#i want to see mr black grocery store products

[allmyandroids]

[juvenillia]

~ happier ~ Simon 'Ghost' Riley x fem!reader [hurt/comfort oneshot]

summary: After Simon already had lost so much in life, he now had lost the last thing that kept him whole. Little did he know...

a/n: Hey babes, I just saw a tiktok sound about the "don't choose him"-trope and I thought that was so Simon Riley coded so yeah, here we go

cw/tw: mentions of trauma, death, jealousy, guilt, hurt/comfort, tooth rotting fluff, break up, happy ending

worcount: 5.9k (maybe I got a bit carried away lol)

》 Read on AO3 《 》Master Post《

It was a rather rainy September afternoon, the cold breeze brushing through his messy blonde hair as he stood in front of his apartment complex. The taxi just dropped him off a while ago, and since then he stood there. Starring at the entry, his hand clutching tight on his duffel bag. With a deep sigh his hand brushed through his damp hair while he inhaled the fresh autumn air through the simple black mask before finally stepping in. He didn’t want to come back. He didn’t want to leave but Price literally chased him away this time. The team just came back from a long deployment from God knows where, and he wanted to stay at base. Taking care of the aftermath as usual, but this time his Captain didn’t keep up with his coping mechanism and ordered him to go on leave.

He hadn’t set a foot in his apartment in the past nine months. Nine months filled with hard and bone crushing work to distract himself. Distracting himself from the void that washed over him as soon as the door behind him fell into the lock. He placed his bag onto the floor of his hallway when he saw the huge stack of mail behind the door. Invoices, advertisement, acknowledgements, all that kind of stuff. He didn’t even mind to flip through the envelopes, just threw them onto the kitchen counter. His place felt so different, nearly chaotic.

The plants died some time ago, nothing more than dry remnants in some soil. He opened the fridge, which was nearly as empty as this whole space felt like. A thick layer of dust covered everything. Another sigh left his throat before he pushed the crystalline door to the little balcony open, fished in his pockets for a fag. Pulling his mask down to ignite the cigarette. His glance wandering over the park next to the building. All the trees already wore a dress out of red and yellow leaves which danced in the wind. He could hear some children playing down there, some dogs barking. Somehow everything felt so at peace and still he felt nothing more than blank. He felt like a stranger in his own home.

He put the fag out and decided to tidy the mess up, before distracting him with whatever task he could find. He started with cleaning the whole place, disposing the dead plants and expired food he found in the last corners of the fridge. It took him some hours before everything was all over neat again. He then changed in some casual clothes before walking down to get some groceries for the time he had to stay here now. Always checking his phone for a message from Price, or Gaz or Soap. Anything that could make him return to his duties. Anything that would release him from the thoughts that started to haunt his mind. Thoughts he could easily dismiss as soon as he was on duty. When he was Ghost, but not when he was here.

“Mr. Riley?”, the old man from the store greeted him. He nodded in response, tired and exhausted eyes, yet a sincere smile on his lips. “Good to see you again, son.”, he chimed while starting to scan his products in. There was a huge supermarket around the corner, still he would always walk the extra meters to that indigenous small store owned by that old couple. “Haven’t seen you in forever. Must be happy to be back.”, Simon only nodded. A straightforward lie, but he didn’t need to tell him about the truth. He hated to be back.

Because everything was different to the last time. The last time he walked down this street he laughed while you complained about your coworkers. Clutching to the bag filled with the ingredients for some homemade cookies, and your favorite ice cream, while your hand was wrapped around his upper arm. When did all that changed? When did the world turned against him once more? That’s how he found himself walking that usual path back on his own. Left alone with the sheer thought of you, and once more his mind did haunt him. Replaying the image of the face when you told him over and over again in front of his inner eye.

But he understood your decision. He knew he was wrong for you, that you deserved so much better. He knew that he had ruined an angel. All the time waiting for him, just to be put down once more, when he couldn’t return home just yet. All the anxious calls before the deployment. The number of desperate messages he went through when he could turn his phone on again afterwards. All the tears you wasted for him. He just knew he would never be the man you needed, because you were so much better than him. And still he wanted nothing more than to be selfish and return home to you once more. The way his shitty apartment felt so much livelier filled with your laughter and complains. A privilege he had lost.

He remembered the day you told him about your decision like he remembered his morning drill at base. You mascara already smudged over your tear-stained face. He had promised to never be the cause of your crying and still he stood in front of you, feeling nothing more than hate towards himself, when you told him you couldn’t go on like this. “I love you, Si. I do… but sometimes love isn’t enough…”, your words echoed through his mind as he stood in the living room. Just on the same spot he stood on that fateful day. “What’d ya mean?”, he didn’t understand. “I mean… that I can’t be part of your life when you keep building walls around you.”, your voice was shaky between the sobs that broke out of your throat. “Wait... Love…”, his hands were nonstop shaking, something so uncommon for his so usual steady hands. Hands that were reaching out to you when you literally flinched away from him.  “I hope you can become happy. I really wish you all the best…”, the tears started to stream down your face as you picked up the bag, filled with the last few things of yours that still remained in his place. “I’m thankful for everything we had…and I hope you know that you’ll always be a part of me.”, you didn’t dare to look at him as you left his -your shared- place.

How was he supposed to be happy when you took all the crazy little things that made his life better with you? Anytime his phone buzzed that night his heart stopped for a moment, hoping that you changed your mind, but now you already left his life for more than eleven months. He sunk into the couch, just like that evening. Not daring to move an inch. Even if all fibers in him screamed to run after you, he sat there frozen. Respecting your decision and knowing it was for the best. It was the best for you, and he never wanted anything less than the very best for you. Even if it meant to break him once more. This evening was the loneliest night after the night when he lost his family. That night he lost the last thing that gave him a meaning. The last thread that hold his pieces together.

He pulled his phone out of his pocket and opened your chat. The last message still there, about eleven months ago. A bone crushing reminder of when you left his life. Just then he took noticed of your new profile picture. The pure soul you were, you hadn’t blocked him. He tapped it open and could feel his heart ache as he took in your features, a bright smile. A smile that had him mesmerized from the first time he witnessed it. Your hair neatly done and braided with a flower crown made from white roses. Your hand trying to cover your gorgeous smile. Then he suddenly took notice of something new. His heart clenched at the view of the little simple silver band around your left ring finger. A groan vibrated in his stomach. He stared at the picture, as a rope laced around his throat. It couldn’t be. He just cursed to himself.

He just wished it wasn’t true, but it just made sense. During the times when he raised his walls higher and higher you simply turned around to see the whole world and not only him. And there was someone that could treat you better than he ever could. That there was someone who would share his life with you rather than shutting you out. Someone who wouldn’t treat you as shitty as he did. Someone who wouldn’t take you for granted. Someone who wouldn’t make you cry, and still he wanted to be the person to call you his. He wanted that this smile, the smile that could brighten the darkest day, was aimed at him and not just some random dude.

He needed to make sure. Sitting up from the couch while leaning his forearms on his knees as he switched from the message app to his private Instagram account. An account Kyle forced him to create after one night in the pub. On that night when Simon maybe drunk a bit too much, he eventually had let slipped that he did meet you and Kyle was all alerted to get this to workout. So of course, he needed an Instagram account to seem more likable. And to be honest, Simon wanted to be likeable, for the first time he did care what someone would think of him. As long as that somebody was you.

The next morning he decided to go for a run and ran a few kilometers around the quarters. Longer than usual, but it wasn’t like he had anything better to do. All sweaty he stopped by a common coffee shop to get a well-made coffee before returning home. Just when he waited in line for him to order, he pulled his phone out once more. Starring at your name in his contacts. ‘Love’ was still written there. He never brought himself to change it. Because you still were the only thing, he ever admitted to truly love. He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn’t notice a voice approaching him. Just as he felt a small hand gently on his clothed shoulder he flinched, looking up and were greeted with some way too familiar eyes. He blinked a few times, believing his mind would trick him right now.

His account didn’t contain many pictures, a few from nice landscaped taking from the different countries he had to visit, one of Riley and him, what served as your screensaver for a very long time. Well not anymore, he supposed. He searched for your tag, and he scrolled through the last pictures you uploaded. Nowhere was a hint of a new guy in your life. Except for the picture of your engagement ring and the dozen words of congratulations the comments contained. Some pictures of the recent books you read always placed aesthetical next to a cup of tea, a picture of you and your girls on a night out.

He just stopped when he saw a familiar picture. It was nothing more than you curled up in an armchair, wearing a black hoodie, his hoodie. You haven’t deleted it. He was still part of your life, as you had promised. You didn’t just delete him out of it. He pinched the bridge of his nose when he put his phone away. Fighting the urge to write you. But what should he even message you? Everything would be inappropriate and wrong. That it was his biggest mistake to let you go? That he was happy for your engagement? Nothing would satisfy his real emotions. He pushed all of those thoughts, all the pain down just like he was used to and let Ghost take over his mind. Cutting out everything around him, as his body forced him to rest. A dreamless night on the couch and still he felt miserable the next morning.

“Si?”, you smiled at him, as beautiful as ever and he stood there completely stunned. You still called him that sweet nickname, the short only you were allowed to use. “Hey…”, he breathed out while shoving his phone back into his pocket. Leaving his hands in his pockets, to scared you could see how nervous he was. Seemed like that he was so lost in his thoughts that he didn’t realize he jogged all the way to the place you worked back when you two dated, and as it seemed like you still do work here. There was a silence clinging between both of you, while taking in each other. He looked tired, somehow older you noticed. You looked as pretty as he remembered. “Sir?”, the voice of the young barista dragged him back to the place he stood. “Yeah…uhrm.”, he ordered his usual coffee, and quickly added another hot drink – your favorite - before turning back to you.

“How are ya?” – “How are you?”, both of you said at the same time and a little smile tugged at the corner of his lips. All of that felt so familiar, and still vicious at the same time. But sorrow was something Simon was used to it, and if this pain granted him some time in your presence, he’d gladly accept it. “Wanna take a seat, or are ya on the run?”, you smiled at him and shook your head no, while taking a place at one of the tables. A table you often sat when he visited you during your work breaks. “So, how are you?”, you said calm, while sipping on your coffee. A weak smile playing around your lips when you realized that he even remembered the little flavor drop you loved in it.  

You had such a pure soul that you simply could sit down with him and talk to him, like he wouldn’t be your ex. Just as some good old friends catching up. It broke his heart even more. “Steady.”, he answered somehow distant. Trying to suppress all the emotions that started to boil in the pit of his stomach at your sight. You nodded with that sweet smile he knew too well, “Always the same, huh?” He nodded and at the same time he wanted to argue that he wasn’t the same. Not at all. “So, when’s ‘e big day?”, his sudden question let you swallow on your drink. He pointed at the ring on your finger, and you sighed. “Saturday, in two weeks.”, you only said. There laid something between your tone he couldn’t read, so he only nodded once more. “Didn’t ya wanted a white winter wedding?”, he kept the eye contact when you tried to avoid it at all costs. “Cannot have everything.”, you weakly laughed. A laugh that had hidden so much more below the surface. Simon caught how your voice changed and your hands constantly fidgeted with the cup, but he didn’t want to push it any further. The silence once more taking over the space between you. It was an awkward tension laying in the air. Still, he wanted to ask you so much, wanted to tell you so much, yet he couldn’t.

That’s when your phone went off, a sigh of relief but at the same time annoyance left your throat. “Sorry… need to head back. Before…” – “Before Mara lets the printer explode and Barry loses his mind.”, he ended your sentence and a vicious smile tugged at your lips. How could he still remember all those things. “Yeah… it was nice to see you, Si. Thanks for the coffee.”, the painful smile turning into a genuine one. He hummed in appreciation, as you stood up and putting the phone back into your pocket.

Just then he reached out to you to get hold of your wrist, gently but firm, just when you wanted to walk away. “Don’t marry him…” The phrase left his throat out of nowhere. His mouth faster than his brain could even process what he just said. He couldn’t carry this anymore, he let you go once, he wouldn’t commit to the same mistake a second time. You blinked at him in sheer shock. “Don’t do that to me…”, you shook your head, swallowing a thick lump in your throat. “Are ya happier?”, he breathed out, his tone bitter as his eyes starred into yours. Your brows furrowed. He knew how selfish his actions were, but he couldn’t help it. His thumb slowly stroking over the inside of your wrist. He needed to know. Only then he could accept it, only then he could try to let you go. “Simon…”, you mumbled, as your lips pressed into a thin line, biting the inside of your cheek.

“Answer me, love.”, his words rolled so carelessly over his lips. You couldn’t. Only starring back into those dark eyes that wouldn’t let go of yours, and felt tears prick at the corner of your own. Everything you could answer him, everything you wanted to answer him would somehow be a lie. You were happy, but that wasn’t his question, and he could read it in your eyes. He let go of your wrist, as he stood up from his seat. He would never force you to say or do something, he couldn’t make you love him. He knew that. But the soldier inside of him knew, that this fight wasn’t over. The way your eyes spoke volumes to him. The way he could feel your pulse quickened as his palm was still rested on your skin. A desperate sigh left his throat. Your silence told him more than you thought. “I’d walk through ‘ell to find a way to keep ya in ma life. Even if it meant to burn the whole bloody world down…”

You only stood there, your mind running a marathon of thoughts at the sincere words he spoke out so easily. A phrase that let your heart make a jump and at the same time it shattered. You averted your gaze, trying to hold back the tears. “Goodbye, Si.”, you simply stated while turning on your heel. You didn’t want to cry in front of him again. You didn’t want to admit what power he still held over you. You didn’t want to show him how you lied to yourself when trying to avoid answering his questions. That way you left him behind and went back to work. And once more he felt the sheer guilt laying on his shoulders. He didn’t see the hot tears rolling down, but he knew you too well. The empty silence greeted him like an old friend, and he went back to his place. Cursing himself for the whole interaction. Why couldn’t he just let you go? Why couldn’t he simply let you become happy? It should be enough for him, seeing you happy living the life your deserved and he would go after his drilled one, just like before.

But nothing was like before. You simply changed everything. He was a broken man when you met him on that cold night in January. Effortlessly trapping him in a lovely chat, a conversation that saved him, and still he tried to keep his distance. And you had nothing better to do than picking up all the pieces and built him back together. So much effort, so much energy and so much love you spent for him. Earning his trust and giving him a place for his soul to heal and rest. Creating him a place to call home. How couldn’t he hold on to what you had provided him with? Still, he was back in his apartment alone with his demons, and they teared him apart worse than ever. So he decided to send a message to his captain.

Simon R. [15:23]

Let me come back. I’m sure there’s something I can help with.

Captain Price [16:01]

No chance, Lieutenant. Use the time reasonably.

Captain Price [16:03]

That’s an order!

He literally threw the phone across the room. How should he use this time useful? Price should’ve known better. Simon thought back to the day when he told his captain about you for the first time, and he remembered the proud beam on his face. You were the first civilian Simon even mentioned around his team, you were the first one to meet them. So, Price knew that this time was nothing more than waiting in patience to return. But somehow his captain hoped for something different, he couldn’t have known that you were engaged and this time on leave was breaking him more than anything.

Simon R. [16:06]

Roger, sir.

There was nothing he could do, besides going after his usual habits. Morning runs, hitting the gym, cooking some quick meals, helping whatsoever neighbor needed something done in their home. Everything that would keep him busy was greatly appreciated.

The time passed by, and every night he found himself on the balcony. Thinking back to nights he spent here with you. You cuddled up in front of him, while he refused to smoke while you’d cuddle and you’d always just say, that you wouldn’t leave, so he rather just smoked if he wanted to or stop it in general. You never complained about his smoking, but you would keep teasing him about it and he would just pull you closer to him. He didn’t need those cigarettes when he could inhale your scent anyways.

Where did the downward spiral begin? When did he start to distant himself without even noticing it? Was it after the Las Almas incident? Was it after his teammate nearly died because of him? Was it when he realized that one day, he might not be able to return to you? He couldn’t tell and he tried to make it out eagerly. Searching and scanning in all your interactions for the mistakes he committed. Nightmares haunted him night after night and every day he got up and went after his choirs again. Waiting for a message from Price to draft him in sooner than expected. To finally get some redemption before the two-week mark was overstepped. He couldn’t bear that day, knowing what happened on that Saturday. Knowing that on this Saturday you’d be officially off limits, and he wouldn’t dare to ruin it anymore. This Saturday… this Saturday. Fuck, it was today.

Anyways he dared to look up your social media, seeing if he could catch a glimpse of the pure perfection you’d be in your pretty white dress. But there was nothing found. What wasn’t so unusual, you never were the person to openly show your life online so easily. Especially not after the two of you started dating. You became more reserved with information about yourself because Simon would always be scared that someone could use you against him. That way there was never a picture of both of you found on your social media pages. Just a little S with a heart in your bio. A bio that was nearly empty now. But today, you’d post something, he was sure. That day was something so freaking special, you needed to show the world how gorgeous you’d look. And with that you would show him what he had lost. But somehow you spared him with that. It was already noon, and nothing was found on your page. That’s how he went after his day, completely lost and in complete autopilot. Not even thinking about anything he did. Just existing, his body carrying him through the day and letting the time pass.

It was about nine when he got on the balcony. Still in his dark green pajama pants, and a plain white shirt, an easy black zip up jacket. No socks, no mask, only a fag between his lips. Exhaling a deep cloud of smoke into the night. Just then he could hear a buzzing from the living room. He sighed, another cloud of smoke leaving his lungs. Probably only a dumb meme from Johnny, an attempt to cheer him up, but maybe it was the long-awaited message from his Captain. So, he decided to head in, to pick up his phone. The fag still clutched between his lips. He tapped the screen of his phone and as soon as the screen light up he found himself paralyzed. The fag slipping out from his lips, which were parted in shock. The cigarette burning his hand dragged him back into the reality. He quickly caught the fag before burning the whole place down, and then opened the message. The message that came from you. His mouth went completely dry as stared down on the words.

He read over those lines over and over, he couldn’t get a grip what you wanted to tell him. What made you think of that occasion now?

Love [21:13]

Do you remember when Johnny bragged about that one French wine after Mel dumped him, and we spent your last day on leave driving from Manchester to Edinburgh picking him up, over to Dover just to catch a ferry to buy that stupid wine and the whole way back? Just that you got deployed to Toulouse afterwards and he could drink so much of that damn wine…

Simon R. [21:21]

Could never forget about it. It was bloody stupid.

A desperate chuckle left his throat. It was one of his favorites as well. The way you’d sing stupid songs with Johnny to sheer him up, trade dumb childhood stories, and the way your hand was always entangled with his. It made the world seem so much more peaceful.

Love [21:23]

One of my favorite memories, tbh

Simon R. [21:25]

What made you think of that? Especially today…

He sighed. He couldn’t suppress the turns his stomach took. Still, he couldn’t blame you, such a day could get someone emotional and nostalgic. It was somehow relatable. He already regretted his question.

Simon R. [21:26]

You must be tired as fuck after such a long day.

Love [21:32]

Well… I did imagine the day to be different…

Time suddenly froze. The little three dots signaling your typing made him anxious. He starred down at the screen, the fag long forgetting, the ash on the anyhow ugly carpet. His foot bounced repeatedly on the floor, while he not dared to avert his eyes. The time until your answer plopped up on his screen felt unbearable. His chest heavy like he had to carry a whole tank. He felt weak, small, just because of the time you needed to answer. 

Simon R. [21:33]

What do you mean?

Love [21:47]

Couldn’t do it…

His chest heaving as he starred at your answer. His trembling fingers typed and answer. Never letting go of the phone as he already pulled on some socks, before searching for his boots.

Love [21:48]

It wasn’t fair…not to me, but esp not to him…

Simon R. [21:49]

Where are you?

Love [21:50]

Remember where we met…the park by the cemetery.

Love [21:58]

Si?

And he was. He never was faster seated on his motorbike than now. He drove like a madman. Usually, he would let his thoughts process everything. Outlining a plan before jumping into something, but not this time. Not when he got a second chance right in reach. His mind was blank. The only thought that filled his brain cells were you. And soon he found himself in the park. The park where he met you for the very first time some years ago. The day that changed his life, and it once more gave him the chance to turn it around. His breath got caught right in his throat as he took your figure in.

Simon R. [22:00]

Don’t fucking move. Already on my way.

You were seated at the very first steps of a war memorial. The place where he met you completely random when he paid his tribute to fallen soldiers. An old habit he committed to anytime he returned save. It was snowing like hell, everything was white, just like the dress you wore right now. His feet carried him over to you, as you still looked down on the screen. His eyes were pinned on you, trying to burn this image into his brain and never letting go of it. That’s when you looked up and a tired smile tugged at your lips. He was so underdressed compared to you. Still in those pajama pants, because there was no time to change properly, when you were the most perfect dress, he could’ve imagined you in.

 “You literal broke a few laws while rushing here. Speeding, taking dead ends and stuff. You could’ve taken some more time. You know.”, you said while standing up. A teasing tone laying in your voice. You looked breathtaking, better than his wildest dreams would even allow him to imagine. A smile planted on his lips as he stood right in front of you. “Not a patient person.”, he breathed out while taking his jacket off to wrap it over you. It was still freezing cold, and he saw the goosebumps amongst your skin. “You’re reckless, Simon Riley.”, he came closer, just when you put his hands on his chest. The familiar body warmth creeping up your cold palms. His hands lingering on your waist, as he starred in your eyes and pulled you closer, just the slightest. “And yer stunnin’, darlin’.” A slight blush crept over your face, maybe due the coldness lingering in your muscles, but maybe it was because of him.

You were standing here like the whole opposites you were. He was the stern and strong soldier, casual and reckless. Solid as rock during the heaviest tidal wave. He was your protector. You were his princess with the purest soul and heart. The lighthouse that guided him home anytime he needed. Anytime he needed to let go of Ghost.

In that moment it felt like the world stopped spinning. Nothing else mattered. “Si…” – “I know ’s too much to ask for forgiveness ‘n I know ‘m not in ‘e position to ask for anythin’ at all…and fuckin’ ‘ell. ‘m not good at that kinda stuff…. but…”, before he could keep going you interrupted him. Forcefully pulling him closer to you by his shirt, until the gap between you was fully closed and you felt the familiar sensation of his lips against yours. Your eyes closed, as his calloused palm reached for your face and cupped your cheek as he deepened the kiss.

Just when you tried to pull away, he made sure that you wouldn’t go anywhere. His hand firmly steadying you in your position as he leaned his forehead against yours. Your whiny voice reaching his ears. “Just shut up already and take me home, alright I’m freezing my ass off.” A stupid grin planted on his face, which wouldn’t fade any time soon. “Anythin’ ya want.”, he said while placing his hands around your body before easily lifting you up what earned him a sudden shriek as you clung around his neck. Carrying you bridal style over to his bike. Always having a spare helmet for you in. That’s totally not how you imagined the day you’d first wear a wedding dress, clinging to the beefy back from Simon, one hand holding on to the gathered fabric hoping it wouldn’t cause any accident, the other tightly slung around him while he carefully made his way back. But you couldn’t ask for something more.

It took you some time to completely warm up again, you nearly spent the whole day in that damn park considering if you could just write him or not, and you definitive should’ve done it earlier. The cold clung to your muscles. After taking a hot shower and ditching the dress for an oversized hoodie from his closet and some briefs, you were now curled up in a blanket on the couch. Laying against his firm chest, brawn arms wrapped around you, scared that this could be a dream. Scared that you could vanish any second if he’d let you go. He never stopped to prepper the crown your head with kisses while you twirled his fingers with your own. A genuine silence hanging around that place, that finally felt like home again. Something he’d never let go of again. “To answer your question…”, you broke the silence while tilting your head towards him. Looking in his deep dark eyes. “I am happier now.”, the sweet smile returning to your lips before he placed his onto them. “ ’s everythin’ I could’ve ever asked for, love.”, he breathed out as you parted for a brief moment before closing the gap once more. Right now, he felt like a starved man, but nobody could blame him.

You were the only thing he ever wanted for his own sake. And nobody could blame him, that he already got you a ring himself, about two years ago to be precise, he just never found the right time to drop the big question. But after tonight, he was eager to do so at some point. Just giving the two of you some more time, to get back settled in. But you’d got a lot of time ahead, for anything to work out. Simon made a mental note, that he would never let another man try to accomplish what was his personal lifelong mission; to make you happy.

It was quite late when Simon woke up the next day. You still spread across his chest, clinging onto him, when he remembered how both of you fell asleep on the couch last night. He listened to you little snores as he started to believe, that sometimes the world could be alright. You made it alright, and a smile played along his lips. If enduring all the pain brought him back into your embrace, it would always been worth it. That’s when his phone buzzed, he reached out to grab it, careful to not wake you up.

He hesitated for a short moment, before he pressed the little camera icon on his phone.

Captain Price [12:19]

Maybe I do have a task for you.

Simon R. [12:23]

 image attached

Captain Price [12:25]

Forget about it. See you in two weeks, Loverboy.

Captain Price [12:27]

Give her finally that bloody ring…

Bonus:

John couldn’t suppress a chuckle when he starred down at his phone. The sweetest image plopping up when he shook his head in amusement. And with his reaction he immediately had a specific Scot emerge behind him, starring at the phone over his Captain’s shoulder. A bright grin growing on his face. “Was ‘bout damn time…”, he instantly pulled his own phone out.

Soap [12:31]

istg… Lt if yer choose Garrick as yer best man …

Soap [12:33]

I AM FOR REAL

Soap [12:34]

ach ‘nd tell lass I said hi!!

Soap [12:35]

I’m happy for yer <3

[slasherstories123]

You're "New Beginning" story that you made for me was so beautiful, that I cried. I was hoping maybe when you have the time, you could do a part two? Where the S/O and Vincent date a lot, and that she bought Vincent a new sketchbook and artist pencils.

