#i wanna put him in my pocket and feed him little pieces of fruit

[still-we-rise]

Käärijä moodboard

[giuseppe-yuki]

pranks

carlos sainz x meerkat shapeshifter!reader

w.c.: 1.5k

warnings: a few curse words?

part of my shapeshifting!reader series

summary: a prank kind of backfires on you and carlos

picture credits from pinterest :)

honestly, you thought your favorite mode of transportation must be riding on carlos’ broad shoulders. with such a tall vantage point, you could see farther ahead compared to if you walking on the ground. plus, you wouldn’t be trampled on by over-eager fans, you didn’t have to tire your legs out, and you’d be able to catch a whiff of the familiar smell of carlos’ cologne. 

you adjust your grip on carlos’ racing red ferrari kit, digging your paws into the soft material and curling your body around his neck. the paddock in suzuka was real pretty, with cherry blossoms framing the walkway.

carlos continues walking into the paddock, occasionally stopping to sign hats and merch. a few little fans asked to pet you too, and you gladly scurried down carlos’ arm to let them stroke your fur with sticky fingers that kids always seem to have. a child completely covered in george merch even stopped to hand-feed you a piece of fruit. 

when he arrives in his motorhome, he gently sets you down on the sofa. he collapses next to you, body sprawled on the couch. “ugh, that was exhausting.” he says exasperatedly. “there is still-” he checks his watch. “two hours until fp3?? i swear to god, my manager must have messed up the schedule.” 

he leans back into the couch, and then fishes a peanut out of the pocket of his jeans. your boyfriend always seemed to have a stache of your favorite meerkat-friendly snacks in his pocket. not that you minded- you were always down for a little snack now and then.

he flings the peanut at you, and you manage to avoid the flying nut by a centimeter. you whip your head back at him, glaring at him the most vicious way possible. 

his mouth is open, hand still frozen in the throwing position. “omg! i swear to god i did not mean to throw it that hard, mi amor.” he scoops you up and pats your tiny head. reaching into his pocket again, he takes out another peanut and hands it to you gingerly. 

you accept the peanut and crack it open, but continue to glare at him. while you munch on the peanut, carlos looks down at you with a glimmer of mischievousness in his big brown eyes. you knew that look- he only did that when he had a particularly funny prank that he wanted to pull (the last time he had that look in his eyes was when he came up with the idea to put 100 miniature rubber snakes around charles’ drivers room). 

“i’ve just had the funniest idea,” he exclaims. “since we have so much time on our hands, we should go to mclaren to annoy lando!” 

ever since being associated with carlos, you have been dragged into so many of his pranks around the paddock that a glance at your meerkat form has people wondering if carlos was planning another mischievous trick. it was the polar opposite of your normal human form. i mean, who would suspect carlos’ nice reserved girlfriend to also be his havoc-causing meerkat sidekick?

the mclaren employees shoot you both suspicious glances as carlos strolls through the mclaren motorhome. he creeps around corners and listens through every door. you hold on to his team kit with your sharp paws for dear life- you surely would have slid off already if you hadn’t. it’s only when he comes across a sitting area with two familiar figures that he stops. 

“you’re not very adventurous with food, are you?” you hear oscar say, holding what seems to be a red-bean mochi in between his fingertips. 

“well, i don’t wanna be,” lando shoots back, pushing the japanese snack away from him.

carlos creeps behind lando, and hands you several peanuts that he fished from his pockets. taking advantage of lando and oscar’s bickering, he lets you slide off of his shoulders. you bolt full speed towards lando and start throwing the peanuts at his head while screeching. 

he yelps, jumps out of his chair, and scurries behind a nearby table to hide. oscar, spotting your tiny figure compared to lando’s cowering body next to the table, starts cackling. 

a full hour hadn’t even passed for carlos to get that look in his eyes again. this time, you were busy piecing together a 2000 piece puzzle of ayrton senna in the mostly empty dining hall when you see him approach you.

“what now,” you say, raising an eyebrow. 

a wide grin splits your boyfriend’s face. “let’s go steal charles’ helmet!” he whispers, just in case charles or any of his team members are nearby. 

poor charles was almost always on the receiving end of carlos’ pranks (although you did hear about pierre somehow obtaining a snake and sneaking into charles’ room with it). you swear that it is going to backfire one day. 

nevertheless, you agree, leaving half of senna’s face and his car’s front wing done on the table. 

it was a really quick process, as you shifted, scurried past the mechanics and lifted charles’ signature red helmet off of the counter in one swoop. no one batted an eye as you pushed the helmet out of the garage and into carlos’ arms. 

“yess! good job, baby!” he cheers, once the helmet is in his hand. “now where to hide it?”

he looks around, before finally walking into the gap in between the aston martin and ferrari motorhomes. you scurry after him, paws hitting the ground at full speed. at the end is a little secluded space, surrounded on all four sides by walls or other teams’ motorhomes. he snickers, and sets charles’ helmet on the ground. pulling out his phone, he snaps a picture, ready to send to charles as a taunt. 

you proceed to turn, brushing strands of meerkat fur off of your flowy shortskirt. “not even a thank you, carlos?” you say, tilting your head. “i risked my life out there stealing his helmet!” 

before he can answer, you hear the clonk of a waterbottle dropping near the ferrari motorhome. standing there, mouth open in shock, stands charles leclerc, the owner of the helmet that you stole. “did you just-” he starts.

carlos, realizing your secret might get out through charles, marches through the gap, snatches the familiar white celcius water bottle from the ground, and yanks charles into the secluded space. 

you stand very still next to the helmet, not knowing if you wanted to bolt and hide in a hole so you’d never be seen again, or to slap carlos for exposing your secret, to his teammate, no less. you knew that carlos’ tricks would backfire one day.

“mate, please, please, please do not tell anyone about this!” carlos says, clutching charles’ shirt. 

once the initial shock has worn off, charles shocked expression turns into a smirk. “of course i’ll tell people about this! you literally stole my helmet and you expect me not to expose you for taking my things? besides, it’s a payback for pranking me so much! i still find those stupid rubber snakes that you hid in my room everywhere. i always have to call my girlfriend to help me get rid of them.” 

you step up next to carlos and charles, a confused expression on your face. “wait. so you didn’t see me turn?”

a look of understanding flashes across charles’ face. “ohhh!!” he remarks. “you mean the meerkat thing?”

“yes!” you and carlos both say simultaneously. 

“don’t worry, i won’t tell!” charles says, to both of your guy’s relief. “don’t you know, my girlfriend can shift into a hedgehog? no offense, i think that’s way cooler than a meerkat,” he states with a smug smile on his face.

“oi, pendejo!” carlos says, narrowing his eyes. “how dare you say that!”

you laugh, putting an hand on carlos’ shoulder. “it’s okay baby, i’m just glad this didn’t turn out into a bad situation!” 

charles shoots you an appreciative grin, knowing you saved him from potential physical altercation with carlos. it quickly dissipates, however, when he sees his helmet behind your legs.

“right, back to the helmet, how dare you steal it! fred would’ve killed me if i showed up to fp3 without it!” 

understanding the power charles has now knowing your secret, carlos apologizes. “we are sorry, charles. i promise i won’t ever steal any of your things again!” 

charles continues to stand there, waiting for him to continue.

“-and i won’t play any more pranks on you, i swear!” he says quickly. 

charles nods once, satisfied with carlos’ promise.

from side facing the motorhomes, fernando sticks his head into the gap separating the two teams. spotting you three standing there, he jokes, “you guys having a party in there, or what?” 

t-minus 20 minutes until fp3, charles sets his water bottle on the counter and pulls on his balaclava. across the motorhome, carlos is doing this same. when charles finishes adjusting the material over his head and nose, he suddenly sees a flash of fur on the counter. it’s you, bolting away like your life is on the line with his water bottle in hand. 

“CARLOS!” you hear him shout.

from your hiding spot in one of the engineer’s headphone cubbies, you see carlos scramble over to charles. 

“what? is everything alright?” carlos says, concerned. 

“your girlfriend just stole my waterbottle!” he whispers heatedly, pointing at you sitting innocently in the cubby like everything was normal, except for the fact that a white racing waterbottle, complete with a long straw and a “charles leclerc” sticker is sitting next to you. carlos laughs, “i mean- i did only promise that i won’t steal anything or pull any pranks on you; i didn't promise my girlfriend wouldn't!”

taglist: @ilivbullyingjeongin @ale-522 @formula1-motogpfan @aceyalonso @my0hmary @mbappebby @rakshatos @heartsforleclerc @papaya-twinks @madkohi

[mostly-marvel-musings]

Hii! Could u maybe do a 12 & 13 from fluff prompts with Bucky?

Also congratulations on the milestone! 🤍

Just say yes

A/N: Beware of the fluff attack and Bucky being an absolute puppy dog!

Not my gif! Credits to the owner.

Prompts - Dancing in the kitchen & Proposal gone wrong. 

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader 

Warnings: Fluff town, a curse word or two.

Word count: 1500ish

Requests & Challenges

Bucky Barnes Taglist - @marvelgirl7 @mycosmicparadise @feetoffthetablee

Everything Taglist – @godofplumsandthunder @ladyacrasia @agustdowney @swaggysposts @littlegasps @little-baby-vixen @another-stark-sub @supraveng @kahlanmars @disappointmentofthefam @pandaxnienke @tom-hlover @just-the-hiddles @fyreball66 @asmigurub @avantgardium-leviosa @imerdwarf @gladiosamicitias @fanofalltheficsx @ladyburberry

Tags are open! Send me an ask or DM if you wish to be included in any of these lists ;))

.

As the saying goes, ‘everything that can go wrong, will go wrong’ Bucky found it applicable to his current situation now more than ever.

He had been planning the perfect evening while you were away on a small mission with Sam and were expected to be home in less than an hour. He’d ordered your favourite pizza, kept that special bottle of wine you’d been saving on the table with two glasses, even texted every single person in the team to not disturb once you were home. 

Bucky wanted you all to himself tonight. That and the fact that he was planning to propose. 

You arrived fifteen minutes later looking tattered and exhausted. Bucky frowned, wiping his hands on a kitchen towel as he heard the front door slam shut, concerned when he didn’t hear your usually chirpy voice, he walked out to greet you. 

“Welcome home sweetheart, how was th—”

He stopped mid-sentence after getting a good look at your state, hair in disarray, minor cuts decorating your forehead and chin. It wasn’t the first but today was supposed to be an easy one. 

“Oh you look terrible.” 

“Thanks I feel terrible.” 

Bucky chuckled, pulling you into a hug before pressing a kiss on your temple, immediately feeling your body sink into his. 

“What went wrong? I thought the mission was fairly—” 

“Yeah except it wasn’t. I’m going to take a bath okay.” 

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

“No.” 

Sighing, you gently pushed him away to get to the bathroom, peeling off the unitard as you went,  exhaustion making you forget he was waiting for a kiss, but he understood.

“Alright, don’t be too long though. I made you dinner, and I can guarantee it’s edible this time.” 

“I’m sorry babe but I’m not really hungry. All I want is sleep.” 

You mumbled, your voice laden with sleep as you reached for the door, missing Bucky’s dejected face that he quickly recovered from, not wanting you to worry. 

“How about I get you a glass of wine and patch you up?” He offered.

“Yep.”

.

You practically crawled into bed after you bathed, falling asleep instantly. Bucky climbed in shortly after, racking his brain for yet another attempt of proposing as he draped his arm across your waist, gazing at your sleeping form for a while before kissing your forehead. 

. 

A lingering aroma of fresh bacon and eggs woke you up the next day. Peeking through a half open eye, you saw Bucky holding a tray of food in his hands and your favourite flower between his teeth.

“God bless you Bucky Barnes!” You exclaimed, sitting up against the headboard with the biggest smile on your face, making grabby hands at the food as your stomach growled. 

He placed the tray in your lap and tucked the flower behind your ear, whispering ‘good morning’ before leaning in for a kiss which you happily returned.

Bucky had already cleared your schedule for the day, made sure that no one bothered you today, he was determined to not let you out of the house before getting that ring on your finger. 

You took turns eating yourself and feeding your super caring boyfriend who had gone through all this trouble for you, not really saying much but rather enjoying the silence you shared. 

“Hey I got us a table at that Italian restaurant that you love for dinner.” Bucky announced matter-of-factly, hiding his nervous self under the facade of a casual dinner date. 

“I’ll have to check with Agent Hill if there’s some updates after last night’s blow-up but I’m sure th—” 

“Oh that won’t be necessary.” 

“It won’t?” You eyed the man who kept his gaze on the piece of fruit he was toying with in the plate.

“Y-yeah I cleared your schedule for the day.” 

“Really?”

“Yes. I want you all to myself.” Bucky’s soft smile warmed your heart as did his honesty, making you lean forward and place a chaste kiss to his lips. 

“So it’s a date Barnes.”

“It’s a date.”

.

Bucky went over his plan once more after deciding to drop the idea of proposing in a public place, he figured he would take you out for a nice meal first, get home, maybe open a nice bottle of wine with some cake and do it then. 

He still had some issues when people disturbed your peace while out at a public place or a social gathering. People would stare, ask for pictures with his vibranium arm or just generally give him the look making him utterly uncomfortable. He decided he couldn’t afford that tonight, everything had to be perfect. He even decided to take the efforts of making you a chocolate cake from scratch. 

Evening rolled by and the kitchen counter was a mess of broken eggshells, a thousand mixing bowls and spoons, the floor covered in sugar and cocoa powder while Bucky wiped the sweat off his forehead and finally got the batter in the oven. 

Looking around, he knew it would eventually have to be professionally cleaned or it would be sleeping on the couch for a week. Somehow he had to evade you from entering the kitchen until he popped the question. 

The super soldier double checked the ring box in his back pocket and set the timer, getting to make the ganache for the cake. 

“Bucky! Get in here right now!” You yelled from the bathroom, voice sounding downright pissed off. 

“Ah fuck what now.” 

Muttering under his breath, he ran, only to find your fully clothed self drenched as the water sprayed everywhere from the broken shower. 

“Oh God, are you alright?”

“Besides being fucking soaked and ruining my new dress & make-up? Oh just fabulous!” You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest and stepping away to let him in the mini pool.

You stood next to him shivering while he tried his best to fix it, his vibranium arm doing the trick as he closed the tap, now completely soaked the same as you. 

A tiny box fallen on the wet floor caught your attention and you bent to pick it up, gasping when you opened it to find the most beautiful diamond ring sitting inside the cushioned box. 

It felt more and more real the longer you stared at it, unable to form words, glancing at the man you loved and who, by some miracle loved you back & enough to take this next big step. 

“Bucky…” 

“Hmm?” He wasn’t paying attention.

“What uh..when did you—please look at me.” You croaked, holding the tiny box up in your palm.

Bucky’s eyes turned wide before his hand automatically went for the back pocket of his jeans from where the ring must’ve fallen.

“Fucking hell.”

“What? I hope this isn’t for someone else.” You chuckled at your terrible attempts of a joke, tears already gathering in your eyes while Bucky scratched the back of his neck nervously. 

“Okay I’m gonna do this now. Wait fuck, let me get you a towel first, you’re shivering.”

He hurried to wrap you in a fluffy towel, walked you out and sat you on the bed before knelt down on both knees and cleared his throat.

“Here we go. None of the amazing things that have happened in my life in the past few years would’ve happened, if it weren’t for you. You have been one of the most integral parts of my journey towards healing and by no means is it over, but I know I can’t go ahead without you. You’ve loved me through my worst and by some miracle continue to do so even today.” He chuckled, tears gathering in his eyes while you were down right sobbing at this point.

“I mean it wasn’t supposed to happen like this, I had a whole thing planned and now the kitchen’s a big mess and we have a pool in the bathroom. But again when has anything worked perfectly for us right?”

You giggled through tears, nodding as your mind automatically played all those memories, first date, first kiss, the first ‘i love you’s, everything. It wasn’t the smoothest ride with Bucky but it was the best and you wouldn’t have it any other ways. 

“So Miss (Y/N) (Y/L/N), would you be interested in spending the rest of your life with a semi-stable hundred year old man?” 

Wiping your tears, you knelt in front of the man yourself as fresh tears appeared, cupped Bucky’s face in your hands and kissed him with all the love you had in you.

“What do you say?” He mumbled, never breaking the kiss as he stood up with you and walked you over to the bed.

“What do you want me to say? I already found the ring.” You giggled, flopping on the bed and peeling your clothes off, dinner reservations  long forgotten. 

“Just say yes.”

“Yes.” Saying it out loud made you believe it actually happened, as Bucky climbed between your parted legs.

“Say it again.”

“Yes!” 

.

Two hours later when you were finally ready to leave the bedroom, you found yourself in the kitchen in Bucky’s arms, swaying to some 40s ballads that he put on, the floor was a complete mess but neither of you cared. The cake he’d prepared was mostly burnt - thankfully he ran to turn the oven off right before giving you your second orgasm of the night. 

But you wouldn’t trade this moment, this day or this man for anything. 

[king-finnigan]

Please do 2 and 49 for the geraskier prompts!

2: Royal AU + 49: Fake Married

Sorry it took me a while, anon! School’s been eating me alive.

***

Geralt’s always loved horses. He loves their elegance, loves their strength, loves their personalities and the way they press their noses against his pockets, looking for treats. 

He’s always loved being around them, he’s always loved brushing them and spoiling them after a hard day of ploughing the fields that surround the farm. 

Today is Wednesday, though, and his dad always forces him to take the day off on Wednesday - he’s not sure why Wednesday, specifically. Vesemir never dignified him with an answer, when he asked.

So, he gets up early in the morning, like he does every day - he’s never been one for sleeping in, anyways - and goes to the stable. He should brush Roach and Beetle, before maybe taking one of them on a ride through the hills - probably Roach, since Beetle is getting a bit older, and she’s never really been the adventurous type. He doesn’t blame her of course, after all the hard work she does day in day out, she deserves to stand around and do nothing all day if she wants to.

He walks out of the cottage, the late spring mist swirling around his feet as he walks through the orchard. He stops by one of the trees, reaching up to pick three slightly-too-ripe apples that would never make it to the market, before he continues walking to the stables. 

“Mornin’,” he greets Beetle, feeding her one of the apples. She munches on it happily, her big, brown eyes looking at him intently. He frowns a bit. She never looks at him like that. He shrugs it off, walking to the next stable, where Roach is. “And good morning to you,” he mutters, giving her the second apple, putting the third one in his pocket for later. 

Roach eats it, but butts him with her nose immediately after, shaking her head when he looks at her curiously. He walks back to the door, taking a brush off one of the hooks on the wall as he talks: “Something the matter, girls? You two seem a bit agitated.”

The horses, of course, don’t reply. He’s always loved them for that.

“Alright,” he mutters, a she turns back around. “Who first?” Roach neighs, shaking her head again. “Alright, alright. Impatient today, aren’t we?” he says, chuckling a bit as he opens the door to her box, stepping inside.

He stops dead in his tracks when he sees someone huddled in the corner.

“What the hell?” He’s only aware of the fact that he’s dropped the brush when he hears it clatter on the floor.

