#in which I was being chased through a grocery store and escaped by sliding down a long conveyor belt to a grocery delivery warehouse

[nonasuch]

a trope I enjoy: character A pretends to be a new hire at a workplace to evade pursuit/as part of a long con. by the time anyone catches up to them, A has become a Valued Team Member and fits seamlessly into their new role (dare I say, vocation?) and has to be persuaded to leave. this is funnier the less time it takes.

[bold-writing]

The One With Whiskey Eyes || 8 || Let Me Bear Your Scars

Warnings: The Horde.

Words: 3400+

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~8~

What a view they must have made; standing outside of the grocery store as Iris chased Luke in circles in an attempt to get her one bag of groceries from him. Luke was wearing a confident smirk on his face as he continued to hold them out of reach, his bags of food sitting a foot away against the wall as they waited for the cab he had called. “You’re being a child! How old are you, anyway?”

 “I am twenty-six, I will have you know,” he snarked back, keeping the bag out of reach even as Iris stood on the tips of her toes and stretched to the best of her ability.

 “Then act like it!”

 The honk of a car horn drew their attention away from one another, turning them to the road as a bright yellow cab pulled up to the curb. “Ha!” Luke cheered before he rushed over to open the back door, rain immediately pouring down over him as he placed Iris’s bag in the back seat. The small woman let out a faint sigh before pulling the hood of her coat over her head and rushed out after him. “You get in, I’ll grab the other ones,” he assured, directing Iris into the back seat as the driver nodded to her in silent greeting.

Iris’s lips barely twitched with a smile in return, her head bowing down in avoidance as Luke closed the door to her right. Luke was quick as he retrieved his bags from against the building and deposited them into the trunk of the cab. “Where to, miss?” the driver called back after a brief pause. “He said that you were being dropped off first?”

 “Oh, yea,” Iris stuttered a moment, before she rattled off her address. It was only a few minutes down the road, but the downpour that was pelting the car was a pretty good excuse for taking the cab.

 She’d barely finished telling the driver when Luke opened the door on Iris’s other side, sliding in as quickly as he could to avoid further rain. It was rather useless, however, because he was already soaked to the bone from the few short moments he had been in it. “Wow, cats and dogs,” he gasped as he shook his head, water trailing down his face. At least his leather jacket had prevented the rain from getting to his shirt and making it all the more uncomfortable for him.

 The driver pulled away from the curb in that instant, jolting Iris to nearly slide into the door. “You’re dripping everywhere,” Iris mumbled, reaching out to catch a raindrop that was a moment away from dripping off his nose. “I hope your door is close to the curb,” she added on, glancing out the window at the rush of water that was caused by the heavy rain and wind.

 “Yea, not really,” Luke reluctantly admitted. “But, I’ve done this before,” he assured with a smile, bringing out his dimples. “Not in an all-out downpour, though.”

 “I’d been hoping I would beat the rain. That didn’t really happen.”

 “Bet you’re happy you ran into me?” he prodded with a teasing smirk. Iris huffed a laugh as she reluctantly nodded. She couldn’t imagine having to walk home while it was pouring rain outside. That paled in comparison to her having met her second soulmate in little more than a week. She never thought that it would happen so quickly.

 She wanted to say a bit more to him, to express her happiness about meeting him, but it concerned her that they were in a car with someone they didn’t know, even if he was the driver. Before she had any further time to think on the matter, the car slowed to a stop at the curb outside of Iris’s building. The familiar white stones were her only warning before the driver glanced back at the two of them, as though silently bidding her out.

 “I’ll help you,” Luke immediately offered, giving no room for Iris to argue before he had popped open the door and slipped out with her bag of groceries in hand. The small woman stuttered in surprise, getting a muffled chuckle from the driver as he quickly diverted his attention to the front window again.

 “Thank you for the ride,” Iris called up to him, her voice still timidly quiet before she turned to the door as Luke opened it for her.