Bo wanted her back, even though he said it's over, he got bored. Until he caught her actually dating Vincent after he climbed through the window with a small bouquet. The S/O refuses to go back to him of course, she loves Vincent now.

If you don't want to, you can just delete it and ignore it

New begging pt 2

Word count: 1.6k

Tagslist: @dootys @callmemeelah @fluffy-little-demon @mehidktbh @slash3rl0v3r @the-anxious-youth @beanbagbitch @vincent-sinclair-deserved-better @mrs-heelshire @oneofvincentscandles @sleepypersonblog @alexxavicry @beel-mcburger @slasherscrybaby @sadskies @bunnysenpai31 @emychan @pink-apollo @misscaller06 @l0sercat @naxxsstuff @charliedawn

Ever since the break up with Bo, it tore you apart, but his twin was there to bring you back up, you didn’t want to be with Vincent just yet, and he respected that. Waiting for whenever you were ready, when you did, he was happy, Ecstatic. Honestly, he treated you better than Bo did, you two always spent time with each other in the basement where he worked, or crafted. Even teaching you a few drawing skills. Mainly, you’d watch him draw or paint, always putting his hair in a braid or ponytail so no art products would get in it. He was grateful for it, grateful to have you for himself. You were happier with Vincent. Compared to Bo, he’s sweet and gentle.

Since Lester came to town, you decided to get groceries and other items from stores, thanking Lester for taking you as you got back home. Waving at the truck pulling off. You put up all the food that belonged in the cabinets and fridge, leaving a certain bag out. Black hair tickled your neck as you put up cans of soup, giggling to yourself, knowing who it was. “Hello to you too Vince.” Turning around, you hugged your boyfriend. His arms wrapped around you, returning the hug, chin resting at the top of your head. “I got you something,” You pulled away to grab the bag, smiling at the small head tilt he gave you, taking it to see what you got. It was a large sketchbook and sketch pencils. You paid attention to his art supplies, seeing that most of his sketchbooks were filled and the pencils were low.

“I thought you could have a bigger sketchbook, plus it was on sale, made me think of you.”

The man smiled under the mask, gently tilting your head upwards so his masked lips could kiss your forehead, his way of saying thank you. You kissed his mask cheek. “You’re welcome, Vinny.” You took a good look at him, his back was still kinda hunched forward, indicating that he’s been sitting in a chair for hours. He looked sluggish. Tired even. “Is this your first time coming out of the basement since I left?” You cupped his masked face ever so gently. He shamefully nodded, hair tickling your nose, you rubbed it so you wouldn’t sneeze. “Vinny you gotta learn when to take breaks, your health matters.” His soft hands grabbed your wrists, thumbs rubbing against your veins. He understood.You hated it when he didn’t take breaks or would spend up to hours working on art or sculpting figures.

His forehead rested against yours, making you laugh. Looks like he really missed you today. Sounds of plastic filled both of your ears. Vincent turned around to see his twin brother at the door with a bouquet of flowers in his right hand, wearing the blue suit he’d always wear at the church. Tilting his head upwards to look at the two of you. He stood there silent. You had a feeling that you knew what he wanted to say. You whispered to Vincent, giving him the bag and telling him to go downstairs, you’ll meet him down there.

He looked at Bo and complied, nodding his head and leaving. Now that you two were alone, you leaned against the counter and crossed your arms. “Bo?” You spoke. The man took a few steps forward, handing the flowers out in your direction. “I…” He paused, you moved your hand in a way telling him to continue. “I want you back darling.” “I’m not your darling. Not anymore, you had your chance and you blew it. Badly.” He was taken back by the response.

“Come on Y/N don’t be like this…”He took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. Okay?” It was rare for Bo to even apologize at all, so it caught you off guard, only a little. Shaking your head, you pushed the flowers to his chest. “I will accept your apology, but I’m not getting back with you, as you can see, I’m with Vincent, and am much happier with him. Like I said, you had your chance, plus, you were the one that broke up first, remember?”

He didn’t say anything, eyes filled with an emotion you couldn’t describe. Plus, he never acted like he wanted you back until now. It was like he didn’t care at first, but got bored. You weren’t gonna make that mistake. He might do the same things again, you weren’t going to fall for it.

“So, you can take those flowers, and give it to the next woman that comes to Ambrose, I’m sure she’ll love it like I would’ve done.” You gave him a smile, patting his shoulder, leaving the man alone in the kitchen to pounder in his thoughts. Ever since the breakup things have been weird, especially since you had to stay with Bo in order to play your role in getting the victims to trust you, but after a while everything was fine. You thought he was fine, going back to his old self since he didn’t have to worry about a partner, who knew he'd turn around and try and ask you back despite him breaking up first.

As you left the kitchen, you ran into Vincent, just by his body language, you could tell he was guilty. You sighed. “You heard everything, didn’t you?” He nodded slowly. You hugged him, feeling slight tension be released from your shoulders. “Just know that nothing is going on. I’ll always be with you.” His body slightly tensed up, but hugged you back, Glad that you chose to stay with him. “Now come on, I’d like to see more art you made since I was gone. After that, you’re taking a nap, it looks like you need one.” You could tell he was happy at the sentence, head slowly nodding. Plus, a nap sounds good. Holding your hand to guide you to the basement, where you could praise him for the beautiful art he’s made.

[berberriescorner]

Gang Friend and a Gentleman

Characters: Rio x Black!Reader x Black!OC (older woman of color).

Summary: Not even gon’ hold you, this is random AF. That’s what happens when my imagination runs wild and free. It’s cute, fluffy, and funny. Hope you all enjoy it. Reblogs and feedback would be greatly appreciated💖.

Warnings: Tiny bit of expletives. I’m trying to be a better me, but I just can’t stop cursing 😆. Y’all knew that was coming 😂. Oh, also, if you are a “Karen” please don’t take it personally, it’s just a damn story. That’s about it for the warnings.

Word Count: 1,400+.

Nights like this sometimes made Rio wish he worked a regular 9 to 5. Some stuff went down at the start of his day, which slowed things down with production. It didn’t help that Beth and her ditzy crew were ducking and dodging him. After all this time you would think they’d know to never play with his money. To say Rio was on edge was an understatement.

Now, here he was in the wee hours of the morning sluggishly sifting through the snack aisle of the grocery store. He was exhausted and in a terrible mood given that everyone had been messing things up all day. It also didn’t help that working late put him in the dog house with you. For the fourth night in a row, the left side of the bed was cold as you drifted off to sleep alone.

As if he wasn’t already irritated enough, Rio noticed a group of soccer moms gawking at him. It also didn’t help that he overheard them gossiping about all his tattoos and how he was probably some gang member. They continued to whisper about how it was annoying that he was so attractive. That all his good looks were going to waste.

He contemplated on whether he should mess with them by making them nervous, but before he could decide an older woman of color stepped in, “excuse me Karen one, two, and three! Would you mind getting your items and moving along? This young man would like to shop in peace. I swear, nobody’s ever checking for you pesky women. Yet you’re always up in somebody’s face minding everybody’s business but your own. Get your groceries and stop harassing him, please.”

Huffing and puffing the women grabbed a few things, tossed them into their cart, and moved on. The whole scene that just took place warmed Rio’s heart. Growing up, he had always wanted someone to nurture and look out for him just as this nice lady did.

“Thank you, ma’am. You didn’t have to do that. I'm used to it, so it doesn’t bother me. People gon’ talk regardless. I do appreciate that though. Please, let me pay for your groceries,” he offered as she gave him a warm smile while waving him off.

“Oh, sweetheart, you don’t have to do that. It was a pleasure giving those judgemental women a piece of my mind. We can never just be can we, honey? Do our best to stay to ourselves and that still isn’t enough,” she responded as she struggled to get something off a shelf.

Rio sprung into action, “here let me grab that for you.” He retrieved the items she needed and gently placed them in her cart. “Can I help you with anything else? I really would appreciate it if you would let me pay for your items,” he offered once more.

“No, that’s quite alright, sugar. My husband is working the third shift at his job. I just wanted to pick out a few of his favorite snacks. Gonna take them to him during his lunch break.”

“Oh, so you a real one. I see you holding your man down,” Rio praised her.

“High school sweethearts and married twenty years. Sure do hold him down. Got me a good man,” she boasted.

“Okay, I see you! Let me at least help you load them in your trunk,” he made a counteroffer.

“Now honey, you don’t owe me a thing. Anybody decent and kind would’ve done the same thing. I’ll tell you what you can do for me. Let me get all up in your business for a moment. Mind if I ask a nosey question,” she asked with a bright smile.

“Go right ahead, Mrs?”

“Mrs. Jensen.”

“Ask me anything you’d like, Mrs. Jensen.”

“Now baby, I’m married, but I ain’t blind. Also noticed that wedding ring. What is a good lookin’ young man such as yourself doing out at this time of night? Where is wifey? Being out at these hours with that handsome face ain’t gon’ do nothing, but get you in trouble,” she teased.

“Thank you for the compliment. You have a point. I just got off work, and to be honest, I’m already in trouble. I’ve been coming home late for the last couple of nights, wifey not too happy about that. I run a business. The kind that keeps me out late.”

Rio was trying to hint at his lifestyle without giving away too much information. Ms. Jensen leaned in, “You ain’t gotta explain it to me, baby. Make that money and get it how ya live,” she winked. He couldn’t help but think to himself, who’s dope ass auntie is this? Rio was taken aback and couldn’t help but laugh.

“Well let me stop holding you up. I’m sure you need to get your stuff so you can get home. You’re in enough trouble as it is. Baby, you should’ve gone home and had your groceries delivered tomorrow,” she joked.

“Naw, I need this stuff tonight. I was hoping I could find all my baby’s favorites. Distract her with food so she won’t be in too much of a hurry to curse me out for being late again.”

“She’s up waiting for you? Babyyy, she gon’ get you. Not you distracting her with late-night snacks.”

“More than likely she’s been sleeping for a little bit and now she’s up trying to satisfy a craving.”

“She’s pregnant? That’s wonderful! Is it your first?”

“No ma’am.”

“Your second?”

“It’s baby number three for us,” he boasted like a proud father.

“Boy, get them snacks and get on home. Those snacks may not be enough to save you. Then again, y’all on ya third baby so she must be a forgiving woman.”

Rio was about to agree with her as his phone signaled a FaceTime call. You were up hungry, cranky, and very irritated by the fact that he still wasn’t home. He politely paused the conversation to answer your call. All Rio managed to get out was, “Hey mama,” before you started in on him.

“ Bro, am I a single mother now and you just ain’t tell me?”

“What I tell you about that bro shit? Mama, don’t start this nonsense.”

“Start what? I’m just saying. It’s like you don’t live here anymore.”

“Stop being dramatic, ma. You know I work late. Why do we keep having this argument? I’m tired, you’re tired, and we’ve both had a long day. I’ll be home shortly. I stopped to pick you up some food. I knew you’d be hungry by the time I got to the house.”

“Awww baby you stopped to get me food? Well, now I feel like a bitch.”

“What I tell you about calling yourself that? It’s just your hormones, I ain’t gonna take it personally, mama. You want me to stop and get you chicken nuggets and a milkshake too?”

“Yes, and a large fry. Please and thank you, daddy.”

“I got you, sweetheart. Give me ‘bout a half hour. I’ll finish shopping, and help this kind lady carry her groceries to the car. Then I’ll get your food and be headed your way, baby.”

“That’s sweet of you to help with her bags, such a sweet baby daddy. Can’t wait to see you and those bomb-ass chicken nuggets,” you responded now twerking for the camera.

“You can twerk for nuggets but when I ask it’s a problem,” he teased ending the call.

“I see you are not going to give up with these groceries. Let’s hurry and finish so you can feed that pretty lady and that growing baby.

Not only did Rio help Mrs. Jensen to her car, but he also managed to distract her at checkout. By the time she finished asking the store clerk for a price check, Rio had already paid for her groceries.

He would bump into Mrs. Jensen a few more times in the future. They would go on to become like family. Meeting each other’s families with them all merging as one.

I know this was random, but I just had to write it. Hope you liked it my lovelies💕. Don't forget to leave a comment and reblogs are greatly appreciated🥰.

Divider credit: @firefly-graphics

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[xbunny-k]

The Actor & I: PART NINE – The Next Step is… Going to Austin Butler’s House

This is part NINE of a very long, SLOW BURN series on Austin Butler and a Production Assistant on set of Elvis (2022).

Masterlist here!

Anything italicized is main character’s thoughts!

Warnings: Fluff, eventual Spoilers for Elvis (2022), mild language (If i missed anything, please comment so i can add!)

Tags: @manddor @pumkiinpasties​ @its-funny-til-its-not​ @karamelcoveredolicity @butlerstyles @feral4austinbutler @mirandastuckinthe80s @emilykolchivans @atombombbibunny @francescababy @starry-night-20 @yeetfack-blog  (Let me know if you’d like to be added!)

Please, if you like this, share it, comment, like it and enjoy! xx

As I leave the office, I start making a checklist in my head of all the things Austin told me he liked, didn’t care for and where I need to go. First up, I need to go pick up some balloons. Unfortunately, it is so early in the day, I have a limited number of options for balloons, so this means I go to Target and buy some to inflate myself. I pick up a few other things while I’m there and while I’m in line, I remember the most crucial part of my plan…getting Austin’s address. I pull out my phone to text him something that won’t tip off my plan but get the information I need.

“Hiiiya, quick question. Can you send over your address so I can arrange the best way to set up someone to deliver some reels and the projector? :)”

I hit send hoping that won’t be too obvious but seems like something I’d really need to ask. While I’m paying, I feel my phone go off with a text notification. Well, that was fast, Mr. Presley.

As I’m loading up the car, I plan to head out to Erewhon next, a fancy grocery store, to pick up some food, flowers, and a few other things. Before I drive off, I pull out my phone to read the message from the man himself.

“Oh, of course!! You know I can’t wait for this!! Here’s my address, just let me know a time they can drop anything off and I’ll plan to be home. Ana I’m so excited.”

How cute. He really is gonna do everything he can to be the best Elvis. Ana, snap out of this. Be professional. Okay, we have the address. Back to the plan.

I park at Erewhon and grab a cart instead of a basket. Lots to get, but not a lot of time. Let’s do this, Ana. First thing, red grapes, somehow his favorite snack. I also get a few other snacks he mentioned he liked, including 86% dark chocolate, as well as a smoothie he told me was his favorite, the Turmeric Crush. I grab some flowers as well and head to check out.

When I get to the car, I inflate the balloons I bought. Some black and gold balloons, letters that spell out ELVIS in gold and a blue lightning bolt, which doesn’t match, but matches the theme. I decide now is the time to text Austin to see if he’s home before I make the next move in my plan.

“Yessss, thank you. I’ll see if they can drop off some stuff today if you want?”

As I hit send, I see him start typing before I can even lock my phone. Wow, someone is excited. I giggle to myself.

“That would be amazing, I’ll actually be home all day. The gate code is 1214. Ahhh I can’t wait. What a good day.”

What if he doesn’t like this surprise? Should I really get some reels ready? Ahhh. Don’t overthink it Ana, just drop off this surprise and he’ll like it. He’ll get the reels later this week, it’s fine.

I convince myself to just stick to the plan and the next step is… going to Austin Butler’s house. I send him a quick text and let him know someone will drop off a small package in the next hour.

I put the address in my phone’s maps app and head off. I can’t stop fidgeting with the radio and land back on my Elvis Greatest Hits download. “Don’t” by Elvis soon fills my car. “Each time that I hold you this way. When I feel like this, and I want to kiss you. Baby, don't say don't.” This is a great song. I love the way it makes me feel.

As I’m listening to the same song, I realize I’m on his street minutes away and I turn down the music so I’m not hinting anyone is arriving when I pull up. I punch in the gate code, and it opens right up. I’m trying to be sneaky, so I leave my car running while I set up the balloons, gift and smoothie right outside his door. I take a picture of the set up so I can show my boss and then I run to the car. I look back once more to make sure it looks good and I drive off right away.

As I pull out onto the next street, I take my phone out and text Austin so he knows to go outside.

“I think they actually just dropped off at your place. Could you check outside? :)”

A few minutes later, I drive off hoping he goes outside soon so that $12 smoothie doesn’t go to waste. As I’m getting on the freeway, I realize I’m getting a call… from Mr. Presley. Why is my heart racing? This is literally a work relationship, Ana. Relax. Tone it down. Now.

“Hiiiiii,” I whisper as I answer the call. I can hear Austin’s smile through the phone. “I cannot believe you did all this and didn’t stay to see my reaction,” he laughs. “Ana, this is amazing, literally all my favorite things. The red grapes is what tipped me off because you gave me such a hard time about them…for no reason by the way.”

“Aus, red grapes are not the superior grape even. How they could be your favorite fruit makes no sense to me,” I giggle back. “Ana, that giggle…,” he says darkly. What does he mean? He keeps bringing up that I giggle. Is it too much? “I really can’t believe this; this is all so nice. The smoothie is exactly what I needed right now too. Ana, this is so sweet of you.”

I smile to myself. See, of course he liked it!! You were freaking out over nothing, Ana. “I’m so glad you like it. I started doubting myself and got nervous you’d be made the reels didn’t actually get delivered,” I whisper softly. I hear him sigh and he says, “Ana, this was one of the nicest things anyone has done for me. I really love it so much.”

I feel so much better. “Well good, I guess I can say my job is done for the day,” I giggle. “Speaking of, now I have to run back to the office, but I’m gonna call you later just to tell you again… congratulations Aus. You’re really going to be the best, I can’t wait to see you start rehearsing,” I say softly. I can hear Austin smiling through the phone, “Thank you, Ana. I’ll let you get back to work, but I’m definitely waiting for another call back later… Bye Ana,” Austin says.

“Bye Mr. Presley,” I say before hanging up and smiling like a kid. Wow, I really am just so lucky this is somehow my job.

[cherripeach]

Chapter 14

Little Match Maker

Summary: Your life motto is “I have the power of god and anime on my side, don’t mess with me,” and you stand by that with your life. No human, magician, or random creature could ever stop your firm belief in it.

However, getting transported to this world that seemed to turn your already bad luck worse was not what you wanted to be in your life story, but you made the most of it. Making friends, enemies, and disasters, you were in your prime in this world, and so you decided to help as many people as you could flourish, at least what you believed to be.

Chapter 1:11-12 good credit, bad credit, you dead: ghost credit

Running to the store on campus, so cute.

Warnings: Curse words, implied violence

Words: 3.1k

Relationships: developing but future twstxreader

Ace groaned while face planting on the counter, “We finally finished peeling them all!”

Deuce moaned in pain, “My arms hurt…” He, then, stretched his arms and popped some of his knuckles while rolling his neck. 

You agreed with the two boys, “Yeah, I don’t wanna move for the next decade.” You made your seat on one of the stools next to the counter to take a break after standing for what felt like hours. 

Trey chuckled at your reactions, “Great work. I’m sure that your hard work will all be worth it.” While you three were sulking, Trey began cleaning up as much as possible by putting things away and putting things in the dishwasher. 

Grim grumbled, “I’m getting hungry just by the smell, yanno.” The cat had tried to take as much of the ingredients as possible while you were preparing, but barely managed to get any.

Trey took a sheet of paper out from a binder and sorted some of the ingredients next to some cooking utensils, “The marron base uses butter and sugar. And then, I also added some oyster sauce as a secret ingredient.”

Ace and Deuce jumped up from their positions of dread in shock, “Oyster sauce?!”

Trey placed the sheet down and grabbed a bottle of the sauce,  “Exactly. The savory flavor of the chestnuts gives the cream a rich flavor. And then, to make it better, I use this,” He motioned to the sauce in his hand,  “‘Walrus-brand young oyster sauce’.  There’s no famous pâtissière who doesn’t use this for their tarts, you know?” He ended it all with a closed eyed smile. 

Deuce mumbled, “Really…? It’s a pretty salty sauce, isn’t it?”

“You know how they put chocolate in curry, too?” Ace gave an example,  “It kinda makes sense…”

You were,  on the other hand, not having it, “Naw, dude. It doesn't; sweet can't just nullify salt or reverse. It’s practically impossible.” You shook your head while the two idiots were just pouting in their confusion. 

Trey chuckled while clutching his stomach, “You're right! I was just joking! There’s no way I’d put oyster sauce in a dessert, you know? How’d you know?”

The two idiots never would have guessed that. 

Ace’s hand’s shot up in his defense, pointing at his senior, “What the heck!? Are you making fun of us!?”

“It’s obviously impossible if you think about it a little.” Trey’s lighthearted giggle switched to a more wise old lecture, “The moral lesson here is that you shouldn’t believe anything you’re told. Learn to doubt a bit, okay?”

You nodded your head, “See, Ace. I don’t gotta learn that because I knew right away.” 

You were a genius. In all eyes besides Ace’s, that is. 

Ace snorted, “I bet it was a lucky guess.”

You fought back, “Pshhhh. No way.” You knew this was just the start of one of your many squabbles. 

Grim whispered to you behind his hand, “This guy looks nice, but he’s the type who can tell lies with no problem, huh…”  

“I guess so.” Your eyes widened at Grim’s statement. 

Trey rallied you all together to begin the next step, “Next is the fresh cream!”

A shrill scream ran through the air.

Ace bounced up and questioned Trey, “What’s wrong?”

You joined Ace with your question, “Are you okay?”

“I got carried away with the chestnuts you picked that I went overboard with making the marron base.” Trey laughed at himself and rubbed the back of his head, “We’re a little short on fresh cream.”

Deuce offered, “I’ll go buy some. Do they sell it in the school store?”

Trey explained,  “That shop sells pretty much anything, so I’m sure it should be there. Can I ask you to buy some other stuff while you’re at it? Two packs of milk, two cartons of eggs, silicon cups, and five canned fruits…” He writes down the list of items and hands them to Deuce. 

Deuce reads the list before commenting, “I don’t think I can carry all of that alone…” 

This was your chance, “I’ll come! I need to see if they have uniforms there, anyway.” Maybe you could find some uniforms or even some other clothes for a nice price as if you had any money. 

Grim interjected,  “I’m going, too! I don’t wanna mix more dough!” He raised his little paw as far as his body would allow it. 

“Understandable.”  You did not need to lose your arms over baking. 

The three of you began your walk to the grocery store on campus with only some light chatter about how excited you all were to taste the finished product and how Grim shouldn’t steal it all. 

The grocery store was the size of a drug store, but apparently from what Trey said it had everything anyone at this school needed. It’s gotta be a magic store.  

“We sure this is it?” You questioned Deuce because he was sure to know more than you, right?

Deuce pointed out, “I haven’t heard of any other shops here.” 

Grim quickly agreed, “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Let’s get a move on!”

While still warry, you approached the place behind the two overexcited shoppers, both who had stars in their eyes as someone from a novel would say. 

Deuce gazed around the place with wide eyes after opening the door where a little bell rang, “Pardon us! Whoa, what an amazing shop… Crystal skulls, magical texts, and… wh-what sort of animal is this…?” Deuce motioned to an animal’s skeleton that was just laying out on one of the shelves. Grim and Deuce took two steps closer to inspect the animal while you took two steps back. 

Grim, who began to travel by himself around the store, questioned Deuce and you, “Can we really find some fresh cream here?”

“I’d be surprised if we couldn't find it.” You opened a box that was filled with dusty books while nodding to Grim. 

Out of nowhere came a voice near the counter,  “Hey! Little lost lambs, what can I help you with? Welcome to Mr. S’s Mystery Shop.” The man had one of the oddest outfits with a bright pink shirt but then a black and dark purple jacket. His fashion sense was certainly new, but his vibe was what shocked you the most. Almost like he knew too much. What is it that you wish for today? A charm against cheating?” He pulled out a slip of paper from his chest pocket, “ An ancient king’s mirror?” a small mirror from his sleeve,  “Or maybe, some cursed tarot cards?” He even pulled a box out of thin air. 

Grim was frozen in shock for a moment and joined the conversation with a breath, “Ah, you startled me!”

You added on, “He reminds me of those characters from video games and movies that are just normal store owners or vendors that have some of the oddest items.” Looking at his shop, you believed yourself for a moment. 

The three of you made your way to the little counter at the back of the store. 

Deuce took out the list from his pocket and handed it to the man, “Um… We would like to buy the things written on this note.”

Grim used his arms to pull his face onto the counter as to be seen and begged,  “And I also want some canned tuna!”

“With what money?” You waved at him in disbelief,  “And I have a question for you, Mystery man.”

Deuce pushed Grim off of the counter,  “No! We will not buy any canned tuna!” which only caused Grim to growl at Deuce. 

The male scanned the note while tapping his finger in his chin,  “Mhmm. What do we have here? Fresh cream and eggs… Oh, my! What a pretty sweet line-up” He gave Deuce a thumbs up, “OK! I shall bring them out now. And I’ll get back to you in just a minute.” The male nodded at you with a small wink at the end of his sentence. 

Totally an odd vibe.

Deuce gasped in disbelief letting go of Grim’s fur,  “Whoa… Will he really have some here?”

You voiced your thoughts, “Maybe the back is just really big?”

The man returned with five bags full of items on your list, “Here, thank you for the wait. It is rather heavy, so are you sure you can carry them all?” The male, then gestured to a sign right next to the cash register about a special bag to carry all the items, “If you act now, I can throw in a special bag to carry all of those things for 30% off of its original price!” Deuce took out the money Trey gave him and handed it to the shopkeeper. 

Grim blurted out, “What did you say? Hey, that sounds interesting!” The cat grabbed your clothes as he normally does pointing at the sign to get your attention focused on it. 