Blue eyes shine up at him, red-rimmed, half-covered in a mess of brown curls. He steps forward, towards the young man curled up in the corner, hands balling by his side. He doesn’t care if he gets attacked, he can defend himself, he only cares about the horses. The stranger is so close to Roach’s hind leg, and if he were to break it, Geralt would have to put Roach down - and he definitely does not want to lose his best friend.

“Who are you? What are you doing here?”

The young man sniffles, wiping his face on his dirty sleeve. His clothes look fancy enough, like they cost a lot of money, but they’re all torn and bloodied, seemingly from a gash in the man’s forehead, and the scratches on his cheeks and hands. 

“Sorry,” the stranger whispers, “it was cold last night, and I had nowhere else to go.”

“Why not?”

“What?”

Geralt sighs, crossing his arms in front of him. This is his only fucking day off in the week, he doesn’t have time to question the stranger that’s broken into his stable. “Why’d you have nowhere else to go?”

The stranger rubs his reddened eyes again, before clasping his hands around his stomach - Geralt can hear it growling from here. “Ran away.”

Geralt sighs again, sitting down on the ground. “Why?”

“It was...” the young man clears his throat “it was... a prison.”

Geralt clenches his fists. “You escaped from prison?” He plants his hands on the ground, ready to get up and get on Roach to find the nearest palace guard - if this man is a criminal, then Geralt does not want to be caught red-handed harbouring him, even if he didn’t really consent to it.

“Nonono!” The young man reaches forward, trying to stop Geralt. “Not literally. I mean- I uh...” He rubs the back of his neck, frowning. “Shit. I’m so sorry, I thought I would be able to leave before you found me, I didn’t know you’d be getting up so early.” He waits for an answer, but Geralt merely purses his lips, jaw clenched.

The young man rubs the back of his neck again. “My dad, he uh... he’s a bit... very... incredibly overbearing. He wants to control my life, and I don’t want that. So I ran away.”

The young man’s stomach growls again, and the delicate features scrunch up in pain. Geralt sighs, and takes the last apple out of his pocket, the one he intended on eating himself, and rolls it towards the other man. 

Wide, blue eyes look at him in wonder and gratitude, as nimble fingers reach for the fruit. “Thank you, uh...”

“Geralt.”

“Thank you, Geralt.” He’s about to take a bite, when he stops himself. “I’m uh... Jaskier, by the way.” He bites into the fruit, face relaxing as he sighs deeply, a soft hum at the back of his throat.

“You’re welcome, Uh-Jaskier.”

Jaskier rolls his eyes and smiles at him, cheeks stuffed with apple. Geralt can’t help but smile back. Jaskier may be strange, and kind of off-putting, familiar in a way that Geralt feels like he should know the man, but not in a personal way, and he may look like a bit of a poncy prick, with his fancy clothes and neatly cut hair, but Geralt can also see the relief in those blue eyes, see the weight of the world lift off those thin shoulders.

And maybe he feels a little bad, sure. And maybe he decides not to chase Jaskier away the first chance he gets. But he’s definitely chasing the young man away the second chance he gets.

“So, Geralt,” Jaskier says, muffled through the bits of apple, “do you always talk to horses?”

Geralt frowns, shrugging. “I suppose so. Do you always run through the woods like a madman?”

Jaskier frowns, indignant look on those delicate features. “What makes you think I was running like a madman?”

Geralt looks him up and down, in a way that’s clearly saying: Did you even look at yourself? “You’re covered in scratches and bruises and your clothes are ripped. Either you were behaving like an idiot, or you got beaten up.” It’s silent for half a beat. “Though those two aren’t mutually exclusive.”

Jaskier gasps at him, nimble fingers on his chest, mouth agape. “How dare you. I’ll let you know I’m-” He cuts himself up, his finger hanging in the air between them.

Geralt pulls his eyebrows up. “You’re what?”

The young man shakes his head. “Nothing,” he mumbles.

Geralt shrugs again, turning around when he hears the thunder of hooves on the dirt, outside. A distant shout: “Julian! Julian Alfred Pankratz!”

Geralt frowns, shaking his head lightly, as he turns back to Jaskier, who’s blushing from his slender neck to his messy hair. “Wait,” he mutters, “are you Julian? Are they calling out for you?”

Jaskier looks at him, wide, blue eyes guilty and sad, so incredibly sad. 

“What’s this noise all about?” He hears Vesemir shout in the distance, probably standing in the doorway to the cottage.

Julian Alfred Pankratz. He’s heard that name before. 

He squints his eyes, raking through his memory. Oh no. It makes sense now. The clumsiness in the woods, the fancy clothing, the familiar-but-not-that-familiar face. Julian Alfred Pankratz. The crown prince of Kaedwen.

He stands up abruptly, heading for the door. He’s not going to get himself and his dad arrested for harboring a runaway prince, for the love of the gods.

“Wait!” Jaskier calls behind him, still on the floor, and for some reason, Geralt does stop. He doesn’t turn back, though, and simply waits for Jaskier’s explanation.

“He was gonna marry me off. My dad. To some noble lady from Nazair. I don’t wanna marry a noble lady from Nazair.”

Geralt sighs, rolling his eyes. “I completely understand. Your life must be so hard.”

He can hear Jaskier sniffle behind him, probably crying again. “I know you don’t understand. I wouldn’t, either. I mean, she’s pretty and she’s nice and she’s a noble lady from Nazair. But-” it’s quiet for a second or two, as the palace guards keep shouting the prince’s name, outside, “but my dad doesn’t understand that I don’t wanna marry a lady.”

Geralt looks over his shoulder. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t wanna marry a lady,” Jaskier whispers again, tears in his eyes, blush creeping up his neck, hands trembling in front of him as he stares at the floor. “He doesn’t approve.”

“Oh.” Geralt thinks for a second, lets Roach bump his shoulder with her nose, lets her snort against his frown. “And if you go back now, you have to marry her?”

Jaskier nods, a single tear rolling down his cheek. 

“And if you were already married? He can’t break the sanctity of marriage, once it’s completed.”

Jaskier looks up at that, frowning at him. “I guess, but I don’t know anyone who’s willing to marry me right here and now.”

Geralt sighs, and looks at Roach, who looks right back at him. He can’t believe he’s gonna do this. 

He turns around, kneeling in the straw, as the footsteps of the guards approach the stable. It’s only minutes until they find Jaskier. 

Geralt takes a piece of straw, taking Jaskier’s left hand, tying the straw around his finger. He holds his hand out. “You do the same.” Jaskier does as he’s told, eyes confused but realization slowly dawning, hands trembling.

“But- the ritual of getting married takes longer, this isn’t marrying, we’re not-”

“Yes, I know that,” Geralt hisses impatiently, then beckons to the door with his head, “but they don’t know that. We just have to keep pretending.”

He doesn’t know why he’s doing this, doesn’t know why he’s basically about to throw his whole life at the farm away for a life at the court, but he feels bad for Jaskier, feels the same anger and frustration and sadness mirrored in himself about not being understood, not being accepted for who you love.

He remembers a summer love, long ago. He remembers Vesemir chasing him away.

“This is just temporary, okay? Just until you find someone you actually love, and then you can marry him and reveal that this was all fake, alright?”

Jaskier’s finally finished tying the straw around his fingers, but his hands clasp Geralt’s before he can move away. “Thank you,” he whispers, and Geralt loses a little piece of himself in those ocean eyes.

He shakes the sudden dizziness away, and pulls Jaskier up, taking his hand, leading him outside.

Immediately, they’re surrounded by guards, their swords aimed at Geralt’s chest. He swallows thickly. “Let the prince go!” One of the guards says, the point of his blade pushing into the fabric of Geralt’s shirt.

“No!” Jaskier shouts, standing between them, clasping Geralt’s hand in his. “Don’t, McKinley. He’s-” his voice catches in his throat “he’s my husband?” he whispers.

McKinley takes a step back. “What?”

Jaskier smiles hesitantly, holding up his hand with the piece of straw around his finger, then holds Geralt’s hand up, showing the matching makeshift ring. “I got married?”

McKinley pales. “Oh, gods, Julian, I don’t want to be the one to tell your father about this.”

Jaskier shrugs. “It’s okay, I’ll explain, don’t worry about it.”

Geralt’s eyes are drawn by Vesemir, standing outside the semi-circle of guards, looking just as confused as they are. “Married?” he mouths at Geralt.

“Explain later.” Geralt mouths back.

Oh, gods, he thinks to himself, as the guards bow to him and Jaskier, one by one, muttering ‘our royal highnesses’. What have I gotten myself into?

[doctorgerth]

On Sauerkraut and Stairs

Written by: @feminist-zoro

Pseudo name: Basilisa Title: On Sauerkraut and Stairs Characters: Blackleg Sanji, Nico Robin, Trafalgar Law, Roronoa Zoro Chosen word: Drunk Fic type: humor, (kind of) domestic pirate life Warnings: cursing, weird food, drunk people being drunk

Although he would rather die than admit it, Sanji really wasn’t much of a drinker. It wasn’t a big problem since he was usually too busy providing food during parties - but from time to time the crew stumbled upon groups that were interested in getting wasted more than anything else. The Heart Pirates were – as weird as it sounds – such a group and every meeting with them had ended badly for poor Sanji and for his even poorer head. It was like they were compensating for their captain’s seriousness and strictness. The Heart Pirates had been using the opportunity of meeting the Straw Hats to its fullest and had been always dropping a heavy drinking tempo, one that even Zoro couldn’t keep up with. This time wasn’t any different and Sanji quickly found himself blabbering and stumbling, with the night still young and both crews still eager to empty all the barrels. As he was still able to control himself, he decided to withdraw for a while, with an excuse of looking for a restroom. 

He intended to head straight to the men’s quarters and dive into his bed, but he sensed someone’s presence on the deck. Well, so much for sleeping. He really couldn’t show that drunk weakness of his now, when someone had spotted him. Especially, if that person was precious Robin-chan, enjoying her book in the light of deck’s lamp and wrapped in a cute blanket.

“Robin-chwaaan~”, Sanji rushed towards her, swirling up the gangway. He tripped midway and almost fell, but Robin caught him in time.

“Sanji, are you alright?” her eyes showed concern as she smiled at him so gently and lovely as only she could smile (Sanji would definitely melt right away, but the world was still circling around him and he wasn’t fully sure what was going on). She held on to him and didn’t withdraw with her Devil Fruit ability until Sanji stood firmly on the deck and stopped looking like he’s just about to faint.

“Of course I am”, he huffed a bit more harshly than he usually talked to women, but almost immediately turned back to his silly self, eyes shining, and cheeks covered in vivid blush. “My amazing Robin-chan is so strong and beautiful! I was blessed with this wonderful rescue!”

“I’m being serious here, Sanji”, she gave him a piercing look and it knocked all ideas and resistance out of his drunk mind. “Are you really alright?”

“… I might have overdone the booze a bit.”

“Oh my”, she couldn’t help but chuckle under her breath seeing Sanji making a face of a kid caught on stealing candies. “They went too hard on you, didn’t they? My poor cook.”

Sanji just whined , “I’ll be so dead tomorrow. And this wild bunch of animals will demand a special hangover breakfast, I’m sure of it.”

“Judging by their tempo, I doubt anyone besides Zoro and Luffy will show up anywhere near food in the close future.”

“Those two alone are enough to kill me.”

Robin laughed aloud, not even bothering to cover her mouth with a hand. She stretched under blankets around her and massaged her stiff nape.

“Would you be so kind and tell Law to bring a cup of coffee for me too?”

“Everything for you, Robin-chwaaa- wait”, Sanji was already half up the stairs when he realized what exactly Robin had said to him. “Tra-guy is here?”

“He said he needed some caffeine, so he should be in the kitchen?” she pointed, but Sanji was already gone, only some muffled swears audible from distance.

Trafalgar Law was indeed in the kitchen, half buried in Sanji’s precious fridge. It took a lot of willpower for Sanji to not kick his butt to teach him a lesson on raiding the allies’ food supplies.

“Has no one told you it’s a dick move to touch other people’s stuff without permission?”, he teased him instead. “Especially if there’s a padlock on it?”

Law turned to him and gazed straight into his eyes as he continued devouring a slice of cheese. He had his pockets stuffed with – as Sanji suspected – the dainties hidden for special meals for Nami and Robin and held a jar of Nami’s hand-made tangerines in syrup. Sanji could feel his anger boiling as the Heart Pirates captain reached for another treat, a slice of ham this time, and – without breaking eye contact – slowly consumed it whole.

Sanji would really kick him for this but the world made a move against him and started swirling around again. He had to grip a counter to prevent an embarrassing fall on his ass. Law looked like he was about to interfere but with one deeper breath he realized it’s not an illness, but just the result of rum and sake.

“Blackleg-ya, you better go to sleep.” He patted Sanji’s shoulder in an awkward attempt of showing sympathy and continued with looting the kitchen. Sanji didn’t really feel like stopping him anymore, just observing him with eyes half opened, so the world wouldn’t dance anymore.

“If you’re looking for something for Robin-chan, then give her cookies with that coffee”, he suggested as Law finally got his hands on the coffee maker. “No sugar nor cream, by the way. And candies are in the storage.”

He threw him a key, missing a good foot in distance. Law immediately roomed it right into his hands, giving Sanji a disapproving look. Yeah, it was definitely time to do something about this spinning. Sanji hummed to himself some old song he randomly recalled, trying to find in the mess of his head some kind of solution. What would the old geezer tell him to do? The answer was so obvious it made Sanji laugh and almost loose his balance when he rushed to execute the idea.

In the corner of the kitchen there was that one specific barrel, which Sanji had never let anyone touch. It was full of high-quality sauerkraut he had been storing for a rainy day. The good, old (but smelly as heck and hard to feed Luffy a dose of) life-saving treat had been with the Strawhats in all dark hours, when Nami’s trees hadn’t been bearing fruit and they were out of other citruses. Sanji thought he could never be its bigger fan than he had already been – until now, as he remembered the magical feature of its juice, the real-life antidote against alcohol. The taste maybe wasn’t the best but the result? Sanji almost cried due to happiness of saving himself from a long and painful process of sobering and surviving the hangover.

Law, though, was far away from happy when he caught him gathering the juice into a cup straight from the barrel and gulping on it like on fresh, cold water. He couldn’t even look straight into Sanji’s face as he gave him the key back, “Blackleg-ya, you don’t need to be that disgusting in public.”

 “You’re the one who got his ass into my kitchen”, Sanji, teasingly, took a long and loud sip. “Shoo, get lost.”

Law looked like he was about to return the late-night snacks. He grabbed the coffeepot and cups and almost bolted out, murmuring some lame excuse under his nose. Sanji celebrated his little win with the last full cup of sauerkraut blessing.

“Robin-chwaaaan, I’m going to use the bathroom~” Then he glanced over the deck, finding his beautiful archeologist and the traumatized surgeon enjoying their coffee and relaxing on the lawn. “Wanna have a bath with me?~”

“I’ll pass but enjoy your time.” Robin sent him her cute, precious smile and he almost melted again.

“You sure you gonna make it up there, Blackleg-ya?” Law still didn’t dare to look straight at his face after their little encounter – or at least Sanji couldn’t tell it from the distance. “You’re drunk as a skunk – and I’m not putting you together, if you fall from there.”

Sanji flipped the bird at him and firmly made his way on the top level. He could feel Robin’s concerned gaze on his back, so he obviously couldn’t fail right now. There’s no way he could make her worried, not his precious Robin-chan! And with the power of sauerkraut behind him, nothing could possibly knock him dead.

He, indeed, won the fight with the stairs – but wasn’t expecting the bathroom door being slammed open for him. It alone almost made him jump but…

“DAVY FUCKING JONES!”, he screamed in pure horror as a weird creature came out, slouching and lurching towards him. He could swear it had multiple limbs and at least two heads. Sanji jumped back, way too far, as he soon learned, leaning over a railing. And, finally, falling headfirst down on the deck.

Robin and Law both acted on reflex, clashing their activated Devil Fruit abilities as a result. The upper part of Sanji’s body was held firmly by Robin’s hands and he could see his legs flying away in the opposite direction, carried by the Law’s power. Someone – maybe even he himself – cursed like an old sailor, something was thrown on the deck and been rolling while making weird noises. The terrifying creature on the top level glanced over the broken railing as Robin put half-conscious Sanji’s part on the lawn.

“Is he finally dead?”, it asked, revealing itself as Roronoa Zoro; very confused and heavily drunk as well – but definitely pleased at a sight of what he had done. The extra limbs Sanji saw were nothing more than his three swords, moved for some reason on the shoulder instead of hip. The ‘second head’ was meanwhile a huge pitcher full of delicious sake. Zoro drank straight from it, almost chocking on the drink and his own laugh.

“You could have killed him, you idiot”, Law scolded him. Together with Robin he tried to put Sanji back together into one piece, what, obviously, wasn’t that easy. The cook was resisting, kicking like mad and turning his torso around in nothing but a pure drunk panic. Robin had to sit on his chest and pin him down, so Law could room the rest back on its place without any other fail.

“Like hell I was expecting him to walk into the bathroom in the middle of a night party”, the main offender didn’t even try to hide a mischievous grin. “Need any help with knocking him out?”

Robin gave him a warning frown, “You rocked the boat enough”. Her serious poker face broke a bit and even Zoro didn’t want to see her really pissed.

“I’ll carry him to the quarters then”, he proposed almost apologetically and rushed down the stairs.

“You better watch yourself; you are wasted and…” Zoro didn’t even let Nico Robin end her sentence as he slipped and drove down the stairs on his ass.

Law just groaned and facepalmed, “Now you know why I don’t let my people drink, Nico-ya”.

When later asked by Chopper how on Earth he got splinters in his butt cheeks, Zoro honestly couldn’t remember anything and Robin, when asked, just made a weird face, suggesting she wouldn’t answer any questions even under torture. So no one asked, including Sanji who’s memories ended very vaguely on seeing something weird in the bathroom. But when you live on the one ship with a living skeleton, humanized reindeer and a dude made of rubber, you quickly learn to exclude the word ‘weird’ from your dictionary.

The barrel of sauerkraut became the only victim of the night. It got ejected into the back of the storeroom and covered with a few layers of rugs. For some unknown reason, Sanji developed a strong disgust towards its smell and taste.

“I would rather die on scurvy than touch this shit”, he claimed, much to Luffy’s happiness.

[gingerwritess]

hmmmm another concept: "what is this?" "it's Valentine's day" "disgusting"

happy valentine’s day to you lovely, lovely people. thanks for making the world a little brighter!!

let’s make loki blush, shall we?

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

“Hey Loki, wanna kiss?”

“Mmm.” Not looking up from his book, he leans over to you a little and purses his lips, clearly waiting for the kiss to come.

You bite back your laugh and unwrap the little chocolate, holding it in front of his face. He blinks and finally looks at you, squinting in confusion but taking the chocolate, inspecting it between two fingers. “And what is this supposed to be?”

What a sad, sad thing to think, someone you care for so much not even knowing what a Hershey’s Kiss is. You unwrap your own candy and pop it in your mouth. “It’s a kiss!”

There’s no mistaking the obvious disappointment on his face and he takes a tentative bite. “Shame on you. You got my hopes up.”

“Oh, you weren’t…were you hoping for a real kiss?”