 “I’ll be just a second,” Luke assured the man before he helped Iris from her seat and helped her to rush for the entrance of her building, a supportive hand against her back while the other carried her bag. “I’m real happy I met you, Iris,” he said as he leaned down to her level and tightened his arm around her waist. “Everyone else is gunna be jealous; I got to meet our soulmate.”

 “Don’t brag too much,” Iris warned with an answering smile. Taking her bag from him and wrapping another arm around his shoulders, making Luke lean down to her height so that she could hold onto him more easily. “I’m happy I met you, too, Luke. Get home safe.”

 “Promise,” he mumbled back, leaning against the crook of her neck for a moment. Then he was pulling away, taking the warmth of his body from Iris as he stepped back, and rushed to the cab that was waiting patiently for him. Iris lingered at the door long enough to wave him off, then stepped into her building quickly to escape the chill.

 Slipping into the stairwell, she was left with a smile brightening her features as she steadily climbed up to the top floor. One of her neighbours was making their way down passed Iris on her way from the second-floor entrance, giving her a strange look when she realized that Iris was smiling. There were very few people in the building that had actually met Iris, rushing or hiding as she normally was while inside.

 The look of bewilderment wasn’t even enough to dampen her happy mood or expression, letting the woman step into her warm apartment as her smile remained. The fatigue of the morning had faded, leaving her to thrum with energy as she routinely put her groceries away before moving over to the small bookshelf that held some of the textbooks she liked to read slowly. Because of the lack of sleep from having run from Barry, she hadn’t even been able to find the interest to pick them up let alone take the time to read them.

 Singing softly beneath her breath, Iris placed the book on the counter and began the process of making a tea. The coffee she’d purchased was calling her name, but it was already too late in the day for her to submit to that desire otherwise she would be awake the entire night. Having met her soulmate assured her that she would be sleeping better, but it would be for naught if she drank a cup of caffeine.

 Once her tea was finished, Iris pushed her pillows up against the headboard of her bed and shuffled around a moment to get comfortable. Just as she was about to crack open the history book she’d steadily been going through, her cellphone pinged from the nightstand to her left. Stretching over to retrieve it, the small notification of a new email made her blink in confusion and tap on the little icon.

 At the top of her email list, Barry was written in bold in the subject line, signalling it as unread. Iris’s lips twitched with a repressed smile as she quickly selected the email and waited as patiently as she could for the page to load. Barry had given her his email instead of a cellphone number, explaining that it was easier for each of the personalities to have a personal email account rather than a cellphone for each of them. They had one main phone that was registered in Kevin’s name, mostly used as a means of emailing rather than texting or calling.

 Immediately, the first sentence made her laugh once the page had loaded.

 Luke won’t shut up. He only got home a few minutes ago and I think at least one person is debating on smothering him with a pillow. I hope he wasn’t too energetic; he’s always been a bit more on the rowdy side. I am glad that he didn’t let you walk home in the rain, though.

 Iris found herself smiling as she read along, the happiness that came with the simple method of communication surprising her. There were few things that could brighten her mood so easily, so this was yet another thing about the soulmarks that were changing her life very suddenly, and very drastically.

 I’m real glad that you got to meet him, though. Luke would do just about anything for someone if they asked. And you, Iris, deserve only the best.

 I’ll talk to you again soon; have a nice day off tomorrow!

 -Barry

 Iris licked at her lips nervously while leaning back into her pillows comfortably, tapping on the reply icon and staring at the blank page in thought. She had no idea whether she was supposed to answer back about Luke or not, since Barry had assured her that he wouldn’t tell the others anything personal that she had told him unless it was what she wanted. He wanted her to tell them only when she was ready, just like what she had done with him.

 Was talking about her time with Luke appropriate when she was speaking with another soulmate?

 Sighing softly, she decided that pushing aside her second-thoughts and overthinking had worked for her so far, so she could continue to do so.