Deuce shook his head while grabbing three of the five bags, “We. We will have to decline! Let’s go, Grim!”

“But why?! I wanna play more!” A pointing Grim was not resulting in a good day for anyone, but at this rate you couldn’t spend money on any food. 

“About that question,” You brought it up to the shopkeeper. 

The off-vibe man nodded,  “Ok, what's the problem, little lost lamb?”

You asked, “Do you sell uniforms or at least know where I can find one?”

“I should have some, but they're all used ones. I’ll even cut the price because of how damaged they are.” He then told you the price which was great for uniforms but as someone who owned no cash, not the best.

You thanked the male as you picked up the last two bags while the other two began to walk out, “Thanks! I’m gonna come back once I have the money, but please save them for me.” 

“Ok! of course, little lost lamb. I’ll have them in stock just for you.” He winked at you again, and at this point and time you’re just gonna assume it’s normal for him. 

“Thank you so much!!” You responded while finally walking out of the shop. 

Once outside, Deuce began a new conversation, “That was a very amazing shop, in a way…”

Grim was still pouting at the two of you for not giving him free food, “Boo, you two are so stingy.” His arms were snuggly crossed over one another and even his ears were flattened against his head. 

Deuce swung around to ask Grim, “Who are you calling stingy?!” This, however, almost resulted with Grim getting a concussion because of how the bag of canned fruits and heavy cream knocked Grim to the ground. 

Deuce quickly apologized, “Sorry!”

You placed your bag to check on Grim by feeling on his head for any bumps or any scrapes from the bag,  “Well, no one would give a brat what they want now would they? I know you want some tuna, but money is tight right now and I can’t get you any for a while. Once I save up enough, I promise I’ll get you some.” You brushed back his hair before flicking at his forehead, “Just remember to keep that ego in check. Soon, who knows, maybe I can even buy a hairbrush and maybe even a phone.”

 Deuce coughed before fixing the bags in his hold to reach his hand out to you, “The bag with the milks is heavy, isn’t it? I’ll hold it for you. I’m experienced with carrying heavy loads.”

You shook your head, “No way, lover boy, I can handle myself just so you know. And besides that's an odd area of expertise. Any reason why?” You kept walking to distract the male from taking your bag.

Deuce flushed red before starting his explanation, “Yeah, Mother always takes me with her during timed sales. She buys a lot, so I end up helping her with the bags. I’m the only man in the family, so I’m used to helping a lot with hard labor. Ah, I’m sorry… I keep talking about myself.” His face flushed even darker. 

You rolled your eyes, “That is incredibly sweet of you, Deuce. Don’t be scared to talk to me about anything. We’re friends. You must care for your mother a lot with how you talk about her.”

Deuce stuttered, “No… That’s not true at all. I… Mother was…” Deuce flies back onto the ground after connecting with someone’s chest, “Ouch!”

All of the materials that Deuce was holding fell to the ground, but the biggest problem was that the eggs were now completely broken and leaking everywhere on the sidewalk. 

Grim gasped and fell to his knees to try and save the groceries, “Ah, the eggs!!”

“Hey, you ok?” You reached out your hand to Deuce who grabbed it so that you could pull him up onto both of his feet. 

Deuce locked eyes on the bag of now broken eggs and cursed, “Damn it!” He picked up the bag of eggs and began to check to see if any of the eggs were not broken and could be used, “All the eggs in the carton broke! The plastic bag’s now reeking with eggs…!” Deuce tossed them in the trash while Grim squirmed to grab the bag from him. 

A white haired familiar looking male scoffed at the three of you, “That hurt! Where the hell’re ya lookin’ at,” His eyes darted to each member of your little group before continuing, “Wha? You’re the guys who ruined my carbonara’s soft-boiled egg during lunch today!” 

Another familiar red haired student was right on his side, “Damn, it’s you guys again. Ya better give us a break.” 

You grabbed as many bags as you could carry that Deuce had before, and you snorted, “And I thought I already crushed your egos, but I should have known you can't break a brick for a brain.”

The white haired boy snickered at the three of you, “Well it seems the little supervisor can’t even get us in trouble so no need for fear. You can’t harm us.” 

Deuce had been standing in place for the last couple of seconds with his eyes on his feet, “…Aren’t you the ones at fault for bumping into me?” His sharp gaze met that of the duo of delinquents, “Even during lunch. The egg wasn’t really that badly harmed, but you made a huge scene out of it. Our carton of eggs is totally ruined, though.” Deuce rolled up the sleeves to his jacket. 

Grim agreed standing as tall as he could across from the two upperclassmen, “He’s totally right!”

You walked over to where Deuce and Grim had made their little fighting stance, “Let’s just leave. They’re not gonna listen and we shouldn't get into a fight with idiots.” To further get Deuce’s attention, you pulled into the shoulder of his jacket to motion toward the bags, “We can always replace them. Let’s just get what we have back.”

The white haired boy swore, “The hell? You sayin’ it’s my fault, then? And idiots? I’m much smarter than any of you. Respect your elders!”

Deuce paid no mind to you or your constant poking on his shoulder, “Yes, please pay us back for the eggs. And also, please apologize to the chickens.”

“Hah?” The red haired boy quipped at Deuce, “Makin’ a ruckus over eggs, are we?”

Deuce grunts, “Hah?” before turning to you, “Remember the promise right?”

You nodded at him. 

“Then, back up.” He lightly pushed you to make you back up, “And don’t get involved.”  You locked eyes with the male only to see his eyebrows furrowed and a large scowl on your face. And as much as you wanted to help him and get him out of this situation, there’s nothing you can do against magic users. At least not yet.

The two other students did not realize how ready Deuce was to make this physical or how personal this was. 

The whit haired boy groaned, “It didn’t hit the ground so you can still eat it. Stop makin’ a fuss over little things.” The boy slapped his friend before whispering something to him. 

The other boy snickered before adding, “Ya better be thankful they broke inside the plastic bag!” 

“Not only are they dumb, but blind too,” You mumbled to yourself which Grim could hear from his small chortle. 

Deuce still had not lost his eye contact with the other two boys, seemingly eyeing them down to wait for the perfect moment. 

Both of the boys let out the largest giggles possible that a teenage boy could without sounding like girls gossiping with their heads thrown back and their hands clutching their stomachs. 

“Laughing at something that is surely your fault.” You rolled your eyes while trying to get the boy’s attention on Deuce who was in your eyes about to murder a bitch, “I think you should just pay us back for it. Maybe some extra too for having to deal with your terrible attitude to even it out.” 

Neither student responded to you only grunting out stiffles of laughter for the next couple of seconds. 

Deuce muttered to himself breaking eye contact with the two to gaze down at his hand which was clenched like in one of those TV shows when a character is going to do something he regrets, “... Mess with me, will you…”

White haired kid raises his eyebrows in confusion as Deuce looks to be slowly going insane,  “Huh?”

Deuce exploded at the two, “I told you to stop laughing, damn it!!” His feet began to move closer and closer to the two who just stood in horror for the boy who was once silent, “You ain’t got no choice but to apologize for something that’s your fault! These eggs will be used to make a delicious tart in place of turning into chicks, bastard!! Do you understand me, huh!?”

“Wh-what’s with him all of a sudden…?!” The red haired boy was backing away from the approaching student and had a look of disbelief on his face. 

Deuce grabbed his fist in one hand and cracked the knuckles of the other one, “If you’re not gonna pay me back for the 6 eggs, I got no choice but to beat the hell out of you six times.”

The white haired male faltered, “Huh!?” before seeing the blue haired male coming straight for him with his fists in a fighting position. 

 “Grit your teeth, you little bastards!!” And with that Deuce began his little fight by pulling at the kid’s clothes and punching them a little too hard.

“Where does that phrase even come from?” But what could you do besides stand there and wait even if you didn’t want the two to get hurt going into the fight now would be harmful.

You really need to stop getting involved in fights. 

[mando-ag]

Remember Me ~* The Lake

Summary: Din meets reader in the city part during winter, seeing reader for the first time as she plays with children. He quickly realizes this is his destiny.

Warnings: Swearing, fluff, filler, Sensual language. I think that's it loves.

w/c: 2.6k

A/N y'all this is ch.2 of the remember me series. slowly picking up the pace here ;) this one is a filler as well but I hope you enjoy it. <3

The heat warmed your cheek as the sunlight peeked through your curtains in the early morning. Sighing softly you started to get ready for your morning, begrudgingly so. It wasn’t hard to tell that you weren’t a morning person. It just deemed unnecessary for you to get up and do something you didn’t even enjoy. But living in the real world, it’s what you have to do. Need work to pay for bills and food, the bills fund the essentials in your home. Just a boring, irritating cycle of life.

Heating up your electric kettle for some coffee, you washed the leftover dish from the night before, making a mental note to buy more dish soap at the market today. It was Wednesday, the usual day you went shopping for groceries. Why? Who knows, you just get excited because it's the middle of the week for you.

You thought it would probably be best to write down everything in a list because you knew you would forget even if you decided to memorize it for an hour.

Shampoo, dish soap, cooking oil, dryer sheets.. Um what else am i missing.

You looked around your apartment, adding things to your list you knew you would need. Once you were finished you folded it up and went to grab your purse, heading to the store before going to pick up the three rascals.

Definitely your favorite thing about living alone is that you don't need to buy an excessive amount of anything if you don't want to. Beginning to fill your cart with the things from your list, you consciously look around to see if maybe, maybe, you’ll see Mando again.

You need to chill, literally just met the guy and all you mentioned was a book. He literally doesn’t know you. You mentally scolded yourself as you walked through the lanes, grabbing what was on your list. Humming softly as you grabbed shampoo and conditioner, you heard soft giggling on the other side, hearing a man talk to what you presumed to be his child. Your heart sped up as you let your mind believe that it was Mando, listening carefully for the man’s voice again.

“Shit!” You whispered, checking your appearance through your phone camera. “I literally look so bad.” You mumbled, trying to fix your hair a bit more. Slipping your phone into your pocket, you pushed your cart nonchalantly as you heard the voice come close, you could see from the corner of your eye he was there.

Taking a deep breath, looking away from the many options of shampoo and conditioners, you finally turn and face Mando... except it wasn’t him. It was just some random dad with his kid. Hiding your disappointment, you awkwardly waved to the pair, grabbing what you needed before leaving that aisle quickly.

“Oh my god, that was so fucking embarrassing.” You mumbled to yourself, blushing from your stupidity. To think he would actually be there made you stoop a new low. “I need to get laid.” You sighed to yourself as you went to the dairy products. You finished off getting what was on your list, paying and placing it all carefully in your car.

On the drive back to your apartment, you hummed along to the radio, wondering if it was the universe trying to tell you something about Mando. I mean he’s cute… wait what? I don’t even know what he looks like. Yeah I got it bad. You internally fought with your rational side, deciding to stop thinking of Mando for the time being.

Putting everything away, you grabbed a few snacks to take to the kids, getting back out to your car and driving to their much bigger home. All three kids rushed out, greeting you excitedly as you stepped out of your car.

“Hello my little munchkins!” You said, kneeling and hugging all three little rascals. Standing as their parents stepped out of the house with suitcases. Keeping a smile on your face but you were sure the parents recognized the confusion in your eyes. Are they leaving? Yeah no shit, obviously. They have suitcases. You huffed as your subconscious voice was being sarcastic with you.

“Good morning, thank you for coming so early. Jerry and I have an emergency business trip we need to take. We would have told you sooner had we known but like I said this is an emergency trip.” Mrs. Stenson told you, giving you an apologetic smile.

“It’s quite alright Mrs. Stenson, I’m assuming you want me to stay with them?” You nodded to the three children who cling to your side.

“Yes please, we would appreciate it greatly. The trip is one week. We will triple your pay and send you extra money for the three of them. I know this is asking a lot of you… if you’re not comfortable i can find someone else but..” She trailed off looking at you with a hopeful look on her face.

Realizing how much she would be increasing your pay, you quickly nodded. “Don’t worry, I don’t mind watching over them. It’s fine.” You told her, giving her an understanding smile.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” She gave you a quick hug before putting the suitcases in the car. “You know where everything is, if you need extra money, please call us. She turned to her kids, kneeling down the best she could because of her tight pencil skirt.

“My darling angels. Remember mommy and daddy have to leave but we will be back. Now you three better be on your best behavior or you can’t go to disneyland. Remember? Daddy said if you behave, we can all go to disneyland. “ All three kids perked up nodding. “We’ll be good mommy!” The eldest, Jaime said, excited that his reward would very possibly be a trip to disneyland. The girls murmured in agreement with their brother.

“Okay, come give daddy and me a quick kiss before we go.” She said, the kids kissing her cheek and the father’s. “I love you, my little babies. Behave well.” She gave them a tight hug before getting in the car with her husband leaving for the airport. Mr. Stenson wasn’t as affectionate as his kids but they knew their daddy loved them even if he didn’t say it as often as their mother did.

Ushering the kids inside the large home, making sure the doors were all locked. Okay, keeping three kids all under the age of ten entertained would probably be the hardest thing you’ve ever done. But you were determined.

“Okay, it’s breakfast time! What would you like to eat?” You asked, staring at the three wide-eyed children. “Waffles!” Penny shouted, jumping in excitement. Her brother and sister agreed, chanting waffles as you got the ingredients.

“Waffles it is then! Go watch tv and I will bring you your waffles when they are ready. How does that sound mm?” You asked but the kids scurried away as soon as you said tv, leaving you alone in the kitchen.

***

After feeding the children you took them out to the lake, making sure you had their skates in a bag. Usually you would take them to swim but since it’s frozen, the kids wanted to ice skate instead. Laying down a thick towel and a blanket on top of it, you sat at the edge of the grass, a few feet away from where the actual lake began.

“Don’t go too far. I checked and the ice is thick enough but you have to be careful. Loretta, you can skate here.” You pointed to the area where you wanted her to be in. She was the youngest and you were afraid that she could get severely hurt if she went too far.

Helping the kids onto the ice, you sat on the blanket, watching them carefully. You didn’t want an accident to occur. The worst thing that had ever happened when you were watching them was Jaime stepping on a leggo and his foot was in a lot of pain for a few minutes.

Hearing a rustling behind you, you quickly stood and turned around alarmed. Relief and surprise filled your body as you realized it was Mando… with a small child… or baby? Of course, even though you can’t see his face you can just tell he was older than you by a couple years. So he has a kid… meaning he either has a wife, baby mama, or just a single dad. You cleared your throat after a moment, realizing you’ve been staring.

“Sorry, I didn't know it was you… I thought it was an animal or something.” Blush creeped up onto your cheeks, feeling slightly embarrassed. Rubbing your arms, you quickly turned to watch the kids, making sure nothing had happened yet. Glancing at Mando as he walked and stood beside you.

“I should’ve made my presence known. Lake day for your kids too?” He asked, looking at the kids before focusing on your face. You nodded, looking at him.

“Yeah, it’s going to be a long week… is he your son?” You wanted to smack yourself for asking such a stupid question. Obviously, he said “your kids too” meaning this one is definitely his.

Chuckling, he nodded. “My son Grogu… I adopted him when he was… younger.” Din nodded to his son, he looked quite interesting. A very tiny little child with a bald little head and green skin. How is he so… adorable and tiny? You thought to yourself. Not being able to stop yourself from blurting out the question that had been itching at you since you saw him with his little green son.

“Are you married? Or have a girlfriend?” You asked, looking at him through his black visor. Feeling your stomach clench and your chest tighten as you nervously await his answer. Feeling more anxious to know as he looked away from you towards his son instead.

“No, I’m not married… and I don’t have a girlfriend either.” Din finally answered after a minute of silence, easing your emotions. Moving slightly closer to Mando, you looked at his hands. “Would you like to sit with me?” You motioned to your little spot you had set up on the ground.

Nodding, Din sat down next to you once you had made yourself comfortable. Looking towards the children. Determined to get to know him, you built up confidence to try to converse with him.

“How long have you lived here?” You asked, looking at him. He hummed softly, barely able to hear it. “About three months.” He replied, not looking at you. Three months?! That’s it? It surprised you how little time he’s spent there. You thought a man like himself would’ve lived there longer, probably just kept to himself but you were completely off the mark.

“Oh cool, do you like it here?” He nodded, looking at you. “I do, safer place for my son to live. Be with kids his age.” Motions to the children playing and skating together.

You looked at them, biting your lip as the cold started to seep into your jacket. “Dammit.” You mumbled as you shivered.

Din looked at you, noticing your shivering. Deciding to be bold, he wrapped an arm around you, your body tucked into his side. Blushing from his action, you pressed your face into his arm, trying to warm up. “Thank you.” You told him, the both of you enjoying the silence between you.

After a few hours, you stood to stretch your legs a bit. Looking at the kids, you noticed they were tired. “All done?” You asked as you walked to the ice. Penny nodded, yawning.

“I’m hungry!” Jaime said, pouting as he lazily skated towards you, holding his baby sister’s hand. Smiling you helped switch their skates to their normal shoes, putting the skates carefully in the bag. “Yeah? We’ll let’s go and fill those tummies up shall we?” You hummed softly before turning to Mando.

“Would you like to come with us?” You asked him, watching as he stood up. He nodded, taking his son’s hand and guiding him to the car. “I’ll follow you there.” He mumbled as he picked up his son.

You drove the kids to the restaurant, smiling as Mando walked in after you, standing close to you as the hostess showed you to the table. Sliding into the booth after all the kids were seated together, including Grogu. Mando slid in next to you, looking at you, “Hope you don’t mind.” His voice sounded deeper causing blush to creep onto your face.

“No worries.” You picked up a menu, asking the children what they would like to eat. After they all chose, you looked towards mando. “See anything you want yet?” You asked him, looking at the menu before looking at his face, blushing when you saw him already looking at you.

“I’m not too hungry, maybe I’ll order something to go.” He replied, his voice gruff causing you to clench your thighs together as you imagine his voice from underneath your pu- Stop it. You’re about to eat with KIDS you fucking horny bitch. Clearing your throat you nodded and proceeded to order what you wanted. Watching the kids interact, you felt Mando’s hand touch yours, causing you to stiffen your back at the unexpected touch.

“So.. what do you do for a living?” You asked Mando, taking a sip from your drink. He sighed softly, barely audible if you weren’t paying attention. He leaned back, his helm facing you,”I’m a bounty hunter. I get paid to hunt people down, bringing them back to people they owe debts to.” He watched your face, waiting for your reaction.

You were surprised, from your understanding that profession is quite dangerous, especially for him since he is a father. It made you curious as to why he would have that profession since he is a dad. Voicing your curiosity, you asked him.

“Why a bounty hunter? Not that it is a bad profession, it’s just that you have a child. You have a lot to lose if something happens to you.” Tilting your head to the side, you waited for his response. You looked over at the kids when they got a bit rowdy, telling them to calm down.

“It pays well enough for me to put food on the table for us. For our home. As long as I know that he is alive and safe, I am fine. I’d do anything for him.” He told you, looking towards his son for a moment. You could easily tell he truly loves his son, caring deeply for him. At some point during your conversation, your hand slipped comfortably into his, neither of you seemed to mind or be upset from the tender action. You began eating the meal, watching the children eat, making sure to have minimal mess from the four children eating in front of you two.

***

You both were outside the restaurant, the children saying good-bye to Mando’s cute little baby. The kids piled into the car, chatting loudly.

“Mando… I-I really enjoyed talking to you today… and maybe, um, we could do it again.” You said nervously, you planned on speaking confidently, but once you actually spoke, his stare made your soul tingle and all confidence slipped away.

“I think that would…” He watched your hopeful eyes, your nervous demeanor. “... it would be a great idea. I think it’ll be… good.” Good? The fuck does that mean?? Din mentally slapped himself, that was the weirdest thing he has ever said.

Blushing deeply you nodded, reaching into your purse and writing your number down on a piece of paper, handing it to him. You felt your confidence build up again as he didn’t reject you. Thank God.

“Call me.” You smiled, leaning in and kissing his helm where his cheek would be. You walked to your car, getting in and waving to him as you drove home. What a fucking day.

A/N Y'ALL this took a long ass time to write. mainly because I kept changing things around and school takes my time away! But I got it done!!! I hope y'all liked it, I know its very ~dull~ for the most part.

[tinyshe]

What Will Segregated Society Look Like for the Unvaxxed? 

August 09, 2021

Story at-a-glance 

High-profile restaurant chains like Shake Shack and Union Square Hospitality will require staff and indoor diners in New York City and Washington D.C. to show proof of COVID “vaccination,” starting September 7, 2021

Vaccinated-only bars and restaurants have also popped up in Seattle, Los Angeles, San Francisco, Oakland, Philadelphia, Boston, Atlanta, Boulder, St. Louis and New Orleans

A growing number of private companies are also requiring workers to participate in human medical experimentation or forfeit their job. High profile examples include Facebook, Google, Twitter, Lyft, Uber, Saks Fifth Avenue, The Washington Post, BlackRock, Ascension Health, Netflix, Walmart, the Walt Disney Corporation and Morgan Stanley

PayPal is vowing to block transactions and cancel accounts held by “extremists” and anyone endangering “at-risk communities,” which could include just about anything, including anti-vaccine rhetoric

CNN anchor Don Lemon has suggested unvaccinated people ought to be barred from buying food in grocery stores and have their driver’s license taken away

In 2020, the proposition that COVID-19 countermeasures would come to include forced vaccination and vaccine passports, resulting in a segregated society where only those participating in the COVID injection experiment have human rights, was labeled a wild conspiracy theory unworthy of discussion.

Fast-forward to August 2, 2021, and Forbes announces, “No Vax, No Service: Here’s Where Bars and Restaurants Across U.S. Are Requiring Proof of Vaccination.”1

No Jab, No Dining

According to Forbes,2 high-profile restaurant chains like Shake Shack and Union Square Hospitality are leading the way, requiring all staff and indoor diners in New York City and Washington D.C. to prove they’ve received the required doses of COVID-19 injections, starting September 7, 2021.

New York Mayor Bill de Blasio hailed the decision, saying others will follow — and indeed, they did, with de Blasio himself announcing August 3, 2021, that proof of vaccination will be mandatory for all indoor dining, visiting gyms and going to movie theaters in the city:3

“This is a miraculous place literally full of wonders,” Mr. de Blasio said. “If you’re vaccinated, all that’s going to open up to you. But if you’re unvaccinated, unfortunately you will not be able to participate in many things.”

Several New York City eateries were already checking vaccination status, and during the last week of July 2021, the San Francisco Bar Owners Alliance urged its 300 members to require proof of COVID-19 injection or a negative COVID test for patrons wanting to have a drink indoors.

Several Los Angeles restaurants, bars and comedy clubs are also following suit, as are more than 60 establishments in Seattle. Vaccinated-only restaurants have also popped up in Oakland, Philadelphia, Boston, Atlanta, Boulder, St. Louis and New Orleans.

Since COVID countermeasures are a global lockstep operation,4 the same segregation trend is emerging in other countries as well. On the other hand, in Florida, where I live, businesses are prohibited by law5,6 from requiring customers to show proof of participation in the COVID jab experiment.

No Jab, No Job

A growing number of private companies are also requiring workers to participate in human medical experimentation or forfeit their job. As reported by Axios,7 this includes Facebook, Google, Twitter, Lyft, Uber, Saks Fifth Avenue, The Washington Post, BlackRock, Ascension Health, Netflix, Walmart, the Walt Disney Corporation and Morgan Stanley.

As mentioned, Florida prohibits businesses from requiring customers to provide proof of COVID “vaccination,” but it does not bar companies from mandating vaccination for its employees.

For now, Disney’s jab mandate only pertains to salaried and nonunion hourly employees, but according to Yahoo! News,8 Disney is in negotiations with union officials who represent theme park employees and members of its movie and TV production crews. The goal is to extend the vaccine mandate to union employees as well.

In May 2021, the Equal Employment Opportunity Commission decreed that it is legal for companies to require employees to get the COVID shots.9 This despite the fact that the four available COVID injections are only authorized for emergency use and are as yet unlicensed.10 Testing is not expected to conclude for another two years.

No Jab, No Business

Private companies also have the right to not mandate COVID shots, of course, but standing up for workers’ right to choose could hamper their ability to conduct business at all, as PayPal is now vowing to block transactions and cancel accounts held by “extremists” and anyone endangering “at-risk communities,”11 which could include just about anything at this point.

Seeing how the White House is promoting the idea that people who question the safety and effectiveness of COVID shots are “killing people” and the Center for Countering Digital Hate (CCDH) labels anti-vaccine rhetoric as a form of hate speech, is it a stretch to suspect PayPal will start taking down the accounts of so-called “anti-vaxxers”?

Business owners and self-employed entrepreneurs who speak out against other official narratives probably face the same risk. Venture capitalist David Sacks recently commented on the situation:12

“When I helped create PayPal in 1999, it was in furtherance of a revolutionary idea. No longer would ordinary people be dependent on large financial institutions to start a business …

But now PayPal is turning its back on its original mission. It is now leading the charge to restrict participation by those it deems unworthy … [W]e are talking about … shutting down people and organizations that express views that are entirely lawful …

If history is any guide, other fintech companies will soon follow suit … When … your name lands on a No-Buy List created by a consortium of private fintech companies, to whom can you appeal?

As for the notion of building your own PayPal or Facebook: because of their gigantic network effects and economies of scale, there is no viable alternative when the whole industry works together to deny you access.

Kicking people off social media deprives them of the right to speak in our increasingly online world. Locking them out of the financial economy is worse: It deprives them of the right to make a living.

We have seen how cancel culture can obliterate one’s ability to earn an income, but now the cancelled may find themselves without a way to pay for goods and services.