He swallows and shakes his head, ardently refusing to admit that he was, in fact, hoping you would kiss him, and you catch a glimpse of his cheeks flushing pink as he buries his nose behind the book again.

What an idiot.

What an adorable idiot.

You grab the book from his hands and toss it across the room, smushing your lips to his cheek and throwing your arms around his neck. “I live to disappoint,” you giggle as he nearly falls over from the force of your hug. “Now I’ve got something else for you. Close your eyes.”

Loki raises a suspicious eyebrow. “Is my safety ensured?”

“Definitely not. Come on, eyes closed!”

He sighs and closes his eyes, holding a ready hand out to you just in case. A grin spreads over your face as you reach behind your back and pull out a stack of letters that you’ve been writing to him over the past couple months, all tied neatly together with a piece of twine, placing them in his open hand. “Okay, open your eyes.”

He winces automatically, expecting the worst, then breathes out in relief when he sees its only letters that you’ve put in his hand. “And what is this?”

“Love letters! Really sappy love letters,” you grin, pushing them towards him when he blanches. “Super gushy and full of reasons why I love you, and the stupidly adorable little things you do that make my heart pound, and a very detailed description of your eyes, and your smile, and your kiss—”

Loki’s cheeks are burning red as he lightly smacks you on the top of your head with the stack of letters. “Norns, mortal, do you ever stop?”

“Nope!” You scrunch up your nose in the biggest “sorry not sorry” grin you can manage, then pull the next gift from behind your back.

“Roses?!”

Already laughing, you shove the overflowing bouquet in his face before he can escape and he scrambles away from you, blushing like a fumbling teenager. The poor guy is beyond confused, well beyond flustered, and you haven’t even gotten to the lacy part of the gift yet.

“Stop, darling, please! What in the name of Valhalla are you doing?” He jumps off the couch, throwing his arms up to shield his face, cause you just started picking individual roses out of the bouquet and actually throwing them at him.

“Showering you with love? Can you just take the flowers? And my affection?” You toss the whole bouquet at him and luckily he catches it, a dopey grin growing uncontrollably over his face. “Pleeeease?”

Now the god is standing there amidst a scattering of roses holding a bouquet bigger than his whole top half, his face brighter red than a tomato and desperately trying to hide the smile tugging at his lips—he certainly looks far from kingly, godly, or anything regal—for once, he just looks…well, loved.

Mmhm, you did that.

“Tell me right now what is going on.” He tosses the flowers on the couch and crosses his arms, half-heartedly glaring down at you. Ignoring him, you just raise your eyebrows and smile innocently, going back to the pile of gifts you have yet to give him.

“Let’s see, here’s something fun for later…” you hold up the lacy and slightly more R-rated part of the gift, a tiny little black thing with gold trimmings, and Loki somehow turns an even brighter shade of red.

“Good gods above. Who are you?”

Out comes a box of dark chocolate covered strawberries. “We’re gonna feed these to each other, m’kay?”

He makes a strangled, shocked noise and gapes at you.

“And this,” you hold up a huge bottle of whiskey. “This is for our bath tonight.”

“Our bath?” He croaks weakly, running a hand over his flustered face.

“Mmhm. And these are for after.” You grin and toss him a pair of metal handcuffs—mostly a joke gift, cause you know he would certainly never need actual handcuffs in the bedroom—but worth every penny to see how his jaw practically drops to the floor when he snags them out of the air and he loses the ability to form a coherent sentence.

“You—these are…you want—what?” He’s blubbering like the idiot in love that he is, and your giddy laughter definitely isn’t helping. Raking a hand through his hair, he takes a deep breath and tucks the handcuffs in the pocket of his sweatpants. “Okay, you have ten seconds to explain what has gotten into you before I take matters into my own hands.”

Well, he walked himself right into that one. You sidle up in front of him and run your hands up his chest, murmuring “mmm, that sounds good to me, my king…”

“Have you been bitten?” Loki puts his hands on your shoulders and pushes you away to hold you at arm’s length, examining you and still red in the face. “Are you feeling ill?”

You stick out your tongue at him. “Yes, ya dingbat, I’ve got a bad case of feelings for your lonely ass.”

“…I despise you.”

“And you’re full of shit. You gonna kiss me now?”

“Naturally.” He rolls his eyes and grabs your waist, pulling you into a mind-numbing kiss and practically bending you backward with the force of it.

“There,” he pants when the annoying need to breathe breaks the two of you apart. “You got what you wanted, now explain yourself.”

“I looove you, doofus.”

“Yes, you’ve mentioned, but why all the gifts? Why this?” He grimaces and gingerly picks up a rose in two fingers. “And this?” He gestures wildly at the gifts strewn about the room, then yanks the handcuffs from his pocket and shakes them in your face. “And these?! Darling, what is this?”

You spread your arms proudly. “It’s Valentine’s Day! Literally a whole day that we get to devote to loving each other—basically like every other day, but this one is a little more special.”

“Disgusting,” he retches dramatically and you cannot roll your eyes any harder. “So much…affection.”

“Loki, you little liar. That’s complete and utter bullshit and you know it.” You walk two fingers up his chest to give him a good boop on the nose, much to his horror. “You love when I cuddle with you, you love when I kiss you, you love being the little spoon—yeah, of course I know that! You ain’t slick!—you’re still blushing, you cute little greasy—”

His lips are on yours before you can say another word. In a matter of seconds, he’s got you stumbling backward in search of something he can brace you against, his hand already tucked under your left thigh to lift it up and around his waist, and he’s desperately trying to quiet your only-growing laughter with an avalanche of kisses.

“Shut up,” he growls, only making you laugh harder. “Stop laughing!” He lunges forward again to smash his lips to yours, but you’re laughing too much and his teeth just ram into yours with a loud clink.

“Ow!” Clapping a hand over your mouth, you shove him lightly to get him to pause his attacks. “Geez, Loki, this is great, but chill for just a sec, would ya?”

He’s immediately all over you, inspecting your face for injuries and apologising over and over until you kiss him again just to get him to stop saying sorry.

“Sorry,” he mumbles once more against your lips, hands starting to wander. “Hold on. Don’t we have things to do?”

“Huh?”

Loki pulls away with a pop, a devious spark starting to gleam in his eyes. “This…‘valentine’s day.’ We have to celebrate, right?” He turns on his heel and starts gathering your gifts, making a big show of slipping the lingerie in his pocket as well. “And I believe some of the festivities included fruit, alcohol, and correct me if I’m wrong, scarce clothing?”

You grab his wrist and start excitedly tugging him down the hall, heart already pounding at the prospect of celebrating Valentine’s Day, like, for real.

“Couldn’t have said it better myself, babe. We’ve got work to do.”

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

hope you enjoyed, feel free to send me ideas!

loki tags: @bluediamond007 @himitoshi @drakesfiance @destiel1597 @dangertoozmanykids101 @archy3001 @jcalpha1 @yzssie @skullvieplu @forthesnakeofdragons @skulliebythesea @wegingerangelica @storiesfrommirkwood @agarwaeneth @adaliamalfoy @laurfangirl424 @paradisaicsam @fitzsimmons-is-forever @ladylokimischief @katelinwrites @tarynkauai @polaristrange @loavesofmeat @canadian-ravenpuff-multishipper @lou-makes-me-strong @holyn0vak @chocolatealmondmillk @swtnrholland @kenzieam @jessiejunebug @catticas @the-republic-and-face-of-texas @doralupin01 @whitewitchdown @atomiccharmer @falconfeather23435 @babygirlicecream

[eye-raq]

Below.

This is an entry for the With Love, From Wakanda Valentines writing prompts.

Prompt: That’s it. No more wine, ever.

Warnings: Fluff.

Summary: Directly below her, an intriguing man she’d grown to befriend gives her company on Valentines Day.

“Breathe Lola, it’s just roses.”

It was a warm day in San Fran, just one day before Valentine’s. Lola Duvall climbed the stairs to her apartment on the seventh floor, the nursing shoes on her feet feeling like bricks. She had a long day in the ER for twelve hours straight, registering outpatients of different statures. Her belly growled, making her motions a lot faster as she finally made it to her door. She placed the roses from her mail slot in the crook of her arm, unlocking her tattered apartment door.

The first thing that hit her was the AC, and the smell of old burning inscense. Lola places her key on its designated hook along with her work bag full of nothing but old papers, ink pens, and crumbled up granola bars. Next were the bricks on her feet. She kicked them off quickly, wiggling her toes. The tips were chipped from a quick boring paint job the other day, the white not so flattering anymore.

“Bills, bills, bank statement, magazine I’ll never read.”

Lola places the roses on her living room table, mentally reminding herself to put them in a vase. She assumed they could be from an old flame? Maybe one of her good girl friends showing her love. Whoever it was the roses were beautiful. Lola walked towards her window seat, pulling her phone from her back pocket, spotting nothing new. She lets out an exasperated breath, eyes studying the skyline of San Fran. Scratching at her curly bun, Lola brought her attention back to her mail, only a few trash worthy envelopes in her hand.

“Baby shower invite, oh, how nice.” She smiles at the pretty gold script. Her long time best friend since childhood, Jacqueline, was having twins. Lola hadn’t the opportunity to go shopping for her, but she had a few items in mind. Flipping through a couple more times, Lola pauses over a single red envelope no bigger than the rest. It was embroidered from what it felt like against her fingertips, a simple gold sticker holding the flap down. The front was blank, the anonymous piece of paper making her mind wander.

Lola glanced over at the roses on the table, her eyes dancing from her hand and back at the smooth dark oak. So it was most definitely an ex, or maybe... a secret admirer? Whoever it was, she couldn’t help but to smile. Lola was a chill girl, strikingly beautiful yes, but not an IT girl. She liked the little security she had, it added to the mystery that men had about her. She was a sucker for secret notes and letters, this entire thing reminding her briefly about high school and the Secret Valentine’s they would do with a small mesh bag filled with smarties that read out cute little messages.

Your so cute!

Just wanted to say I adore you

Xoxoxo

Be mine?

Hugs!

Flirty!

“Catching eyes, Lola?” She spoke, finally taking her squared pedicured French tip to rip a clean slit in the back. Inside was a perfectly folded piece of paper, one that looked to be ripped out of a journal. Dropping the envelope down, hearing it slip between her heater, she unfolded the thin piece of paper, adjusting her cat eye red frames before reading it.

I made love to her on paper. And spilled ink like passion across the sheets. I caressed her curves in every love letter. I kissed up and down her thighs in short sentences and prose. I tasted all of her innocence, without a spoken word. I bit her lip and pulled her hair in between the lines. I made her arch her back and scream, it only took a pen.

Her feeble fingers.

Lola’s brown eyes read over the cursive with a new interest each time. She yearned for the culprit. Who would send her such a lulling yet steamy, sexy, well though out poem? The tips of her nails brushed against the back of her neck, causing the short curls to fall from her bun. Just a day before Valentine’s? Lola was imprisoned in her thoughts, her mind trying to piece together the clues like a thousand piece puzzle. Lola studied the paper and noticed a smudged stained finger print in the corner. Bringing it closer to her face, she studied it, before sniffing it with caution.

“Chocolate?” Whoever wrote this must have been munching on Hershey kisses. Thank God it wasn’t some horrid unhygienic stain. After letting out a content smile with her mind still focused on her poem, she went to pick up her roses, ready to give them a new home. Just a single slender vase that her mother gave her sat on her kitchen counter directly in front of the tiny window. The poem sat open directly next to it, her eyes scanning the lines that had her knees weak. She could lean over that counter and stare at that piece of paper for hours, but it was going on seven o’clock and she needed some food and rest. Kissing her fingers lightly, Lola places them against the poem, a soft smile gracing her heart shaped lips before walking away.

Freshly showered and enjoying her usual spot outside on her personal balcony that was attached to the fire escape, Lola took small sips of the aged wine that was gifted to her for her 30th birthday. It was Armand de Brignac Rosé. Rich bouquet of red fruits gave the pink champagne a fresh full bodied feeling on the palate, lingering and complex. She placed the glass between her legs, adjusting her head wrap before hearing the familiar sound of balcony doors opening and the sound of boots hitting the metal surface.

It was him

Her Below.

He was quiet, definitely a loner, and stylish. Lola could talk his ear off again. She enjoyed his voice and admired his handsome features. Lola lifts softly from the ground, leaning over the railing to find him smoking with his back against the doors to his balcony and his knees drawn toward his chest with his forearms draping over them. He looked just as perfect as always. His dreads braided back, a pair of gold rimmed glasses on his face, black sweats with a white tee, and Doc Marten’s on his feet.

“Mind if I tell you about my day?” Lola seemed to have startled him, but as soon as his eyes looked towards hers, a simple yet genuine smile graced his lips.

“You know I love it when you talk to me, Lola.”

Erik puts out his weed against one of the rails of his balcony, placing it inside of his pocket before ascending the stairs to her level. With each step he took, his eyes never left hers and his lips remained in a permanent smirk.

“You look like you had a long ass day girl.” He leans against the railing directly next to her, his arms folded over his broad chest.

“Stressful AND long...you know how my work days normally are, I talk your ear off about it all the time.”

Erik shrugs, eyes lingering to the floor of the balcony, noticing her glass of wine.

“All I do is sit around my apartment, and write all damn day.” Erik yawns, before reaching for her glass.

Lola knew about Erik being a writer, but she didn’t know what kind of writer. He was pretty mysterious when it came to his personal life and day to day activities.

“So, uh...what do you write, exactly?” Erik brings his nose to her wine glass, taking a tentative sip before smacking his lips.

“This is some tart ass wine.” That didn’t stop him from taking another sip. Lola admired the way his full bottom lip would hang over the edge of her glass, the hot air from his nose fogging it. When he removed the glass from his lips, he would lick at the corners of his mouth, dimples deep. He was really something.

“You’re gonna tell me what you write about?”

Erik gave her a look, his eye brows shooting up with a crease of his forehead.

“I guess it’s fare that I share it, right?” Lola nodded her head in agreement, accepting her half empty glass of wine and taking a sip herself.

“I write erotica.”

The burn of the wine hitting the back of her throat caused her to cough faintly, a hand to her mouth and an uncomfortable crease in her brow. Erik couldn’t help the smile that fought to surface, shaking his head at her.

“Erotica you say?” She liked Erotica, literature or art intended to arouse sexual desire.

“I got your attention huh?” He teased her, licking his lips.

“Yeah, I’m not going to lie you did.” She reaches down to pick up her wine bottle, adding more to her glass, not so much to drink but more so to have something to do. Erik could be intimidating, and she didn’t want to come off as desperate while standing next to that beautiful man.

“Why write about sex?” His eyes glinted, the corners of his mouth quirking up.

“You sure you wanna turn up the heat Lola?”

Oh boy. What was she getting herself into tonight. She bit her lip in thought, her finger swirling around the rim of her glass.

“I’m curious, feed my curiosity Stevens.” He gave her a coy smile before clearing his throat to speak.

“I write to fuck with your brain, your heart, your morals, and your sense of self. Lust, love, desire, denial, boundaries, pain, pleasure...”

“So, it’s not about the sex, it’s about what reaction you get from it?” Lola could feel the wine doing its job, her movements becoming more loose with a blithe expression.

“I like to see how my words imprint on a women when they read my shit.” Erik fixed her with a gaze.

In that moment, Lola wanted to descend those stairs to his place, and pick through his writing. She imagined he had mountains of papers littering his desk with a lone type writer sitting in the corner. Maybe he even had piles of books for reference and some of his own work. His articulate nature was very sexy.

“I bet your words have an enormous effect.” Lola could feel his eyes on her, attempting to focus on drinking her wine rather than take in his sanguine eyes.

“They do. You wanna find out?” Erik pulls his phone from his back pocket, scrolling and typing. Her wary gaze traveled to his fingers, admiring how thick they were. She wondered how they looked holding a pen, or maybe even her hips? Taking a look at her wine glass, she suspected all of these thoughts were because of the tart alcohol. Her skin felt ignited and her lips extra moist from the assault of her tongue.

“Okay, Princess. Here is something I’ve been working on for a bit. Tell me what you think, aight?”

“Alright, I’ll be your critic.” She took his phone gently.

“Don’t be afraid to tell me if my shit is bad.” He gave her a leering gaze, one that already answered the questions in her head about how freaky this writing could be. Lola’s eyes finally fixed on his phone, shutting him out momentarily.

Turn around, and give me the perfect angle, the perfect silhouette. Let my eyes admire the pretty brown flesh with your delicate pedals peaking at me from behind, my staggering hands reaching under the bridge of your body to cup your breasts. Fuck abandonment, I wanna devour that flower from the back and shock your round flesh with my overworked hands while you stroke that slit on my aching tongue. Let me feel you shower me with that honey and shake under my assault. Grind me, feed me, suffocate me, while you moan and whisper a yess. Look back at me princess with those beautiful eyes and a nibble of your lips. Look back at me and instruct me, tell me what to do and how to do it. I want you immobile. Take my gift like the good girl you are. My soft lips, my wet tongue, my thick fingers. I need to explore you. Tell me where you like my tongue and how you want me to dip it. Is the texture just right? Am I being greedy with every satisfying stroke and flick? You’re breathtaking and I’m dangerous. Your delicate and I’m primal. It’s safe to say I delve into your deepest and tightest spot, claiming what’s mine with each invasion. Coax me further and yearn for the feeling, we got all night.

Panting, sighing, struggling to keep it together, Lola finally ends where he stopped. She hadn’t realized that her glass was empty again, and hadn’t noticed the grip she placed on his arm to keep her steady. Erik’s fingers sooth her back, the service alone feeding her wonder. She couldn’t even form words, her eyes blinking and her tipsy movements fighting with her.

“That was..”

“Forbidden territory?” He chuckles deep within his chest, his frame much closer than before.

“I don’t care, I’ll trespass.” She giggles nervously.

“Oh for real?” He said that deeply. “Tell me when and I’ll let you in. I’m just below you, Lola.”

“Are...are you flirting with me?” She trailed her hazy eyes down his frame. His stance definitely changed, he was practically looming over her like he was her personal shade to cool her off, and his face was gratifyingly close to hers.

“Is that a fucking problem?” He rumbled.

“Nah. I-I’m just...” Lola was on the brink of wrapping her legs around this man’s waist.

“Good, cuz we don’t need one unless it’s a problem you want me to fix?” Lola’s creamy brown skin grazed his bare arm, electrifying her. So apparently Erik has a thing for her. Lola thought back to the rose and letter from her secret admirer, wondering if it wasn’t a secret any longer...

“E...” she closes her eyes, flicking her lips with her tongue. This wine...

“What’s your plans for Valentine’s?” He cut her off suddenly.

“Nothing... it’s not like I have anything to look forward to.”

“Why don’t I keep you company? I would hate for you to be lonely.” The shock she felt had her insistent. Erik’s bold, brash behavior surfaced.

“So does that mean you can give me something to look forward to?” Her soft voice trailed off.

He licked at those lips, his fiery gaze strong and withholding. It was definitely clear from the signs that Erik was responsible for sending her the valentines surprise. Your mind traveled back to those words and the way he described the capabilities of that tongue of his. How was his erotic writing on the same level of his actions? She truly wanted to know. Why the hell not? What was the harm in being his naked demonstration? The chemistry was clearly there.