 Good evening, Barry. I hope he’s not getting on everyone’s nerves too badly; although, he did seem quite excited about bragging rights. I think it was his way of getting back for having to do the groceries—which, by the way, you might want to hide some of because there was an awful lot of sugar in that cart.

 Please thank him again for me about the ride home, I definitely would not have enjoyed walking through that storm, even if it’s only a few blocks. If you guys keep this up, you’re going to spoil me.

 I promise I’ll enjoy my day off. Have a great shift, and get a good night’s sleep!

 -Iris

 Hitting send before she could let doubt creep in, Iris released the breath that she had been holding as she reread her message for any errors. Her phone alerted her that her message had been sent and she let herself drop the phone onto the mattress and turn away from it, knowing that there was no going back. There was no reason for her to second-guess the message; it was simple, friendly, and polite.

 Retrieving the book she had put aside, Iris allowed herself to relax into the pillows again as the happiness from meeting Luke was joined with the content feeling of having heard from Barry.

 Barry’s expression was soft as he read Iris reply, his footsteps carrying him to the kitchen as he moved the email into his ‘Iris’ file, wanting to keep her messages private from the rest of his work/Fletcher related emails. Entering the kitchen with a smile as he slipped the phone into the back pocket of his pants, he moved over to one cabinet that usually housed their snacks and let out a laugh when he was faced with a shelf full of chocolate, chips, and other assorted candies.

 “Luke, you suck at this, man,” he mumbled to himself and began taking some of the packages out. He’d have to hide them temporarily and let Patricia know, she’d be a lot better at hiding them than him. A ping on his phone drew him to pause, however, and he immediately drew it out to see if Iris had perhaps sent him another email after the first.

 Instead, Dr. Fletcher’s name in the subject line relaxed his excitement as he selected the unopened email, reading over the simple message that she had sent, hoping him and Iris well and confirming that he was going to show up for their next session. She also asked if he would like for her to invite Iris over for another meeting with her; she was offering to better explain D.I.D to her.

 Barry leaned against the counter as he looked down at the phone, contemplating whether or not he wanted for her to learn about their disorder from another person.

 However, that was not up to him. Iris was a smart woman, she was probably already researching about the disorder on the internet. Typing back a quick response that said it was up to Iris, not him, he returned to his original task of hiding the sweets before Hedwig took the light and binged on them for the better part of the evening.

 Heading for his room afterword, he made sure to set his alarm to be awake in time for work, Barry settled down at his desk as he pulled one of his larger sketchbooks over to him. This one in particular he always kept away from the others, and never showed to Fletcher.  It was his personal sketchbook, one that housed the faces of the alters, or the animals that he drew at the zoo. This sketchbook didn’t have any of the dresses or other articles of clothing that he normally drew.

 Flipping to a fresh page, the previous one housing a drawing of the tiger that he had done from the zoo, Barry pulled his tin of pencils closer to him and selected a simple 2H. It would be easier for him if there was a picture or the real thing to look at, but there was still a strong image of her in his mind. And Luke, too, had seen her. Somehow, that seemed to strengthen the memory of her.

 Beginning with the outline, basic shapes of her hair and face; he made sure to get the correct angle of her cheekbones and the deep set of her eyes. He almost wanted to rush through the prep-work, just so he could get into the details of her eyes, her hair, her lips. He wanted to begin giving her true justice, but to rush through the beginning stages would hinder his work on the overall portrait.

 He used the memory of her from their morning, smiling to him as she sat beside him while they were eating breakfast. Her hair had been slightly mussed from sleep, yet to be brushed, and the shadows from lack of sleep had lessoned drastically from the one solid night.

 Once he was certain that he had gotten all of her angles correct, he pulled out a B pencil and began to work on the shading instead. Iris’s eyes were the first thing that he started to work on, filling in the soft shadows around her eyes from how deeply set they were, darkening the crease from her eyes being open, and starting along the line of her eyelashes.

 Starting from those mesmerizing eyes, she was beginning to come to life on the page.