Previously, cancelled employees who would never again have the opportunity to work for a Fortune 500 company at least had the option to go into business for themselves. But if they cannot purchase equipment, pay employees, or receive payment from clients and customers, that door closes on them, too.”

If this trend continues, which it probably will, might people who question COVID shots and/or refuse to participate in human experimentation be barred from having a credit card or a bank account?

No Jab, No Food

Some are promoting even more severe punishment for the unvaccinated. Yet, it’s not enough for some thought leaders that unvaccinated individuals can’t enter a bar or restaurant, and might lose their ability to send or receive money for goods and services using PayPal (and potentially other digital transaction services).

For example, CNN anchor Don Lemon recently suggested unvaccinated people ought to be barred from buying food and have their driver’s license taken away.13,14

Why is fascism so commonly associated with genocide …? It is because it needs a unifying force powerful enough to sweep aside all resistance. ~ Charles Eisenstein

I’d like you to conduct a thought experiment, and think this through from start to finish. What would your life be like if you were:

Barred from driving

Barred from working and earning a paycheck

Barred from sending or receiving money online

Barred from having a bank account and credit card

Barred from eating food at a restaurant (assuming you somehow got the cash to pay for it)

Barred from buying food in a grocery store (again, assuming you somehow got the cash to pay for it)

Are Lemon and countless others actually saying it is acceptable to make half the U.S. population homeless and starve them to death in order to, theoretically, prevent the spread of an infection that, so far, has had a 99.74% survival rate?15

Mob Morality

To understand what’s really happening and what Lemon’s rhetoric is accomplishing, I highly recommend reading Charles Eisenstein’s article “Mob Morality and the Unvaxxed.” It’s an excellent and thought-provoking piece. Here’s a few chosen excerpts:16

“We would like to think that modern societies like ours have outgrown barbaric customs like human sacrifice … we don’t actually kill people in hopes of placating the gods and restoring order. Or do we? …

Not just any victim will do as an object of human sacrifice. Victims must be, as [legal scholar Roberta] Harding puts it, ‘in, but not of, the society.’ That is why, during the Black Death, mobs roamed about murdering Jews for ‘poisoning the wells.’

The entire Jewish population of Basel was burned alive, a scene repeated throughout Western Europe. Yet this was not mainly the result of preexisting virulent hatred of Jews waiting for an excuse to erupt; it was that victims were needed to release social tension, and hatred, an instrument of that release, coalesced opportunistically on the Jews ...

‘Combatting hatred’ is combatting a symptom. Scapegoats needn’t be guilty, but they must be marginal, outcasts, heretics, taboo-breakers, or infidels of one kind or another … If they are not already marginal, they must be made so …

[D]efying left-right categorization is a promising new scapegoat class, the heretics of our time: the anti-vaxxers. As a readily identifiable subpopulation, they are ideal candidates for scapegoating. It matters little whether any of these pose a real threat to society … their guilt is irrelevant to the project of restoring order through blood sacrifice …

All that is necessary is that the dehumanized class arouse the blind indignation and rage necessary to incite a paroxysm of unifying violence. More relevant to current times, this primal mob energy can be harnessed toward fascistic political ends …

Sacrificial subjects carry an association of pollution or contagion; their removal thus cleanses society. I know people in the alternative health field who are considered so unclean that if I so much as mention their names in a Tweet or Facebook post, the post may be deleted …

The public’s ready acceptance of such blatant censorship cannot be explained solely in terms of its believing the pretext of ‘controlling misinformation.’ Unconsciously, the public recognizes and conforms to the age-old program of investing a pariah subclass with the symbology of pollution …

This program is well underway toward the Covid-unvaxxed, who are being portrayed as walking cesspools of germs who might contaminate the Sanctified Brethren (the vaccinated).

My wife perused an acupuncture Facebook page today … where someone asked, ‘What is the word that comes to mind to describe unvaccinated people?’ The responses were things like ‘filth,’ ‘assholes,’ and ‘death-eaters.’ This is precisely the dehumanization necessary to prepare a class of people for cleansing …

To prepare someone for removal as the repository of all that is evil, it helps to heap upon them every imaginable calumny. Thus we hear in mainstream publications that anti-vaxxers not only are killing people, but are raging narcissists … and tantamount to domestic terrorists.”

Dangerous Territory Ahead

If deep down in your gut you sense that we’re speeding into dangerous territory, you’re probably right. The “vaccinated” public are actively encouraged and manipulated both by media and government officials into literally despising and wishing death upon the unvaccinated, and this is indeed a very dangerous thing. It breeds mob mentality devoid of reason and logic, which can have tragic consequences.

“Why is fascism so commonly associated with genocide, when as a political philosophy it is about unity, nationalism, and the merger of corporate and state power?” Eisenstein asks.17

“It is because it needs a unifying force powerful enough to sweep aside all resistance. The us of fascism requires a them. The civic-minded moral majority participates willingly, assured that it is for the greater good. Something must be done. The doubters go along too, for their own safety.

No wonder today’s authoritarian institutions know, as if instinctively, to whip up hysteria toward the … unvaccinated. Fascism taps into, exploits, and institutionalizes a deeper instinct.

The practice of creating dehumanized classes of people and then murdering them is older than history … The campaign against the unvaccinated, garbed in the white lab coat of Science, munitioned with biased data, and waving the pennant of altruism, channels a brutal, ancient impulse.”

The Constitution still offers some measure of protection in the United States, but it may be naïve to assume it will be adhered to in the long term unless we the people demand it. In Australia, military are now roaming the streets of Sydney to make sure no one strays beyond their front door, as the country has implemented one of its strictest lockdowns yet.18

Fanning the flames of anger and hatred, Prime Minister Scott Morrison has stated that vaccinated Australians might be able to regain some of their mobility once the vaccination rate reaches 70%, and broad lockdowns may be avoidable altogether if the vaccination rate hits 80%.

"If you get vaccinated, there will be special rules that apply to you,” Morrison told reporters. “Why? Because if you're vaccinated, you present less of a public health risk.”

A rational person might question whether Morrison would actually hold true to his word. A person blinded by anger probably won’t, but will instead direct their frustration onto the holdouts that prevent the vaccination rate from reaching that magical threshold where they believe freedom will be restored.

[yesthefandomfreakblr]

G U Y S ~m~ f e e l i n g s

big long post WOOOOOOOOOOOO

so uhh i did a lot of daydreaming today during school as one does when they don't care and are running on -12 hours of sleep and one cup of chocolate milk in lucky charms. I did a lot of thining about this whole 'Ripred pretends to be a service animal AU I came up with andddd ngl i'm liking this a lot.

- Cormaci and Ripred are dedicated pen-pals via Gregor and Ripred confides that he's always wanted to see the museums in New York. they talk about how fun it would be and Cormaci rather enjoys hearing from the snarky, witty, and kind of sweet stranger.

-One day gregor hands him Cormaci's note and Ripred sends gregor with his reply after their echolocation lesson. "Dearly detestable, (a customary greeting for the two) I have a large service animal vest and shades if you want to use them. meet me at midnight and we'll make a plan. XOXO- Cormaci"

-Ripred is over the frikken moon you have no idea. they make a plan, he tries on the vest, they meet in the morning to go to the museum.... And Ripred can't. It's just too bright and too loud and too many people so close to him. everyone stares and many try to pet him. Ripred knows he can't attack people or talk, so he just pulls Cormaci back to central park and has a full blown panic attack five blocks before they make it. they make it to an alleyway and he just shakes and gasps for air. sensory overlaods, especially when you've never had one, are no frikken joke.

-He just sulks back in the quiet, normal smelling, tourist free underland that doesn't burn his eyes. a few days go by and Cormaci proposes a picnic in central park. way less crowded, and with his vest people are warned not to pet him anyway. Ripred gives it another go.

-it doesn't suck. it actually goes very very well. he has the time of his life seeing the ducks and the horse carriages and sunbathing. they do this three times a week and gradually he goes to stores with her and they run small errands. after about two months She can take him anywhere and he won't get overwhelmed. of course, Cormaci hardly takes him into places or restaurants because he's not a real service animal. while waiting to cross the street, Gregor warns him to watch his tail. "what you think I'm just gonna fling it out and hit someone??" he flings his tail out for emphasis and hits someone. -rager speed activate- he catches them and apologises profusely. the 5 foot 2 ich overlander cracks up and compliments him on his reflexes. She hangs out with them the rest of the day and pays for their ice cream. He actually gets her number and they part ways. I mean she's weirdly chill but some people are. at least she didn't sue or panic.

-he uses the library computers to watch training videos and look up the criteria for service animals. He, Cormaci, And gregor's family all help expose him to all of the scenarios and help get him ready. He spends a lot of time with Lizzie. with her smelling salts, puzzles, and emergency phone in his pockets, Lizzie goes places with just him. they go to the museums and nerd out together.

They meet with the registration managers, and after the worst day of Ripred's life, (vet checks and behavioral/training testing. letting people grab, pinch, pull, poke, and prod him places he'd rather them not.) He get's officially registered as Lizzie's service animal.

-Ripred is ecstatic to roam the overland as he pleases and be able to help Lizzie. but he soon realizes she's not the only one who needs his help. Ripred builds a trustworthy council for the gnawers with two head leaders to rule in his stead. and helps Luxa build a better council so that she can visit a few days a week. this takes like a month.

Gregor's dad needs to go back to work, but is still very weak. Ripred, the two days a week he lectures, goes with him and carries his papers, medicine, and anything else on his vest and lets Mr. Campbelle lean on him during lectures. it's very interesting to him and excruciating not to chime in. So during breaks they geek out on theories about anything. Ripred helps him overcome his PTSD from his time in the rat lands. Texting his new distant friend Ripred finds out that Ally, the girl he one-hit K.O'd, has horses and actually does equine therapy. she helps Gregor's family for free. Ripred gets kicked by a horse.

Gregor needs help catching up with school, so he does that when they get home. and after the war of time, Gregor just needs him a lot. Ripred spends two or three nights a week with the boy, and they go on a lot of walks. They either walk for hours in silence or Gregor just breaks and gushes like a waterfall. He doesn't want to trouble anyone with everything on his mind but Ripred is safe. he understands. Gregor talks to him and Ripred listens. occasionally offering bits of valuable advice.

three days a week he goes to school with Lizzie, and finds that her teacher is very good at chess. they get along just fine and he talks to her and even helps with her lesson plans, given this is her first year. at first she tries to call Lizzie's emergency contact. but it's him. He lounges around and is the gordon Ramsey of education. He coaches Lizzie through panic attacks and she is never once bullied when he's around. she learns things from him and makes a couple more friends on the chess team. He'll sweep the floor with any one of them. He mostly reads during class but occasionally, during tests, (when Lizzie is most comfortable,) he'll react to the high stress of another student and put his head in their lap. (test anxiety is something else) and because they're elementary school kids, they make a cult for the rat. they call him Mr. Rat and leave offerings like shiny trinkets or snacks. he privately tutors the class for an hour after school because of this (they can leave if they want but he's smart and funny) and they all learn morse code/ ace their tests. going with Lizzie to P.E is his favorite. everyone else hates it. they fear him. He's no longer allowed to play dodgeball.

Grace is home but can barely walk. on good days her lungs will suddenly give out and it's extremely dangerous. with no one else able to run errands, and desperate to get out of the apartment, she begrudgingly and sorrowfully asks for his assistance. she wishes she could cut ties with the underland for good, but her family desperately needs him. the 'service animal' thing was just so he could go to the museum, but now he's a part of their lives. She leans on him in the grocery store and he sniffs out the best products as well as pushes the cart. if she goes down he has her inhaler and knows what to do. and aside from that, he makes great company. he's funny and smart. and she can tell him things she can't tell her family. about her chronic anxiety, her nightmares, her depression, her constant fear for her children and fear they don't love her anymore for trying to protect them and fear she didn't do enough and fear it will all happen again but this time someone won't come back... He understands what it's like to lose everyone. He understands not telling people things. He lets her talk. and only offers what she needs.

He still hangs out with Cormaci and they go on little trips together, but He's very busy taking care of his family. He never anticipated it to go this far or be this much work, sleeping in the underland once or twice a week, eating most meals there. But Ripred had decided to help Lizzie, a little girl that was very much like his own deceased pup. and in that, got closer and closer to Gregor, who was like a son to him long before he knew of Cormaci. In caring for and, in a way, adopting these pups, he'd adopted their parents and become a cornerstone in their daily life.

about Ripred and Ally, yeah they still hang out as often as possible she lives a couple hours out in florida but stays at her friends a couple days a week in NYC. it's kind of strange to him, but he finds it helpful that she would do anything for him. he can call her anytime for anything and she'll drive out or stay up late and talk, or uber eats him a snack. he ends up telling her absolutely everything. she's a good listener. her horse hates him. she gives Gregor free riding lessons and makes the BEST ribs.she's cool about the underland thing and just lets him talk. which he's not used to. within a few months, she knows more about him than Lizzie or Luxa. she sees him ugly and sees him nice and doesn't hate him for either. yeah she has a big crazy personality but if he accepts her, she'll return the favor tenfold. it takes a while but he gets used to having someone love him like a dog. she's kind of a dog. She knows what he's done, good and bad. and she's cool with it. but if he ever ever lies to her. she will never trust him again. he knows she's not lying.

Ripred supervises Gregor and Luxa's first date getting pizza and starbucks and going to a movie. He nips at someone's ankles for attempting to interfere.

Lizzie's panic attacks become more rare. to the point she doesn't need Ripred at school. Gregor's father no longer needs to lean on him, and can carry his own things. Grace returns to work and only needs her inhaler maybe once a week. Gregor is healing to the point he doesn't sneak out of his room and curl up with Ripred at night.

But none of them, not even Grace, want hm to leave. He experiences all of the Holidays with them during their first year together and he loves them all. food. Luxa joins to along with Cormaci of course. on Halloween he and Lizzie go as little red riding hood and the big bad wolf. gregor and luxa dress as bats. Gregor all black and Luxa a stunning gold. Ripred fights airport security. he tells his overlander friend, Ally, all about it. she thinks he's a bad-A.

As he is needed less and less Ripred goes back to the underland and helps Keep the peace. he was doing ok sending messages from the overland, but his presence is certainly needed more than twice a week. especially Luxa. she needs time alone to speak with a father figure, especially with Vikus's health fading. He helps relieve the pressure and helps her relax. She becomes like a daughter to him, Aurora as well. RIpred comes at a moments notice if any human male shows interest in his baby girl. He even brings Ally down and she honestly would kill to ride a bat. she gets to ride a bat. with everyone constantly dumping their problems on him and them having so many, Ally becomes vital to his mental health. to just have someone to relax with, to talk to to get Denny's at 2:00 AM with.

the years are long and full of hardships, love, and light. Gregor's family becomes more financially sound, they can comfortably afford to feed Ripred now, and go on annual trips. Luxa and Howard go to Hawaii. Vikus passes away two years after the COC, and Gregor's grandmother shortly after. Gregor's family decides to stay in new york. Ripred, Luxa, and Howard go to Virginia for a month with gregor's family in the summer and have the time of their lives. He brings Ally everywhere he can she makes him food, they joke together, sometimes stay at each others places, have a pick up lines war, and she's actually a valuable ally in meetings for writing things down and even contributing. they know everything about eachother. He often thinks to himself that she's every bit as sassy and kind as his mate, and if she were a gnawer, he wouldn't hesitate. but she's human.

and after four more years, at the age of nineteen, Gregor and Luxa are married. though they are no longer bonds, (the council decided you can only have one bond as not to split loyalties) Ripred walks Luxa down the aisle and takes his place beside gregor. where Ares would have stood. Gregor's mother is proud to call Luxa her daughter. Ally brings Luxa a pet cat, as is viking tradition for newlyweds to have one in their home. Ally's weird. but they like her.

Gregor's family half lives down there now and the gnawers and human tensions are almost nonexistent after so many years.

Ripred is godfather to all eight of Gregor and Luxa's children. and though he's starting to ache in the leg he broke in COC, his age starting to climb, it's not too much for him to play with his godpups or wrestle with Gregor. he'd be like mid 50's as human. (another reason he could never be with Ally, She's 25.) He attends Lizzie's wedding in the underland to hazard when she turns twenty. after all that time, he's nearly thirty, and plays a little less rough. he has another decade or two in him and is happy to live it. life has been hell to him... but now he's found heaven. he keeps his tears to himself watching his massive family, not of blood, but of choice, grow in a place that is not torn by war. a place where the walls are made of stone and a place where the sun shines. He doesn't mind people touching or hugging him anymore and you see his real smile a lot more often. but he's still too mean to die. snarky and sassy as ever. but a lot happier. in a bittersweet kind of way. he will never forget his wife or his pups, but he knows she'd be happy for him. and it doesn't hurt to think of them.

He may have been the registered service animal, but they were all helping him right back.

[spicysoftsweet]

A Very Important Episode starring Hisoka

Or the one where Hisoka learns Bungee Gum is not a food group.

A/N: We all know that Hisoka likes candy and Bungee Gum but we would like to encourage Hisoka to make healthier choices and prevent diabetes complications. There will possibly be a part 2. I hope this is educational.

---

This time Hisoka had actually done it. He’d actually managed to fuck up his entire body beyond what he could repair with Bungee Gum or Machi’s services - which she was charging higher and higher for - and now he was somewhere almost unthinkable - an emergency room.

“Illumi~~~~” he half-sang, half-whined now that he was finally lucid, after undergoing an exploratory laparotomy to stabilize his profuse internal bleeding - the surgeons had been in awe of just how much of his body had been purely synthetic due to Texture Surprise exclaiming that he’d be an incredible case to write up - and being amped up full of pain meds. He probably didn’t need the pain meds, but it was fun to go in and out of consciousness; he couldn’t remember the last time he had an actual night of sleep.

His unwilling friend sat at the side of his hospital bed, legs crossed and focusing his jarringly large, black eyes at the fluid and blood that was being transfused into him by IV drip. A small part of him was surprised that Hisoka could be transfused with regular looking blood and regular looking fluid. He was almost sure that he was made up purely of nonsense and Bungee Gum.

“Illumi~” Hisoka moaned dramatically a second time. His gaze slid now to him, with lips pressed into a flat line of distaste.

“Don’t ever use my name as your emergency contact again.”

Illumi had to hide the fact that he was impressed Hisoka could spell clearly enough to make out the letters of his name and had actually retained his phone number. He had been surprised to get a call, but made his way over as soon as he had finished gutting an enemy and stringing them up for display as requested in his latest contract. The idea of Hisoka being dead was incredibly alarming, for he did enjoy his health and company, but also sparked a morbid curiosity in him. Could Hisoka actually die?

“But you came, didn’t you?” Hisoka teased, with a shit-eating grin.

He had him there.

There was a soft knocking on the door, and a young woman in a white coat, followed by a taller man wearing a pair of scrubs came in. The young woman glanced at Hisoka and then Illumi, visibly wincing at the hard stare of the latter in the semi-dark room, then raised her badge to introduce herself. 

“H-hello, I’m Dr. Rhgyl, I-” her eyes flickered to Illumi briefly, unsettled by the fact that he hadn’t yet blinked in the past two minutes, then shifted back to Hisoka, whose devilish smile was almost more unsettling. “I was one of your surgeons and am here to answer any questions you have.”

She turned to Illumi, and gave a nervous nod of the head. “And who is in the room with you, Mr. Morow?”

“My husband,” he said, in a sickly-sweet voice. Illumi gave him a glare, then crossed his arms.

“Sure,” was all he said.

Sure, what? What is sure? Just answer the damn question... The poor young doctor’s face fell as she already knew this was something she’d have to spend unnecessary minutes during her already excessively long call night clarifying in her documentation. She turned to her nurse behind her, who gave her a small shrug. 

“So uh, Mr. Morow, how is your pain?”

“It’s wonderful!”

The doctor again tried to conceal her internal screaming, and continued to keep her professional smile plastered on her face. “In that case, please let us know if you have any more pain, and your nurse will take care of it.”

“We do have one other issue, however, “ she added, making sure to communicate this next part as clearly and effectively as possible. Hisoka perked up in surprise, and Illumi continued to sit perfectly still, as still as a statue. “Your blood sugar. Your blood sugar was extremely elevated, and we were concerned about a diagnosis of prediabetes or diabetes.”

“Diabetes?”

“We expect you to make a fast recovery… surprisingly fast in fact, but we would still like you to follow up with a primary care doctor about your blood sugar. We’ll draw a lab test to check how your sugars were for the past 3 months, called a Hemoglobin A1c test, and then we’ll have your primary care doctor follow up the results and help you with strategies to have better control.”

Illumi turned to Hisoka, who he could tell that whatever the medical team was telling him was going in one ear and out the other, and he was now only thinking about either his next fight or Bungee Gum based on the elated smile on his face.

Bungee Gum.

Bungee Gum was the fucking problem. 

As the doctor and the nurse finally exited out of the room and Hisoka went back to telling Illumi battle stories, Illumi started to clear his schedule in his head, to figure out when he could best drag Hisoka to his follow-up appointments, which he would have to make for him. Someone had to be the adult in this relationship. 

---

Hisoka’s new primary care doctor, another similarly young woman, but less easily intimidated as the tired one from the hospital sat at a computer, pulling up his chart to review his lab results from his hospitalization.

Illumi and Hisoka noticed how she visibly paled as she scrolled, then turned to Hisoka and gave him a reassuring smile, that looked to reassure her more than them. 

“What is it? Am I dead?” Hisoka asked. Illumi gave him a look to quiet down.

“Well, you’re diabetic, all right... Your A1c is 14%.”

“Is that bad?”

She swiveled in her chair to face him, hands in her lap. 

“Well, diabetes is diagnosed at an A1c of 7%. So... unfortunately,  yes.”

Hisoka started counting on his fingers and Illumi forcefully put his hand down.

“Hisoka, listen to the doctor. Diabetes is serious. My great-grandaunt was diabetic.” Illumi said in an even, impassive voice.

“Oh, how old was she when she was diagnosed?” The doctor asked, attempting to build rapport with the patient and the patient’s loved ones.

Without skipping a beat, he replied, “206, exactly. She loved nothing more than to unwind with Mountain Dew after her assassination missions. She ended up on dialysis.” 

The doctor seemed to be at a loss of words briefly, so she turned back to Hisoka, pulling out a pen and a notepad to focus on rather than lose her cool. 

“So, uh… let’s start by talking a little about what you usually eat,” she began. “What do you eat in a typical day?”

“Hm... “ Hisoka didn’t usually keep track of what he ate, so it took him some time to come up with an account. “Ah! Okay, so in the morning, I usually skip breakfast, but sometimes I’ll have some Bungee Gum.”

Odd choice, the physician thought, but she nodded and wrote that down, allowing the floor to Hisoka to speak.

“For lunch, I try not to eat too much, but I also have a couple pieces or ten of Bungee Gum.”

Hm…

“Oh and for dinner, I have a bowl of gummy candy if I’m feeling particularly peckish and also Bungee Gum.”

She looked up from her pad and paper to see Hisoka looking blissfully unaware that he had just revealed that he subsists solely on sweets. She suddenly felt an overwhelming urge to pull at her hair repeatedly. This would be a ton of education, and she still wasn’t exactly sure what exactly Bungee Gum was.

---

Illumi parked his custom Ferrari minivan, purchased entirely for this shopping trip, outside the Costco Wholesale, and gave Hisoka, a long, hard look. 

“Do you have the list?” Illumi asked, hand outstretched as Hisoka handed over a partially crumpled sheet of paper, outlining the basics of a balanced, carbohydrate-controlled diet for people with diabetes.

Hisoka looked outside to the large building, then looked back at Illumi. “Isn’t this for families? I thought we were shopping for me only, and sometimes you when you come over.”

“I don’t know, the butlers told me that they come here to stock the kitchens. It seems from the website that this store provides high quality bulk goods for very competitive prices so this will be an appropriate next stop.”

This was just one out of countless stops today - Hisoka had spent the earlier part of the day searching frantically for sugar-free Bungee Gum in every supermarket in a 25-mile radius unsuccessfully, and demanding to see the manager every time, only to kill them when they told him they didn’t have his particular brand. Illumi warned him that there would be no such shenanigans any longer.

They stepped out of the car and walked right past the door greeter who was waiting eagerly for them to present their membership card only to recoil once they both turned to look at him in unison with intent to kill. 

The first things Hisoka noticed as he walked in were the multiple little free sample kiosks at the aisles every so often and curiously wandered over to them. 

“Make sure to avoid anything glazed or with a sauce,” Illumi called after him, poring through the list as he wandered over to the produce aisle. He didn’t understand the draw of free samples; if he wanted to try something, he would simply buy it.

Hisoka made his way to Illumi and Illumi’s overfilled grocery cart about a half-hour later after wandering the entire store, arms filled with small paper cups and tasting spoons. It was clear that he had sampled literally everything, possibly twice or thrice. Illumi let out a sigh and moved to the front of the store to check out. 

Keeping Hisoka’s blood sugar low would be a daunting task, but he was determined that by the next visit to his PCP, he’d have some improvement in his A1c. Texture Surprise can only replace so many amputated limbs at once. He’d just have to buy every supermarket’s supply of Bungee Gum and possibly halt every single production chain devoted to it or something similar. A pain, but it was worth it. Hisoka was annoying as all hell, but still, he was worth it.

[malebodyinvasion]

Ron and the Wooden Sculpture - Part 1

Disclaimer:  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner.

I was extremely tired from work last week and asked my boss for a day-off. Since my performance was top notch, he gave me a week off from work. I planned to play all the games gathering dust in my online library.

