto the street. He pulled into the parking lot and began to look for a spot. Jazz pointed one out to him.

“There is one! It doesn’t have anyone next to it so it is a good place for you to practice.”

“I’m not parking there!”

“Why not?”

“The parking lot seagulls are there, minding their own birdy business. Are you trying to get me to commit birdy genocide?" Danny asked aghast.

“They will move when you get close to them.”

“But then they might not like me anymore and take their poop-fueled revenge. I don’t have the gull to make them my enemy. We’re birds of a feather !”

“How does that even remotely make sense?”

“I mean, they're white, they fly, and most of Amity Park thinks they’re a menace when they mostly just want to eat cheese fries,” Danny listed off, slowly passing the seagull mob. “Oh, and they are from the Ghost Zone.”

“What do you mean they’re from the Ghost Zone?” Jazz said, rubbing her temple.

“How do you think a bunch of seagulls end up in a city in the middle of Minnesota? Random transient portals,” Danny nodded sagely.

“Are you making that up?”

“You’ll never know.”

Jazz did not like not knowing things, but Danny was stubborn. Even though Jazz pestered Danny well after the car was parked, Danny refused to budge on elaborating. He just smiled mischievously. Jazz stewed, but it was fine. Danny may be afraid of bird-related vengeance, but she was an older sister. And she knew how to wait. And he should be more worried about Jazz related vengeance.

The siblings entered the store, Danny quickly grabbing a shopping cart. Jazz held onto his shoulder so he wouldn’t zoom off without her. Even so, she was having to speed walk to keep up with him.

“So, what are you planning to bake for Mom?” Jazz asked.

“Um, that’s a good question,” Danny slowed his pace. He looked at her with big pleading eyes. Jazz sighed.

“Well, I know she likes key lime pie but-”

“Great! Key lime pie, it is!” Danny said, successfully zooming away from his sister toward the produce aisle. Jazz wanted to scream, but she walked at a sensible speed after her little brother.

Jazz didn’t like key lime pie all that much. She had plenty of evidence as to why it was the inferior dessert in the Fenton Household. For one, it was green. Or, green-tinted at least. It made it very difficult to tell if it had been contaminated in the refrigerator by her parents' ectoplasm samples. It was made doubly hard by the citrus sour taste, something that limes and ectoplasm shared. Though limes didn’t usually have that battery-acid aftertaste as well. Not unless they had been left in the Fenton Fridge too long. On top of it, Jazz just didn’t like sour things. But if she were to honestly examine her distaste, she may dislike sour things because she had eaten so many ectoplasm contaminated meals.

Danny was still in the produce aisle. Jazz frowned as she watched him grab different fruits and stick them in the cart. He hadn’t even grabbed any of the limes yet. But he was going along, grabbing item after item at seemingly random.

“What are you doing?” She asked once she caught up to him. He looked at her seriously, before slowly reaching into the cart and solemnly handing her a bright red apple. Jazz just stared at it, before looking at her brother suspiciously. He was leaning over the cart.

“I just wanted to apple-ogize for driving you bananas today,” He pulled out the yellow fruit and put it on top of the apple in her hand. Jazz looked at the fruit expressionlessly. “ You kiwi-ckly agreed to go shopping with me, even though apricot to buy Mom’s gift. I cherry-sh our currant relationship, and think your grape for en-durian my jokes. And I will try to not take you for pomegranate again because we make a great pear. ”

As he spoke, he piled each named fruit into Jazz’s hands, who just stood there looking at the growing mass of food she held. When he had finished talking, she had a small fruity hill precariously balanced in her arms. She looked at her brother.

“Are you done?” She asked. He looked at her sheepishly, before sitting a single avocado on top of the pile.

“I couldn’t think of a pun for it in time,” Danny admitted. Jazz just stared at him. And took a deep, steadying breath.

“Why?” She asked. Danny shrugged.