 If they weren’t so new to one another, he’d have asked her if he could take her picture before he’d left.

 Barry wasn’t sure for how long he worked, but it was well past midnight when he finally put the last of his pencils back into the metal case from which he had gotten them. Iris’s portrait was finished, her timid smile just as he remembered, when Barry finally leaned back and propped the sketchbook up to get a proper look at it.

 Smiling in satisfaction, he wondered briefly if he should use her as a model for his later drawings. She didn’t have to wear the clothes, but he could design them in a way that they would fit someone of her tiny frame.

 Her thin arms and delicate joints were attractive in the proper clothing. It broke his heart to see her wearing the baggy, oversized clothes that hid her marks—and her form. She was left to swim in the clothing that she wore, hanging past her hands and draping at her shoulders. He’d only seen her in a few different outfits, the first time having been obscured by her coat, and he remembered that her shirts and sweaters almost always went down to mid-thigh.

 It made him wish he could see her in high pants, accentuating her thin waist, and a tucked in blouse that would show off her arms—which were not nearly as weak as they appeared.

 Selecting a piece of tracing people, Barry tucked it gently between the pages and covered over the drawing he had just done. He didn’t want it smudging from closing and opening the book, and he was fresh out of fixative spray that would prevent any damage from touch. He didn’t want to tarnish the drawing of her, if only because it was Iris, not some random woman that he had decided he wanted to draw because of their attractive bone structure.

 Iris’s bone structure put everyone else’s to shame, of course.

 Tucking the sketchbook back into place on the shelf, he sighed softly when he glanced at the alarm clock next to his bed. He couldn’t bring himself to regret staying up to finish her drawing, but he knew that it was going to come back to bite him in the ass when he had to get ready for work in the morning. As much as he’d rather sleep in, enjoying a fitful sleep for the first time in a week, he knew he’d have to get out of bed when the alarm went off.

 And then, after his shift was over, the light would be passed to someone else for the rest of the evening. He wasn’t sure who, yet, but he knew that he couldn’t keep denying Dennis and Patricia for much longer. He’d kept them from the light for the past two months after they’d convinced Hedwig of the fictional being they had created, and he could tell they were starting to get antsy to be back in the light.

 He figured they must have learned their lesson, since they hadn’t mentioned the Beast to anyone since Barry had reprimanded them for putting such beliefs in a child’s head. And Hedwig, desperate for the approval of the others, had lapped up their stories like a sponge.

 Dr. Fletcher had gotten Hedwig to draw the Beast after he had rushed into an explanation of it. Barry had mentioned his concern in the previous session, so when Hedwig went in for the next one she had immediately begun the slow, delicate process of calming him and coaxing out the information that they sought. Barry’s main concern was that Hedwig was growing closer to Patricia and Dennis, especially after their tales of the Beast subtly scaring the boy into favouring them, and Hedwig was the only identity in Kevin’s body that was capable of stealing the light from Barry whenever he wanted.

 Hedwig had never disobeyed Barry before Patricia’s whispered stories, her quiet promises of protection from the Beast, of praise for his work when he went against Barry.

 They had not been rewarded for their behaviour, and Barry only hoped that the problem was now behind them. As much as he appreciated what Dennis had been able to do for Kevin when he was younger, taking over to make sure that everything was where it should be and hopefully protect them from a punishing beating, he did not know what to do with the man that Dennis was becoming.

 Sighing softly as he began the routine process of changing into his clothes for the night, Barry tried to push the concerns from his mind.

 They had met Iris now, and he only hoped that having her around meant that they would stay on their best behaviour in order to be able to meet her. She was someone who was delicate and sweet, too fragile for stories about a Beast that lived in the train yard. It was his greatest hope that Iris could draw them back to the peaceful, safe memories they had made together—leaving behind the nightmarish tales of the Beast.

 She needed them to be safe, to be loved and welcomed with absolute devotion. They could not offer devotion to something else and their soulmate, as they were meant to do.