I decided to get groceries myself. Normally, I just order them online and have them deliver to my doorsteps. It's been a while I had a walk from home to the supermarket and it would be a nice exercise. There were lots of shops and cafes along the way, and new ones replaced my usual hangout places. 

On my way home, there was this suspicious antique shop besides my favorite pastry shop. It was not there before. While waiting for my order, I decided to pay this antique shop a visit. There were vintage dolls, steampunk wall clocks, old-school vinyl records, and many more. The one thing that got my attention the most is this statue of a guy wearing something cultural from an ethnic group. Each part is sculptured well which captures a male body's anatomy perfectly. The curves, the edges, everything. It's like a real person turned into a piece of wood. I knew it was a wooden statue but it's turning me on harder than my morning wood. Dad jokes aside, I'm really interested.

Suddenly, the shopkeeper appeared out of nowhere. It's an old lady wearing a black cloth robe like that one of fictional games. This just adds to the weirdness of the shop.

"It's a fine work," I said as I try my best to hide the horniness between my legs.

"Indeed." She replied. "It is made from a very special tree which only grows from Asia."

"That was very informative and... and... mysterious," I stuttered. "Iz... Is it for sale?"

"Yes, that's why it's on display," the shopkeeper retorted. Stay cool there, granny. I'm just asking.

"By how much?" I asked.

"Well, it depends." She replied in a calm voice. Did she just hear my thoughts?

"It depends?"

"Since it's been a while someone decided to buy something that is not a lucky charm or a scented candle, I'll give you a discount." Then she told me the price. It's reasonable for a good quality display and it's much cheaper than those limited edition figurines I bought online.

"I'm feeling good today so I'll take it!" I said on impulse. If she only knew, the reason I'm buying this sculpture is because I'm getting pumped by just looking at it. I'll just tell my parents when they visit that I'm feeling artsy and want to support artists.

I paid her cash and she told me that her grandson will deliver the sculpture later. Her grandson, huh. I'm actually imagining that it looks like an adventurer or a mage just for consistency's sake. Sorry for being judgmental granny!

Before I leave, the old shopkeeper told me, "Let him bathe under the moonlight. Once he recover from his deep slumber, he will serve you well."

"Ah... Thank you... very much!" That was really weird. It's like one of those lines of flavor texts in video games. But honestly, I can't help to interpret it in a lewd way.

I picked up my order from the pastry shop. It smells so good and tasty. I dropped by one of the thrift stores I frequent in college and bought some clothes and a couple of bulb and socket to put near the wooden sculpture I bought earlier. I run across some of my college classmates on my way home. We exchange conversations and ended up eating lunch together.

Time passed by and I remembered that the statue will be delivered later today. I bid goodbye to my classmates and hurriedly walk. Outside the apartment building, was a truck with the statue covered with bubble wraps and a huge cloth.

"You're Ron I presume," a dude, which is likely in early 20's, asked me before pointing fingers to the statue. "My mother told me to bring this guy at this address and she perfectly describes how you look."

"Ah, yes. That's me." I answered excitedly. Wow, this dude looks exactly what I imagined, minus the weird clothing. He wears a normal T-shirt, a normal pants, and a pair of normal shoes. He is perfectly normal, different than his grandmother. His voice is kind of cute and sexy.

"Good." He remarked. "Can you stop staring at me?"

"Sorry."

"I already have an idea of what's on your mind. It's the clothes, isn't it?"

I nodded.

"My grandmother is really weird on her own way. Well, she's a... " he stopped. "Anyway, on what floor and room should I carry this statue?"

"Room 807, at 8th floor, " I answered but his face looks like he doesn't like what he just heard. "Don't worry. There's an elevator in the lobby!"

"O-okay."

He followed me to the elevator. I like to help him but I have groceries and the pastry in my arms. I can see his muscles popping up while carrying that statue. The more I look at him, the more I realize his handsome appearance.

"Let's go." I pressed the buttons and the elevator closes. It's just the two of us in this small space, well, it's three if I count the statue. I'm getting another boner thinking about it. "By the way, what's your name? I'm Ron as you already know," I bravely asked.

"Aldrin... You can call me Aldrin, yeah," he replied nervously. What's wrong with this guy and he suddenly starts shaking. I'm not a beast that will randomly jump at you. You're also weird on your own way, dude.

The elevator rang as a sign we're already on the 8th floor. I paced towards my doorstep and opened the door. "Can you put him over there, near the sofa bed?"

"Sure," then he entered my apartment. I could see him looking at my action figures on the shelves as he walked towards the bed. "You... You're quite a collector yourself."

"Ah, yes. I bought then if I feel like it," I tried to wave it off with a nervous laugh. Seeing him inside my room makes my growing member harder.

"This guy will be your first life-size. Take good care of him, yeah?" He said as he tap the statue's shoulder. I’ll take good care of the statue, of course. He may not be an action figure but I still spent some money.

"I will and thank you." I offered him a drink but he declined so I gave him some tip for helping me out. He supposed not to accept it but I insisted.

"Th... Thank you." He said as he left my room. "Ba... By the way, did my grandmother tell you anything about the statue?"

"Yes. She told something about moonbathing the statue. Is there a problem?"

"No... Nothing. I'll be going then."

"Alright. Thanks again."

I closed the door. I'm still horny, the heck. Thinking about Aldrin and looking at the statue gives me shivers down my spine. I lay down over the sofa bed and removed my pants and underwear freeing my "more harder" member. There were already signs of precum on its tip. I am in good shape, but not as good as the statue of well-defined pecs and abs or as muscular as Aldrin. I put my right hand over my chest and pinch my nipple as my left hand moved up and down my boner.

No, this is not enough. I get off my bed and stand half-naked before the wooden sculpture. I caressed its smooth hardy abs and pecs while still pounding my meat with my other hand. Due to my short stature, I raised my heels and lean towards for a kiss. I might look crazy for romancing an inanimate object but I'm enjoying it.

My body is tensing up. I could feel the build up in my dick and any moment I shall reach my climax. I lean more forward feeling the sculpture's varnished skin against my own. I feel so hot and euphoric.

"Aahhh...!" I moaned and let my imagination run wild, and streams of pure ecstasy shoots out towards the statue's legs, sliding down to its feet. "It's been a while since the last time I did this, huh. Thanks to you Mr. Statue."

I wiped off the cum with my T-shirt and wear a pair of boxer shorts. I need to put off the things I bought and prepare for dinner. I looked at the statue again and wondered what's the real meaning behind the granny said.

"I think the food can wait. I'll take a nap for now."

[be-ready-when-i-say-go]

Best Friend Pact- Part 1: Best Friends

Calum attempts to drink the sadness away one night at a party, but his friend, Neveah, doesn’t let him completely. And in their stalled journey off sobriety, they make a secret pact. Black!OC. 

CW: Over the course of this series, death and death related trauma is mentioned. Mentions of pregnancy and birth. 

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________________________

Calum is no stranger to the crowded house party. He's no stranger to a kitchen counter lined with liquor bottles or the red solo cups stacked on one side of the counter. He's no stranger to rattle of speakers thumping out tunes. He's no stranger to the random assortment of chips, finger sandwiches, and sweets laid out too. He's no stranger to the bodies pressed into each other as they dance. He's no stranger to the people spread out on the couch and into the backyard, no stranger to the people settled onto stairs.

Calum pours himself a drink. He'd normally go just for a beer. The week's been long though. Working in the studio has drained him. The final products all sound good. They're all worth it. He feels, however, like he's poured every ounce of himself into these songs and left him without a drop of anything left in his soul. The disaster of vodka and mixer is not going to help him. It'll shut down his brain and keep him from thinking about how lonely he feels. 

He's used to being alone. He's used to sleeping with a woman here and there. Lately, his chest has been aching. He wants to come home to a full house. Someone to tell about his day. Someone to cook for even if it's just a frozen pizza. He's always been a bit of a romantic. Romance has never been favorable to him. It's always cut him down with the same hand it helped him up. He knows it's not smart to give up, but he has. There's no romantic love for him out there.

"It's not a beer in his hands," Nevaeh muses, yelling over the music. The pair of been friends for what feels like forever. She takes the cup and sniffs it. "Oof, you could kill a horse with that."

"Tell the horse to get off my chest and I won't have to kill it," he mutters back, downing a fourth of the cup.

She takes his hand, tugging him off the counter. Calum won't talk. It's why he's opted for the alcohol. She won't force him. She won't even force him to dance. He might do it-- that's always a shot in the dark. No, she's just getting him in the crowd, away from his solace. They stand off the side of the dancing crowd. "Besides the horse on your chest, how's life?"

He shrugs, hiding in the alcohol in his cup, in the burning of his chest. It's strong but he's going to finish it. That's for damn sure. "Life is long," he muses.

She sighs and nods to the dance floor. "Maybe dance life away. If it's long, make it enjoyable."

Calum gives another shrug. He finishes the cup and steps closer to the sea of bodies. He's gotta do something besides drink and mope. One song turns into two. Two turns into three. But then the buzz of the first drink isn't strong enough anymore. He knows the smart thing to do is wait, give it a couple more minutes. He's just impatient right now. He just needs to feel nothing but the floating in his veins. "Need a refill?" he asks, nodding towards her cup. She shakes her head. "Okay, I do. I'll be right back."

She watches him, all the curls on the top of his head, and shoulders filling out his button up, sliding through the crowd back towards the kitchen. Calum grabs a beer this time, cracks the can up and downs about half of it in one go. He takes a breath before going in after the rest of it. He only gets about three-fourths of the can down before someone is pulling at him. He knows it's her. He can tell by the way she squeezes at his hand. He lets himself be dragged by her smaller frame. "Couldn't even let me get one more beer?" he smirks, settling onto the back porch with her.

"Spill your guts and I'll personally get you that second beer."

"I don't have any guts left to spill," he huffs. "That's the issue. I give everything away. Every goddamn thing and for what? What do I have to show for it? And romantic love is a fucking lie. A scam," he spits.

"Maybe that's because we're all believing in lies," she counters, the slight chill of the night shocking her. "Maybe love isn't an anvil that's dropped on your head and maybe it's not sunshine and rainbows. Maybe it's work, just like everything else in life."

"You might as well just say you don't believe either," he laughs, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. He makes sure to avoid the long black coils. Her skin, normally a medium brown is now helping her fade into the night. "Join the club."

She pushes his side a little, rocking with him when he falls to the right a little. "Fucking sue me for thinking love exist, somewhere out there. Just not for me because I'm bad at it."

"You're not bad at it. You're just too good for anyone."

"That's reassuring," she huffs. "Besides love not existing, is there anything else plaguing you?"

Calum goes quiet, staring up into the black night. Neveah's always been easy to talk to. Calum hates being a downer. He's already sat around and moped. Can he go back to drowning out the sorrow? He sips at his beer this time. "Second beer still on the table?"

"It's got your fucking name on it."

He sighs. She leans into him, a small gesture that she is right there for him, ready for whatever he has to say. "I'm so lonely. I'm not alone. I have people. But I don't have that one person you know? I told myself all I needed was music, my friends and my dog. But maybe that's not true. I want a family. I want kids, ya know. I just don't think I'm capable of it sometimes. Walls too high, hurt too many times and all that jazz."

"You're capable. You've just gotta trust again. It won't be easy."

"No one's got the patience for me, not that I fault them."

"That's what you think. But someone does. You're very sweet and caring."

"I'm polite," he counters, downing the rest of his can. "I was raised to be polite. It shouldn't be a shock."

"No, besides the random stranger," she huffs. "Besides the letting animals cross the road and besides helping the elderly person in the grocery store, besides that you care deeply for the people you put in your life. Whoever cracks that wall of yours is gonna have a great man on their hands. You just have to be willing to put in the work to change. You've gotta meet them halfway."

She's right; he doesn't want to admit that. Every time he meets them halfway he gets burned. How much longer can he be expected to stick his neck on in the fire? He squeezes the can, forgetting it's empty. His jaw flexes, she notes. "I'll go get you that second beer."

"It's not you. Just a long week," he says softly, not quite facing her. He can see her fishnets tucked into ankle-high boots and the end of her skirt in his peripheral vision. She stares down at him, half her body tucked into the warmth of the house, half exposed to the biting chill of the night.

"I know," she answers softly. Then with a wistful smile, Neveah reclines into the door molding. "Maybe you should create a pact with someone. Say by 27 if you and someone else aren't in a relationship, just have a kid together. It'd be like the romcoms."

Calum laughs, staring out into the backyard. "Could I ask you?"

"Mr. I-Don't-Believe-in-Love and then me, Ms. Who-Knows-If-Love-Exists-For-Me having a kid together. That's quite the sight, but sure, why not? What the fuck would I have to lose?" she laughs, sliding into the house. "Cracking a cold one with your girl comin' up," she hums, closing the door behind her.

When she returns, two cans tucked under her arm, she hands one to Calum and then opens one for herself. "Bet money your kid is going to look so much like you, it's going to be like you spit them out. Like you and Momma Joy. She will never be able to deny you," she says to Calum's hunched figure.

He exhales another soft laugh. "Love her. Miss her too."

"When's the last time you talked?"

"Couple weeks."

"Whenever you do talk to her, tell her I said hi."

"I will," he whispers between gulps. "But my kid will be cute. Gets it from his dad." 

She softly releases her laughter. Her sip is the only sound against the silent night. Her hands tremble a little from the chill. She hates seeing him like this, hunched over, a can in his hands dangling between his legs, head tucked to his chest. She knows he'll be reaching into his left pocket for the pack and lighter. And sure enough, the hand comes up to his jacket. But instead of sliding into the jacket, they grab the front. His arms wind back and out of the sleeves. He stands, pulling his right arm free finally and hands it over to her.

"I can hear your teeth chattering," he grins. She slips into the sleeves and pats the pockets.

Her hand slip inside and grab the small cardboard pack. Pulling the box out, she taps it twice, pulling a cigarette out and dangling it between her teeth. Neveah doesn't smoke. "Got a light?"

Calum shakes his head, a grin lighting up his face. Only her. Only she would do something like this. He reaches into the right pocket and pulls out the lighter, giving it a light shake between his fingers. "Looks like you had one all along."

"Oh, would you look at that," she mumbles around the butt of the cigarette. Calum pulls on it, removing it from her lips and wraps his around the same spot hers once were.

He stands to her left, away from the door, leaning against the railing. He covers the end of the cigarette, watching the paper burn as the flames lick it. "You're killing yourself, you know," she mutters, watching the nicotine and paper burn, curling up and falling into ashes at their feet.

"I'm killing the horse," he retorts. "Remember, he's the one sitting on my chest."

"Well, just don't kill yourself in the process."

"No plans to, but I can't make any promises."

__

It's album, tour, album, tour. But finally, finally, there's a break. It's only a year at first. Then they realize, again, like most major shifts, more time is required. One year turns into almost two. Making an album in L.A. turns into taking some time off at home in Sydney. His mother smiles as he slides the plate over to her. "Cooking for me yet again?" she jokes.

"Gotta treat you right," he grins, then turns back to the stove. Joy watches her boy. He seems alright, but she knows he can hold too much onto his soul before it cracks.

"How about treating yourself right?" she probes with a hum. He's getting older, nearing 29, almost thirty, but makes no mention of a partner. She knows the pain, the betrayal. She just prays he doesn't stop him, doesn't hold him back.

"I'm alright, Mum."

She nods, humming again. "Just alright?"

"I'm okay. I'm good. I'm–alive, at the very least."

"Alive is good," she answers, grabbing a forkful of the salad in her bowl. "Alive is a start."

Calum's been thinking a long time about how to tell them. He stares at the pristine backsplash of his childhood home, trying to think of the right words. He knows the backsplash all too well. She finally got most of the grease stains out, he notes. He remembers when he was barely tall enough to see into the oven, the moment when he could see the top of the stove. He remembers running after Mali, hearing her laughter when he finally manages to catch up with her. He wants that. He wants something other than the sound of Duke's paw on hardwood floors.

"I want a kid," he says, turning around, facing his mother and father. Joy's grip on the fork slackens. His father clears his throat.

"What was that?' David asks, in his thick accent. Calum remembers how hearing that sometimes as a kid would scare him. It's not a disciplining tone to his voice now; it's shock, confusion, the lilt of 'did I hear that right?' laced in his voice.

"I said I want a kid."

"Like adopt a kid?" Joy tries. That's going to be hard for him. He'd be a single father, constantly traveling, long hours away from home at the studio.

Calum shakes his head. "No, like try with someone."

"Who?" both his parents ask. He's never mentioned anyone to them. "With a donor?"

Calum shrugs. "Of sorts. It may not work out. It's just a thought. Just one option. If it doesn't work, then I try the 'old fashion' way and whatever avenues I can go down. But I-It's just-"

"You need to try. Need something or someone else," Joy finishes, her grip tightening back again around the utensil. "I understand." 

David looks at her, eyes trying to read what exchange is happening between mother and son. They speak in a language he sometimes does not understand, not Māori, he's used to that. It's silent. It's something in their gut shared between them in nods and glances. He's never been able to decipher it. He may never be meant to understand it.

When Calum returns to L.A. after picking up Duke, he makes a pit stop. It's about noon, he knows where Neveah will be. He strides into the coffee shop. And sure enough there she is, standing about four from the counter, hair tucked up into a pineapple, the curls gelled a little in the back. He waits off to the side until she's next. He slides in next to her, sliding a ten across the counter to the man.

"Add a venti black iced coffee to that receipt too. Extra strong."

The boy nods. "Not a problem." He turns around, grabbing cups and wrapping their orders around them, scribbling her name on both cups.

"Back in town, huh?" she laughs, smiling up at him.

"It would appear so," Cal smiles. "Mum says hi and she hopes you're taking care of yourself."

Waving a hand over herself, she grins. "I think I'm holding up just well." When her name is called, Calum grabs both cups and she takes Duke's leash. They settle outside. Duke climbing into Calum's lap, sniffing at the straw.

Calum spins the cup a little, barely a sip into the drink. How does he bring up that pact? It was years ago. They weren't necessarily drunk but they definitely weren't on the path to sobriety. "Can I ask you something?" he starts, finally.

"I knew something was on your mind."

"Do you remember six years ago?" He takes a breathe, playing at the lid. Is she even going to remember? He keeps talking. "It was at one of Ashton's parties, we were making the fourth album. I told you I wanted kids. But I was on that whole love sucks kick and you joked about the romcoms that have that pact thing where neither one of them–"

"I remember," she interrupts softly. "I told said that you could ask me. Because we would make quite the pair." Her laughter falls out in tufts, soft and breathy, exhaling from her nose mostly. "What about it?"

Calum blinks. There's no beating around the bush, no softening this question. He flicks his gaze to her, she's looking at him patiently, lips wrapped around her black straw. "Would you consider having a kid with me?"

She blinks, jolting just a little. "Oh, oh, fuck. Seriously?" 

Calum nods, swallowing the thickness forming in his throat. She's going to say no, he can feel it. She's taking too long to answer.  He blabbers on, "If you don't want to, I totally understand. A baby's a huge responsibility, but I–I'm at a point where the band's finally slowing down and I know I want a family. No, it's not the traditional route. Maybe it's the route for me, ya know. If you're not comfortable, I'll figure something else out."

Her fingers wrap around his. Calum finally looks back to her, after staring down at the cup and his dog. "You'd still need me then, idiot. You'd call me late at night, and lord knows, I would move in to be there for your baby. Even if you went a different way, that baby needs a motherly figure."

"So?" he asks, pausing, unsure of what she's implying. Certain she wouldn't go for this. It's crazy, right? Insane. Asinine. Here he is, asking one of his best friends to have his baby. Certainly, she'd turn the suggestion down. He knows she'll always be there, but for this? Offering more than just her body, her time, her life for him, for his desire to have something else to love.

"I'll do it."

"You'll what? Are you sure?"

"I'll have your baby, Calum." Her grin is soft. "I'm clearly not getting any younger. My love life is down the fucking drain. You'd make a great father. And this means I get to sucker you into being into my life for at least another 18 plus years," she smiles.

Calum finds his glee bubbling in his chest. He tightens his hold around her fingers. "Something tells me even without you agreeing to this, you'd be in my life for a really long time. But thank you. So much."

"Well," she laughs, "let's make this day count because after this bye bye coffee and deli meats."

Hearing her say that makes it twice as real. Calum exhales hard, bringing the straw to his lips. They sit hand in hand for a moment or two longer before she pulls her hand away. Sure, it's crazy to agree to have your best friend's baby, but it's not like everything in her life has been perfectly sane or easy. It's not like she hasn't been thinking about a kid. Though, in addition to her own desires, she had witnessed what the loneliness does to him, sees how sometimes he becomes a shell of his former self. A kid won't fix everything wrong in his life, but he's talked about having a kid lot lately. Always points to a seat, or stroller, and gushes at how cute the baby inside is. She has to ask. Just to make sure. "Cal, you know a kid isn't going to miraculously change your life, make it all better, right?"

"I'm not looking for a kid to fix everything. I know I can still be reserved. I know a kid won't make me an open book. I know I'm going to be traveling eventually. I know my life isn't ideal. But I want a family. I want the chance to give something back. I need this for me. I've already gotten serious about quitting smoking. I know it's not a lot, but I'm trying. The guest room would be the perfect bedroom for a baby. I'm thinking yellow, maybe a soft orange. That way it's not too girlie or too boyish. I have some money set aside too to help with doctors appointments. Getting pregnant is the hardest part, or so I've read. Miscarriages are a lot more common than I ever realized. There's a great OB/GYN facility about ten minutes from my house. I went in before leaving for home. They gave me some pamphlets to read."

"Someone's done their homework. So, tell me, what's next?"

"Well, I guess step one is to make sure we're both good to go. We go get some tests and see if we get the green light from there." Calum scratches at Duke's head, watching her nod and stare out over the foot traffic. "And then," the thought catches in his throat. Do they have sex? Do they go to a doctor's office?

Her laughter is loud and sudden. "Is the Calum Hood bashful about sex?"

"Well, ya know, it's a way. I just wanted to make sure you were comfortable with it. There are other ways I'm sure."

With a shrug to her shoulders, she reclines into her seat. "I know a fertility clinic, was a secretary there for a couple of months. Let's start there, make sure none of us are experiencing any issues. Though," she shrugs again, lips curling into a grin, "I'm not opposed to a more natural approach."

The heat rises quickly to his cheeks, but he leans forward, careful of Duke's body pressed close to him. "What are you saying, huh? Fantasized about me?"

The air fills with her bark of a laugh. "Once, maybe twice. After you bulked up, I'll admit to a scan here and there. You weren't the lean kid I had met in that Starbucks."

Calum rests against the cool metal of his seat. It's been a long ass time. He's nearly her for nearly a decade. It somehow feels so much shorter than that, but somehow longer too. "It's really been a decade, hasn't it?"

"Over a decade actually. I visited London about twelve years ago." She was there for a summer program before going to university and hadn't even noticed Calum. Until they collided. Thankfully, the whipped cream to her drink was the only casualty, though her jacket and his suffered wounds. The whipped cream was easy to remove and didn't stain. But there he was, voice still a little high, but somehow still low and hushed, wristband peeking out beneath his sleeves, big brown eyes terrified. He apologized profusely, the accent sitting on her brain and making her more curious as to why he sounded so Australian. She thought he was cute but never in her league.

But he had surprised her. He asked if she was free that weekend to hang out and make up another way for getting whipped cream on her jacket. They hung out at the mall, mostly near the food court, talking. He said he was in a band, was actually working on some new music. She was talked about school; Calum admitted school wasn't his thing. Though, she consistently told him he was incredibly intelligent and school wasn't for everyone. They hung out occasionally since he was becoming busier in the studio and talked mostly through messenger. The summer ended, she went back to the states. That hasn't stopped their friendship. He moved to LA for music; she was in Arizona for school. He made a trip to see her, the first time he had seen her in person in years. It was like nothing happened like they hadn't spent years of their friendship behind computer screens.

About a year after she finished graduate school, she made the move to LA, or more like back home. Her mother was having some health issues. Her dad needed some extra hands at home. Her younger brother was still at school; so she went back home. Things with her mom improved. Neveah moved into her own place with a roommate, worked some part-time gigs until she found herself now a program coordinator at the small museum in town. Their friendship had always been easy, never awkward, or sexually charged. But it didn't mean they didn't talk about it. Calum sometimes found it easier to talk to her than any of the boys, including Ashton.

Calum's not afraid to admit that over the course of their friendship, he had considered making a move on her, once at the start. But he could never truly bring himself to do it. Her friendship was much more valuable than whatever lonely horny vortex he might've fallen into. But now, somehow, the smirk on her lips felt right. It's clearly flirty, but it didn't feel like it was overstepping. "Twelve long years, I'm not gonna lie. I thought early on, especially after the band got big, you'd try something with me," she muses.

"I wanted to but never did. I valued you more as a friend."

"Such a gentleman."

"Did you ever wish I had?"

Her lips screw up and to the right. "Not really. Would've probably made things awkward."

"But not now? When I'm asking you to have my kid?"

"No, I'm near 30. I want a kid too, but everyone in this plastic town doesn't seem viable. Using a random donor scares me. I'm not aging in reverse. I know you. It's not ideal. This is doing things like all out of order. But I want to help my best friend out. When the opportunity presents itself, you take it. Even if it seems crazy."

Calum raises his cup of coffee; she mimics the action. "To crazy opportunities when they present themselves."

"To crazy opportunities when they present themselves," she echoes and gently taps her cup against his.

__

Calum's sure he's going to drown in pamphlets. There's almost too much to know, makes him feel like he's in school again. He knows he must know it. The good news is that both of them don't have any issues. Now it's a question of how. That sends both of them back down the vortex of more pamphlets, artificial insemination was one that kept coming back home. Not that he was against having sex with her. They had tried it once. It ultimately failed when she made one too many smart comments.