“Fruit was there,” Danny said, as if it explained everything. Which it didn’t. But Jazz was going to at least pretend to be the bigger person.

“Please just put them back,” Jazz begged. Danny grinned as he pulled each fruit out of Jazz’s hand. “Where did you even find a durian?”

“Sam.”

“...were you just carrying that in your pocket?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Jazz,” Danny scoffed. “It was in my backpack.”

“Right. And you are carrying a durian around with you because-?” Jazz prompted, handing over the last of the fruit to Danny.

“They are smelly,” He said, brows furrowed.

“Danny. Please. Explain it to me. Use your words,” Jazz begged.

“It makes it easier for Cujo to find me. Strong smell. And also he really likes playing fetch with them,” Danny shrugged. “Hey, can you go grab the stuff for a pie crust while I put all of this fruit back? We are in a hurry, you know.”

Jazz really wanted to explore how he had found out that the Ghost Puppy enjoyed durian, especially since she wasn’t sure if living dogs could even eat the fruit safely. Was he just chucking random fruit for the dog to chase? There was a story here. Not to mention it wasn't something usually found in the local stores but-

“What kind of pie crust?”

“Um, I guess a graham cracker crust? I don’t know how to make other kinds,” Danny said, still holding his fruit pile. “I think the graham crackers are in aisle eight.”

Jazz turned to walk away, keeping one eye on her brother and making sure he put the assorted fruit back in their place. He seemed to be doing just that, after sliding the durian back into his backpack. She walked past the baked goods. Danny was getting good at baking, somehow, but she would still prefer any of these store bought goods to key lime pie. She tried not to eye the cute little tiramisu that was placed right at the front, wrapped in a hard plastic box. She really liked the little cake, but never found the time to make it. Wait, she was getting distracted. Jazz blinked away the thought and walked briskly to aisle eight. Danny was right. This did have the graham crackers.

It took some time for Jazz to find Danny again. She had taken a detour to make sure he had actually put all of the fruit back in their correct place before catching up with him by the eggs.

"Don't we have eggs at home?" Jazz asked. Danny shrugged.

"I think so. But they have probably been in the fridge for a week so-"

"Ah. Yeah, better not chance it," Jazz nodded.

"Yeah. I guess I could still take a crack at it, though," Danny snickered.

"Oh my god, Danny-"

"You gotta learn to take a yolk , Jazz," Danny drawled out her name. "Don't be so hard-boiled ."

"I'm getting rid of you. I am going to Vlad's house and giving him your birth certificate," Jazz deadpanned. Danny gasped dramatically. "Danielle can just come and live with us. Upgrade."

"You wound me! Also, Ellie's puns are worse than mine, so not much of an upgrade there," Danny shrugged, grabbing a dozen eggs and putting them in the cart. "All that's left is the sweetened condensed milk. What even is sweetened condensed milk?"

"It's just milk that has been heated to remove some of the water from it, with sugar added," Jazz grabbed the cart from her brother and started pushing it toward the baking aisle. It forced Danny to walk at a normal pace. "You know you could have asked me to grab it while I was getting the graham crackers, right? They are in the same aisle."

"Of course I knew that," Danny said, his tone saying he very much did not know that. Jazz chose to drop it. They grabbed the can of sweetened condensed milk, Jazz physically holding her hand over Danny's mouth to prevent another infernal pun. Danny licked her hand, so she did the mature thing and rubbed his spit on his face. When an adult turned down the aisle, Jazz straightened up. She angled the cart toward the registers, but Danny stopped her.

"Let's do the self checkout," he complained, tugging on her arm. She shook him off.

"Do you see how many items we have in this cart? That would be so annoying! The cashier-run register is better."

"Noooo,"Danny whined. He leaned all of his weight on Jazz, causing her to stumble. "Self checkout, Jazz!"

"Seriously? You're going to knock me over," Jazz complained, trying to push her brother off of her.