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[flowerfan2]

One Night in Milwaukee - Ch. 5

I’m considering changing the title to “One Night in Milwaukee (and a week in Florida)...”  Enjoy and please reblog!

David x Patrick, 15k so far, A03

Chapter 5

David takes his time showering and doing his hair.  He had thought that his run would center him, but all it took was one quick conversation with Patrick to knock him off balance.  

He wishes he could put his own clothes back on, but since everything he brought with him is either in the wash or soaked in sweat, it’s not an option.  Tying a towel around his waist, he goes into the bedroom and looks through Patrick’s suitcase.  He allows himself a satisfying eye roll at the contents – the expected button-downs in shades of blue and green, jeans that probably won’t even fit David, and a few plain t-shirts and pairs of khaki shorts.  David sighs and selects briefs, shorts, and an olive green t-shirt, a nondescript fashion choice that would make his mother weep.  At least he’ll only have to wear them for an hour or so until his own clothes come out of the dryer.

He finds Patrick in the kitchen, hovering next to the island.

“I made eggs,” Patrick says, sliding a plate towards him.

“Thanks.”  The eggs are just like David likes them, with a sprinkle of salt and pepper, and a piece of toast on the side.  David recognizes the wheat bread he bought yesterday on his trip to the grocery store, somewhat bland but decent enough given the heaping of butter Patrick has spread on it.

They eat in silence for a few minutes, until the stress of it is too much for David to take.

“These are good.”

“It’s just scrambled, we didn’t have any cheese-”

“I can go to the store again, I didn’t know what you’d want-”

“You don’t have to do that,” Patrick says.  “You didn’t have to go in the first place.”

“So I shouldn’t have?”

“No, no, it was great that you did…” Patrick catches David’s gaze, and they both sigh.  “Why is this so awkward?” Patrick asks, taking their now empty plates and putting them in the sink.

“I don’t know, maybe because it’s been a long time, and things are different, and we both want everything to work out?  But there’s no guarantee.” David stands up and waves his hands at the neat little kitchen and the safe tan sofa with its blue and white pillows and the “Home Sweet Home” sign on the wall with an outline of the state of Florida.  He’s not sure he’s ever felt so out of place.  “And this is not somewhere I ever expected to be, and I really don’t know what to do with it.”

Patrick nods, that sadness coming over his face again, and it makes David want to strangle someone.  Not Patrick, never Patrick.  But whoever was responsible for taking his good, decent button and making him sad.

<i>It was you, you asshole,</i> his unhelpful brain tells him, and isn’t that just the worst.

“Want to see the pool?” Patrick asks, and although David can see it perfectly well from here, he figures it can’t hurt.  At least the screens will keep the alligators away.

They go outside, and the warmth of the sunshine surprises David. It’s gotten hotter even in the past hour since he was outside.  It may be late November, but this part of the world hasn’t gotten the message.  He wanders over to the pool and dips his toes in, then sits down by the steps in the shallow end and puts his feet in the water.

Patrick comes over and lowers himself to the concrete, David reaching out automatically to give him something to brace himself against.  When Patrick starts to put his feet in David stops him with a hand to his ankle, carefully rolling up one leg of his jeans and then the other.  David’s knuckles brush against the wiry hairs on Patrick’s leg as he neatly cuffs each pant leg.  He wants to roll Patrick’s shirt sleeves up, too, reveal more of his lovely forearms, but it seems a step too far.

“Thanks.”

“Wet jeans are an abomination,” David comments.

“Kind of like you wearing my khaki shorts?”  Patrick’s mouth quirks up in an attempt at a smile, and David’s heart lifts.

“Nice.  Just a few minutes again you said I looked good.”

The hint of a smile disappears, as David’s words fail to land the way he meant.  “I’m sorry, David, am I supposed to apologize for that?  I don’t understand why it upset you.  You do look good.  Clearly you’ve been working out – aren’t you allowed to be pleased with the outcome?”