It's hard to get into the mood when the person you're trying to seduce keeps laughing, reminding you of all the embarrassing shit you did when you were a kid, asking if this is how you seduce all your other partners. The moment that sentence left her lips, Calum knew them having sex to get her pregnant would be a far-fetched option. He laughed, resting his forehead onto her collarbone. "I swear to God, if you don't shut up, my dick will never get hard."

"Ya know as much as I should be upset by that sentence, I find myself only amused."

"You're...Jesus, woman. We can't have sex if you want to bring up all the shit awkward seventeen-year-old me did. Like you weren't exactly all put together yourself. You managed to dump an entire bowl of cereal on yourself while sitting."

Neveah slapped his bare back lightly. "I was laughing too hard and tipped the bowl a little too far."

"Yeah, sure, blame it on laughing." That night ended with a marathon of the Great British Bake-Off since it was his turn to control the Netflix. That night also landed them here, attempting to artificially inseminate at home. The process is no less awkward, a huge game of jacking off for Calum pretending like his best friend isn't just a few rooms away. Then it's a long process for her as well, but they make it work. They talk about it, make jokes, her favorite line is, "Huh, sounded like quite the adventure for you."

To which Calum always laughs a little with a shake of his head, responding with, "Your number's up next. Get ready."

Calum's not even intending to hear the statement that filters out through the door on his walks back inside from the backyard. Duke had been itching to get out and Calum always tries to give her as much space as possible. When on his way to refill his glass of lemonade, he catches her voice from behind the door.

"Fingering myself is easier than this, and that's some work," Neveah mutters to herself. Calum freezes outside the door, trying desperately to hold back his laughter. But a snicker or two falls past his lips. "Shut up! I'm doing this for you!" she shouts from behind the closed door.

Calum rests his head against the closed door, shoulders shaking with laughter. This is her second attempt for at-home insemination. Calum's offered to pay to do this at a doctor's office, even their doctor from the fertility clinic said that it would be a difficult process to do on oneself. They went on to explain that there was a risk for infection and that doing it at their office would be the safest way. But Cal could see the way her smile only turned up her lips to a polite degree and knew immediately she was going to disregard that.

"I could help you know," he says between his breathes of his laughter. Her grumbles are intangible. "I don't speak mumble," he retorts.

"Fine, I need your help."

Calum opens the door to see her lying on her back, hips pushed up by a couple of towels, one draped over her lap. "Quite the sight."

"It's about to get a whole lot prettier because you're going to get acquainted with my vagina and cervix."

More laughter shakes his shoulders as he eases into the room, placing his empty glass on the bedside table. "Hmm, I love it when you talk medical to me." He sits next to her bent knees, gently resting a hand on her towel covered thigh. "Now, what do I need to do?"

Neveah explains the process, he has to make sure the syringe goes in as far as it can, to be careful. She shows him how to empty it and to leave it for about fifteen seconds before removing it slowly. "I just have trouble with the angle because I'm nervous."

"No need to be nervous. It takes a few tries as the doctor said." Calum washes his hands in the adjacent bathroom. "Want me to put on gloves?"

"At this point, I'd just like for this to work. But, nah, unless you're concerned." He grabs one, sliding it over his hand and takes the crazy shaped syringe from her. They don't have too much more time before they miss the hour window, but Calum takes a moment, putting a hand on her lower stomach, lowering his voice a little.

"I know this is crazy, but it's okay. Things will happen when they need to."

"You guys are almost done with this album, before long you'll be gone, touring. There will be a huge gap in time."

He nods. "There will be but right now we've got a shot and I'm going to be there the entire way."

"You kind of have to be," she laughs. "I need you in order to have your kid."

"Details, details, details," he grins, moving his hand to her hand, giving it a squeeze. She gives a short-lived smile, before inhaling deeply. Music, Calum finally notices, plays faintly in the background. It's her instrumental playlist, soft sounds of piano hitting the air. He lifts the towel just a tiny bit to see. Normally this is a view that turns out differently. This is a view starts with an NDA and ends with him naked and breathless. Right now, it feels different. It's intimate as he gets her to relax. However, instead of a hunger to feed his own desire, he is filled with a surge of uncertainty. He feels her nerves too.

She squeezes at his forearm. "This feels weird. Like strangely intimate, but still oddly medical."

Calum nods, clearing his throat and meets her gaze again. The eye contact helps a little bit. Less strange, still oddly medical. "Yeah, it is a little strange."

She squirms just a little before releasing her hold. "Okay, let's do this. We've got like ten minutes left."

"That's still 600 seconds. Take another deep breath."

Her chest rises, lungs filling with air before she pushes it out slowly. Calum brings the syringe closer to her body, hovering just outside of her. "It's okay, I'm good," Neveah states softly. Her voice sounds kind of far away. Almost without thinking as he slides the contraption into her, he finds himself gently rubbing at her calf and thigh with his non-gloved hand. Her skin is mostly smooth. He plunges his seed into her, a slow and steady press. "Has anyone told you, you have really pretty eyes?" she asks suddenly.

Calum's too focused on making sure he doesn't pull it out too soon. There's a small lull. As he pulls the syringe out, he finds himself responding. "Not really, not that I could remember."

"Well, you do. They look like melted toffee in bright sunlight. Then they can be this rich dark brown. When you talk about your mom or family they lighten a little. I'm not sure if it's like actually happening, but they look lighter."

She stares directly at him as she speaks, unphased by what's happening. Like it was just a normal conversation at the dining room table or something. Calum's thankful, that made it a little easier. He brings the towel back down to cover her. "Thanks, I-uh, no one's paid that much attention."

"I've practically moved in at this point. You've got yourself your own personal observer."

He can't understand why the statement makes him bashful. He looks down to the bedspread, the smile softly resting on his face. "Thanks, again." After removing the glove, he stands, going to clean the syringe but pauses at his bedroom door. "Do you need anything? Snack? Water?"

She shakes her head no. "I'm good. Thanks though."

"I know this might be strange to admit, but you've got a more prominent dimple on your right cheek than your left when you smile and it's really cute when you laugh really hard. Mostly because you can really see it."

Her eyes widen, a small gasp leaving her. Neveah is silent for a moment before she whispers, "The only other people to mention that are my parents. I didn't think others noticed it."

Calum reaches up, scratching at the back of his neck, a smile briefly crossing his lips. "I just really noticed it yesterday when you were watching that stand up routine."

"Wonder what else we notice about each other." 

Calum nods and finally exits the room to clean everything. He's noticed a thing or two, like how she almost always closes the lower cabinets and drawers with her hip and how she always taste test something with her pinkie, how she has a dimples in her butt too, and how after a day at work heels and the skirt are usually the first things to go, her bra is quick to follow. She does most of her cleaning in the evenings too, almost like she's gotten her second wind of the day. He's noticed a lot, he thinks, shocked at how long the list is in his head.

__

Duke climbs off her lap at the sound of keys in the door. She pushes up from the sofa, her limbs heavy with sleep still. The TV's still a soft blue hue washing over the grays and blues of the sofa and dark brown coffee table. Calum kneels, petting and scratching Duke. He notices the TV first and then her sleepy figure. "I'm sorry," he whispers. He hadn't realized she has stayed up again waiting for him.

Neveah hums, waving it off. "I shouldn't have. I hadn't planned to still be up here. But then some crazy movie came on and I got intrigued," she shuffles into the kitchen, covering up a yawn. "I made pork chops if you're hungry."

Calum follows in behind her, pulling the jacket off his shoulders and unzipping his boots. "I've got it. Don't worry. Thanks."

"Welcome, sugar." The nickname falls all too easily from her lips. She doesn't even think twice about it; she can't. Until it's already off her lips. "Shit, sorry."

Calum finds himself wrapping her into a hug, a chaste kiss to her forehead. "It's alright. Get some rest. Thanks for fixing dinner."

"I should mention it was a scary movie," she pouts. She always does this, knows damn well horror movies freak her out but still watches them by herself.

"My bed always has an open invitation. I'll be there soon."

"Thanks, Cal. You're the best. One of these days, I'll stop watching them all alone."

"That's a damn lie. But I promise nothing's going to get ya. Not with me here now. Also, you had Duke. He's big and scary."

"Duke is just a grandpa," Neveah laughs.

She walks down the hallway. Calum eats, going in for seconds because the meat is so tender it falls off the bone and melts just at the thought of it touching your tongue. After showering and brushing his teeth, he slides into his bed. She's curled onto her side.

Sensing his presence, she turns to face him, gently holding to his bicep. "I probably shouldn't bore you with today."

Calum turns to his side, tracing her cheek. "Bore me. What happened?"

"Know how I was supposed to take those two tests today?"

"Yeah."

"I couldn't. I couldn't bear seeing not pregnant again."

"It's alright. Tomorrow, I'll be here. We can do it together tomorrow. There's still time. Come here," he breathes, pulling her into his chest, wrapping an arm around her. "I've got you. It's not easy, I know. But you've always got me."

They've been trying with the at-home kits for months now. This is their fourth attempt if he's keeping track right. Calum's frustrated but not nearly as her. He can't fathom the kind of guilt she feels. She has nothing to feel guilty about. It takes time to get pregnant. That's a fact neither of them truly understood the weight until now. He isn't going to give up on her, even if she wanted to give up on herself. He would always be right there for her.

[antique-teacups]

sunshine in L.A.

A/N: kind of an original character piece but also not entirely.  i just was having a great time writing! hope you folks enjoy!

word count: 3k

There was something about her twenties that never felt quite right, worn like a sweater a size to large. She watched as her friends floated from relationships and friendships seamlessly, while she felt caught. In what exactly, she wasn’t sure. Part of her hoped with time that feeling would fade, become background static instead of pumping along with her heartbeat. Going with the current, she did exactly what was expected of her. Attended college, albeit a community college, but college none the less. Part time work covered what financial aid wouldn’t, even scraping enough together to buy a beater car.

Time drifted on and the feeling stayed, haunting and hollow. Avoiding the problem didn’t lessen its size but it never grew. In the back of her mind constantly. Social media was the worst part, watching her friends flourish and flower, while it took everything in her to remain sane and present. Two years flew by in the blink of an eye and she were left with a tiny degree she was not sure she really wanted. When the opportunity did present itself, she knew it was one she could not possibly pass up.

She knew that even in L.A these demons could surface but maybe the constant sun could choke them out. Packing her meager belongings into the back of her car, she pointed it in the direction of L.A. Whether she actually ended up in the sunshine state wasn’t the point, but rather, it was to get out. Stop the cycle before it became the only focal point of her life. It took longer than it should’ve, she passed the days slowly. Each spent behind the wheel simply heading west.

L.A. was a zoo. She worked your way through the city with fascination and hopefulness. She was certain of one thing and uncertain of many. She hoped to write but was willing to do just about anything to make money. Well, just about anything, she still harbored some self-respect.

L.A. had of a way of worming its way into your heart, no matter how shitty people made it seem. Each self-respecting L.A citizen hated the city as much as they loved it. She found a decent studio apartment, managed to get a job as a barista quickly, and spent the first month slinging caffeine in the daytime and writing into the wee hours of the morning. Cash was always tight, considering she did live in one of the most expensive cities, but there was semblance of happiness. It was clawing it’s way in on the edges of her life.

The customers were not particularly strange, at least not always. There were a couple of memorable moments, but most days passed by in monotony. She knew customers by their orders, not names. These small moments between the register and picking up their coffee offered she a small window into their world. These hints they dropped left her wondering about their lives outside their order and these four walls. Who were these people who flocked to the shop like cattle to slaughter?

She certainly played favorites, every barista did, with both customers and coworkers. There were those who made the days a little brighter. The first was her coworker James. Somewhere in his twenties like her but an old soul. He came to work in sweaters, cooper rimmed circular glasses, and disheveled hair on the daily. He was welcoming and warm and chased away some of the darkness.

The two of them became instant friends. He would wait after work to hang out, get drinks on the weekend, and spend Sunday brunch complaining about his hangover. At first, she was confronted with the concern that maybe he was worming into her life in hopes of it ending in a relationship, but as soon as she met his boyfriend Scott, that fear was put to rest. In a way, she chose the two of them as family. She spent countless hours with them, at ease with the way things were.

In James, she confided most of her fears and a lot of her guilt. The backstory of her life surprising him but explaining the front she put up. Tragedy often bores the strongest soldiers. In the year she had been in L.A, James helped her pick up the pieces and put herself together, an unrepayable favor. Thanksgiving was right around the corner and she were destined to spend it with James and Scott.

“James, I’m running to the grocery store after work and if you play your cards right there might just be a bottle of Prosecco with your name on it.” she joked over the espresso machine, a sly smile on her lips. James and her always bantered at work, often to the amusement of the customers and other coworkers.

James matches her smile, “Oh honey, you act like I would actually need to play my cards to get it, I’ve got you wrapped around my finger.” He chuckles and turns back to the drawer. The day was getting late, closing time just mere hours away. She was practically counting down the hours till she could curl up on his couch and binge “New Girl”, the new obsession for the two of them.

“I like to pretend it’s the other way around, but I would admit you are right, James. But besides that, anything else?” she asked, hardly looking at him. There was unspoken communication between you two most days, a glance could tell a story. “I was thinking pizza this fine Wednesday night. But I’m certainly open to suggestions.”

“And break the Wednesday night pizza tradition, how absurd!” James feigns hurt, a hand over his heart and concerned expression painting his face. “The table is already set, we can’t go making changes now, silly girl.”

“Then pizza and prosecco it is. Perfect.” She giggled and sent a curt nod in his direction. The entire conversation was an open invitation for him to change the plans, but he never did. Wednesday night was always reserved for the two of them. They devoured pizza and whatever show they were working on. It was sacred to them both.

The rest of the day passed quickly, the sun just barely setting when she and James locked the shop doors. A brief hug and a quick exchange of words and the two of them were off in opposite directions. A pit stop at the grocery store and then to James’ place. He would order the pizza in, as per tradition. Tasked with grabbing the drinks and whatever bits she needed, she would be to his place shortly.

Her car sat tucked in the back lot, warm from sitting in the sun. Cranking the window open once she had climbed inside, turning on the radio, she set off to the grocery store. It was smaller than most that scattered around L.A, which is why it was her favorite. She did not have to fight the yoga obsessed mothers to get through the aisles or hope the hipsters didn’t pick through the all the good stuff before she got a chance to be there. The old man, who she assumed owned it, knew her by name. Often, he would gift products just a day out of date to her. He did save your ass more than once.

“Charles, what’s the good word for today?” She asked, swinging the door open and nabbing a basket.

Smiling, he gushed, “I beat the finalist in Jeopardy today, but I’m here and he’s there,” shrugging he went on, “I put some of those cookies you like in the back, they went out of date yesterday, Dandelion.” Charles had been using the nickname since she had started coming here. She was totally convinced he had to be her guardian angel. When she asked him where it came from, his response surprised her. “Like the weed, you always come back. You are full of fire and strong. I can see it.” She felt partial to this grocery store. She ended up here for a reason.

“Great, I was craving something sweet all day. Remind me, I have got something for you in my bag before I go. Don’t worry, nothing poisonous.” Jokingly she added.

Charles had a love for Jim Harrison. Often when she was browsing at old bookstores or garage sale’s she would stumble across one for him. He probably owned nearly every single book published by Harrison, but always acted thankful and surprised when she presented him with another. She wanted to make sure he knew how much she appreciated him in a way of more than just saying thank you.

She scanned the aisles looking for the familiar packaging of her favorites. She hardly noticed the boy till she had practically run into his back.

“Another one in Charles good graces, a rare species.” He teased.

Chuckling, “That must mean there are people on Charles bad side, which I highly doubt.” He was home strung, as far as she could tell. Clean cut and not looking for a lot of attention, judging by his all black attire. “I’m assuming you’re one of the lucky ones, too.” She implored.

“Thankfully, I have managed to make my way into one of his chosen few. Even without it, I would still come here. This is the only grocery store where I don’t have to cross my fingers and hope all the good stuff isn’t picked over. Charles seems to have a force field to keep this place hidden. Certainly, the best kept secret of L.A.,” he pauses, searching your face, “you work at the coffee shop on Sunset, Eight-Fold Coffee, right?”

“Guiltily is charged, Mr. iced latte with almond milk,” tapping your temple, “steel trap. I only know people’s drinks, not their names, sorry. I was wondering if you looked familiar or if it was just the lighting.”

Extending a hand, cheekily responding, “David. The name’s David Dobrik, or iced latte if you please.”  His smile was easy and charming, you couldn’t help but stare. His entire posture oozed ease, you couldn’t quite decide if he was trying to flirt or simply be friendly. Of course, that wonderful friend called self-doubt started to crawl its way into your chest, so it was time to go.

Flashing him what you hoped was a friendly parting smile, “Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N. It was nice finally meeting in more than just an ‘iced latte with almond milk’ kind of way. I’ll see you around. I have promised the roommate a night in and if I don’t come through, the world might stop turning.” Turning on her heel, tossing David a small wave, she headed for the register. All the things she needed forgotten.

She set the single bottle on the counter and wait for Charles to ring it up. Silence elapses, you lost entirely in your own thoughts.

“Dandelion?”

“Huh, what?” she missed what he asked, cheeks flushing at him catching her in dreamland.

“Lots on your mind today?” Charles inquired, a knowing look on his face.

Smiling and rolling her eyes, “I respect the fishing for a morsel of mind but maybe when inquiring minds aren’t near.” she winks. Digging in your bag, she pulls the book for him, Returning to Earth, out. “I found it at a garage sale this weekend and thought you could add to your collection. But this one, is to expand your horizons.” She pulls The Pleasures of the Damned by Charles Bukowski out. “I’ll need it back but keep it as long as you need, I know where to find you. See you around Charles.” She pays and get ready to go, sneaking one last glance in David’s direction. Grabbing onto her bag with the prosecco and cookies tucked in, she heads for the doors. One last look to the aisles and she can see David still tucked amongst them, scouring for something in the sea. A shake of her head and she is out the doors.

Tossing the bag in the passenger seat, she meanders down the streets towards James. A stampede of thoughts about David comes and goes. It was just mutual acknowledgement that the two of them did in fact kind of know each other. Yet, she found herself wondering if she should tell James about him, see if he had any insight on the guy. The thought felt foolish considering it was just a run in at the grocery store, nothing more.

Charles knew more about her then he let on. He knew her heart was kind but had been through a lot, he knew you were loyal and strong, but he knew also knew when her heart would tell you who to let in. David did not need much from that grocery store, mostly some alone time. His inquiring mind also wanted some more information on the barista who stole his breath away. As he left that day, Charles told him something he would carry with him for a while. “People like her, they guard their hearts, but hers is golden. It won’t always be shut.”

Opening the door to James and Scott’s apartment, she could smell the pizza. Her mouth was already watering. James rounded the corner into view between the small kitchen and living.

“I was beginning to wonder if you bailed.” He poked.

“On you, never.” Rolling her eyes.

“I am almost flattered.” He made for the bag in her hand, noticing the cookies right away. “Charles treats you like your one of his own grand kids. One of the people placed on that golden list.”

“About Charles coveted list, I ran into a guy from the coffee shop. David? Iced latte with almond milk, dresses like an unemployed ninja. Do you know anything about him?” She asked trying to keep the hopeful tone from her voice.

James searches her face before continuing. “A sudden interest in a customer, more like prominent interest. I’ve noticed the favorites you play with him.” He flashes you a joking grin. “I don’t know much about him honestly. I’ve heard whisperings from the other baristas that he has some youtube channel, not much else. He seems nice.” Bumping his shoulder with hers, “It wouldn’t hurt if you tried to be friends with him. It’s not a crime to branch out. I would not be insulted if you did. I worry that maybe you don’t because I take up a lot of your time.”

“Certainly not, you take up a perfect amount of my time. I just, remember how hard it is for me to be friends with people, I guess. I am a lifelong hermit. Plus, if he’s doing that whole ‘social media career’, he might not be the kind of friend I want.” Socializing was never her strong suit and if David’s preferred choice was blasting his life across the platforms, maybe she would take a pass.

The two of you vegged out on the couch way past what was a reasonable time, both scheduled to open tomorrow. He was on her mind all night, the little she knew about him had her mind doing circles. He seemed innocent enough, a good guy if Charles liked him.

 The sun shown through the windows all morning, bringing a warming light to the coffee shop. All day you hoped he would pop in, yet, it went unanswered. Clocking out, she nabbed her notebook and a mug of coffee, making her way to the bank of windows along the window. She tried to keep her mind from wandering, yet it seemed impossible. Perhaps she scared him off.

“I figured you were a writer. Nobody suggests poetry books, Bukowski especially, unless they are a writer. Or terribly sad, but judging by the notebook, I’d say the first.” David said, standing next to you bathed in the afternoon sun. He looked as though he just woke up but in a delicious way. His hair was messy and his eyes warm. She could not help but bath in the light emanating from him.

A small smile spread on her lips, “You’re a fan?”

“I saw it on Charles counter on my out yesterday. A simple Google Search did the trick. Guy seems kind of dark for you.” A blush plays on David’s cheeks. “I was hoping to run into you today. Listen, me and my friends are going to this party tonight, would you be interested?”

“Uh,” glancing behind the counter you see James shaking his yes vigorous, “sure, why not?” It seemed in David’s presence, the hole in her chest seemed to lessen some.

[baekberrie]

☀️rooftop pt.4 ➣bbh☀️

☀️Genre: Romance, angst, fluff,  bakery & island! au

☀️Pairing: Baekhyun x Reader/ oc

☀️Previous  -  Next

☀️Updates every: Wednesday night🌙

You only spread before me

I'm colored with you

You fill my heart

Baby, I will love you till kingdom come...

Not even a second into the kitchen and Mrs.Byun was already in front of the girl, throwing the apron around her neck and waist and tying it with a knot before hurriedly ushering her to her usual spot. On the counter was a recipe already prepared and ready to be followed. Sleep had until she entered the kitchen, still been in her senses, though, the frantic Mrs. Byun had been enough to shake her from the dazed state.  She was, to say the least, a bit startled but rolled up her sleeves and started working nonetheless. Both Mrs. and Mr. Byun were speeding all over the bakery, serving and yelling out orders. The stress was visible not only in them but also in the other employees barely keeping up at the owners' tempo. The girl was only halfway into her dough when Baekhyun suddenly appeared next to her with a ready dough that he was about to shape into buns.

Shyly, the two of them stole a small glance at each other from beneath their lashes, having their eyes meet unexpectedly. That made a very soft smile form on Baekhyun's pink lips as he wished her a good morning, and really, just the mere whisper of his beautiful voice in the morning was enough to make her feel like this day was going to be the best one of her life.

The swelling of her heart was too strong for her to ignore, a beam painted itself on her face and she fully directed it to the black-haired boy by her side, her eyes reflected with his beautiful figure as she let them dance all over him. Taking in his fair and milky skin, his slender hands and pink fingertips, his sparkling blue orbs. Once more, her heart stuttered when Baekhyun allowed her to view the way that his smile widened. Baekhyun had recently started smiling more often- and although she loved that fact, she could really not seem to get used to it. The way it triggered her heart every time, she had no idea what to do about it. Deep down, she was aware of what it was about, but she wasn't going to let her heart acknowledge the truth just yet. Ever since that night at the beach, she had been at her happiest, she liked to say that Baekhyun had finally let her in, perhaps not completely, but just enough.

Nowadays he greeted her with a sweet smile every morning, sometimes he'd come to the rooftop with freshly baked buns for her to have at breakfast and they would eat it together in the most comfortable of silences. He would always come with her to do groceries, insisting that she would get lost although that had by now become an old story. She knew how to move around the island. Although the cold and reserved persona could still show up at times, he had warmed up and it was remarkable. It had really startled her when Baekhyun had once acted so cheerfully so, she had never expected him to be able to let out so much noise. They had simply been playing cards at the tables outside of the bakery when Jongdae had thrown a playful insult at his brother that had been answered with a sour expression, sending Baekhyun's beautiful laughter bubbling out of his throat, leaving her completely in awe as well as surprised. Had her heart just jump because she had absolutely loved that?

How could she ever explain herself? The more days passed, the more this urge within her to get closer to Baekhyun increased beyond her powers to stop it. Not only did she wish to know him better,  but it was also a physical feeling that she had to fight against. She couldn't help it when they would be baking together and the little mole on the corner of his thumb would constantly catch her attention. It made her want to just grab his hand in hers and thread their fingers, to intertwine them. Baekhyun's hands that always looked so artistically beautiful, so soft and flawless. Or when the boy would occasionally meet her on the rooftop, showing up in his oversized clothes that made it barely impossible for her not to cuddle him on the spot.

Byun Baekhyun who had let her in his life. Byun Baekhyun who was slowly taking her heart without knowing it. And she hadn't admitted it yet, but she had never been more ready to give her heart away to someone if it meant Baekhyun.

She had just placed three trays of her usual buns into the oven when Mrs. Byun had come rushing to her once again, way too stressed to even explain a thing as she quickly pushed a piece of paper into her chest. She remained glued onto her spot, wondering if she had imagined Mrs. Byun flashing and disappearing in front of her in the span of three seconds. Eventually, she looked down onto the piece paper and saw an infinite list of groceries that made her frown, this wasn't the usual list of ingredients she'd buy once a week, moreover, they were so many that-

"That's a long list," Came Baekhyun's voice from behind her, making her jump slightly, though she regained her composure quickly, only to be betrayed by her heart that stuttered at the scent of fresh vanilla and flowers that emanated from the blue-eyed boy behind her. She raised her head to meet his gaze, only to regret it, because their faces had ended up being so extremely close. Baekhyun seemed very surprised himself as he barely kept his body from flinching, though just shortly after, a little smile displayed on his lips as he cocked his head to the side.