"Sounds like a personal problem," Danny said, continuing to hang off of Jazz. Jazz was severely tempted to just let him fall on the floor, but that was probably not the correct response to have.

"If you want to do the self-checkout so badly, I am not going to help you. You can do it yourself," Jazz huffed

"Okay," Danny chirped, standing upright immediately. "Why don't you wait in the car while I check out?”

Jazz was going to argue against it, when inspiration struck. A little bit of pay back for her baby brother. She smiled sweetly at him and gave him a kiss on the head. He sputtered and gagged at the show of affection as she turned on heel to head for the car.

It didn’t take her long to set up her revenge. She had kept it on the backburner for a while, a small plan to be enacted when the time was right. Preparation was key. So she waited primly in the passenger seat of her car, giving occasional glances to the storefront. She saw her brother heading toward the car, half a dozen bags hanging from his arms (with one tiny one clutched in between his teeth). She unlocked the trunk as soon as he got close, letting him put the groceries in before slamming it shut with a thud. Danny slid into the driver’s side, grinning from ear to ear. Jazz did her best to hide her excitement as he buckled his seat belt.

“Why are you making that face?” He asked, suspicious.

“Face? What face?” She asked, knowing she was failing to hide her excitement.

“You are worse at keeping secrets than I am,” Danny said, staring at her.

“If you say so. But we need to get going if you are going to get ice-cream,” Jazz said, deflecting.

“Uh-huh,” Danny said, still suspicious. He shifted the car into reverse, and both he and Jazz turned to make sure he didn’t hit someone as he pulled out. He drove through the parking lot, slowing to wave at the flock of seagulls that were currently tearing apart a deli sandwich. He pulled up to the road, about to turn when Jazz made her move.

“Why don’t we listen to some relaxing music on our way,” She said, all too innocently. She turned the volume up, the unmistakable sound of flute and harp warbled through the speakers.

“No,” Danny cried, horrified. His mouth fell open as he stared at the car’s radio, not moving even though he was clear to drive.

“ Oh Danny Boy, the pipes, the pipes are calling~ ” The car crooned. Danny groaned loudly, trying to drown out the lovely soprano voices of Celtic Women.

“Jazzy, please! Have mercy on your brother!” Danny begged.

“I have know idea what you mean, Baby Brother,” Jazz said, grinning. “You can turn, you know. There isn’t anyone coming.”

“Jazz!” He cried. “Please.”

“Come on, don’t get distracted. Just think of that frosty treat, cold core ghosty. Go on,” Jazz mocked. Danny fake sniffled as he pulled onto the road.

“Jazz, this is torture. I hate this song! You know I hate this song.”

“What? You hate this song? This is brand new information. I guess I was due to learn something new since you refused to tell me about the seagulls,” Jazz said. “Here, I’ll change it for you.”

Jazz pressed the button that would change the song. A soft organ played a delicate melody.

“ Oh Danny boy -” sang Johnny Cash.

“Jazz!” Danny yelled. “Jazz, why?”

“Oh dear, it seems like this entire CD is made of only covers of the world-renowned Irish hit Danny Boy . Who would make such a thing?” Jazz grinned as her brother expertly stopped at the redlight. “Great job, Danny. You’re doing great.”

“Please, just kill me Jazz. This is cruel and unusual punishment,” Danny said, reaching to turn the car radio off. Jazz slapped his hand out of the way.

“Both hands on the steering wheel, Mister,” She admonished.

“Jazz, I’m sorry! Yes, the seagulls came through a portal. But they are just birds. Please just stop this torment,” Danny yelled over Johnny Cash.

“So interesting, little brother. I am really glad you told me,” Jazz said. She clicked the radio. A fiddle introduced the Daniel O’Donnell version of the song. Danny made an inhuman noise of distress, causing goosebumps on Jazz’s arms.