“That’s it Lola. No more wine, ever.” She let out a graceful laugh before batting her lashes at him.

“I like this Lola though, she’s bold. I’d love to tame that ass.” Erik brushes her cheek with his knuckle.

“Was that what you had in mind when you wrote that sexy little poem Erik?” He didn’t hide or deny anything, he just trapped her between him and that railing, his breath tickling her cheek.

“I got a lot of shit in mind. We got all fucking night into tomorrow, and yes I can go for that long ain’t no problem for me.”

Sex with Erik. It could be right where they stood, or on the floor in his apartment. Either way...Lola wanted to sample this man to see what she’d been missing. She wanted the opportunity to settle below him this time, but with her legs over his shoulders and his dick buried deep inside of her.

“Words Lola. You have a mouth, use that shit.” The scent of his breath was definitely that of chocolate. His hands delicately gripped at her neck, trailing down her chest and to her hips. Erik could definitely feel her heart beating through her clothes.

“I want you to show me, let it take all night if it has to.”

The friction of his hands on her hips increased as he lifted her up with ease, her legs wrapping around him swiftly. Her secret admirer walked down those stairs with her entangled within his embrace, her arms around his neck and his lips attacking her neck. This definitely had to be his plan. He smoothed his way into getting a chance with Lola, and now he had to ease her delicate body into the rough, frantic, scorching sex they were about to have.

@panthergoddessbast @whorderofthepheonix @whoramilaje @vikkidc @allhailnjadaka @bakaris-shorty @trevantesbrat @hoopshoney @princessstevens @thehomierobbstark @destinio1 @loosewindmill @janelledarling @scrumptiouslytenaciouscrusade @halcyonscry @wawakanda-btch @hidden-treasures21 @heyauntieeee @eriknutinthispoosy @hearteyes-for-killmonger @forbeautyandlife @killmonger-dolan @killmongersaidheyauntie @killmongersgurl @killmongerdispussy @erikslulbaby @shookmcgookqueen @jozigrrl @madamslayyy @calitexastrillgoddess @unfriendly-blk-hottie @drsunshine97 @youreadthatright @deja-r @lucidaquarian @wakanda-inspired @softnani @iamrheaspeaks @chaneajoyyy @supersizemeplz @laketaj24 @bartierbakarimobisson

[boogiewrites]

Reports and Repertoire Pt. 2

Characters: Eddie Brock x Candace Miller (OFC)

Word Count:  7800+

Summary: Eddie and Candace meet face to face. Agreeing to work together, they find themselves falling into an easy back and forth with each other given their similarities in morals and interests. This chapter follows the beginning stages of their relationship, figuring each other out and working together. A clear chemistry builds between them, and neither put very much thought into where it will go. Not yet anyway.

Warnings/Tags: Language.Fluffy, getting to know you.

Positive feedback is MUCH appreciated! Reblogs, likes, asks and comments feed me to write more! Let me know if you’d like tagged in my work.

My Masterlist.

It's only a few minutes until her office hours are over. Candace is in the ladies bathroom with the best lighting, touching up her hair and makeup before catching an uber to a part of town she's familiar with. She volunteered at a homeless shelter in the area, a particular cause she'd felt drawn to once she moved to San Francisco. She'd taken people to eat on more than a few occasions, some frequenters of the shelter becoming friends, some acting as extra eyes and ears for her in the city.

What she'd been working on, and what she would be sharing with Eddie in about an hour was about these people. She straightens her white v-neck t-shirt over her fitted jeans. Boots to guard against the off and on all day rain are now resting under rolled-up hems of her pants, the slightly heeled black faux-suede looking a bit more put together this way. Digging through her purse she finds some lipstick and a necklace that she adds to the outfit. Her medium brown hair is in loose waves, luckily it was cooperating with the weather today and not frizzing completely. Her hip length, lightweight army green jacket with its many pockets and hood rests on the dark speckled bathroom sink counter as she tries to spruce herself up a bit. She didn't look fancy, but this didn't call for that. She looked...yeah she looked normal she concluded with an approving nod, letting her arms fall heavy to her sides as she rolls her eyes with getting caught up on how she looks. 'But you know he'll look good.' her inner voice says as she raises her eyebrows to herself in the mirror as to scold the thought. She looked good, she looked like she was grabbing some casual meal with a friend, and except for the friend part, which she hoped would change eventually, she was hitting the mark for what was needed.

She adjusts the grey faux leather crossbody bag on her shoulder as she stands fifteen minutes early in front of the pizza place. Her finger picks at the large press button on the front flap on her bag before she pulls her phone out of her pocket. She watches the mixed bag of locals, being too far inland for tourists in this part of town. There was a breeze as usual, the rain had cleared for now, the cracked concrete still damp.

"I'm here. I don't think he'll try to murder me so...just letting you know." she sends to Steph.

"If you go missing I'll know who to blame. Have fun. ;) " Candace smirks rolls her eyes, putting her phone back into her pocket. After growing tired of standing in the constant flow of people on the street, she decides to go in and get a table outside before the rush comes. If she waited too long, they'd be stuck inside where it was too hot and loud, she could watch for him from the covered patio.

Getting a small two-seater table on the edge of the awning she scrolls through her phone to recall details of what she'd been working on. The white noise of the city is disrupted by the rumbling of a motorcycle coming to a stop down the street. Her fingers that had been absentmindedly tapping her chin pause as she watches the man remove his helmet, revealing a handsome, familiar face. She figures if she's going to oogle, now would be the time to as she takes in the tightness in the thighs of his dark jeans, the neutral colored sneakers that complimented a dark t-shirt underneath a black leather moto jacket.

He ruffled the longer hair at the top of his head as he puts the helmet in the saddle bag of the bike. He adjusts the collar of the jacket, giving it a fluff before thumbing his nose and with a distinctly masculine, shoulder swaying saunter, he crosses the street. As he gets closer she puts her phone face down on the glass table top, instead of its usual place of the pocket of her coat that hung over the back of the chair, as it would be needed it to show him photos and give him names and addresses. He looks a little tired, a little shabby, but it still works with the whole vibe after coming in on a motorcycle. He looked more like a bad boy with a devil may care attitude than the journalist she'd watched that passionately defended the rights of others. As soon as his feet hit the curb her body reacts and stands and he looks around, it only takes him a moment to recognize her from her pictures and he's thankful she seems just as personable and dare he think even prettier in person. He gives a head tilt and a questions glance of 'that you?' much like a puppy, a pointed finger accompanying the expression.

Her appearance puts him at ease, he'd worried about a t-shirt and jeans coming off as this not being important to him but when he saw the same combination on her, although wearing it in a much more flattering, feminine way, he hides his exhale of relief as he approaches. With his hands still in his pockets, he nods and mutters 'excuse me' to people on the street as he's beckoned by her wave to him. His manners do not go unnoticed by Candace's watchful eye.

So she stands, two feet away from Eddie Brock. Inside her, a part of her was squealing with delight. He was just as attractive as he looked on the screen, well, actually more so once he opened his mouth. Instead of the more articulate and annunciated, projected masculine tone, she was used to hearing from him, his voice was quiet and raspy, a twitch of his lip and a slight stutter shows his uncertainty as he says her name.

"Hey, uh-Candace. Hi." he says with a nod of his head.

Her hand extends to meet his, a slight squeeze to test the waters between the two of them, she notices he wears rings, notes the typical finger an engagement ring would be on to be bare and she wonders how she never noticed the jewelry before on camera.

"Hey Eddie," she says in a sweet, smooth voice. Her voice was softer in person, a small hint of a smile stayed on her face as their hands shook before she motions to the chair across the table from her. "Thanks for meeting me on such short notice."

"Nah, don't mention it. Thank you for meeting me. You're the one helpin' me out." he says with a half smile and a much heavier New York accent.

"You've exposed serial killers and I write pieces on local bakeries trying to make the world's biggest cookie I think I'm the one indebted to you." she says with a full smile, a chuckle that shakes her shoulders slightly, the long silver necklace with a tiny looking glass pendant shakes and shifts over her chest.

"Ehh." he says dismissively in a dragging way. Before he can compliment her work, both trying to feel each other out. the waiter brings the menus. "Oh, thank you." he says in a genuine way, making eye contact and nodding in acknowledgment to the woman. He'd passed the first test, being nice to the staff. Look's like Eddie Brock acting like a dick wouldn't be a problem she'd have to navigate.

"You wanna split a pizza?" she asks casually, eyes on the menu.

"Yeah, sure." he shrugs, his head nodding in a show of cooperation.

"The Margherita is good. Classic. Can't really go wrong with it." her finger taps the menu and she purses her lips.

"Sounds good." he says, looking back up at her, watching her face.

"But the real question I suppose is where do you stand on pineapple on pizza?" she subdues a smile as he realizes she's making comedic banter to clear the air.

"Oh, I don't care either way. Pineapple's good, pizza's good, who cares?" he says with a purse of his lips.

"A lot of people. Surprisingly." she shuts the menu and he sees her shoulders relax. "Perhaps we should do a report on the oppression of fruit on pizza. Get to the bottom of that conspiracy." her brows are high and her face is warm and friendly and it eases any jitters that were left.

"Gotta be careful. Who knows which fruit is behind the takedown of pineapple. Don't wanna end up messin' with "big cherry" or somethin', they're nasty people." he grins and they both share a laugh.

With the tension broken they both fall into an easy back and forth. After ordering they cover the basics, talk about beer, about the city and each other. As the steaming pizza is placed on the pedestal in the middle of the table, he decides to start to talk shop after as they mumble with mouthfuls about how they made a good decision.

"So I've noticed you have a lot of pieces about the homeless population in the city." he says as she finishes taking an indulgent bite of gooey cheese.

A muffled "Mmm Hmm." before she swallows and nods enthusiastically. "Yeah, I volunteer at a shelter a few blocks down." she motions behind her with her thumb out. "When I first moved here I had nothing, and I mean, here it's just a few bad decisions and you'll find yourself homeless at any given time," she says with a slight frown. "But I know you've done lots of coverage too. So you're familiar with how the causes of being out on the street. From simple bad decisions, things totally out of their control, to more complex problems like mental health or the young LGBT community, veterans with PTSD that our system has failed." she pauses for a moment and sighs. "I mean I've met every sort of person working at that shelter. And none of them bad." she shows a sad smile that says a lot on it's own. He gives a small upturning of one side of his mouth in support of the notion. Her face is more serious now, she meets his eyes and he sees that spark that caught his attention in the first place. "I know I can't fix everything. But people are all people have." she bites her lip for a moment, looking down. "So I figured I would try to focus my efforts and I was drawn to this one specifically." her voice is quieter, he leans forward to hear her better in the bustle of the restaurant and street. "I figure starting with trying to give people the basic things they need to survive is a good start. Shelter, food, clothing, care. A little bit of kindness can go a long way. Especially to someone who isn't used to receiving it."

"Yeah it's...it's very important to know where your passion lies. And y'know, I can tell you're passionate about this, it's a big reason I wanted to work with you." he admits.

"Thanks," she says with a sincere huff of breath. "What's your passion then? What've you been working on?" she asks innocently enough.

Oh shit, here we go, he thinks. Here's where he tells her the truth and she leaves and he's back to square one. "Uh well, nothing as of late." he admits his nose wrinkles slightly as she tilts her head, showing the confusion on her face.

"I noticed you hadn't been uploading anything but, I thought you might've been working on something big." her brow is heavier, wanting to know more without being rude.

He lets out a sigh and licks his lips, leaning forward on the table on his elbows. "I'll be honest with you Candace." he begins, finding holding her gaze easier than he expected. "I made an enemy out of a very powerful man by asking the wrong things in an interview trying to get to the truth." his voice is more steady, a little deeper and self-assured than it had been earlier in the night. "I went for it and he blacklisted me a few months back." he says with a slow nod, lips tucked into his mouth.

"Oh." she says with wide batting eyes. So THAT'S why he'd reached out to her. It was starting to make sense now. “Can I ask who?” she adds softly. 

It was a perfectly logical follow-up question. "Carlton Drake." he says with a frown.

"Oh shit," she whispers, her chin pushing into her chest. "That's...yeah I bet that guy has a lot of secrets." she says looking away, he could see the wheels turning in her head.

"I get it if you don't wanna work with me now, Candace I do-" he begins with slumped shoulders.

"No!" she insists, her brow heavy and a shake of her head. Her hand reaches out unexpectedly and rests on top of his. The sudden touch makes his face turns towards their hands a little too quickly to go unnoticed. "No that's...that's not fair," she says quietly. "What kind of asshole would I be if I'm preaching kindness one breath and then turning you away the next?" with one brow raised she retreats her hand. "I mean that's...that's heavy man. Not going to lie. But, I get it." her voice is slow and low, thoughtful and far nicer than he ever expected. "It's hard to know where to draw the line when trying to expose something that doesn't want to be exposed. Especially when it's covered by a man with a far reach and deep pockets like Drake." she shrugs, giving a closed mouth, sympathetic smile.

"Yeah. It was." he says with a slight snarl of his lip and a flash of sadness in his eyes.

"Even if we can get what we'd need to make an expose' and get a station to buy it, it's not gonna be the sort of money you're used to. I'm afraid I don't have anything that would bring that much attention."

"Those sorts of stories are really rare, I wasn't expectin' nothin' like that." he shakes his head. "I just miss the work. Y'know?" his nose wrinkles slightly in earnest.

"Yeah, I'd feel lost if I suddenly couldn't work anymore. But then again my eyes and ears are mostly homeless people so...not a high chance of that happening. Guess that's smart looking out on my behalf." she gives him a supportive smile.

"Not the most credible witnesses in some people eye's but, you're right about that. You seem to utilize your resources that you have really well."

"Having you help me will make it more credible I think, blacklisted or not. You can't have sources, video evidence, and eyewitnesses and be ignored by everyone forever."

"You already have those things?" his voice inflects upwards, sounding impressed.

"No." she frowns for a moment. "But I do know how we can get them." her smiles turns sly and it's infectious. "Here," she says, picking up her phone, scooting her chair closer to him and he meets her halfway. They sit arm to arm as she flips through her phone. "I've got a bunch of notes I can send you. Some audio recordings from witnesses and victims too. I'll send you these address and names..." she continues her thumb moving fast. "Apparently the police have been targeting certain homeless camps. They'll go in, push people around and make them fight to not get taken to jail over bullshit charges."

He nods as his eyes move over her picture of a map with doodled on circles and notes of locations and dates. "These are instances?"

"Yeah. I have all the names of the people I've talked to, of course, all but a few come to the shelter, so most aren't hard to find and they're more than willing to talk to someone who will listen. The problem is getting it on video. I need structured, on-camera interviews. I need written and signed witness statements and those people preferably need to be able to appear in court or at least appear reliable in some way if this does go to a legal level. I need to get it on video, pictures too of course but nothing is going to sell this like video will. And being in the right place on the right night is really tricky as I've found no real pattern between where they go and when."

"You've been working on this awhile haven't you?" he says with an impressed tone, seeing the dates go back for months.

"Yeah. Those that can remember, I have the dates of arrest and the charges they were filed with...have their mug shots saved from the booking website to document injuries, which there certainly are." she moves her face to look to his not even a foot away. "My personal problem is it's not safe for me to go to these camps alone at night. I've wanted to go deeper on this for a while now but I have to be smart about it. I won't be of use to anyone if I'm in jail or in a hospital." she explains with a pouty frown.

"You're definitely right about that." he nods, wishing he had her sense of patience and self-preservation.

"That's where I thought you might come in." she smiles sheepishly. "I thought maybe if we both went...maybe we would be okay."

"Man...it's been so long since I've done work like this." he almost whispers, face showing his consideration.

"I mean, I get it if you don't want to, it's dangerous so I'd understand if you didn't want to do it."

"Oh, no Candance, I definitely want to. Didn't mean to come off like I was gonna say no."

"Oh thank God." she exhales with a laugh. "I don't have anyone else to help me with this. We can go to the shelter and I can introduce you so they'll know who you are. That way there won't be any confusion. We'll take all the precautions we can. But getting video of a cop not only isolating them but threatening them AND making them fight then taking them in..." she shakes her head with a tired look on her face. "That's gonna take a lot of nights out there, and it'll just get more dangerous each time if the cops get wind of what we're doing."

"You're not wrong there." the same supportive nod. "But the reward would be worth the risk." he says with a gravelly tone and shrug. "I mean, this is a direct, unprovoked attack on at-risk people. Doesn't get much lower than that."

"It's been bothering me, honestly. I try to compartmentalize this sort of work but it's hard when you get to know these people."

"Yeah." his voice soft and higher pitched. "I understand that too well."

"I was really hoping you would." he notices how breathy her voice sounds so close. She sounded so genuinely relieved that he would help her, when she's the one helping him in his opinion. He gets caught up in that fire in her eyes again, seeing now the yellow flecks that exist in the pools of brown.

The waitress interrupts with the check and they both snap upright.

"What's your email? I'll send you all this and the rest tonight." she says, thumbs already moving.

"Oh, it's easy just eddiebrock at Gmail." he shakes his head dismissively.

"Keep it simple. I like it." she smiles and nods, noting it anyway. She moves and reaches for her wallet as he's already reached for his. "Nope. Put it away Eddie, I invited you out, I got it." she insists.

"You not even gonna let me pay for my own?" he asks with a high pitched boyish laugh.

"Nope. We could've met somewhere without food and I brought you out here and I'm not gonna have you spend money just because I was hungry." she says with a shake of her head, standing and placing the small booklet back on the table.

"Well maybe I was hungry too." he says playfully.

"Either way, I'm really grateful for the help so stop fighting me. You won't win." she grins and an almost goofy smile comes across his face.

"Whatever you say." he says with a firm nod and a charming smile.

They both stand at the curb, the sun having set, the neon lights from building signs now playing across the still wet splotches on the asphalt and making the oil rainbows shine across the road.

"Hey," he says to get her attention, one hand in his pocket, the other motioning towards his bike. "If you won't let me buy my own dinner, how about I save you the cost of a ride and I can take you home?" his voice was chivalrous and not suggestive.

He sees her considering it, thumb hovering over the lit up screen, lip twitching as she looked over to the bike. "I don't want you to have to go too far out of your way or anything." she says with a shake of her head.

"Don't be ridiculous. It's the least I can do. Where do you live?"

"In the mission district." she says softly, noticing the scruff of his face as his hand rubbed his chin.

"That's in the middle of everything, what're you talkin' about out the way?" he says with a charming laugh that moves his chest. He notices the smile grow from a twitch at the corner of her mouth to a full smile up to her eyes. "Unless you know..." he smirks, "You're afraid of the bike or somethin'." he says hunching his shoulders towards her, the mischievousness in his eyes to tease her make her scoff at him, her head tilting to the side and her mouth open as if she were offended.

She blinks slowly a few times, he can't tell what she's thinking as her eyes narrow, but with a tilt of her head she answers, "Did you really just call me a chicken?" she asks with laughter in her voice "That's some grade school bullshit Brock." she says, no actual anger in her face. She makes a point to show her defiantly putting her phone in her pocket, she zips her jacket up dramatically. "And if you think I'm gonna fall for that..." she says with attitude, her head moving back and forth. "You'd be right." she says with a straight face before a smile that reaches her eyes comes across her face. "You got an extra helmet?" she asks with a quirked brow.