"Should I accompany you?" He suggested kindly and before she knew it, she had forgotten about the close proximity and beamed at him in pure joy.

"That would be very kind of you, Baekhyun." She smiled, imitating the formal tone that he used with her. Perhaps it was her imagination, but a soft touch of fingers on the curve of her waist lingered, a gentle touch as light as feathers. It quickly disappeared as Baekhyun made his way around her, murmuring a gentle; "Meet me outside",  his lip brushed on the shell of her ear. Shortly after, he was gone again, leaving her burning to ashes with the fire spreading on the surface of her cheeks. Teeth drilled into her lip as she tried to regain her composure. Just why was this happening? Why was he having this damn effect on her? Suddenly making her jumpy and fidgety, self-conscious but at the same time physically attracted to him. On the other side was Jongdae staring at her with an infuriating smirk and wiggling eyebrows, he inhaled:

"Guess who just got herself a date-" The boy announced in the whole kitchen, making her want to disappear but not before strangling him. But since Mrs. Byun had been in such a hurry, she dismissed the idea, keeping it for later. She showed Jongdae her index finger and slid it across her throat in a threatening manner before leaving. In the distance could be heard Jongdae's laughter echoing in the kitchen.

Having taken off the apron and left the kitchen, she could see Baekhyun standing outside the bakery through the glass doors. His black hair was flowing gently with the soft summer breeze. His legs hugged by a pair of ripped jean trunks, the white and oversized tee shirt flickered with the wind, giving her a view of his slightly toned physique as it tightened and loosened up against his body.

As the two walked their way to the center of the island, they could see people rushing in every direction. The corner shops were overflowing with costumers and for a moment she wondered how the two of them were ever going to make it into one of these stores without getting lost in the crowds. People were building up stages and bringing out tents and various decorations, some were setting up new food stalls along the paths. Seeing the unusual view of preparation, she frowned her brows and confusedly asked Baekhyun;

"What is happening? Why is it so crowded today?"

"In a few days is the summer festival, it's a celebration for this Island, that's also why need that many ingredients," He explained while intently following with his eyes the people who were sweating under the island sun just to prepare for this special event.

"Of course, that makes sense, are you guys going?" She asked again, even more curious, Baekhyun let out something that sounded like a chortle.

"Of course, we'll have our own stall too, but closer to the beach where most of the festival's activities will be taking place." Excitedly, she turned to face him, glistening eyes and an expectant expression on her face.

"That sounds so fun-"

"Do you want to come with me?"

"Huh?" She stammered when Baekhyun's voice collided at the same time as hers. His cheeks were slightly pink as he cleared his throat, looking a bit embarrassed but still kept his beautiful orbs on hers as he repeated himself.

"Do you want to come with me to the festival?"

And there it went again, her heart fluttering, but in the happiest way possible.

She beamed so brightly.

☀️☀️☀️

The reflection met her gaze in the dusty mirror of her bathroom. Insecurity was written all over her features as she eyed herself hesitantly, inspecting how the see-through sleeves of her summer dress seemed to cover most of her scars. The way that she had left her home hadn't been an easy one, and in all honesty, she couldn't recall stuffing one of her prettiest clothing into her luggage. But there she was, wearing it, and for that, she gave herself a pat on the shoulder. On the sink rested various makeups products, they didn't belong to her though. Although Mrs. Byun never seemed to wear such things, the girl had tested her luck and asked nonetheless her expectations. She had indeed, been lucky when the lady had shown up with a whole bag of things that she didn't use anymore. That was how she found herself debating about what lipstick would suit the best with her mild yellow-flowy dress that hugged her features ever so beautifully.

To her surprise, she wasn't feeling too uncomfortable in the dress. Well, because it was pretty and because...She blushed at the thought that crossed her mind, but maybe, just maybe, Baekhyun wouldn't mind it if she made herself a little prettier for him. She shook her head.

What was she thinking? Suddenly she felt silly, Baekhyun didn't even seem like the kind of guy who would notice such things. Her eyes shut tightly to force the blush away from her cheeks, trying to regain common sense over her thoughts that had these few days been wandering a bit too far for her heart to handle. It made her feel funny in her chest.

When she was finally done, there was a sparkly and glazed lipgloss gracing her plump lips. The gloss had a soft orange shade to it and a delicious scent of cloudberries. Outside, the sun had already set, leaving the sky in its darker color. The stars sprinkled all over its immensity and the full moon was as bright as ever, just the sight was enough to make butterflies erupt in her belly, fluttering their wings inside of her with excitement. A giddy feeling made its way in her body. She could just sense it, that this night was going to be one that she'd remember her whole life.

As the girl reached the doors, she could already see Baekhyun's back facing her. His silhouette stood tall and the colorful enlightened decorations leading the path to the festival reflected wonderfully on his figure. Red, orange, yellow- pink! An explosion of colors, he was, and it looked as if he had jumped out of a painting. His legs were wrapped in a pair of jeans trunks while his lean torso was hugged by a rather tight tee. She couldn't wrap her mind around the fact that even in such simplicity, Baekhyun looked so unfairly pretty, and it was not fair how it was making her heart skip continuous beats. The girl made her way outside.

When their gazes met outside for the first time, it was the shyest glance they've ever shared, looking from underneath their lashes. A small, almost inaudible gasp left Baekhyun's lips as he unconsciously let his eyes slide from her head down low until up again. A bright red hue immediately spread onto his cheeks but he didn't really say anything. He sent a nod in the direction behind him and she understood right away, and so they moved on to the festival.

The two of them walked quietly next to each other, though the silence was filled with the faint sound of music playing in the distance, chatters of hundreds of people playing games resounded in the whole island. Food stalls were frying and cooking street food, emanating every kind of scents. It wasn't the biggest island, and yet when everyone gathered like this in a few areas only, it gave the impression of it being immense. Though, she loved the colors of summer and night melting together, the noise of people having fun, and the quiet footsteps of Baekhyun next to her.

Although their silence was not uncomfortable, she could still feel that a hint of tension had built up between them. As if they both knew that sooner or later, they'd have to speak with each other, but neither of them had enough courage to. Never had she felt like this before, never had she ever had problems with breaking the ice, and yet- next to him, outside the walls of the bakery or the supermarket, wearing a cute dress- it was definitely out of the ordinary. It was only natural that she felt like that, right? This was very close to a date, and she had never been on a date before. This was a date, right?

In an attempt to break the ice, despite her increasing heartbeat, she gently grabbed the sleeve of Baekhyun's shirt and pulled him towards a game section, one of those classical ones where'd you throw the hoop upon the desired prize. The boy let the girl pull him, though without getting involved as he had no will to play the game. She pulled out a few coins from her pocket and eyed Baekhyun from the corner of her eye, seeing him watching her intently from the side, she gulped.

Baekhyun's patience seemed to be infinite as the girl kept failing every try but was too stubborn to give up and move on to another game. She really wanted that huge teddy bear on the shelf, and she was going to get it. A line had started to form behind her, everyone waiting for her to realize that she was much probably not going to succeed. The owner of the stall kept her sweet smile upon her aging features, though it was obvious how it was starting to strain, she wanted the other costumers to participate as well.  A group of guys that had been standing behind her in line suddenly walked up to her, interrupting her from her hundredth try. Only by looking at the young men, she could tell that they were in hers and Baekhyun's age. The tallest one had his hair styled into soft waves that were parted by a headband, his locks dyed into a cotton candy pink. She couldn't help the hint of a smile on her lips at his large yet cute ears. His constant smirk made him look handsome, she noted.

"Hey girlie, can I get you that teddy bear?" Cotton candy boy offered with an amused grin spreading on his lips, his large chocolate eyes that held her gaze were mischievous, knowing it was what she had been going for the past fifteen minutes. The girl sent him a bright smile.

"That would be a-"

"Absolutely not necessary, thank you and goodbye." Baekhyun suddenly interrupted as he took the hoops from her hands and flashed a fake smile to the group of boys and shooed them away before they could even protest. The girl was, to say the least, completely flabbergasted as she could barely keep in the chortle from bubbling in her throat. Baekhyun kept a sour expression on his face as he directed the hoops towards the teddy bear, muttering angry words underneath his breath, and she wished she could know what was going through his mind at that moment.

To their dismay, Baekhyun turned out to be just as bad of a player as she herself. He stubbornly gave many tries but didn't succeed even one of them. As the two eventually moved on to try various other games, Baekhyun's competitive side had completely unraveled before her, showing a passion for games that she would have never expected to exist. Although the boy was so bad at it, he couldn't stop challenging himself. Though, the challenge didn't go far as they ended up finishing all of their pocket money without a single prize in their hands. Their shoulders dropped in utter defeat, though, the lady at the stall seemed to have grown fond of them as she had watched them play.

"Aigoo don't look so sad my dears!" She cooed sweetly, waving at them to come closer, to which they complied curiously. "You were very sweet trying to win something for each other," A laugh followed the end of her sentence as she eyed the two with twinkling eyes, taking out two pairs of what seemed to be couple bracelets and tied them to their wrists before they could explain that they were not together.

"Now, now, take good care of each other, love birds!" She cheered them goodbye. Baekhyun's face was unnaturally red and the was heat spreading all the way from his neck to his ears as he avoided her eyes for a moment. The girl could feel the blush pulsing on her cheeks as she looked down at her wrist, watching the bracelet spark under the festival lights. She was embarrassed but happy, for some strange reason. Baekhyun seemed shy, but he hadn't denied a thing to the lady, like most people would have done. Why was it making her so ecstatic?

In the midst of her thoughts, the girl hadn't noticed how much more flooded the place had suddenly gotten. She looked to her right to find Baekhyun, only to see that he was completely gone and a cold shiver ran down her spine. They had been standing next to each other just a moment ago, how was it possible to get separated so quickly? Panicked, the girl moved through the crowd, squeezing in between people, though she had really no idea where she was going. She found herself standing in front of a concert stage once free from the sea of people and decided that it would be better for her to stay in one spot in case Baekhyun was looking for her. So she did. On the stage was a lady in her thirties singing a traditional song ever so beautifully, waving her hands and curling her fingers gracefully as she danced. For a moment, she was so taken by the view that she forgot why she was standing there alone in the first place. Her eyes danced all over the lady's features while she performed until her breath suddenly hitched at the sudden touch of two arms sneaking around her shoulders. A defined yet soft chest pressed against her back. The familiar scent of berries and musk reached her senses as a head came snuggling into her shoulder, black hair tickling her neck and the heavy pants landing hotly onto her skin were incredibly familiar.

Her eyes were frantic as she tried to catch a glimpse of the Baekhyun's appearance, though, completely froze when her gaze met with two very familiar doe-like eyes in the distant crowd. She narrowed her gaze, trying to figure out what she had just felt when looking at those eyes, but quickly forgot about it all when Baekhyun pressed her further against his chest, leaning his lips dangerously close to her ear.

"Why is it that you're always making me look for you?" He breathily whispered directly into her ear and his candy scented breath sent goosebumps all over her body. She inhaled and was about to answer when a voice from the speakers of the festival interrupted everyone's actions, leaving her to gasp.

"The firework display will start in ten minutes," The speakers echoed the words and Baekhyun was by then already in front of her, his eyes glinting with something that looked like excitement and mischief, the little grin that played at the corner of his lips sent her heart swelling as if it was about to explode. Seeing him smile felt so indescribably special, something not to take for granted and something to treasure dearly. So she could only let her eyes form into the most bright crescents as she smiled back at him, only to be surprised when he suddenly wrapped his hand around her wrist.

"We got to hurry!" He exclaimed, going in for a run and dragging her along, she was slightly shocked and her heart was beating so loudly in her chest out of nervosity and emotion that she could barely hear her ragged breathing. Even in the midst of a run with the wind pushing against her face could she feel the heat seeping from Baekhyun's touch and into her skin, the sensation sent a bolt of energy buzzing through her veins while her hand acted on its own. She had no idea what was going on in her mind or body when she unhooked her wrist from Baekhyun's touch, only to grab his hand in hers. At the action, Baekhyun visibly flinched as he cast a quick, shocked glance behind his shoulder, giving her a glimpse of his wide eyes before he directed them back on where he was running. From her angle, she could see his cheeks and ears turning into all shades of pink.

Gosh, what was that blooming feeling in her chest? So ticklish and playful, as if there were flowers blooming in her belly, butterflies fluttering their wings in every part of her body. She loved the view of him before her, their touches melting together, she almost laughed out loud in pure bliss and happiness.

She really treasured this boy, didn't she?

"Why are we going away from the festival?" She asked breathlessly as she recognized the path that they were taking as the way back home. Baekhyun only answered with a stressed "You'll see." And she let him lead her.

The closer to the bakery they got, the more she was weirded out, what about the firework display?

They entered the building of the bakery and ran up the stairs, passing by her own apartment, going straight to the rooftop. Baekhyun's hold was still tight on hers as he eagerly led her to the familiar place. His grip left her only when they were by the railing that he leaned over as if he would get a better view of the already immense sky.  It was like a dark blue sheet draped all over the world with glistening diamonds sprinkled upon it. Just a few moments after their arrival, the first firework erupted in a million colors in the very center of the sky, bursting a special and eager feeling in the chests of both. Taking a quick glance at the boy, she could see the awe and amazement emanate from every inch of his body, the colorful explosions reflected in his shining orbs, taking her breath away, not being able to detach her eyes from him.

"You know," He breathed out before allowing himself to return her gaze for a brief moment, though directed it to the sky almost right away as a loud boom resounded, taking in the next set of beautiful glistens. "I used to come here every year, after the summer festival, with my mother and father, and we'd watch the fireworks together, like this." The more he spoke, the softer his voice got, flowing into a solemn tone as he looked above with melancholy. An extremely strong pull burst inside her chest, an urge that overwhelmed her, something that she didn't know how to tame as she stared at the broken beauty in front of her, her chest heaving heavily. "We're here together but..." He let out a sad chuckle, "I can't help but miss them, you know?" He almost choked upon his words as he spoke, eyes starting to glass with water. Upon seeing that, her own heart broke, no, she hated to see him like that, she wanted to make him happy. She, solely.

The girl shocked him when she suddenly, rather harshly by the unusual flow of strength within her, grabbed his collar and dragged him down to her level, pressing her soft lips against his for a short yet lingering kiss. Baekhyun remained unresponsive and overwhelmed with eyes wide and confusion pooling within them.

"I will be your family, Baekhyun," she breathed out, her heartbeat erratic and echoing in her ears. "If you'll let me, I'll be, and we'll watch these fireworks every year, together- just know that I'm here now and that you don't have to consider yourself alone anymore and- oh my gosh I am so sorry I shouldn't have kissed you without your permission, and what the hell is wrong with me? I haven't even admitted that I like you yet- wait did I just? Oh my gosh-" Before she knew it, Baekhyun had grabbed her cheeks, surprising her with her same acts. His tightly shut eyes came into her view as he clumsily pressed his lips to hers, the warmth on his cheeks hit her own skin.

"Don't make promises that you can't keep... please." He susurrated brokenly, eyes dancing over her features.

"I swear, Baekhyun, I'll stand by you," she murmured meaningfully back. Baekhyun couldn't help himself when he leaned dangerously close again, his eyes still on hers although sleepy and hoody, the curiosity of feeling her lips again surged within him.

"I have such strong feelings for you...You can't back away" He said before connecting their mouths, molding them perfectly as he nibbled sweetly on her lips, his thumbs automatically drawing lazy circles on the apples of her cheeks. Shivers traveled down his body when she fisted his shirt and kissed him back, tilting her head and capturing his lips way more skillfully than he could ever have managed. He found himself loving the soft texture of her lips, how they'd stick to his own as if they were brushed with a layer of sugarcoated glue. They parted for a breath of air, but he felt way too disappointed about it to even explain it to himself, it had been such a special thing- a kiss- he hadn't expected it to make him feel so many things at once. His mind was clouded, but he wanted to know more about this feeling.

"More," He murmured before crashing his lips on hers all over again, surprising himself by how widely he had parted her lips with his, brushing his careful tongue over the surface of her cushions before gently sucking on her sweet lips. Their lips parted with a moist noise, his hands were still on her cheeks, their foreheads pressed together as they panted. His eyes were closed, eyelashes tickling each other's cheekbones, this urging feeling never leaving his body. He tilted his head and murmured;

"Again, please,"

☀️☀️☀️

As the light of the morning made its way inside of her room she laid still in her bed, gaze attached to the ceiling. Ever since she had gotten back yesterday night, her heart hadn't stopped fluttering, not even for a second, while the feeling of Baekhyun's lips on hers- the feeling of his hands in hers, they were still fresh and pulsating on her skin. Her chest expanded with such strong emotions- it wasn't mere affection and happiness, truly, it felt as if there were two hearts swelling behind her ribcage. She hadn't gotten a single wink of sleep and yet she felt as wide awake as she could ever be. Curling up into a ball, she fisted her shirt right on the spot above her chest, whining a bit to herself.

"Aren't you tired yet? Stop fluttering already-" Her little conversation with herself had ended right away when she had gotten a glimpse of the time on the alarm clock on her nightstand and she bolted up from her bed. Mrs. Byun had said that it was okay to sleep in a bit but she had definitely crossed the line by being two hours late. Quickly, she threw on one of the old dresses that Mrs. Byun had given her, tied her hair up and freshened up before sprinting down the stairs in the span of five minutes.

The bakery was empty but nonetheless, everyone was busy doing something. Junmyeon was cleaning the tables while Jongdae polished the windows, Mr. Byun was nowhere to be seen but the girl guessed he was taking care of the kitchen with Mrs. Byun.

"So you finally graced us with your presence," Jongdae teasingly called after her when he noticed her standing still and lost in her thoughts, the action had snapped her immediately out of her trance. It was only when the boy handed her a broom that she noticed how a certain someone was missing and without hesitating, she stopped Jongdae from going back to his work.

"Where is Baekhyun?" She questioned and the brows furrowed on Jongdae's forehead in deep thought, he then wiggled them suggestively with the infamous smirk of his sneaking upon his lips. "Why?" He sang cockily, "You had him the whole night yesterday, miss him already?" At that, she couldn't do anything to stop the heat from spreading on her cheeks. Not much at what he had said - but rather because of the images of last night replaying in her head as if frames of a film, perhaps the most beautiful one she had ever seen- lived- but that endless tease of a Jongdae didn't have to know that. Puffing her cheeks, she gave him a light punch on the arm and the boy played along, faking hurt as he dramatically grabbed his arms and whining out loudly, a noise by now familiar to every employee.

"Oh stop it!" She groaned, "I am serious Jongdae, do you know where he is?" It was visible in the mischievous glint in his eyes that he had no intention to answer her question seriously, her urge was amusing him and the long cleaning session had bored him to no end. The plan to have some fun was though backfired when his older brother, Junmyeon, hit him unexpectedly on the head from behind, earning a painful hiss from Jongdae.

"What was that for-"

"Cut it, Dae," The few words were enough to shut the younger male up and the girl watched Junmeyon as if he had just performed the world's most outstanding magic trick. When Jongdae was in the mood, he would never stop teasing.

"Geez, fine! None of you people are fun to be with," He complained, scratching his neck rather embarrassed from the scolding he had just received from his brother. "I don't know where he is by the way." Jongdae eventually revealed, not masking the slight hint of concern glistening in his eyes.

During her whole working shift, there was no sight of Baekhyun anywhere and the fact was making her heart expand with anxiety, but she was not the only one. The girl had approached Mrs. Byun for further explanations but it had turned out that she was just as clueless and worried as her, clutching onto the little vague note that the boy had left on the fridge that morning.

As the sun was lowering behind the horizon, she headed to the rooftop, by now completely hopeless. There was this habit that they had grown, where they would meet every evening at the rooftop just to watch the sunset along with a lighthearted conversation that would lull them into sleepiness. It was something that belonged only to the two of them, and at the moment her last hint to possibly find Baekhyun. But her heart only fell into the deepest pit of her stomach when his usual spot at the railing was empty.

Defeated was not enough to describe the fear and disbelief that took over her body as she leaned over the railing and took in the orange and lilac sky reflecting limpidly onto the sea, her eyes rimmed red with small tears filled with worry. A small distant walking silhouette crossed her view, making her squint her eyes furiously- trying to get a proper look at the person crossing the beach- her heartbeat suddenly echoing like powerful drums in her ears. She knew it could have been whoever taking a stroll on the beach, but the squeeze in her heart pulled her to detach from the railing and sprint down the stairs and out of the bakery, confusing the Byuns and Kims that had also been searching. She didn't stop for a single second as she ran as if for her life, past the shops, the bazaar until the sand overflowed her sneakers. Her lungs were burning in flames, screaming for air as her heart struggled to keep up with the fast tempo of her legs.

Lips were dry and gasping for oxygen, she had to find Baekhyun.

The exhaustion in her body was at the speed of light pushed to the back of her head and replaced with a pump of adrenaline upon seeing a very familiar male figure entering the waters with furious manners. Million of questions were erupting in her brain as she had no idea what was going on, why Baekhyun was sobbing loudly into the night as he pushed past the hasty ocean waves, but no explanation mattered more than the safety of the one she held so dearly. With no hesitation, without even removing her shoes, the girl ran into the shivering cold water, struggling against the weight of her drenched dress but nonetheless reached him faster than she had expected. With all her might she screamed his name but all she could hear after the echo of her voice was Baekhyun's loud, heartbreaking cries. The boy ignored her and kept pushing past the waves.

After what seemed an eternity she finally was close enough to wrap her cold and wet fingers around his arm and stopped him from moving further. His head snapped in her direction and the girl flinched at the view of his swollen, bloodshot eyes and red cheeks drenched in salty tears,

"Let me go!" He opposed, trying to yank his arms out of her grasp.

"What are you doing?!" She screamed back as she caught both of his arms, eyes crazed as she took in his figure, noticing how pale, how frail, but most of all how heartbroken he looked. Baekhyun's broken heart reflected in the glassy orbs of his. Lips red and swollen just like his eyes. Baekhyun was still frantic as he tried to break free from her grip.

"I have to go-" He cried, "I have to go to them, don't you understand?! Leave me be!" His broken and rough voice resounded all over the sea as he pleaded her to let go, but for no reason in this world was she going to let him go.

"Baekhyun!" She yelled angrily, the loudness of her screams scratched the inside of her throat. "What are you talking about? Get yourself back together!" The boy seemed to have snapped out of his delirious state as her screams made him flinch back to reality, the shock was permanent on his features as he dried his wet face with his palm, brushing the black bangs to the back his head.

"I-" Baekhyun's lips were violently quivering as he tried to form a proper sentence, but it was as if every word he'd speak would break his heart further.

"I have no idea how it was possible but-" He started, nonetheless the dry lump cutting the insides of his throat. "I found a bottled letter at the shore today, and-" All over again, the tears had made their way to blur his view, crystallizing into his long and delicate lashes. "It was for me- from my parents, they wrote it knowing that he had no way to come back alive." His words were defeated murmurs underneath his breath, until he suddenly snapped his head up and found her gaze, his eyes searching for any kind of comfort but could only get lost in his own emotions.

"They said to be happy- that they will always love me even if they're not physically here- that they will look after me," He cried out loudly with tears streaming down his pale cheeks, his hands clutching painfully at his chest. "But I don't want to be without them anymore- I just can't, I want to go to them, I just want to be with them, don't you understand?! I want to reach them, I need to go-" Baekhyun was about to break free out of her grasp again but before he could push her away, she had already circled her arms around his shoulders and guided him to her soft chest. The girl shook her head in disagreement.

"No, Baekhyun."  She said softly, letting her hand travel to the back of his head, brushing through his wet locks soothingly. "You are here for a reason. This place is where you belong. With us...With me, on this island." It was a lie if she said she wasn't the slightest affected, in fact, her eyes were glossy with tears and the sigh that tumbled out of her lips trembled. But she had to be strong, for Baekhyun. She had to be his rock.

"Your parents might not be here anymore but they aren't gone either, they're still watching over you and I can bet you my whole life that they wouldn't want you to do this. They want you to be happy," Gently, she detached ever so slightly from the boy so that she could face him again. "But if you do it like this," She soothed while placing a hand on his cheek, letting the pad of her thumb catch the trail of tears on his skin. "If you reach them like this, with those tears, it would break their heart, Baekhyun. This is not the right way to reach them. They might not physically be here anymore, but," She placed a hand on his chest where his heart was beating, spreading an incredible warmth in his insides that could've melted him on the spot if it wasn't for the cold water they were standing in.

"They're still here," The girl sent him a soft, sincere smile, "Reach them by keeping them close in your heart, reach them through happiness, never anything else."

Baekhyun stared back at her, completely defeated and empty as his eyes filled up with more tears that he did not hesitate to let fall. Loud sobs were tumbling out of his lips as he crushed himself against the girl's chest, hiding in her embrace as if she would be an escape from reality.

And the comfort of her chest was the warmest, even in the icy night sea.

☀️☀️☀️

Baekhyun had looked so upset on their back that she could only imagine how painful it would be for him to go through thousands of questions from his worried aunt and uncle, so she had made a quick call on the payphone, telling Mrs. Byun that Baekhyun didn't want to speak with anyone and that they could go to sleep. The lady had, of course, disagreed, wanting to see a safe Baekhyun with her own eyes. Somehow though, she had managed to convince her to wait until tomorrow.

The boy and the girl had been looking at each other by the stairs that separated the ways to their rooms. She had been on her way to go before Baekhyun had suddenly grabbed hold of her sleeve, pulling her back to him as he pleadingly searched for her eyes.