Jazz directed him, sometimes yelling over the Irish tune to make herself heard. Danny moaned and groaned, throwing quite a tantrum over each iteration of the song as they faded into the next. His driving did not reflect his words, though. Jazz only had to correct him slightly, warning him that he was drifting into other lanes here and there. She considered asking him about the “not-legal driving” he had insinuated, as it really was impressive that this was his first time. Instead, Jazz sang along happily as her brother screeched his displeasure. Before they knew it, they were pulling into the ice cream shop. Danny was shrieking nonsense over the blaring music. A few people in the parking lot gave the car an odd look.

Jazz flicked the radio off, but Danny continued to scream until the car was completely parked. She scrunched her face as the blaring noise.

“You good?” She asked, as he stopped for breath. He gave one more inhuman shriek before ceasing. He intangibly reached into the cd player and pulled out the cd, cracking it in half.

“I am now,” He smiled. Jazz rolled her eyes, before opening the car door.

Scream had really pulled out all the stops for their ghostly ice cream theme. She had only caught a glimpse when they had driven by before. Little blob ghost silhouettes were pasted on all of the windows, statues of some of the more well known ghosts were positioned around the building. Fairy lights were strewn around the outside, each one fitted with a little green ghost bulb. The very front had an almost to scale statue of Phantom, though anyone who actually got close to Phantom could see little mistakes in the appearance. They couldn’t stand there examining every decoration, though. They had groceries in the car.

“They just can’t get my nose right,” Danny whispered, causing Jazz to giggle. Jazz opened the door for her brother and followed him in. The walls were papered with articles about the different ghost attacks as well as drawn art of the different ghosts. Streamers hung from the ceiling, wrapped around themselves in such extravagant swirls and twists that the ceiling was completely hidden in the green and purple paper. The ice cream was set up behind a counter, as any other ice cream shop would have it. But there were also shelves filled with different merchandise. T-shirts, cups, and hats with little ghosts. The logo for Scream clearly in view.

There was not a very long line, only about four people in front of the siblings. This gave them plenty of time to peruse the different flavors and options. It wasn’t a franchise, so they didn’t have as many options as a corporation like Baskin Robbins. Apparently, they even changed their flavors weekly. Jazz thought that was smart for the small time company. But she had to wonder how much money they blew on decorating the place.

Danny was cackling at the flavor names. Jazz just ignored them. More puns. Of course more puns. Did Danny give input for this place or was he just corrupting the entirety of Amity Park? It wouldn’t surprise her if puns became more popular because of a certain Ghost Hero’s penchant for using them in his witty banter. Witty in quotation marks.

“That will be $20.22. Will that be cash or card,” Jazz turned to where a worker was passing a cone to an elderly gentleman and what she assumed was his grandson. The older man whistled.

“That sure is pricey,” He said as he reached for his wallet.

“You get what you pay for. We only use the best ingredients,” The worker said unenthusiastically. The cashier waited for the elderly man to pull out his money, but the grandfather seemed distracted. He started telling the young whippersnapper about how things used to be and how far he could make a dollar go back during the depression. Jazz tuned it out as she continued to look at the options.

“Actually, Jazz. Maybe we shouldn’t do this today,” Jazz turned to Danny. He was looking away from her so she couldn’t read his expression. “This is probably going to take a while, and we do have groceries in the car.”

“It’s fine, Danny. There aren’t that many people waiting. We have time,” Jazz assured him.

“I mean, it is already getting late. And I still have to make that pie without Mom noticing. So maybe we should just leave,” Danny rubbed the back of his neck.

“We’re already here. I thought it was a medical necessity that you get some ice cream?” Jazz was confused. He had been so insistent.

“Yeah, but I think we should just go. We don’t want to be late,” Danny said, turning toward the door.

“Wait, Danny,” Jazz grabbed her brother’s arm. “We came all the way here. And I know you still want some ice cream so why-?”