"Just so happens I do." he grins proudly at the fact his mischief paid off. His cheeks high and making his eyes smaller in his first showing of genuine excitement in months. "So that's a yes?" he leans in and tilts his head playfully.

"Yes, that's a yes you big bully." she rolls her eyes and laughs.

"C'mon ya bad ass." he says with a gritty laugh, walking across the street with her. "Let's get ya home Candace." he says with a sharp jerk of his head in the direction of the motorcycle.

She likes how he says he her name, like his accent makes it sound more fun or something. She glances over his face, noting how good he looks in the low light of the street lamps as he puts the helmet on her and straps it under her chin.

"There now, that isn't gonna go nowhere." he says, patting the top of the helmet. She then gets the treat of watching him throw his leg over the bike, jeans strained in all the right places as she holds back a gulp. She follows his lead before he has to ask, she knew how this worked. She just wasn't sure how she was going to handle being pressed up against him with her arms around him for the entire ride. She wasn't scared, he hadn't flown in on the bike like a bat out of hell or anything, but she'd be lying if she hadn't thought this was some girlish fantasy come to fruition for her.

He looks at his phone to remember the address before he starts the bike, she notices he saves it into her contact information. She supposes he would have to come to her place eventually, she wonders if she'll ever get to go to his.

"Alright. Grab tight, we're all friends here." she can feel his laugh as she wraps her arms around his waist, feeling small against the broad expanse of his shoulders. He shields her completely from the biting wind except for her hands, but the warmth from his skin coming from under his shirt was distracting enough to make her not notice.

So she closes out the night with her arms around Eddie Brock and a promise to see each other again. And not just once, but many times, for many hours at a time. It was the most eventful Friday she'd had in what was probably years. But then again, she wasn't much one for things like clubs and going out all night. Her best Fridays were spent with someone she liked, food and a good movie, a video game or a book. She'd had everything but the latter, and she expects she'll be curling up with one after she gets home. She tries to remember everything she can, because when she tells Steph that she rode bitch on Eddie Brock's bike with him taking her home she was going to be the one demanding details for once. ------------------- The next time Eddie and Candace see each other is four days later. But the next time they talk was that same night. Staying up late, her emailing all her work to him, and him eager and having nothing better to do with his time on a Friday, he sat up a workstation of sorts on his coffee table and got to reading.

He was impressed with how thorough she'd been. She had a storyboard of how she wanted the final video to look, she had the name, date and time down for every little note. He'd had people that had worked with him at the network that didn't have their shit together to this degree. He knew she'd be good, he'd seen her work, seen her editing and her delivery but getting into her notes was like getting to see how her mind worked and he found he liked what he found there.

It had been easy to feel less than enthusiastic at times when working for a network. It wasn't as heartfelt or passionate, there was less danger to it and it certainly hadn't made him as genuinely excited about doing something like this was. At the network, he'd been wrangled, censored and directed. But this time he was totally free. Of course, he would work within the frame that Candace wanted to, it was her baby after all, her idea in the first place. He hadn't thought he'd find himself so...what was that feeling he'd almost forgotten? Oh yeah, happy. He'd never been one to play second fiddle to anyone, in his work life he wanted to be aggressive and self-assured, but those traits didn't follow him in pretty much any other aspect of his life. It was nice to feel those things again after feeling like he'd been on an endless losing streak.

They stay up with each other on speaker for almost two hours, organizing, making plans, discussing options and open hours. Even though it was work it didn't feel like it. She seemed genuinely excited about working with him, and in turn that made him even more excited about working with her. When was the last time someone had been happy to see him? He stopped to think about as they ended their phone call. He recalls it had been about four months since Anne left him, and when it did end she certainly hadn't been happy to see him.

The biggest laughs they both experiences in the next few days come from their interactions with each other. She put down acronyms in her notes. They hung there unexplained and eventually Eddie snaps pictures of them sending her the photo with "???" in question. She explained her shorthand, and every now and then he would guess one right, her sending him a gif that would congratulate him. But most of the time he was clueless, and when he found himself stuck, he'd snap another pic and send it with some nonsensical words. Once they were comfortable, telling jokes to each other after feeling out each others sense of humor, the suggestions got more ridiculous and risque. They were the highlight of Candace's work hours. "BTA-RG" Bring The Atlas Right Gear, meaning the GPS didn't work well in that part of town and she needed to bring her gear bag for that bit of work. But when Eddie sent "Big Titties Are Really Great?" out of nowhere she snorted loudly and everyone in the office turned to look at her. She blushed just slightly, hunkering back down and explaining herself. She was more than happy to learn what a total dork he was turning out to be. ------ He sits at the counter at a small hole in the wall diner. He's halfway through a greasy burger when the slam of a heavy bag on the counter breaks his enjoyment. Luckily for him, the sight before him was something that he was enjoying even more than the burger.

It was Tuesday, and since her shift at the shelter on Saturday had been spent talking to people once again, she had more notes to discuss.

"Sorry I'm late." she sighs out, unbuttoning the top clasp of her dress shirt because she was feeling particularly stuffy in the suit she was wearing.

"Oh. Wow." he says with a funny little smile.

"What?" she says freezing, asking him with the move of her brow and her hesitant smile.

"You uh-" 'You look really nice.' is what came to mind but, he takes a detour at the last minute, chickening out. "You have a meeting or somethin'?" he asks, wiping his mouth with a thin napkin from the beaten up metal dispenser that matched the rest of the interior of the greasy spoon location.

"Ugh yeah," she says with a frown. "Had the owners of the paper come in today." she explains.

She turns to look at the pegboard menu on the wall for a moment and he takes in the sight before him. Her navy suit is well fitted, a white button up under it, a pair of heels peek out from the slightly flared bottoms of her pants. He did love it when an attractive person wore a suit well. He liked it even better when he was close to that person, who also happened to be very nice and smart, so that he could get a good look. He hears her order of a double stack burger, onion rings, and a milkshake. He liked that she'd never been light about eating around him, made him feel comfortable like if she wasn't hiding anything, he might not have to either. She had yet to make him feel like anything other than a friend.

"I ran copies of my notes, hope you don't mind going old school." she says with a pleasant smile, reaching into her bag.

"Nah." he says wiping his hands on his jeans and taking the stack from her. "Been a long time since I've got to sit back and have a nice, long threesome with a pen, a highlighter, and some notes." he smirks.

She laughs, something he's pleased to hear instead of reading 'lol' or 'haha' on a screen. "I'm like that with books. I know my tablet can hold a library's worth but there's just something about having that physically in your hands." she says with pouted lips in understanding. She takes a long drink from her milkshake. "Ah, I needed that." she slumps and takes another long drink. "Those meetings are such a pain in the ass. I feel like I deserve a good dirty meal as a reward." she sighs. "I wouldn't mind them if my boss didn't get so worked up over them. Like, just let me do my thing, I got my shit handled like I do every time. Just unclench your butthole and breathe." she rolls her eyes and he lets out a little chuckle.

"I would agree that you have your shit together." he nods supportively.

"Thank you. I do." she says in agreement, but not in an overly cocky way. "So much so it seems I will be taking over the online division for local events as well."

"Oh! Congrats on that." he says with a friendly smack to her arm.

"Thanks. But that also means I'll have less time to work on this. Unfortunately." her face shows genuine disappointment. "But I still wanna do it with you, we're still doing this. You're not gonna get out of it that easy." she leans in in a teasing way, raising her brows at him.

"I don't want out, don't gotta threaten a man, geez." he says playfully.

"Good." she says with a strong nod. "I might need you to do some interviews that I had planned on doing myself though. Would that be okay with you?" she asks before taking a huge bite of her burger, both hands around it, her cheeks puffed like a chipmunk and he found it incredibly endearing.

"No, no problem." he says, half smile still growing as he mirrors her and takes another bite of his.

"I'm down for Saturday again at the shelter. I let the ones I talked to," she points at the stack of papers on the counter. "...the ones in there, know about you and that you'd be working with me. Could you come Saturday afternoon and I'll introduce you, show you around?" she suggests before taking another bite.

"Consider me all yours on Saturday, Candace. I'm ready to get my hands dirty on this with you. Whatever you need help with, just let me know and I'll earn my share alright?" His warm tone and charming smile catch her off guard. She hadn't expected him to be so nice, so willing to roll up his sleeves with her, but she couldn't have been happier about it.

"Great." she says with a relaxing of her posture, elbows moving to the countertop. "We'll go check out some campsites, get a feel for them and the people there. I'll know quite a few, and the more that know both of us the better chance we'll have at them looking out for us when the time comes." she takes a noisy sip of her milkshake. "We can go around the surrounding areas, know the routes in case we have to make a run for it." she let's out a little huff of a laugh but she's serious.

"Sounds good. Been too long since I've had a good stakeout." he nods and grins. "How much area we talkin'?"

"In all Tenderloin's about fifty blocks. We won't be covering all of it but, if we wanna be thorough. And you know I do." she says with a big smile that he returns. "We're talkin' about twenty-five blocks I'm guessing." she nods thoughtfully. "So wear comfortable shoes." she chuckles.

"Well, uh...what about my bike? I can get us around a lot faster that way. I mean we'll have to do the perimeters on foot but it'd really cut down on the time in between."

"I don't have a car so that sounds good to me," she says with a shrug. Her response was casual but the thought of being snuggled up to him on that bike again made her feel like her light reaction was a lie. "We'll be walking a lot so you wanna plan on grabbing something afterward together? We seem to have similar tastes." she smiles, giving a nod to the burger in the red plastic basket in front of him.

The suggestion catches him off guard. It wasn't work, but it didn't feel like anything beyond that either. "Yeah, I'm sure I'll be starving after all that anyway." he purses his full lips and slowly nods.

"Maybe this time you can pick the place? I've picked twice now, it's your turn."

"I don't...know nothin' in the area really." he says slowly like he was thinking while we was still speaking.

"Well, it doesn't have to be in Tenderloin. Where do you live? We can go somewhere you like instead." she says as if that was obvious.

He didn't know that he could take her somewhere farther away, he wasn't sure of the rules of hanging out after work together when all the usual lines of working with someone weren't there. There wasn't a hierarchy from working in an office, no handbook for relationships for two people out trying to enact their own forms of justice. "I live in Fillmore," he says looking out the window behind her. "Honestly Candace, I have a bar I go to and the rest is take out. Unless you want something from the Chen's corner store." she sees his smile seems to be covering something. Like he's embarrassed maybe, which she didn't understand exactly but she wasn't about to let him feel that way.

"Well does the bar have food?" she says in an interesting way.

He lowers his head and does his high pitched short laugh. "Nothing worth eating." he shakes his head.

"We have until Saturday to figure it out. No rush." she shrugs. "Although takeout might really hit the spot after all that work." she side-eyes him, eating her food but keeping an eye out for his reaction. He seems comforted by her words, he didn't need to be sheepish about these sorts of things with her she hoped he'd come to realize. "We could always get some beers, some Chinese or Thai or something and look over the footage we got. Carbo-load after all that walking." her face is forward, now chewing away at an onion ring.

"Yeah you're probably right about that." he wanted to ask where she intended on eating that take out exactly. But 'my place or yours' didn't exactly feel right. He needed an excuse to clean his apartment anyway, and if on Saturday she meant her place, at least he wouldn't be coming home to a depressing bachelor pad. --------------------- Saturday comes and it goes swimmingly. He was personable and gentle with the people she introduced him to. It seemed he was aware he could come off as a little intimidating physically. She couldn't help but notice the way he would get on the other person's level, his voice a soft and considerate and he didn't even laugh loudly so he didn't come off as abrasive. He did most of the talking after the initial introductions. She could tell he'd been researching and paying attention and she was impressed and grateful for the time and consideration he was putting into the work. He made eye contact and touched to connect with people when appropriate, he was good at communicating and she could see how he could get information out of someone if he wanted. A good looking guy like him with emotional intelligence and cleverness to back it up? She really couldn't have found a better partner to work with.

He seemed really knowledgeable about legal matters, able to explain things about prosecution and evidence and trials when people would ask what we wanted out of this work, or what to expect if we did end up being successful. He always stated first he expected us to be successful, and that we were doing it because we wanted to help first and foremost, not to exploit anyone or for the money. She comes to find that she was correct about him dating a successful lawyer, or rather he was engaged to one. Apparently, when he'd gone rogue on Drake, she was also fired from her job and left him. She could hear and see the sadness in his voice and eyes when he would talk about Anne. Candace felt bad for him, but she didn't pity him. If anything she was a bit jealous that he could find anyone at all in this city worth marrying.

She'd deleted tinder ages ago after reaching her limit on immature people who wanted too much from her. After so many failed dates, getting ghosted and even catfished once she'd just given up on actively seeking out someone. She wanted a partner, not someone who depended on her or got intimidated by her own ambitions. But as she liked to remind herself when she started to feel lonely, her career wouldn't wake up one morning and tell her it didn't love her anymore. So she went about her life and stayed sane with the occasional hookup, letting the cards fall where they may.

As they sat on a bench, watching and timing the police patrols of the areas, he got more inquisitive about her with his questions. He learned she came from Kansas, which would explain the strange middle of the road accent she now had. He tells her he's from New York and she does a dramatic expression of faux surprise at the news, which makes him laugh, realizing the obviousness after the fact. His instincts have him pry a little further as she seems willing to answer anything he's sought after so far. He finds out that she left Kansas after dealing with her own blacklisting of sorts. She'd exposed the mayor to pocketing all the vending machine money in all of the government buildings in the city. In her inexperience, she expected some big show of support for her efforts, a dramatic kicking out of the man in question and a public shunning afterward. But she soon learned that life isn't like the movies. The good guys don't always win and get to ride off into the sunset. Sometimes the bad guy gets reelected after a city-wide audit and the good guy gets blacklisted from working in the town. This had pushed her to move away, knowing she still wanted to find the truth and expose it and found she wanted to do that for people who couldn't do it for themselves. That how she found herself doing what she did now. He admired her work ethic and ambitiousness that apparently were deeply ingrained her. She was clearly someone who spoke with both actions and words, never shying from hard work and willing to face failure in the name of the greater good.

Once the sun starts setting they take everything they've gotten and stroll through a lovely, green park to get back to his bike. Eddie actually makes a suggestion of a Chinese place they can get food from. They stop and grab a six-pack before picking up the food and heading back her place. A locked front door and an elevator show the security of the place and he's thankful she found such a good spot since she lived alone. As soon as he walks in the studio apartment he can see her in the decor. It wasn't loud or overdone, pieces she'd written, landscapes and artistic typography hang on the light colored walls. She tells him to make himself comfortable as she grabs some clothes out a chest of drawers.

"I'll be right back, gotta peel off this outer layer I put on for the public." she jokes, already brushing her hair up with her fingers before she shuts the bathroom door behind her.

Eddie takes it upon himself to get the food out onto the small bar with stools in the kitchen. He grabs a box and sits on the soft grey couch placing a beer on a diy tiled mosaic coaster that rest on the coffee table in front of him. He looks around and finds the similarities between their places; a bed blocked off by a bookcase, although hers was much more organized and full of books, kitschy knick-knacks, and collectible toys. A blue desk with a fuzzy white chair in front and stacked boxes with scribbled names and places all full of papers. She had tall stacks of colorful books, titles telling him her wide range of interests from autobiographies to fashion and space. It looked lived in, comfortable but calm and he felt like he could move about the space without disrupting it too much. It felt warm and welcoming and a touch offbeat just like she did.

She comes out of the bathroom with a fresh face, pajama pants with a feminine floral pattern on them under a plain white shirt, her hair pulled up into a pile on top of her head. The act of her letting him see her like this seems like a statement in itself he thinks. She sits next to him, switching on the tv and plugging in the camera to her laptop before putting on a pair of black framed glasses. They clink their beers as they dig in with chopsticks and watch the news as the footage uploads to her computer.

He tells her about which newscasters are dicks in person, sharing a few stories of rubbing elbows at network parties that make her laugh. For the next few hours, they sit side by side, hunched over and watching what they'd gotten over the span of the day. She makes notes and marks time stamps for editing later, something he didn't have as much hands-on experience with as her and was taken back by how fast her brain and fingers would work in tandem to create something coherent out of him simply talking to another person. He compliments her skills, and she compliments his interpersonal skills for making it so easy to capture the right sound bites. This back and forth of praise becomes the norm for them while when work together, and it's something they both needed to hear from someone else whether they knew it or not.

Neither of them said it, but they both felt a sort of ease with each other. This was more rare for Eddie than Candace. She seemed confident no matter where she was. A trait she'd had to learn early, being a young woman in the city. Eddie, on the other hand, was outwardly charismatic but inside feeling totally comfortable was rarer. He'd tried to ignore his worries of things getting awkward with such long spans of time being spent with a stranger and an attractive one at that. The awkward silences never came and the stall in conversations were never long or spent with an inner panic trying to figure out how to get it going again. She never made him feel anything but welcome and appreciated and he'd been going home feeling better about himself every day they'd spent together.

Candace kept being pleasantly surprised by how he was just so nice. He had an animated face that spoke expressive words that never came off condescending, but always charming and usually funny. They'd grown quite fond of each other, and the chains of texts sent back and forth about things that weren't the case between the times when they'd see each other were proof of that.

Pt. 3

@raceylacy​ @emerald-bijou​ @negansdirtygirl22​ @brianaisasongbird​ @vale0413 @izzy-the-ginger

[still-we-rise]

Besties I'm sorry for the DMC and Dante spam but you have to understand my brain isn't capable of thinking about anything else

[trade-baby-blues]

Lost and Found

Pairing: Bones x Reader 

Word Count: 2240

Warnings: Drama! Suspense! Mystery! (There's only some swears and some puking)

A/N: Requested by anon. I took a few liberties but I like the way it turned out! Hopefully you do too! I tried something new with the way I write so if you hate it please let me know and I’ll never do it again, lol. Also completely not proofread except for when I skimmed through it just now!! 

You fell to your knees on the sidewalk outside of Starfleet, the warm concrete feeling foreign against your skin and lips as you kissed it. “Earth,” you cried. “Earth, sweet Earth!”

Bones snorted behind you, holding his hand out to haul you back to your feet. “Quit being so dramatic.”

“I’m only saying what you're thinking,” you said, pulling Bones’ arm down until you could reach his lips with your own. “You sure you don't wanna come out with me tonight?”

“Sugar, I’d rather spend another year in space than have to leave my room for the next three days.”

“All right, grandpa,” you chuckled.

It took you almost three hours to get ready. The feel of warm water sliding down your back and the sweet scent of citrus conditioner felt like a dream after your long run on the Enterprise. You relished it, taking your time to lotion up and comb your hair out before putting on your makeup. It had been so long since you’d done it that your eyeliner came out a little wavy, but you figured no one would notice in the dimly lit bar. When you were finally ready you snapped a picture of yourself to send to Bones and threw your phone on your bed to put on your shoes. With one last glance at your makeup, you were ready for a night of drinking and irresponsibility.