"Can I please stay with you?" His gentle voice a mere murmur, but enough to set her whole heart on fire, and without hesitation had she let him into her room. And that was how she found herself with Baekhyun sitting on a chair with its back facing her as she dried his damp hair with a towel. In her room took place an eternal silence, decorated by the soft murmurs of their breaths.

"Done," She said contentedly, smiling a little to herself as she put the towel away. Baekhyun abruptly stood up, his pretty fingers fidgeting nervously underneath the oversized sleeves of his hoodie. By the look on his face, she could tell that he was still upset, that his heart was still aching. To be frank, she knew that the next part would be her sending him back to his room with a good night, but there wasn't a single nerve in her body that wanted him out of her room, that wanted him to be alone.

"Do you want to stay here tonight?"

☀️☀️☀️

my oh my i feel like this is the worst chapter of this story, forgive me.

[soyforramen]

Old Times

Gladys hadn’t been back in town for a month before Alice showed up on her front porch at four in the morning, tears streaking down her cheeks (makeup looking just as good as when she’d applied it that morning; gotta love a woman who can afford Avon).  A wide-eyed teenager, the spiting image of a younger, more precocious Alice, tagged along behind her.  Without hesitation Gladys ground her cigarette out on the arm of the rocker (saved from Mr. O’Neil’s Tuesday trash pile) and pulled them both inside.

Without a word spoken, Gladys went to change the sheets in her bedroom.  Alice and the girl spoke softly in the kitchen, and try as she might, Gladys couldn’t make out a single word.  Whatever it was, it had been bad enough to bring Alice here and not one of her fancy, high-society friends’ houses (probably put out jello molds and finger sandwiches and food that tasted like creamed dirt).  Something big enough to ruin the entire Cooper household.

The pillowcase hung from the bottom of the pillow, wrapped around its middle in a suffocating grip, as she realized Hal hadn’t been with them.  In fact, she hadn’t seen Hal and Alice in the same place since she’d moved back to town (long-since overstayed, parents basement too crowded with two bickering teens and three shifts at the grocery store, g.e.d. just out of reach).  She’d exchanged enough nods with Hal in the frozen dinner aisle, both pretending the space between them wasn’t mired in ancient history and still raw rivalry.  Her path with Alice was limited to the high school drop-off lane, the one public gesture of maternal affection Jughead still allowed

Now, though.  She sighed.  It wasn’t uncommon for the women around here to lean on one another for comfort and safety.  Sad, really, how often that came on the heels of the men not living up to even the lowest standards.  

After a second thought, she fluffed up pillows and headed back towards the kitchen.  Coming towards her in the claustrophobic hallway came Alice and her child (Betty, she realized with a flash of deja vu, a reminder of when she and Jughead were the ones on the other end of this), and Gladys flattened herself against the wall.

“Thanks, Ms. Jones,” Betty murmured, her eyes downcast.

Gladys hadn’t the heart to tell her she hadn’t been a Jones for almost fifteen years.  

“Not a problem at all, darlin’.  What do you think about strawberry pancakes in the morning?”

Betty gave her a watery smile and Alice shooed her into the bedroom.  The door closed behind them, and Gladys let out a heavy breath.  There was always something going wrong around here.  You expected it, but it still hurt to see it happen.

Filled with a nervous energy (live wired and on fire, as her daddy used to say before the tar and the coal got to him; put a cork in that and you could power the whole nothern half of the states), Gladys flitted around the house, straightening and tucking and dusting, nothing seeming to be enough anymore.  She had another two hours before she had to be at her first shift at the factory down the road.  Then again, maybe she’d return that long ago favor and call in sick.  After all, she was entitled to a few days here and there (nothing like the dump in toledo where they squeezed every drop of your soul, pennies on the dollar, and still demanded more).

Just as she was running a cloth over the television set (only three channels, black and white; older than either of her children who preferred leeching ole’ henry’s wifi instead of -), the bedroom door shut quietly.  Gladys straightened and waited for Alice to appear.  When their eyes met, Alice’s stoic, no-nonsense rock solid mask crumbled into a mess of tears and grief.

“He’s -“

Poor gal couldn’t even speak properly anymore.  Whatever Hal’d done, it was enough to knock the sense out of Alice, and that was a scary enough prospect on its own.  She hadn’t been that thrown for a loop since they’d raided (stole) Mantle’s stash of E (curled up like kittens, high in the dusty sunlight on the trailer floor, alice laying out her future with hal and not her…).

Gladys quieted her and lead Alice to the love seat (third-hand from earl and katie, bless their hearts even though it did smell like that damn cat).  Alice tried to apologize for the interruption, but Gladys refused to let her.  Jughead she didn’t have to worry about - boy slept like a brick in a tornado - and J.B. was at a sleepover with some of her friends (best friends on the first day of school, always did get her daddy’s better traits, while jug soured down into his old records and writing, lost in his own world, too much like his mama to make anything of it).

Once Alice was settled, Gladys poured out a shot of rum and set it on the coffee table along with a box of tissues.  A few steps back, and Gladys was in the kitchen to give Alice a modicum of peace in the tiny trailer.  She poured a glass of water and set it next to the empty shot glass.

“Another one?  I have whiskey, too.”

Alice shook her head, a crumbled tissue in her hand halfway shredded to hell and back already.  On the table lay three more (three bucks a pop here, can you believe) and Gladys couldn’t help but want that to be the remnants of Hal’s body.  

“Hal, he -“ Alice’s words were cut off with a gut wrenching sob, and Gladys rushed to her.

Like she did when the kids woke up from their nightmares, she murmured platitudes and soft words, her arms wrapped around Alice in a cocoon of safety.  After a good long cry (glad she still wore waterproof, cheap, drugstore mascara would have ruined the fabric, though the concealer would do hell on the blouse), Alice steadied herself.

Despite her hair falling out of its unnatural wave, despite the botchy cheeks, red eyes, and snotty nose, Gladys was still struck by how well Alice carried herself.  Likely an armor built up having to suppress anger and frustration in this ticky-tacky town (hoa’s, pta’s, cya’s).  A rose of anger bloomed on her cheeks sent Gladys rocking back on her heels, a thrum of excitement rushing through her.

“I suppose you’ve heard about our town’s little problem,” Alice said, still speaking in polite euphemisms and innuendos.  She reached for the glass of water and primly cleared her throat (cats and spots, zebras and strips, snakes and scales; once, always).

“Depends on which one you mean,” Gladys said.  

She was being sarcastic, she knew, but it was the truth.  Riverdale hadn’t changed much from when they were growing up, damn whatever bullshit Hiram and his developers were trying to sell.  It still had the same pristine front, picture perfect suburban life style, full of well respected men trying to save the village green from its own preservation society, but now the fetid foundation it had been built upon was bubbling out from the seams.  The drugs, gangs, and murders were more visible now, no longer brushed under the railroad tracks into the Southside of town.

Hell, the only new thing about it seemed to be the mafia trying to gain a foothold.  And Gladys had her own plans on how to deal with that.

Mostly, though, she’d missed being able to push Alice’s buttons (eyes narrowed, tongue beneath her teeth, a flash of heat in a pan), to get a rise from her so she was the center of her focus.  If nothing else, it drew Alice’s attention away from her grief at hand.  

“But, if you’re talking about that black hood idiot,” Gladys drawled, wincing at the pins and needles attacking her as she stood, “then I’ve heard a bit.”

“Yes, well.”  Alice cleared her throat and looked away.  “It turns out you were right.  About Hal.”

“Oh?”

Gladys let it hang in the air.  It wasn’t often that Alice Cooper, nee Smith, admitted to being wrong about anything, especially when it came to her life choices.  And yet the juxtaposition of the two - the Black Hood and Hal - had caught her attention like a hook in a trout’s belly.

“About -?”

“About Hal,” Alice snapped.

She stood to pace the thin carpet of the trailer, her hands wrapped tight around her arms, the pastel green cardigan wrinkling under her fingers.  

“He’s been going around these past few months like a god damned fool, playing at being an avenging angel, murdering people who he thought deserved it.  I can’t believe I bought his lie about going bowling. The man can’t even lift a lawnmower, let alone a bowling ball.”

Gladys sat down on the love seat, one leg thrown onto the coffee table and watched Alice stew in front of her.  It was a mirror image of fifteen years ago, almost to the day.  She gently touched the corner of her eye, still bearing a white scar, and cursed the day she’d ever met that man.

“And then the bastard has the audacity to say that our children need to be purified.  That I need to be purified.  It was bad enough that he sent that letter to Polly, what he did to Betty -“

Alice stopped and tugged at her hair (bottle blonde to cover up the slow, steady march of time; at least a week’s worth of gladys’ pay for vanity every month).  Gladys stood and guided Alice back to the love seat.

“How about you start from the beginning?”

Another stream of tears, this time borne of frustration and anger, slipped down Alice’s cheeks as she dove head first into the long tale.  Hal always had thought himself above the rest of the town (secret son, hidden away from the world) even though his own sins bore bitter fruit of their own (alice angry and self-destructive in senior year; drunk on the floor; od’ed in the bathroom; blood running down wrists).   Somehow he’d managed to fuel that into something more productive - a picture perfect nuclear family and modest but plentiful business - until he finally didn’t.  

The first murder attempt, then the second, third, and fourth followed, no longer attempts.  Quit murders in the surrounding counties that went with only a few murmurs of disapproval.  Even his own family hadn’t been immune; daughters, tortured and deceived by the man meant to protect them from such things (kids of all things; for crissakes was nothing sacred?.

And Alice…

When she was done with her macabre tale, ending in Hal’s entrapment of his family and their violent escape, Gladys let out a low whistle.

“Well.  Shit.”

Alice let out a wet, wry laugh.  She curled her legs up under her and hugged a throw pillow tight (bought on a whim at a yard sale - two’fer deal she’d haggled; matched the lace curtains jb couldn’t help but make fun of).  Gladys stood and walked towards where her father’s urn sat on the mantle, a place of honor in a family who had little to do with ghosts of the past.

“What do you want to do about it?” Gladys asked.  

Standing on her tiptoes, she reached in an pulled out a rusted Altoids tin and a lighter.  When Alice caught sight of it she let out a real laugh this time, one that drew memories of simpler, happier times when it had just been the two of them against the world.  Wonder Woman and Sarah Conner, united together.  Until they grew up and out of middle school dreams and into the real world where bills piled up and mouths had to be fed.  

“You know we’re not in high school, right?”

Gladys grinned and fell onto the love seat next to her.  She popped open the tin and held it out to Alice.

“Do you want to do the honors?  You always were better at it than I ever was.”

Alice chewed her lip, the implications and scandal of what Gladys was proposing flashed across her eyes.  It was easy enough to guess the arguments against it, the same old ones she’d heard before (what if your mom/daughter/sister finds out you keep that in there? she’ll be more pissed that she didn’t find it sooner), but her hand was steady when she took the tin. Gladys watched her fingers work, long thin fingers still trapped by a band of gold.  The ring of a promise that fell flat and brought with it a hell of a right-hook in the end.

As she watched, Gladys let her mind wonder what would have happened if they hadn’t allowed themselves to be torn apart in high school.  If she’d only beaten the truth out of Hal in junior year when Alice vanished.  If only, if only, if only.

“What I want,” Alice said with a finality, the lid snapping shut a punctuation to her decision, “is to rip his guts out and feed them to him while that harpy mother of his watches.”

Gladys flicked the lighter, the flame dancing around the end of the joint.  Her eyes didn’t move from Alice’s lips as she took a hit.  Lines ebbed and faded, reminders of their time spent apart, waves of years and youth wasted.  In the poor ventilation of the trailer, the smoke wrapped them in a thin cocoon of safety, a gauzy curtain to shield them against the reality of their choices.

“Might have to lay a tarp down, but I know a few guys.”

The phrase sent Alice into a fit of giggles (ask freddie and fp, they know some guys) and Gladys shushed her with a crooked smile, reminding her that Betty lay sleeping not forty feet away.  Alice took another took and blew the smoke into Gladys’ face, a ribbon that caressed and teased her skin

“Or we could take care of it ourselves.”

“Just like old times?”

“Just like old times.”

(A few months later found Jughead and Betty at Pop’s working on a school project under Gladys’ critical eye.  Jughead, used to his mother’s hovering nature, enjoyed the free fries she dropped off between customers; Betty, it seemed, was far more perturbed by the woman’s sudden closeness with her mother.  It wasn’t until they were writing about Lady McBeth  (‘out damn spot’ seemed to Jughead less of a guilt ridden complex after this Black Hood business and more of an attempt at an evidentiary coverup) that he spoke on a subject that had been bothering him for a few weeks.

“Doesn’t it seem odd?”

Betty hummed and continued to write.  “What seems odd?”

“My father disappears three months before my mother leaves town, never to be seen again.  We come back, and three months later your dad disappears.  And each time, our mothers renewed their friendship just weeks before.”

Any goodwill Betty might have held towards Jughead froze quickly at the implications in his words.  Her fingers gripped the mechanical pencil hard enough her knuckles went white and the plastic cracked.  

“My father was a serial killer,” she snapped.  Blooms of anger rose on her checks and Jughead shifted under her glare.  “It’s not surprising that he’d run away after trying to kill his wife and his daughter in their own home.”

Cowed, Jughead picked at the lukewarm fries.  Her words didn’t change his mind, didn’t move his suspicions a single degree, but it did quiet his need to pry further into her opinion.

The matter was dropped as Macbeth and his realm descended further into madness.)

[harringtonheartache]

Daybreak | Part Three

Part Four

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Lab Escapee! Reader?

Summary: Part three of this fic. Steve and 009 go to the store.

Word Count: 2,800+

Warning(s): Cussing

A/N: This chapter is dedicated to my inability to chose a gif for the fic introduction in a reasonable amount of time. 

Mrs. Harrington was now the only being in the way of the two and their trip to the store. “I’ll go downstairs first and see where my mom is. When I wave you downstairs, we’ll make our exit.” Steve presented her with her second escape plan. She gave him an “okay”, assurance that she understood. He walked to his bedroom door, almost tiptoeing as if it were necessary. Opening the door, he looked into the hallway before swinging it open completely. A signal for her to follow, and she stepped outside of his bedroom for the first time that day. He had given her a pair of sneakers from his personal wardrobe, and because their large size was sure to cause her steps to be loud as her feet clunked around in them, she held the two shoes in her right hand; to be put on when they were safely outside. Still taking up the lead, Steve declined down the stairs as Nine waited at the top. She stood behind the wall, stealing peaks down below with her hands placed carefully on the wood of the staircase railing. 

“Mom?” Steve called out, and Nine watched as he did. “Yes?” the faceless voice stayed faceless. She was in her bedroom, a room that thankfully resided downstairs, away from Steve’s. “I am going to run to the store for some things for my project. I’ll be back in a bit,” he said to her. She granted her permission (as if he really needed it) without even leaving her room. A conversation between two, conducted without one instance of eye-contact. Turning away from where the sound of his mother’s voice had faded, he motioned to the girl waiting at the top of the stairs. She walked carefully, tip-toeing as Steve had done earlier, and met him in the living room. He thought of offering her a hand to lead her from his house, but decided against pushing his luck with physical touch. Getting thrown against the wall was forgivable, but only with no one else in the house to draw to the scene. Instead he lead her with his own actions, and they made a swift breakout through the front door.

Back in his car, the seats had dried since the previous night. She sat in the passenger's seat like she had before, and he let out a laugh as he took his spot in the driver’s. The sound caused a smile to spread to her own face. “Are you ready to see Hawkins?” he asked. Hawkins, Indiana. A place she had lived her whole life but never seen. A laugh, a grin, and a nod. His hand dug into the cup holder before he even went for the steering wheel. He offered her the sunglasses he had previously promised would be a part of her two-piece disguise. “Here,” he told her. Taking them from his hold, she opened the pair of glasses and placed them on her face. A pair of black sunglasses: another simple item with a grand task. The windows were rolled down a bit as he drove, and the wind that hit her face felt different than the wind she felt while she was running. This one came with a sense of calm, not one of increasing distress.

He turned on music as they drove through town, a funky song belonging to one of the bands she had read on his stack of tapes earlier now playing, audible but not too loud through the speakers. From the passenger’s seat, her eyes that hid behind black frames drifted to the driver. He seemed at ease (greatly different from this morning), one of his hands resting on the steering wheel and the other on his leg. They were not driving that fast, but his hair still wavered in the wind that entered the car through the half-way-down window. “So?” he asked her. He turned his head, his eyes leaving the road to steal a look at her for a moment. “What?” she responded. “What do you think of Hawkins? Is it everything you dreamed?” he spoke with a lighthearted tone. She paused before speaking, unsure of how to answer his question. “It’s nice,” she said. He chuckled a little at her response, looking at her with eyebrows raised. A pink blush spread over her face, slight embarrassment felt in her chest. “I don’t know, I don’t really have anything to compare it to,” she told him with a shy smile. “Well I’m glad you can appreciate its simplicity,” he said in response, the two grinning at one another. 

Steve pulled the car into the parking lot of a quiet storefront. He had chosen a small shopping location, as not to bring undesired attention or create an overwhelming environment for Nine. The car stopped and the windows rolled up. “Are you ready?” he said to her, looking over at her disguise as he removed the car keys from the ignition. “Yes,” she said, her tone confident. “Okay,” he smiled at her, “let’s go”. They exited his car and he locked it. Walking up to the store’s entrance, the doors opened automatically. This lightly startling the girl, but she tried not to let it show. A cheery bell rang, announcing their entrance, and she did not appreciate this feature either. She almost forgot about it once she was inside, however. The store’s body was filled with isles of colorful products, and the walls were lined with neon signs spelling out what was on display in a particular section. A few people walked the establishment - she counted five so far - but zero of them bothered themselves to look at her or Steve. At some point during her observation, she had removed the sunglasses he had given her so that she could see better. She couldn’t help it.

“You okay?” a voice broke her from her momentary trance. Her eyes redirected themselves to Steve. He worried that he had thrown her into something she wasn't ready for yet. “Yeah,” she said, a close-mouthed smile from her calming his concern. “Come on, let’s buy you whatever you want,” he said through his own grin. He took a shopping cart from the slightly disheveled corral, pushing it in front of himself while he lead her in an uncalculated direction. “I’m thinking we start with snacks,” he said.

“Snacks?”

“Yeah, if you’re going to be hanging out in my room all day I’d think you would want some other food to eat besides my peanut butter sandwiches. I mean, not to belittle my cooking,” he said, turning to her from his forward-facing stride down an isle. He had a charm about him, no matter how ridiculous whatever he spoke was. 

Finding the food rather easily despite his lack of experience in shopping, Steve began picking items off the shelf. Packages like Keebler Magic Middles and Mister Salty Pretzel Twists landing on top of one another at the bottom of the cart. Nine simply watched as he chose his own favorites for her, unfamiliar snacks he told her she had to try plucked from the shelves as he pushed the cart down the isle. He grabbed some water bottles too, the first true necessity chosen. 

Having exhausted the food selection, their eyes searched the hanging signs until Steve read the word Women’s written out in a cursive font. “Here, follow me,” he said, taking up the lead again. They entered the desired isle, finding products painted with colors of pink, the color her face had been earlier. They landed in front of a display of deodorants specifically marketed towards women. “Which scent?” he asked her. She shrugged her shoulders, eyes traveling along the line of products labeled with floral and fruity smells. Steve picked a random one from the shelf. He took the lid from the top and inhaled. He then held it out for Nine to smell, giving her a questioning look. She inhaled too, following his actions. A look of displeasure displayed across her face and she shook her head. He smiled down at her, amused with her reaction. He put it back and took another, this one with an array of fruits pictured on the sticker. They both smelled it, gagging slightly when they took too sharp of an inhale. This evolved into laughter. It went on for a number of scents, and they laughed at one another’s expressive faces as they took turns offering the other a new stick. Perhaps laughing too loudly for a general store, but enjoying themselves thoroughly. 

She would raise her eyebrows as she held out the fifth deodorant chosen from the shelf, and he would do the same before his exaggerated reaction would send her into a fit of giggles and he would join her. After going through almost all of the options, they settled on one that Steve had in hand. He turned to toss it with the rest of their groceries. “Back the cart up a little,” he told Nine before he did. She complied, giving him a puzzled look as she took the handle and pulled it backwards. His hands shot up above his head, and he threw the small stick of deodorant as one would a basketball. It landed perfectly in the cart. “One point!” he sang. She laughed, the look of bewilderment still strong on her face but not in an unhappy manner. “Here, you try,” he said, picking up a toothbrush and tossing it gently to her from his side of the isle. She caught it, smiling as she pushed the cart closer towards him with her foot and took a few steps back. She raised her hands, carefully letting go of the item and watching it land in the cart with a mild rattle. She chuckled as he cheered. “Whoo! One to one!” he exclaimed.

This game continued too. It turned into a competition, and soon they were throwing items they didn’t even need into the cart just to one-up the other. They both had missed once by now. “Okay, next point wins!” said Steve, grabbing a bar of soap and backing up a few more paces. “And you have to make it from outside the isle!” he declared. She grabbed a miscellaneous item similar in shape and backed up opposite of him. They now stood on either end of the isle, facing the cart in the middle. “One,” they readied their hands. “Two,” they looked up, smiling, to meet the other’s eye. “Three!” The items flew through the air, one landing with a small crash on the floor after bouncing off the side of the cart. “No!” Steve sang, his poor throw costing him the game. Nine watched him as he cried out, not cocky enough to boast in her own victory but enough so to laugh at his dramatic nature. “I guess you win,” he told her as he moved to pick up his bar of soap from the floor, giving her a smirk and an eye-roll that mimicked a false sulkiness. 

---

After scanning the items they decided upon through self-checkout (paying for said items with Steve’s father’s credit card) they left as they had entered - through the automatic sliding doors. This time they did not startle her, and she didn’t bother returning the black shades to her face. He popped the trunk and she placed her handful of bags inside first. Looking up and turning around to face the storefront, she started counting people again. One, two, three, four large men.

She grabbed for Steve’s arm that placed the last bag in the car. Her grip caused him to turn, looking at her now with that same look of bewilderment she had expressed earlier; he hadn’t quite caught on that a serious matter was taking place. “Steve,” she started, her gaze dashing around the parking lot as she spoke to him. She was counting the number of threats. “Men from the lab,” she told him, finally letting herself look to Steve, and she watched his face shift and his eyes grow wide. One particularly sizable man who was walking with a quick stride towards the two from the right was only a few steps away from being able to grab Nine (or Steve if he wanted to, but she knew that she was their target). She released Steve’s arm and instead lifted her own to raise a hand out in front of her. At this point, Steve’s panic had risen to it’s pull potential, and he slammed the trunk of his car and looked to Nine. “Come on, let’s go!” he told her, wanting to avoid confrontation all together and make a speedy getaway in his car. He spoke in a low tone, as if his soft voice would keep the forthcoming danger from noticing them. 

She threw the impending man as easily as she had tossed the toothbrush into the shopping cart earlier. She did such a thing without touching him too, which is why the lack of store-goers in the parking lot was a relief. He landed a few feet shy of a car, and Nine did not even lower her hand before turning to threat number two. He was too close for comfort, and it landed him a couple of feet away on the pavement, not too far from his friend who suffered the same fate at the hands of the powerful girl. Two grown men thrown like frisbees, and Steve was still in full panic. “N-Nine let’s go!” he told her again, his face stronger in emotion than his voice was in strength. It faltered as he spoke up this time. This being the second time he advised they make an exit, she looked to him and decided that he was right. There were two more men, but they stood still now, fearful. The two dashed from the back of the car to their reserved seats, but Steve only got so far as his hand on the handle of the door before a third man revealed himself by grabbing him by the shoulder. 

Nine was given more time, and had even gotten her car door open before realizing the third threat than now preyed on Steve. One firm hand on his shoulder was all he was able to accomplish before her hand flew up in front of her again. This time she lifted him in the air, moving him further away from Steve before sending him backwards. His back was met forcibly with a car belonging to some unfortunate store customer. It was sure to leave a dent. Steve, who had turned to watch the man plummet through the air now turned back to look at Nine. “Holy shit!” he couldn’t keep himself from saying to her. She simply looked to him, slightly aghast herself, and continued her retreat to the car.

Steve backed the vehicle up with such haste, noting that although he probably should have taken a more thorough look out the rear-view window before doing so, there was no time. He violently exited the parking lot, his hands steering the wheel with sharp movements and tossing his passenger around in her seat. His car tires screeched during their departure, just as they had the night prior when he saved himself from hitting the girl who stood in the middle of the road. It was only when they were a good ways down the road and away from the lot when either one of them allowed themselves to breathe. Steve’s quick pants turned into laughter, and Nine looked at him with valid confusion. “Holy shit!” he repeated what he had said to her earlier. His eyes stole a glance at her, abandoning the road for a moment, and it was only when they made eye contact that his wide smile caused her to laugh too. 

“That was terrifying, but you totally fucking saved us! It was amazing!” Praise for using her ability. It was something she was familiar with, but it tasted different this time. It didn’t feel sinister. It wasn’t greedy, it was pure praise. It made her laugh even more. A trail of blood, unnoticed by her, began it’s path from her nose. Still looking to her every few seconds, Steve did notice it. “You’re bleeding, are you okay? They- they didn’t even touch you why are you bleeding?” Almost feeling a ping of shame, she quickly wiped her nose with the backside of her hand. “It happens,” she said, “when I use my power”. Unphased, he smiled a dorky smile at her again. “That was so fucking amazing,” he said. Her expression mirrored his own, and they took a turn a little too sharply down a road of Hawkins. Her shoulder hit the car’s side from his excited driving, but she did not care as they laughed along with one another. 

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Tags: @ggclarissa