David squeezes his eyes closed and leans his head back.  “Yes?  But…” He’s not sure how to explain it.  “It’s not about vanity, or, appearance.  I know that probably sounds fake, coming from me,” he opens his eyes and looks at Patrick, who is gazing back as patient and open as ever, “but it’s true.”

“Okay,” Patrick says, clearly waiting for David to fill in the blanks.  David had hoped a discussion about this particular part of his recent history could have been put off, possibly indefinitely, but it’s feeling like one of those moments when he’ll regret it if he brushes it off again.  And maybe opening up will get Patrick to do the same.

“I was pretty depressed, after we broke up,” David says, running the tips of his fingers through the water, watching the ripples spread across the surface of the pool.  “Couldn’t get out of bed, lost interest in everything… you know how it goes.”  He’s not sure Patrick does, but he can’t help but try to make light of it, as awful as it was.  It’s hard to really focus on those months, the drag of gray haze that wouldn’t clear.  “Eventually I started seeing a therapist.”

“You mentioned that,” Patrick says, and David relaxes a fraction, because he had forgotten.  Maybe this won’t be that hard, then.  It hasn’t chased Patrick away yet.  

“Right.  Well, he recommended a bunch of stuff to try, including exercising regularly, and I resisted at first-”

“Obviously,” Patrick says.

David glares up at Patrick, who’s got his best trolling face on, deliciously familiar, and suddenly spilling his guts doesn’t seem so embarrassing anymore.  “Anyway, once I started, it wasn’t so bad.  Despite what I once told you about running… it worked for me.”  That and laying off the alcohol.

“That’s great, David.”

“Well, Alexis says I just replaced one obsession with another.”

“Is that so bad, when it’s a healthy one?”

“You didn’t have to put up with me when I couldn’t go out for a run because of crappy weather, or inconveniently scheduled vendor meetings.”

There’s a hitch in the rhythm of their banter, and Patrick takes David’s hand in his.  “I wish I did.  I wish I was there.”

David feels his chest tighten, and he gives Patrick’s hand a squeeze.  “Me too.”

They sit there with their feet in the water, like little kids in a backyard wading pool.  There’s no breeze to speak of, but it’s not completely quiet.  The sound of the highway a few streets away provides a bit of background noise, and a weird bird keeps making a strangled chirpy sound from a hedge on the side of the house.  

David’s past encounters with Florida involved multi-million-dollar yachts, tanned supermodels, and free-flowing booze and drugs, not this strange version of suburbia.  He imagines this house sitting empty for most of the year, waiting for its owners to come and visit.  How many of the cookie cutter three-bedrooms in this neighborhood are empty right now?  How many swimming pools are noticed only by the staff who come by weekly to clean them and make sure nothing has crawled into the filters and died?

“This water’s probably terrible for your skin,” David says, and Patrick looks at him in mild confusion.  “Because of all the chemicals.”  

Patrick shrugs.  “I guess.”

“There are chemicals in here, right?”

“I don’t know, which would upset you more – the amount of chlorine dumped in here or the water being left in its natural state?”

David pulls his feet out of the water and stretches his legs to the side, the concrete warm on his heels.   “I’m honestly not sure.  But maybe we shouldn’t take any chances.”

Patrick stands up, leaning hard on David’s shoulder as he goes.  “Wait here.  I’ll be right back.”

David stays put, although now that he’s thinking about what might be in the pool water he wouldn’t mind rinsing off and applying some lotion.  Or some hand sanitizer.

Patrick comes back out of the house with an armload of cushions and drops them onto the lounge chairs by the other end of the pool.  “Come help me set these up.”

It only takes a moment to unfold the brightly patterned cushions and tie them into place (ah, there’s the Hawaiian floral, David thinks to himself).  While David is arranging the loungers to his liking, facing the sun, Patrick comes back with two bottles of water.  David twists off the top and rinses his feet while Patrick squawks at him.

“What?  Was that not what this was for?”  He tries not to smile.