Bones, on the other hand, was neck deep in a bubble bath. Though he’d never admit it, being CMO had taken its toll on his body. Every joint hurt, a deep ache that had settled into his bones no matter how many hypos he gave himself or how many massages you gave him. Finally, he found some relief in the warm water and bath bath salts he'd mixed in. The smell of cobbler wafted through the bathroom from the candle you bought him at the last shore leave in Yorktown.

He grumbled when his phone went off, reaching lazily from the tub to reach for it. Your picture lit up his screen and, for a moment, he regretted not going out with you, but the warm waters called him home and he sunk deeper into them, holding out his phone to snap a picture of himself in the water. Bones set his phone back on the lid of the toilet and allowed his eyes to fall shut.

Normally, you weren't a club person. It was all too noisy and crowded. After the quiet solitude of the Enterprise, broken only by the monotonous him of the oxygen pipes, the club was exactly where you wanted to be. You were already four shots deep grinding on your friends on the dance floor. You were all laughing. At what, none of you could say. Maybe it was the feeble pick-up lines guys were feeding you. Maybe it was the horrible classical music the club was playing. Maybe it was just because you were young and you were free again. You allowed yourself to enjoy it. Until a stranger puked on you anyway.

It started the worst chain reaction you’d seen in your years of science labs. One after the other people on the dance floor started retching. You grabbed your friends and ran (stumbled) as quick as you could outside. You were all still laughing as your heels hit the pavement, clack clack clack. You clung to each other in the cold, swaying. Clack clack clack. You didn't know where you were going, but it didn't matter as long as you with your friends. Clack clack clack. It certainly didn't matter that there was a man following you from the bar, watching your bare legs as your heels hit the concrete clack clack clack.

Bones woke with a start, splashing water over the edge of the tub. It felt like ice on his skin now and he cursed quietly to himself as he hauled his pruney body up and out of the water. He wrapped himself in the fluffiest robe he owned - a soft pink number he'd stolen from you - and grabbed his phone to check the time.

“Shit,” he mumbled, realizing he was late to pick you up from the bar. He called you as he pulled on a pair of jeans and an old sweater you’d bought him a few Christmases ago. It was dark blue with a faded Georgia peach on it, “Georgia on my mind” emblazoned down the sleeves of the left arm. He dropped the phone as he pulled the sweater over his head and cursed under his breath again, scrambling to pick it up only to be greeted by your voicemail.

“I’m on my way, darlin. I’m sorry I…” Bones let his thought trail off, imagining you laughing and calling him grandpa again. He cleared his throat, “I’m on my way. Call ya when I’m out front.”

Bones tapped his thumbs against the steering wheel in time to the song on the radio. He hummed to himself while he waited for you to finally emerge, checking his phone periodically for any update. After 10 minutes he called you again. After 20 minutes he decided “to hell with it” and went inside, surprised to see the bar almost empty until he saw the bartenders scrubbing vomit off the dance floor. He cleared his throat softly and one of the bartenders looked up at him.

“Sorry to bother y’all, but I was wondering if you’d seen this girl.” Bones didn't even have a chance to get his phone out before the bartender scoffed.

“Do you know how many girls I see a day, buddy? Unless she tips well or took her top off on the dance floor, I’m not gonna remember her.”

“Will you just look at the damn picture?” Bones’ voice was equal parts commanding and concerned, but it was impossible to tell which swayed the bartender more.

He sighed and threw his rag onto the floor, pulling the latex gloves off his hands with a pop and taking Bones’ phone. He studied the picture of you carefully, finding nothing to separate you from the other faces that melted together in his day. “I'm sorry, man, but I have no idea. My guess is she got trashed and left with someone.”

Bones muttered a thanks before walking out, careful to let the door slam loudly behind him. The rattle in the window panes mimicked the rattle in his jaw as he ground his teeth together in worry. With a sigh, he got back in his car, calling you four more times before throwing his phone at the passenger seat. The leather steering wheel cover creaked as Leonard tightened his hands around it, pulling in a deep breath before feeling around for his phone in the dark to call Jim.

It was a quick call and Leonard was soon on the road, cruising down the street to look for any sign of you while Jim checked your room to see if you’d gotten a cab home and forgotten to mention it. Leonard scanned the streets with the same pinpoint precision that led to his promotion as CMO. All the poise left him when he saw your jacket strewn across a bench, illuminated as if by a spotlight under the San Francisco street lamps.

Leonard pulled his car into park and let it idle in the middle of the road, not caring if anyone hit it or stole it. The only thing on his mind was your name. He remembered the first time you said it to him and how lovingly he’d said it back to you since then. Never lovingly enough.

The jacket was still smelled like you, so it couldn't have been too long since you’d been here. Leonard buried his face in the coat, breathing in as much of the scent as he could. As if you were both just animals and he could track you by scent alone. Maybe he were. He’d loved you since the first time he smelled you, after all. Like fresh fruit and linen. It was just like those summer days when his ma hung the laundry out to dry in the sun. He’d run around the yard with his cousins and his friends. Would he ever get to run around with you again?

Leonard jumped ten feet in the air when his phone went off. He dropped it in the scramble to get it out of his pocket and swore to himself and to whatever gods were listening before picking it up and answering breathlessly, hoping beyond anything that your voice would greet him.

“She’s not here,” Jim said solemnly. “She left her phone on the bed.” There was silence on the other line, broken only by the rustling of clothes and a hard grunt as Leonard dropped onto the closest bench. Jim waited, biting his lip to preoccupy himself until he couldn't take the silence anymore. “Do you want me to come help look for her?”

Leonard didn't say anything, simply hung up the phone. He stared vacantly outward, not seeing the car or the road or the sidewalks before him - only your face, your body in the dress you wore out tonight. Wondering if that’s the picture the police would ask for when they found your body washed up in the bay.

Get ahold of yourself. You've faced worse on the Enterprise and come back in one piece. She’s probably just with one of her friends.

Leonard looked down at the jacket in his hands, and prayed for the first time in a very long time. He walked back to his car and parked it at a restaurant nearby, figuring it would be easier to find some trace of where you went on foot. Jim called a few times, threatening to call the police if Leonard didn't pick up. When he finally did it was to assure Jim that he had a handle on everything. Leonard wasn't sure if he’d ever told a lie bigger than that.

Walking around looking for clues seemed like a good idea until Bones realized he didn't know where he was going. His mind was lost in thoughts of you, remembering your first date, your first kiss, the way you snort softly when you laugh. Dread crept in his stomach with ever step Leonard took, writhing and twisting like a nest of snakes.

Leonard didn't know how long or how far he’d walked until he passed the diner where he’d asked you on your first date. You laughed at him then, saying you thought you were already on a date. He fumbled out some kind of apology, wondering how you made his usually steady hands so shaky and knowing then and there you were the one he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. It was embarrassing how quickly and deeply he loved you, doodling your name with his on a spare notepad on his desk after only a few dates. Mrs.

“Leonard McCoy.” Bones whipped around as his thought came to life, though slurred and distant. “Leeeeeee you have to come in! You won't guess who we ran into!”

Bones looked at you like he’d been lost in the desert and you were water, like a pious man at the foot of a god. Then he ran to you. You giggled as he lifted you off your feet, burying his face against your shoulder before setting you down and kissing you like it was his last breath.

You only managed a few seconds before you burst into giggles again, arms slung around Bones’ shoulders as you stared up at him. “I’m happy to see you too, pumpkin.” You brushed your nose against his.

“Why didn't you take your phone,” Bones asked as all the adrenaline left his body. His voice quivered and tears burned at his eyes harsher than the wind that picked up.

“My phone?” You furrowed your brow, trying to get your thoughts in some semblance of an order but the alcohol stopped you. “I’m sorry, babydoll. I thought I had it. Must’ve been too excited to go out. Did you call me?”

“At least ten times,” Bones snapped back. He pinched his eyes shut, knowing it would do no good to get mad at you while you were drunk. “I was supposed to pick you up at the bar.”

“Shit. Shit. I forgot. I’m sorry, peaches, I ran into an old friend and I totally forgot.” Bones couldn't help the twinge of a smile at your ridiculous nicknames for him. “God, I’m useless when I'm drunk,” you laughed.

“Well, how ‘bout I take you home and sober you up with some movies and popcorn and then you can make it up to me?”

You giggled again, feeling like a schoolgirl hearing the word “penis” for the first time. Practically skipping to your friends’ table as Bones hovered in the doorway. You kissed each of them goodbye and grabbed your purse. “Thanks for returning this Phillip! We’ll have to catch up another time or Mr. Grumps over there might kill me.” You winked clumsily at Bones before stumbling up to him and throwing an arm around his waist. “Ready to go, Lenny Benny?”

Bones couldn't stop the laugh that left him. Nothing put him at ease like having you back in his arms. Well, except maybe having you in his bed but that would come later. 

Tags!

@daybreak96 @8bit-arc-reactor @jimtkirkisabitch @sjlovestory @outside-the-government @martinawalker @thevalesofanduin @goingknowherewastaken @yourtropegirl @mysteriously-lost-forever @feelmyroarrrr @yukki-art @atari-writes @pabegay1 @bolontiku  @brooke-taylor0323 @anotherotter

[kyulkyungs]

Teacher, Bye Bye!

Character(s): Boo Seungkwan, Vernon (Chwe Vernon Hansol), Dino (Lee Chan)

Genre: Fluffy goodness!!! The final part of the Kindergarten!AU (excluding possible requests).

Word Count: 1,734

Summary: The year has been something special, and it’s time to say goodbye to this year’s kinder class! It looks like the boys want to spend some more time with you before they leave!

A/N: Yikes! I thought the ending was a little bad. Typical of me since I don’t plan while writing, I normally do it all in one go lmao. Whatever comes to mind is what will be added in unless I decide it’s not fit. I’ve deleted 500+ words before because I didn’t like where the plot was going. Anywho, it’s done!! The kinder series I chose to write myself is done, but requests are always nice. Thanks for reading the series that really started this blog off!! :D

95 Line / 96 Line / 97 Line / 98 & 99 Line

The excitement and chatter among the kids in the classroom was continuous even after the many hours of playtime in the day. Now it was nearing late afternoon and almost time to go home, yet all of the energy remained. Especially with the bowls of candy, and fruit provided by you, sitting around the class.

“No running inside the classroom!” You scolded some children quickly passing by, they all slowed somewhat but were still moving faster than what was considered a walking pace. Shaking your head slightly, you allowed an amused smile to come off of your lips.

“Hey, do your ears even work? Slow down, you’re gonna bump into me and you’ll regret it!”

“Seungkwan,” you scolded once more, but lightly and still with a smile. “It’s not nice to threaten the other kids. Even if it’s the end of the year.”

“You’re right. I probably will never see them again because they’ll ditch all their current friends for new ones next year.”

“Seungkwan!”

“I’m guilty as charged.” 

You laughed, making Seungkwan beam brightly and his chubby cheeks make room for all the teeth wanting to show. “Seungkwan, unless you went to preschool, I don’t think there’s much to talk about.”

The child raised his arms in mock defense and gave you a rather serious look, making you want to laugh some more. “Believe me, you know that one girl with snot on her nose three classrooms down? She used to be my best friend until she left me for the kid in the class next door. She’s a two timer, that’s what!”

“Seungkwan, you need to stop watching dramas while my mom is,” Hansol whispered into his friend’s ear. Seungkwan shrugged and looked back up at you.

“Don’t mind him, he’s shy.” You crouched down to properly speak with the boys.

“Believe me, Seungkwan. I would know. Had too much candy, Hansol?” The boy shook his head, dark locks flying around with each movement and landing in his face.

“My mom never lets me eat this much candy, so I’m trying to eat all the candy I want right now.”

“Don’t eat too much or you’ll get a stomach ache, okay?” Hansol nodded and scurried over to one of the many sugar filled bowls, dragging Seungkwan with him. 

“Do we have anymore strawberries?” There was a bowl hitting the side of your legs, which had red fruit stains and a couple of little strawberry leaves in it. It was indeed empty and had greatly upset the child holding the bowl up.

“Chan,” you cooed, gently taking the bowl from him. “We have one more box of strawberries that I have to wash and cut up. Do you want me to do that?”

Chan nodded excitedly. “Yes please!”

“Do you want to help?” Another, perhaps even more enthusiastic, nod.

“Can I? Please?!” You nodded this time, but calmly with an added chuckle. Not to pick favorites, but Chan was one of the kids in the class that you’ve enjoyed teaching this year. Being the first born of his parents, they weren’t sure when to enroll him and ended up enrolling Chan a year early, making him the youngest in the class. If he continues like this, at least he can brag about graduating high school ‘a year early.’ For now, he was the kid that showed up to school wearing a dinosaur t-shirt every other day because he saw a show and instantly loved dinosaurs.

Luckily there was a sink inside your classroom, so you didn’t have to use the hose outside. The box of strawberries you mentioned before was sitting by your desk, just calling out to be opened. When Chan saw it, he excitedly ran over to it and grabbed it, running back to you with both of his hands tightly wrapped around the plastic box. You had already started running the sink to find an appropriate temperature for the water so Chan could put his hands in without feeling too hot or cold.

“Ready to wash?”

“I’ll make sure to wash these strawberries with love!” Chan exclaimed, opening the box and carefully taking each strawberry out. With a plastic knife, you began to cut the leafy part of the strawberry off and quarter each piece of fruit delicately placed down by Chan. When you finished at least ten, you noticed that Seungkwan had taken a seat right next to you and was simply smiling up at you while you were working.

“What are you doing Seungkwan?” You asked, continuing your work. He kept smiling up at you.

“Sitting next to you.”

“Is there a reason for that?”

“You’re my favorite teacher!”

“Seungkwan, I’m pretty sure I’m the only teacher you’ve had unless you went to preschool.”

“I said I was guilty as charged last time.”

For the nth time today, Seungkwan had made you laugh. “I still don’t know how you learn all of these phrases.” Said boy merely shrugged and was swinging his legs on the sink counter top, still smiley as ever. “What’s with that smile too?”

“You’re my favorite teacher!”

“Whatever you say,” you joked. Seungkwan pouted and shoved his head into your arm, making you accidentally drop the strawberry back into the sink.

“Careful! This is a delicate process and even a small mistake will lead to the worst case yet!”

“That being you crying?”

“Yes!” Chan yelled out before you could scold Seungkwan. You apologized to the youngest and picked the strawberry out of the sink, slowly like Chan had instructed you do. In no time, the bowl of strawberries was refilled and a happy Chan replaced the serious Chan from before.

“Are you going to eat all of these by yourself, Chan?” Seungkwan asked, hovering over the bowl to see the sea of red fruit. Chan looked into the bowl as well and then shyly looked away.

“I could... share them with you guys if you want them.” Seungkwan eagerly took a strawberry out of the bowl, saying a thanks and then calling his partner in crime over.

“Hansol! No more candy, your mom is gonna yell at you if you get a cavity!” Seungkwan shouted across the room, effectively catching the boy in the act of shoving candy into his pockets. He came waddling over with some candy packets falling out of his overflowing pockets.

“I wasn’t eating any, I was picking some out for later. I’m going to plant them in the garden and grow candy trees.” Hansol scooped the fallen pieces of candy and started to create a mini pouch with his shirt, piling the candies from his pockets in that pouch too.

“You look like a kangaroo, and your bellybutton is showing.”

“I don’t care. I need to protect these candy babies.”

“Do you want a strawberry or not?” Seungkwan asked, taking out another strawberry and holding it out for Hansol. The boy opened his mouth and instead of answering, kept it open for Seungkwan to feed him the strawberry. When he started chewing, a muffled ‘thank you’ came out.

“Do you want one?” Chan held a strawberry out for you to take. “I picked out the biggest one for you because you’re my favorite teacher too.”

“Thank you, Chan. I’ll make sure to savor this strawberry.”

“You better. I was planning on eating that one and I washed it the most carefully, so treasure it.”

“Oh, are you sure that you don’t want it?” The way Chan was looking longingly at the strawberry kind of made you feel bad. He even had a pout to go with it.

“This is my going away gift for you because I’m not going to be back next year.” Chan’s pout got even bigger and he looked up at you, curling your fingers over the strawberry in a similar manner to the type in movies. “So treasure it, okay?” With that, Chan took the entire bowl of strawberries and ran off to another corner of the room where he could eat them all by himself.

“I have a going away gift too,” Hansol murmured, kicking the ground slightly and shuffling towards you. “I saw some rappers on TV, and tried to write a rap for you.”

You smiled brightly, making Hansol smile as well but aim his smile at the ground instead, too shy to meet your eyes. “Well let’s hear it, Hansol.”

“I wanna do it when there’s nobody listening. It’s special and only for you.” Agreeing with Hansol and finding that perfectly fine, you casted an amused glance at the little candy pouch he was still making with his shirt.

“Do you want a bag for that?”

“I can’t hide a bag when my mom comes to get me, she’ll know and my candy garden will never happen,” Hansol pouted. The kids and their pouts these days... were they deliberately trying to melt you? “So can you keep this a secret with me?”

You laughed, finding the sack of candy right on Hansol’s belly a little obvious anyways, but agreed to keep it a secret. “Then do you want to sit next to me until you think the coast is clear for you to start rapping?” Hansol nodded and took the seat next to you on the sink’s counter. Like Seungkwan, he began swinging his legs. “Where did Seungkwan go by the way?”

“Right here!” Seungkwan called, holding a bundle of fallen leaves from the trees outside. “I wanted to find flowers, but there weren’t any pretty enough for you. Leaves can be pretty too though! They can be a part of flowers or something much bigger. They give you shade and make good umbrellas for the rain too!”

“You can get leaves pressed too, to reserve them. My mom did that with a flower I gave her and it still looks colorful.” Hansol nudged one of the leaves in your little ‘bouquet.’ 

“That’s a great idea! Then you can remember me forever!” Seungkwan shouted.

“Can you get strawberries pressed? I wanna keep one forever so I can eat it whenever I want,” Chan said, reappearing with an almost empty bowl.

“I want to rap now! Everyone leave!” Hansol shouted, performing a crab stance and warding off the two other boys.

Seungkwan used his arms to block his body from Hansol’s crab pincers. “To be clear, this isn’t what happened in the drama yesterday!”

[askmicrowaveayem]

MAYEM: The Earth Is Not A Cold Dead Place Pt. 6 (END)

[Previous]

[Archive] [Cast]

Kid covered his face and tried to not laugh.

“I can't believe you're burning your void,” he said.

This is the kind of shit Goop would've scolded Kid for back when he was alive.

--

“It’s my void, let me burn it if I wanna.” Goop chuckled.

“I was actually a little worried it would hurt the circuitry of the thing but I realized that it never really gets very far before just… vanishing. So I think it’s okay.”

--

...Kid nodded, not sure what to make of that but…

“...okay. I'm going to admit right now I honestly thought you were always just holding this bubble of coffee inside you until you got outside or something instead of it vanishing and I never really understood it but I wasn't going to question it. So. I'm glad that got cleared up, honestly.”

--

Goop turned and stared at him. “... You thought I just kept it inside me and then… puked it out or something all this time?”

He seemed both a mix of horrified and incredibly amused.

--

“Your void hates liquid! I assumed it just… Wouldn't assimilate!” Kid said, throwing his hands up.

“So maybe you kept it in a little pocket, like how you carried your magazines and stuff! It made sense.”