“It’s nothing, Jazz. I just changed my mind,” Danny refused to make eye contact with her, but glanced over at the man still regaling the tired employee with the value of a dollar. Jazz followed his gaze, before it clicked. Danny was flushed with embarrassment, hand hovering over the pocket that held his wallet. A wallet she would guess was quite a bit lighter after buying gifts. One that was often empty because of ghost related costs.

“You know, I’m feeling really bad about subjecting you to all of those covers of Danny Boy . How about I pay for the ice cream this time instead?” Jazz said.

“Wait, you don’t have to do that,” Danny said, finally meeting her eyes.

“I don’t have to, but I am going to. It wasn’t very ethical of a future psychologist to subject my younger brother to musical torment. Even if it was my right as an older sister. Just don’t get it in my car. Besides, that Coffee Carnage ice cream actually sounds really delicious,” Jazz pulled Danny back over next to the display. Danny made another half-hearted attempt to leave but Jazz ignored him. “What are you going to get?”

“...I guess the Harshmallow Chocolate Chunk,” Danny sighed.

“Even you know that that pun is bad, right?” Jazz asked. Danny snorted.

“No such thing,” He chuckled. The line finally moved.

The siblings got their ice cream and Jazz grabbed so many napkins that the employees had to step in to limit her. The Fenton's walked out of the shop, eating their ice cream and heading for the car. Jazz decided to drive the remainder of the way home, and Danny did not object. It was a little difficult to eat ice cream and drive. And neither Jazz nor Danny felt comfortable with Danny attempting that on his first day. Jazz stuffed the napkins all around Danny to make sure that he didn’t drop the sticky chocolate marshmallow creation on her interior.

“Jazz, I’m fifteen not five. I’m not going to drop it in your car,” He rolled his eyes before fumbling his cone. He had to catch the scoop in his fingers as it threatened to tip off into his lap.

“Right, that makes me feel so much better,” Jazz said as she watched her brother lick his fingers clean. “If my car is chocolate-covered after this, you are going to wish that I still had that CD.”

“Sir, yes, sir!” Danny saluted with his sticky hand. Jazz suppressed a groan and pulled out onto the road. She forgot to take an alternate route and soon Danny was pointing out every Road Work Ahead sign on the road. She felt the muscle in her eye twitching.

After threatening to shove her ice cream in Danny's face if he didn't stop, Danny focused on eating his treat. Jazz kept glancing at him from the corner of her eye. When Danny smirked like that, it usually didn't bode well. Even so, the younger sibling didn't pull anything even after Jazz parked in the Fenton driveway. Suspicious.

Unfortunately, Jazz didn't have time to grill her little brother on the mischief he was planning. As soon as the car was stopped, he shoved the final bit of his cone in his mouth (paper and all, ew Danny) had unbuckled and flung himself out of the car. Jazz watched as her brother scrambled to grab every bag at one time, nearly dropping most of them.

"You're going to drop the eggs," Jazz warned.

"No I'm not," Danny said.

He dropped the egg carton and they would have splattered on the ground if he had reacted even a moment slower. However, precariously balanced on his knee wasn't a super stable place to be. Jazz grabbed it from him, raising an eyebrow. He chuckled nervously, attempting to rub the back of his neck. But the plastic bag on his wrist slapped him in the face. Jazz bent over with laughter, which Danny joined.

Danny and Jazz walked into the house and straight to the kitchen. She started to put the eggs in the refrigerator, but thought better of it. Danny was going to use them soon anyway. She sat them on the counter and turned to the rest of the supplies. She reached out to unpack the groceries, when suddenly Danny was there blocking her way.

"I got this. You don't need to do that," Danny said quickly.

"I know I don't need to, but I want to. It's just a few things," Jazz said.

"Yeah, but you've already done so much! And I've taken up almost all of your Sunday. Didn't you have to do something for-um. You have a penpal, right? Or, er- the kid you tutor in English online. Weren’t you supposed to message them today?" Danny fidgeted. Jazz's eyes widened before she glanced at her watch.