--

“I mean… yeah I guess that makes sense.” Goop said, still looking pretty amused. “But I don’t… hold it? I just let it go after it goes in my mouth and then it just sorta…”

“...”

“I bet there’s like… a pile of old coffee and potato chips and shit sitting in the void somewhere.” He looked at Kid.

--

Kid stared at Goop.

“....the final revenge,” he said.

--

“I’m going to make it my new life’s mission to turn the void into a fucking trash heap.”

“PLEASE DON’T START EATING GARBAGE JUST TO SPITE THE VOID.” Papyrus said with a grimace.

--

“Let's find the grossest human food and go for it,” Kid said with a straight face.

--

“AUGH.” Papyrus groaned, “I AM HAVING NO PART IN THIS.”

“i totally am.” Sans grinned, “there’s a really sketchy deli around the block. next time i’m there i’ll grab something gross and bring it back.”

“Excellent.” Goop grinned evilly.

--

“Family outing,” Kid said, grinning.

A little hopeful.

Family?

--

Goop grinned and turned to Papyrus.

“...” The tallest skeleton sighed and threw up his hands. “OH FINE.”

“Yaaay.” Goop grinned, standing up.

--

Kid grinned a little.

Watched them.

…

They’d go shopping eventually. It was easier on Goop when he could touch things. When he could feel things.

Kid handed him fruits and let him weight them in his palms.

…

And then they started buying things for something a little less casual.

--

The outing was nice. They stopped by the gross deli and Goop ate a really sketchy sandwich, much to his youngest son’s dismay and his eldest’s pleasure, and after that he got to touch fruits and vegetables and bags of cookies. It was simple motions and feelings that most people took for granted that he took the time to enjoy.

That evening they would stay awake with Goop into the night outside, letting him feel the evening air come in. The kids would go to bed eventually, and then he and Kid would go for a walk.

They sat on the front porch of their house as the sun rose, and Goop took Kid’s hand in his and squeezed it, and for the first time since they had been sealed underground so many years ago, he felt the sunrise warm up the air around him.

And he cried.

It wasn’t a heavy cry. Just a few tears. Just overwhelming emotions.

He was finally here, in the moment. He wasn’t just a ghost floating through the world anymore, but rather part of it.

Before they headed back to the house Goop hugged his friend tight, and thanked him.

For everything.

--

…

It was hard to explain. Knowing his friend had never really felt his hugs before. Knowing that it hadn’t really done anything.

Not until now.

Knowing that now Goop could feel the ground beneath him, and the weight and pressure of Kid’s arms around him, so much stronger than the shallow buzz of two souls being nearby.

Two pathworked, broken souls.

Two souls that had tried to make themselves twins.

…

He didn’t respond to the thanks. He just hugged Goop a little tighter. Rested his head against Goop’s shoulder and asked if he’d like to go up to bed.

...it was finally, finally time to rest.

--

They would head home and finally rest, and for most of the day they wouldn’t come out. As much as he loved the sensation the new machine brought him, it also tired him out. It was a lot to take in, and a lot to deal with, so for once he actually managed to sleep.

Their room had a mattress now, mostly because Kid could still feel, and they slept curled up on it together. Goop might have held him a little more than usual, as if he let go he wouldn’t feel it anymore.

But he did. He woke up and knew right away that the pressure was Kid and the mattress underneath them and the warmth of the blankets.

It was nice.

…

They made a date for their wedding finally.

Well, ‘wedding’.

They made little invitations and started to jump around to the old haunts that felt like they hadn’t been there in decades.

They went to the smiley Gaster they were going to have the party in and told him even though neither of them were really sure how much he understood. They invited the married couple through the transmitter, and informed them that the danger had passed, although they politely declined.

Understandable, from what little they knew they had been through.

They invited the old Gaster and his grandkids, told Voidkid and the new friend he had traveling with him, the skeleton Gaster who was staying in the dog world, the other version of Goop that Kid had saved, the really fucking tall guy too even though they didn’t think he would come even if he could.

But the offer was what mattered.

They decided on rings. They decided on a cake. They decided on clothes. Actual clothes for once.

Goop decided to wear all white since it was usually the other way around, and it took him a couple of tries to actually be able to walk around comfortable inside something, but he managed it.

--

Kid thought it was a little funny to watch Goop walk around like he was bloated.

...Really funny, actually.

...he decided to try and match. Once Goop got used to the suit and actually settled in it, at least.

He started going down to the dump of their worlds, gathering shards of glass and other little broken things for the shared drink, which would… be a pretty interesting first drink, what with their unique makeup! But at least they would both be able to feel it.

...he went and picked up some shrapnel from the place his parents had once lived, too. It’d started to be built up again, now. It was being turned into apartments again. Living spaces. Too many monsters in the underground.

...but he was still able to find some old pieces of window glass.

Most monsters would’ve gone to Asgore to melt the glass in Kid’s underground. Kid somewhat wanted to see if Goop’s younger self could do it for them instead. ...he’d’ve asked Goop’s Grillby, if that Grillby were still around.

But he’d see about asking the happy little skeleton instead.

….there were other things to do.

Paper chains covered every corner of the house for a little while. His kids were making flag banners. It was hard to go set up ahead of time, but his Sans and Papyrus had talked with Goop’s in order to head off to the little cave and figure out how to make it work.

The smiley Gaster would live in a colorful, cheerful looking cave for a while before the wedding even took place.

--

They had a long conversation about marriage customs between them, especially since Goop was mostly drawing on times before monsters were underground, and only from what little he knew of weddings back in his home town. He hadn’t participated in any in the underground.

But he was eager to help with the glass bowl, as was his much younger self when it was given to him.

He was absolutely flattered that Kid had chose him to melt it for them.

Sans and Papyrus worked with their doppelgangers in Kid’s world to help set everything up, jumping from one world to the next to put up streamers and set up tables.

As the day approached the kids scrambled to set up food and cake and bring everyone in that had accepted. The different Gasters, Alphys, their kids.

Kid and Goop were the last to arrive and survey what had been set up for them, and Goop’s eye lit up.

It was the first time he could recall having a party just for the hell of it since he was a little boy.

--

It was an awful lot of people for a very little cave.

There was a long table with a cloth on it and the cake--taken from aboveground weddings, now. There were streamers and little colorful banners on the cave walls. Someone had strung fairy lights on the ceiling along with the regular crystals, turning the cave’s glow warm and soft. One of their Sanses had brought in a little battery-run CD player and it was playing something under the chatter inside, never letting the room fall silent.

...And there were cards on the table by the cake. A well-wish by the couple who hadn’t come. A formal address from the enormous Gaster, who had sent his two sons as ‘envoys’ in his place--a pair of young skeletons, dressed up to the nines in embroidered suits looking around with wide excited eyes, hesitantly being coerced into playing along with the Grandfather’s young pair and the Dogster, who rolled contently on the floor beside his smiling puddle of a new friend.

The grandfather himself was fussing over Goop’s Sans. The pair of Papyru standing along with the younger version of Goop who was all smiles, feeding the trio’s anxious energy.

...Kid’s own Sans was being introduced to VK’s traveling friend, who looked very out of place, but had also brought a card--he had an orange scarf and wasn’t a skeleton, but he was polite and eager to please and chat, and that went a long way in this crowd.

...Sans stopped talking when he spotted Kid and Goop arriving though.

Headed over to them.

...Gave Kid a nudge in the ribs, and then a hug.

“You ready?”

...Kid laughed a little and hugged him back.

“...Probably more than I’ve ever been.”

--

Goop’s kids came over too, grinning and hugging their dad before gesturing to the center of the cave, a pedestal with the glass bowl they had made sat on top filled with water instead of any sort of wine or fruit drink, just to go a little easier on both of them. Kid especially.

Then they returned to their spots and eagerly waited.

Goop made a grab for the bowl.

“HEY! YOU HAVE TO SAY SOMETHING ABOUT KID FIRST!!” Papyrus guffed, and Goop stopped to look at him.

“... Really? You’re going to make us do the speech?”

“OF COURSE!”

“You gotta say at least something nice!” His younger version added in.

Goop groaned nervously and looked across the pedestal at Kid.

“Uh. Okay.”

“...”

“Do I have to go first?”

--

Kid stared at him.

“It will absolutely be worse if I go first.”

He was already starting to morph a duck bill.

--

“Don’t you fucking dare.” Goop said, putting a hand over Kid’s face, laughing.

Then he sighed and drummed his fingers along the edge of the pedestal. “Uh…”

“...”

He looked over at everyone at the table sitting and waiting and if he was at all capable of blushing he definitely would have.

“Uh. So.”

“...”

Goop looked back up at Kid. “Thanks. For. Uh. Putting up with me and… I think you’re really great and uh…”

He wanted to melt back into the void right about now.

“... I’m glad I crashed into your lab forever ago, even if I’m sorry for dragging you across the multiverse. Um…”

“... I love you. You’re the best friend I’ve ever had.”

He wanted to die.

--

Kid did too.

He was hiding behind his hands. A lot.

And curling down some.

Oh boy.

Oh god he saw someone say ‘aww’ on the lower level.

“You’re a jerk,” he squeaked.

--

Goop laughed, his voice cracking a little.

“I try. Your turn, you can’t get out of this shit now.”

--

Kid shrank and made a pathetic sound, but he did waddle over to where Goop was to do a speech too.

…

He wasn’t any better at this than Goop was. Even if it was a room full of friends.

“...I’ve broken most of my morals for you and I think that probably says a lot about…. That. That’d I’d still probably do it again.”

He covered his face again.

--

Goop laughed, “That was so fucking awful. Come on, I said more than that! Pat my ego!”

--

Aaaagh. Kid batted a hand at him.

“I thought I was supposed to be honest?”

--

“Augh.” Goop groaned, but he was smiling.

Some of the guests laughed.

He reached for the bowl to take a drink of the water, then handed it to Kid.

--

Kid took it.

“...”

“I really would do anything for you,” Kid said quietly. “...even if I’m kinda shit at saying it out loud.”

…

He held the bowl up to let Goop drink from it.

--

“...” Goop just smiled.

When they finished taking their drinks, everyone clapped and cheered, and Goop stepped around the pedestal to wrap his arms around his friend and give him a hug.

--

Kid hugged back. Awkward with happiness and not sure where to go or what to do next--

But that would be okay.

They didn’t need to know much anymore.

Right now, they just had to serve everyone some cake.

--

There was no time crunch. No looming death. No inevitable destruction.

Just cake and friends.

They served it out to everyone, slices cut for the little kids and set on the ground for the dog and even offered to the very happy slime resting roughly in the middle of the room even if he couldn’t eat it.

They went over to VK and his new friend to be introduced and talked to him awhile to get to know him, to learn a bit about his world.

The younger version of Goop continuously approached Kid to talk about him about… anything and everything he could think of with the same sort of excitement his old friend talked about things, but with a youthful joy that Goop had long since lost.

Sans humored the oldest Gaster’s fussing, cracking jokes and entertaining his grandkids when they weren’t playing with the small children in elaborate, royal clothing. Papyrus was abuzz almost everywhere, asking everyone where they were from and what they did and if they would like another slice of cake.

… It was a fun party, even for a pair of Gasters who had been dragged through hell and were horribly socially anxious.

--

It helped that this was their party.

It was just… made of them. People they cared about. People they’d talked with before and they trusted. Maybe those people hadn’t ever met each other before, but…. It was also satisfying. Seeing people who had never met before, but come together anyway, and they got along.

And they all came here for them.

...Kid entertained the younger Goop as much as he could before VK intervened, pulling the little kid away to talk with him too. To happily measure himself up with the littler version of his friend.

Kid settled down beside the very smiley void eventually, trying to catch a moment of rest in the bustle.

--

Goop eventually did too, sitting on the other side of the smiling puddle of void as things started to wind down. His Sans and Papyrus started to take those home who felt like it was time to go back, and they would approach Goop and Kid on their way out to congratulate them one more time and tell them not to be a stranger.

They took the royal kids home shortly after grandpa Gaster and his grandkids left, the dog and his friend was soon to follow, and eventually the younger Goop came to say goodbye as well.

He told Kid that he was very happy to see him again, and that he was always up for a visit.

Eventually even VK would need to get moving on with his new friend in search of their Sans and Papyrus.

They were left with their kids and the smiling void between them.

…

“This was really nice.” Goop said as the cave grew quiet.

--

Kid hugged the little ones and his younger Goop as they all left.

Promised he’d get the younger one something to talk to him more once they’d figured out the technology for it.

And then Sans and Papyrus took them home. Kid’s own pair were quietly beginning to clean up, Sans yawning and Papyrus stretching up to reach the banners.

“Yeah, it was,” Kid said as he watched.

He was exhausted and drained, but not… in a bad way. In a way like he was ready to happy settle in for a long, warm nap, and knowing the wouldn’t have to worry about when he woke up. It was a strange, smooth but fuzzy feeling inside him.

It was nice.

He looked down at the smiling void.

“You like it too?”

Grinned.

--

Goop grinned right back at him. “Glad you could make it.”

Even though the guy hadn’t moved at all.

…

“We’ll stop by and visit you more often now. Bring some playing cards. Oh, we got that one set from the couple.” He said, and went to reach into his chest only to hit white fabric.

He gruffed and reached into the pocket that had them instead.

They were a really nice set of playing cards.

“... Man…” He said, sighing and looking over at Kid.

“I can’t believe they beat us getting married though.”

--

Kid snorted. “We don’t even know when they started!”

Really, it wasn’t a race.

--

“Yeah! But!”

…

“I wanted to win.”

--

…

Kid put a hand on Goop’s forehead.

“You win.”

--

“Is there a prize?”

--

“A hug.”

--

“Excellent.”

Then he hugged the void between them.

--

The void smiled wider but Goop’s hug would be like trying to squish jello.

The void oozed overtop his arms.

Kid just laughed at him.

--

Goop stuck to his guns and gave the void a nice, long hug before pulling away, completely straight-faced even as bits of the void stayed on his clothes.

“Best prize ever.”

--

Fortunately for everyone, the void didn’t really stick. It slowly pulled away, stretching back into the smiling void’s mass like over-stretched bubble gum slowly pulling itself back together.

The smiling void seemed very pleased all the same, and if possible, probably also would have been making very pleased sounds as well.

“A very good prize-giver.”

--

“Agreed.” Goop said, smiling down at the happy puddle.

By then most of the party had been cleaned up, and the kids were just figuring out how to pack away the rest of the cake. Or rather, the Papyru were and both Sanses were throwing pieces of candy at each other, trying to score into their mouths.

“... So… where ya wanna stay for awhile? Your place? Mine? Wanna be alone with your kids for a bit? Up to you.”

Kid didn’t have as much involvement in the daily lives of his kids, so it was up to him. He more or less lived in Goop’s house now.

--

Maybe once his kids reached the surface Kid would find a more permanent way to go back and forth, but for now, he was just… going to stick with visits and communication pretty often.

“...I’m ready to rest, but shouldn’t we help them clean up?”

--

Goop turned around to look at them.

“... You mean help the Papyru clean up? Yeah.” He said, standing up to go do that.

Most of the streamers and tablecloths were already in the machine, but the tables and rest of the mess still needed put away.

So that’s what he did, helping them gather up the trash and put it into bags and take with them so as to not mess up cave Gaster’s little home.

After a moment Goop paused and sliced another piece of cake, putting it on a plate.

“... Let’s take a piece to Twitchy.”

--

At first Kid was about to object. That Gaster wanted little or nothing to do with them, and definitely wouldn’t accept a piece of cake from them--

…

And then he realized which one Goop was talking about.

…

He nodded.

“Yeah. I’m sure he’d like that,” Kid said, putting a hand on Goop’s shoulder gently.

…

“Let’s get the kids home first and get the other stuff out of the machine. I can hold the plate for you.”

--

“Yeah, good idea.” Goop said, and passed the little plate to Kid while he helped the kids fold up the table and carry it into the machine along with everything else. As they left they gave the smiley Gaster their goodbyes and headed home, dropping off Kid’s Sans and Papyrus first and then his own along with Alphys, and then unpacking everything.

With the machine empty it was time to say hello to an old friend.

…

They went back into it and jumped into a familiar world that would never see light. That would never be warm or full of the Papyrus’ laughter, or Sans’ bad jokes.

To the grave that remembered a skeleton who had sacrificed himself for monsters who hated him.

--

There were the buds of flowers around the memorial this time. Blue and cut off from the stem. Still somewhat colored. Not fully dry yet.

It seemed some people did still visit. Perhaps a school trip to teach children their history. ...Perhaps someone much older, on their own.

But there were the buds of blue, small flowers.

Kid stood back as Goop went to the grave. Stayed by the machine. To give him some privacy.

…

He’d like to think Twitchy would’ve wanted to come today. He didn’t know Goop’s friend at all.

But he’d like to think so, anyway.

--

Goop guessed he would have probably loved it. The guy would have made it really, really fun. At least that’s what Goop thought.

…

He approached the grave and set the little paper plate of cake in front of it.

“... Wish you could’ve been there.” He said quietly, and stood there for a few long moments just looking at the engravings on the stone before reaching out to touch it.

“Take care, buddy.”

Then he turned and walked back to his partner.

--

…

The stone was smooth and cold.

There were little grooves and bumps where the letters were carved. The surface was a little uneven, but only to the touch.

…

Kid reached out for his hand when Goop came back.

“...you ready?”

--

“Yeah.” Goop said, reaching for Kid’s hand and interlocking his fingers with his.

“Let’s go home.”

[angelicspaceprince]

Muriel’s Birthday

Author: Toby

Title: Muriel's Birthday

Pairing: Muriel/Reader

Character/s: Muriel, Asra, Nadia, Julian, Portia, Inanna, Toby(Me/MC)

Word Count: 2, 834 words

Warnings: N/A

Tags: N/A

Prompt: Muriel confesses to his partner that he doesn't have a birthday. Toby, horrified, does his best to make his first birthday the best one he can possibly have.

Notes: So there is this thing for a zine where you can write about your male oc (whichismeokayiamtrash) and it might be published in a zine for the Arcana. This is a practice piece so I can work on perfecting my characterisation of my favourite character in the game. Enjoy? I guess?

Buy Me a Coffee

Muriel's Birthday

When Toby heard the news that Muriel didn’t have a birthday, he was shocked. Blood rushed to Muriel’s face as Toby stares at him in disbelief, pulling the smaller man from his thoughts when he snaps a quick ‘it doesn’t even matter anyway’ before turning around to continue cutting up vegetables for dinner.

“But. Everybody has a birthday, M.” Toby says quietly.

“Well I don’t.” A tense silence grows between the pair before Muriel sighs, shoulders deflating as he mumbles something that Toby has to strain his ears to hear. “I can’t remember when it is.”

Ah. That makes a bit more sense. Muriel didn’t seem to be the type to celebrate birthdays, but still. Toby wanted an excuse, any excuse, to spoil his partner. He gives Inanna the final piece of dried meat for her dinner before walking over to wrap his arms around Muriel’s waist, ignoring the small sounds he makes of surprise and how he tenses before relaxing. Toby presses a kiss against his back before pulling away. “Well then. I guess we are just going to have to give you a birthday then.” He bumps hips with Muriel, looking up at him with a big smile. “We won’t do anything big; it can just be us or whoever you want but. It’d be a reason to celebrate and have fun. Gives me an excuse to make you something too.” He hums, thinking over what he could possibly make his partner.

Muriel’s lips twitch into a small, almost-there smile. “As if you need a reason to make me anything.”

Toby gasps. “Is that a joke? Have we finally made a comedian out of you?” He seems to brighten when Muriel’s almost-there smile grows to a most-definitely-there grin. “I know, but I still like to have an excuse for when I go to the market. I’m there too often for someone who isn’t a seamstress or a tailor.” That earns him a chuckle. “Just. Something to think about, yeah? I won’t do anything without your okaying it first.” Toby brings himself to his tiptoes, huffing when he realises, he’s still too short to press a kiss to Muriel’s cheek. He plays pity on Toby, thankfully, and leans down with a small smirk so his partner can press his lips against his own. “Alright, now, what do you need me to do?” Toby turns to face the counter, trying to see what needs to be done to prepare dinner.

It had been a couple of days since Toby brought up the idea of him having a birthday and Muriel wasn’t completely for the idea, but that being said he wasn’t completely against it either. He liked the idea of spending time with Toby and he would take any excuse to do that, even though – much like Toby with his crafting – Muriel never needed an excuse to spend time with his partner. Still, as the pair work together to feed their neighbours, Toby also grabbing some fruit to feed to their newly moved in goat neighbours, much to Muriel’s chagrin. He watched as Toby moves to pet Bwakbwak, chatting to her quietly about her egg-laying habits before he clears his throat.

“I was thinking.” He starts before hesitating. Maybe Toby wasn’t being serious? Or perhaps just polite?

Toby seems to read his mind, picking up the chicken in front of him before moving to stand in front of the giant. “Always a dangerous task.” He jokes. “What about?”

“About-. About my birthday.” Muriel can’t help but soften when he sees the bright smile on Toby’s face. “I don’t care when we celebrate it but……I wouldn’t mind-” He looks slightly frustrated when he can’t put the words together. “I want to make happy memories with you.” He finally lets out.

Toby grins. “Well then. It’s another excuse for me to provide you with the best memories that I have to offer.” He holds up the chicken to Muriel. “Ya gotta pet her, she’s broody and moody.”

A smile passes over Muriel’s lips before he pets the chicken, Toby leaning down to let Bwakbwak go before standing and moving to grab Muriel’s hand and lead him back to the hut. “Do you have a date in mind?”

Muriel shrugs. “It doesn’t matter.” Really, the date could be arbitrary, it didn’t matter to him. “Three months?” He offers.

“From today?” Toby asks, thinking for a second. “Nadia is throwing a masquerade around that time, and she wants us to go.” He pauses, knowing that the likelihood of Muriel wanting his birthday to be around that time was low. It took a lot of energy out of him being around people for that long, and Toby didn’t want to step on toes or make him feel like he was obligated to go or have his birthday on the same day. “How about the day before? It can be just us and Asra and whoever else you want to come? A warmup for the masquerade, if you wanted to come.”

“I want to go.” He dismisses Toby’s concerns, his cheeks turning pink slightly. “I like……going with you…..to things….” He finishes off awkwardly.

Toby cuts him some slack. “I know, lovely, but I don’t want you to feel burnt out.” He ignores Muriel’s reddened cheeks and soft smile at the pet name.

“Same day.” When Toby looks up at him confused, Muriel repeats himself. “My birthday can be on the same day at the masquerade.’ He explains. In reality, he doesn’t think he could handle a full day with the attention on him. So, this was a nice way to have a birthday, some attention on him, as well as have a break and not have people focusing on him, rather he could focus on Toby.

“Are you sure?” Toby asks, looking up at him puzzled. Muriel nods.

“Just…don't tell the others.” Especially Julian, who was about as discreet as a bull in a china shop. If Julian found out, the entire masquerade would probably end up becoming a birthday party for Muriel. “Except Asra.”

Toby nods. “Okay then. The day can just be the three of us and then we can go to Nadia’s shindig.” He smiles brightly up at his partner. “C’mon. Race you back.”

Toby won, but only because Muriel let him.

The three months fly by, Muriel having forgotten rather quickly that it was approaching. It wasn’t until the morning of the masquerade when a very sleepy Muriel is woken up by Toby crawling over him to escape the bed, groaning when he stands and his back cracks. His hand reaches out to grab Toby’s wrist, tugging him back towards the bed, causing the smaller man to laugh lightly.

“Too early.” He complains, trying to tug him into his arms so the two can lie together for a bit longer, finally succeeding as Toby falls back against him, landing into a tangled pair of limbs on top of Muriel. “Stay.” He grumbles when Toby tries to get out of Muriel’s grip.

Toby laughs, leaning back to press a kiss to Muriel’s cheek. “Love, I have to get up.” He teases, shifting slightly, ignoring how Muriel tightens his hold around him. “C’mon. I wanna get your birthday present.” He pleads.

That gets Muriel’s attention. “Present?” He asks, his eyes cracking open.

“Yeah! Can’t have a birthday without a present!” He jokes, shifting so he’s facing him. “You thought I was joking when I said I was gonna make you something?”

“Thought you’d be my present.”

Toby’s eyes glint slightly, a small blush on his cheeks. “I know I’m a gift to humanity, but trust me when I say that you’ll love what I’ve made.”

“I love everything you make.” Toby’s cheeks grow redder, much to Muriel’s amusement. “Cute.”

“Hush.” Toby leans up to kiss his lips. “Lemme go get it.”

Muriel groans like it's the most painful thing in the world to let Toby go, but does it regardless as he watches him shuffle off towards his crafting box, bringing out something soft-looking wrapped in green paper, passing it over to him with a smile. “Happy birthday, bub.” He kisses Muriel’s cheek as he sits next to him.

Muriel carefully opens up the present before staring down at the soft material in his hands. The yarn matches the same colour as his scarf, the one Toby got him the first time they went to the market together. God, that felt like forever ago and yet both of them could remember it as if it was yesterday. When he picks it up, he realises quickly what it is.

A sweater.

He looks up at Toby slightly confused. “Well. It’s getting to winter. And you only wear that cloak and it's not that warm…So. Sweater.” Toby explains quietly.

Muriel smiles before pulling Toby in for a hug, his heart slightly warmer than it was a few seconds ago. “Thank you.” He says quietly.

Toby hugs back tightly, moving to press a kiss to his cheek. “Anytime. Happy birthday, my love.” He snickers when Muriel’s cheeks glow a faint pink.

The rest of the morning ends up in a haze. Asra ends up dropping by, bringing lunch for the three of them to enjoy before they all head to the palace, Nadia insisting that they all get ready there. Muriel and Toby are pulled away from each other in order to get ready, much to Muriel’s annoyance.

He is all but shoved into the bathroom to bathe and prepare for the evening, his clothes laid out for him on the seat next to the sink. An almost identical set of clothing from the first masquerade, and if Muriel was honest, he doesn’t even care enough to notice the difference besides the fact that this time, he has pockets. A little more practical. The main difference is his mask, the bear now a deep brown colour with embellishments in a dark green and bright golden paint. If he was honest, he didn’t mind it.

Hours felt like days when he was preparing, but the moment he was thrown into the ballroom without Toby by his side, surrounded by people? Time never moved so slow. Asra slides up next to him to keep him company, keep him distracted, but Muriel’s eyes never stop moving as he scouts out his partner.

When he saw him, he couldn’t help the small smile that appeared on his face.

Toby walks out, talking to Julian and Portia with a wide grin lighting up his entire being. He looks stunning. His dark navy dress was embedded with small silver dots, clearly to represent the starry nights that he loved so much, his skirts falling to his knees before the back cascades down to his ankles, flowing gently against his skin. His curls frame his face, the rest of his hair pulled up into an intricate style at the back of his head. The mask that covers the upper part of his face is painted to look like a nebula, a mix of bright and dark colours swirled against the smoothen wood.

Muriel was gobsmacked at how stunning his partner was, Nadia’s seamstress really outdone herself this time. He goes to approach him, only for Toby to see him first and make his way over to him. “Hello stranger.” He teases, leaning up to press a kiss to his cheek, thumbing away the red mark his lipstick leaves behind. “You look handsome.”

He feels his cheeks warm up as he stammers out his thanks. “You look good too.”

Now it’s Toby’s time to blush, his smile turning slightly bashful as he looks away. “Thanks. Dia’s team did wonders.” Muriel wants to protest, and tell him that he always looked good in his eyes. The music slowly starts to pick up as people start to dance, Toby sliding his hand into Muriel’s and squeezing tightly as they watch from the sidelines, knowing that Muriel wouldn’t be keen to dance in such a large group of people. “Happy birthday, M.”

He hums in response, his gratitude evident in his tiny response.

The pair stay close together throughout the entire night, Toby even managing to smuggle Muriel away to somewhere quiet where the pair waltzed to their own tune Muriel hums under his breath. Eventually, the night starts to draw to a close, at least for the two introverts trying their best to keep to themselves, Toby and Muriel make their way back into the main ballroom to say goodnight to everyone when they notice Julian, clearly many Salty Bitters in, on top of a table - much to the annoyance and embarrassment of Portia, Asra and Nadia who are attempting to pull him down onto the ground.

His voice echoes through the room, face lighting up when he notices the pair having walked in. "Ladies and gentlemen, esteemed guests, may I have your attention?" He beams at the audience, hushed to a gentle murmur, and Toby’s stomach drops when he pieces together his plan as he pinches the bridge of his nose through his mask. Of course Julian would make a scene. How he found out was a mystery to Toby.

"As you're all aware, we've been invited here tonight to celebrate the progress we've made on the aqueduct system; by this time next year, we should have the Flooded District completely restored!" There's light applause and a few cheers, and his smile hitches mischievously as his eyes seek Toby and Muriel out. "However, what you may not know is there is another reason to celebrate! My friends, today is-"

His sentence was cut short by a serving platter, flung from the audience, smashing into his face and knocking him backwards off the table he was parading on, straight into Portia’s laps. The grin on her face was infectious as she holds back her giggles, Nadia stepping up to perform damage control, sending Muriel and Toby a small smile as she masks her amusement.

Toby bumps next to Muriel. “Didn’t know your aim was that good.” He teases.

Muriel snorts. “Wasn’t me.” The small smile on his face tells Toby otherwise.

“Mhm.” He simply says. “Sure.”

“Can’t prove anything.” That has Toby in peels of laughter, Muriel’s smile turning into a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it smirk, just as Asra and Portia struggle to carry the very intoxicated, pouting Julian, now holding his throbbing head, out of the ballroom and towards his room for the evening.

Eventually, Toby pulls himself together, wiping away his tears before placing his hand in the crook of Muriel’s elbow. “Home? Before someone else outs today to the rest of the city?” He jokes. Muriel is quick to take Toby up in his offer, getting to the exit of the palace before looking down at Toby’s attire. Not exactly something practical to be walking in the forest with. He doesn’t even think twice, leaning down to pick his partner up before he starts to walk along the beaten track with practiced ease.

Toby lets out a small squeak of surprise. “I can walk on my own ya know!” He protests weakly.

“You don’t walk in heels.” Is his only excuse, knowing to be a good one. Toby rarely wore heels and even when he did, he could only walk on flat surfaces with ease. He had already rolled his ankles three times since leaving the palace, something Muriel had noticed but did not comment on in order to protect Toby’s pride. But, they were alone now. It really shouldn’t matter.

Toby grumbles before leaning in against Muriel. “Fine. But only because it’s your birthday.” Muriel’s barely there smile returns as Toby reaches up to press a kiss to his jaw, pulling back just in time to cover up his yawn.

Whether it was the gentle movements of Muriel carrying him up the path, or just being exhausted from planning the day and spending an extended amount of time around a large group of people, it wasn’t long before a gentle snore falls out past Toby’s lips as he sleeps peacefully in Muriel’s arms. Muriel can’t help but find the sight adorable beyond belief, and when he gets back to their hut, he can’t bring himself to wake the boy up. With Inanna’s help, Muriel gets the door open and slowly moves to place Toby on top of the bed, peeling off his shoes to place them by the door with their masks being placed on Toby’s crafting box. Muriel climbs in beside him, Toby turning and moving towards him as if he was a magnet, wrapping his arms around Muriel with a satisfied hum.

“Good night, Toby.” Muriel murmurs, pressing his lips against Toby’s forehead as Inanna attempts to crawl her way onto the bed over the pair’s legs. It’s not long before the small family of three are all sleeping peacefully in their own private haven.

Maybe, in future birthdays, Muriel would be able to convince Toby to spend the day doing exactly this.

[shortondopamine-blog]

may 27, 2017

8:13 pm

my grandma died two days ago.

she likes the beach, cooking, talking on the phone with her friends, visiting her friends, being independent, wearing fuzzy socks, spending time with family, praying, going to mass, eating fruit, and she loves babies.

she’s very mini, not even up to my chin. i’d say probably 4′10″? every time i saw her she seemed to shrink. she swings her arms when she walks, and she’s always bustling around. her nose forms a little mushroom on her face. her hair isn’t all white, and she doesn’t dye it. it’s mostly black, and then a little bit of salt and pepper and then there’s some white. she laughs at her skin when you pull it up on the back of her hand and it takes a couple seconds to drop down again. she eats the leftovers and anything anyone doesn’t want, and when people ask if it’s safe to eat she says, “doesn’t matter, i’m old anyway” and laughs. she doesn’t have cancer or any sickness, she is prone to strokes but she hasn’t had one in a while.

she’s always cold, always asking if me and my siblings have eaten and if we say yes she suggests we eat more, she fondly judges us when we eat something that isn’t the highest quality (because her cooking is the best), she’s always cooking in bulk, she always cooks a ton of food and puts it into containers before she leaves so that we can have leftovers, she always makes the meals me and my siblings like, she adjusts traditional recipes to fit either my nut allergy or my family’s preferences, she’s always getting phone calls, she never says goodbye on the phone, she’s always so so happy to be carrying a baby.

she doesn’t speak english well but she understands it, and can speak it if she needs to. she can always tell if i’m ranting about something to my brother or if i’m crying about something she asks me if i’m okay and is there for me, always wants the best for me. i remember crying because of a girl at school and she instantly was there for me and couldn’t believe what i was dealing with and then wanted to have a word with the girl, wanted to talk to her mom. she sits on the couch sometimes to watch tv with me and my brother and sister even if she doesn’t understand, she’s just there. one time when we were watching mulan she pointed at the guy with the tall blue hate and said “i hate him.” and another time when we were watching harry potter there was a scene with a spider and she was like “oh.. oh my.. OH that’s enough i don’t like this” and stood up and bustled away. for a summer me and my siblings were obsessed with watching cake boss and then when she went home again to san jose we watched a little but stopped, and then a couple months later we picked it up again just as a throwback. and it happened to be when she was visiting us again and she laughed and said “you guys are still watching that show?” and we all laughed and explained.

she’s always so proud to tell her friends about us, to introduce us and when we speak in vietnamese her face beams. when my siblings and i sing together she’s so happy. she’s always so proud of us when we play the piano, when we get honors at school or when we sing, even though it’s not unusual for us.

she used to not like my dog, saying that she, a rescued and formerly abused maltese poodle with only one ear and so she runs a little lopsided, would bite us or hurt us. and now whenever she reads or prays on the couch she always waits for belle (my dog) to jump up and lay next to her. she’s always feeding belle human food, meat she knows that she’ll like even though she shouldn’t and she’ll get chubby. she always says good night to her, and talks to her in vietnamese saying “she that? she understands vietnamese.”

every night she says good night to my and my siblings, but it doesn’t sound like good night she says “nigh...” because she can’t pronounce night. and she opens up her arms for a hug and we always stoop down to hug her because she’s so mini.

when she stands next to her grandsons, the ones who are grown and past college, she doesn’t even reach their shoulders. when she stands next to the four of them she’s more than a head shorter.

she always welcomes my friends and makes them food, trying to be aware that they aren’t used to vietnamese food and learned american and mexican recipes to be able to make food they would wanna eat. and she always gets so happy when she makes something vietnamese and my friends love her food. she remembers them and says like “o i met you” and “o i remember you.” my friends love her too, say that she’s the cutest lady they’ve ever met and that they could fit her into their pocket. she really is so mini.

she’s the strongest lady i know, who lost her husband 42 years ago and took her all her kids across the pacific from vietnam to america, alone. who in her life experienced three of her six children and one of her grandchildren dying. who, no matter what financial state her family was in, always ensured that they had enough food to eat and were safe. who gave my momma the opportunity to go to school and she went to stanford, and she met my dad and because of her, i am alive and have siblings and have met all of the people in my life. 

there were times when i took her for granted. no i didn’t feel completely safe when driving in the car with her, yes sometimes she interrupted me when i was speaking, and yes there were times when i wished she wouldn’t pry. but now i realize she never did. she just wanted to make sure i was okay. she picked the peanuts out of this peanut, soy (type of rice), and meat dish just because i don’t like the peanuts - i’m not even allergic. that’s like picking the almonds out of an entire bag of trail mix. 

she calls me beautiful at the most random times. like i’ll be eating and she’ll be looking at me and then she just says “you’re so cute” in vietnamese, everything she says is in vietnamese, and she loves my curly hair. she loves it when i straighten it too but she says the curls are so beautiful. she lets me wear whatever makeup i like but she always calls me beautiful no matter how much or little makeup i’m wearing. she hems my dresses, sews back buttons on my blouses that popped off, hems my brother’s pants. when she walks into my room and it’s a mess she says to my brother “it’s like something blew up in there.” she peels oranges and then cuts out the seeds, and then she peels back the thin white skin on each piece just because i don’t like it. i’ll eat it, but i don’t enjoy it. i’m not a picky eater, she just always wants the best for me and to match my more specific preferences.

she kisses my sister’s ashes and says a prayer every time she visits my house.

she loves me and my family and all her grandbabies and friends and family unconditionally. she’d visit her friend who had dementia every day just to talk to her and keep her sane. she loves those flowers that smell like vanilla. her friend grows them, and friend always gives them to her and my grandma puts them in a little sauce bowl next to all her framed pictures of family and friends. even when the flowers die, they smell nice. she puts them in her car, too. when she moved closer to my house she’d always invite my siblings and i over for a sleepover. and we did once, and i’m so glad we did. she and my brother went to sleep early but i stayed up all night on the phone with my friend. my friend met her, and he adores her too. 

i love her. i lover her and i don’t believe that she’s gone. she got to say goodbye to everyone in her life. for two weeks she travelled around the world. her last time back to vietnam, then she spent some time on the east coast and she just attended my uncle’s wedding, where she saw more people. at these times, she was able to say goodbye to people without anyone - ever her - knowing it was goodbye forever. that’s probably the best. then there’s no gloominess or a foreshadowing weight. she got to say goodbye.

i love her. i do. and i still catch myself referring to her in the present tense. i don’t believe that she’s gone i feel like she’s gonna appear at my house again with so many groceries and she’ll cook something delicious, and she’ll fold my laundry and she’ll be downstairs reading or praying or talking on the phone. i know she’s dead and i don’t feel like i’m still in denial, but i just don’t believe that she’s gone.

i love her. i didn’t get to fully appreciate her until recently, to tell her all the time that i love her.

i love her.