"Oh, Ancients, you're right! I was supposed to message him twenty minutes ago!" Jazz said, she ran out of the kitchen. She called back "Let me know if you need any help!"

It turns out, her tutee was running late as well. So, no harm done. Jazz spent the next hour helping him, keeping a constant ear out for her little brother. Afterwards, she decided to get a little bit of her homework for next week done. She hoped Danny would come ask for help if he needed it. She hoped that he had learned that she was there for him. When she finally shut off her computer and walked down to check on Danny, he was placing the pie cautiously on the table. The whipped cream was a bit lopsided, but it looked cute.

"That looks nice, Danny," Jazz said. Danny beamed.

"Thanks. I had to cull some of the ectodogs in the fridge. They really wanted to take a bite out of me instead of the pie."

"Why don't I run upstairs and get my present? Then we can get Mom out of the lab to wish her a Happy Mothers day."

"Sounds good to me," Danny nodded. Jazz took a quick trip up to her room. She grabbed her perfectly wrapped gift and brought it downstairs. Danny had found a gift bag for the book, and it was sitting next to the pie. Jazz sat her gift next to the pie, as well. Before she could turn to the Lab, the door burst open and the heavily armed Fenton parents rushed out.

"Sorry, kids. You are going to have to find something for dinner tonight. We just got a call about a potentially haunted house over on Northshore. Don't wait up, okay?" Maddie Fenton said, rushing through the kitchen. Jack hot on her heels.

"Wait, but-"Jazz called after.

"No can do, Jazzy! A Fenton waits for nothing! Especially red lights," Jack Fenton called back. The front door slammed shut, and their parents were gone. Jazz just stood there, mouth ajar. Oh, Danny had worked so hard. And they were just going to leave? She turned to her little brother.

He was eating a slice of the key lime pie (how did he already slice it?). He seemed bored.

"Danny, I am so sorry-"

"Jazz, don't worry about it. We can give her our gifts later. It's not a big deal," Danny shrugged and took another bite of pie. "You want a piece?"

"Um, actually Danny, I don't really-"

"-like key lime pie? I know. I may be clueless, but I'm not blind," Danny grinned and pulled something from under the table. Jazz leaned forward to get a better look.

The little tiramisu she had seen at the store was sitting on a colorful platter. Jazz didn't know what to say.

"I just wanted to say thanks. You know, for letting me drag you all over Amity today. And teaching me how to drive. And for just always having my back, you know, in general," Danny rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly as Jazz took the platter, still speechless. "You're a great big sister, and I love you. I guess. But if you tell anyone about this conversation, I will deny everything."

Jazz fingered the platter-no not a platter. The smooth surface was much too light. Gave too much under the weight of the tiny cake. She picked up the plastic box the cake was in and felt a wet prickle in her eye.

Bearburt Knows It All by C.L. Werk. Jazz gently sat the plastic box on the table and ran a finger over the shiny cover. She traced the letters slowly with her finger, just as she did the first time she read it. She looked up at Danny, who was fidgeting in his seat. He stuffed another bite of pie in his mouth. Jazz laughed wetly, and rushed around the table. She folded her brother into a tight hug, ignoring his protests.

“I love you too, Danny,” Jazz sobbed. Danny chuckled before hugging Jazz as well. Both relished the moment of peace their life so desperately needed.

Words are hard. It's hard to express only in words the love between two siblings. Because it wasn’t always tender. It wasn’t always kind. It was chaotic, and loud, and full of energy. Even with all the words Jazz knew, she knew that no word could ever explain the feeling in that moment. So she held her brother tight, and she would always hold him tight. Because he may drive her crazy, but she wouldn’t miss it for the world.

#Danny Phantom #invisobang 2021 #Danny Fenton #Jazz Fenton #Fluff #My Writing #Fanfiction #Comfort #Sibling Bonding

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