“David.  That water was to drink.  There’s an outdoor shower over there.”  Patrick points to the side of the house, then seems to regret his decision.  “But don’t walk out there without shoes, okay?”

“What, will the baby alligators nip at my toes?”

Patrick grins at him.  “No, but the fire ants will.”

“What the hell kind of place is this?”

“It’s just nature, David.  As long as you wear shoes in the grass, you’ll be fine.”

“I feel like the state of Florida must have had some really good marketing professionals along the way.  Alexis should get a job with them.  They’ve managed to convince people that this pest-ridden swampland is worth something.”

“Arguably that is kind of what happened.  You know Disney World was built on reclaimed swampland, right?”

“I did not know that.”

“Anyway, this neighborhood isn’t all there is.  Give me another day to rest up, then I’ll show you around.”

Another day to rest isn’t really going to cut it, David thinks, watching Patrick wince as he eases himself down in the chair.  He wonders again what Patrick had in mind when he made his escape to the sunshine state, which brings them right back to the conversation Patrick keeps avoiding.

“Patrick, how long, exactly, are you planning on staying here?”  David asks, hoping that the direct approach might actually get him an answer.

Patrick stares up at the sky.  “I don’t know.”

Patrick’s hair looks like polished copper in the sunlight, but David tries not to let it distract him.  “How much time can you take off from work?” David presses.  “Or are you working remotely doing… whatever you are doing now?”

Patrick takes a long gulp from his water bottle, then stares at his feet.  “I’m unemployed.  I lost my job about a month ago,” he says bitterly.

“Oh.”  David is surprised, to say the least, especially by Patrick’s tone.  He’s always seemed like he would be the ideal employee, eager to please and determinedly hardworking.  “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Yeah.  Well, after you piss off a major customer, it’s hard to convince your employer to retain you.”

“It can’t have been that bad.  I don’t think I can imagine you pissing off a customer.”

“It was, and I did.”

“What on earth did you do?”

“Do you really want to know?”

David sits up and squints at Patrick, no longer enjoying the sun on his face. He doesn’t even have sunglasses with him, a major miscalculation. “Yes, of course.”

Patrick leans back and closes his eyes.  “I was working as an account manager at a software company.  It was boring as hell.  Sales, mostly, skating by with just enough technical knowledge about the product to capture the customer’s interest, and then serving as the liaison between the customer and the tech guys who actually knew what they were doing.  But I kept screwing things up, and when the customers would want to know why the contract didn’t have the terms they wanted, or why I was taking so long to get back to them, I just didn’t have the patience to deal with it.”

“That doesn’t sound like you.”

Patrick opens his eyes and looks at David, and he looks almost as bewildered as David is.  “No, it doesn’t, does it?”

David has the feeling there’s more to this story, but Patrick doesn’t elaborate, and all David really wants to do is give him a hug.

“You know, I have a feeling you don’t have an ounce of sunscreen on.  You’re going to be bright red if we stay out here any longer.”  David stands up and holds out a hand to Patrick, then slides his arm around his back to pull him up.  When they’re both upright, he loops his arms around Patrick’s neck and pulls him close.

Patrick presses his face against David’s neck.  “I’m a mess, David,” he says, his breath hot on David’s skin.  “I don’t know what happened to me.”

“I think we’ve both been a little lost,” David says, holding Patrick tight.  “But I know what will fix it.”

“Yeah?”  There’s an almost pathetically hopeful note in Patrick’s voice.

“Absolutely.”

“What?”

“Running.  Miles of it.  Every day.  It’s a miracle drug.”  David is struggling to keep up his serious tone, and not quite succeeding.

Patrick chokes out a laugh, pressing a hand against his ribs.  “I don’t think I’m quite up for running yet.”

“Well fine, then, you’ll just have to watch me do it.  It’s almost as good.”

“I don’t doubt it,” Patrick says, and kisses David soundly.  David hesitates for a second and then enthusiastically participates, and they are both breathing heavily by the time they pull apart.

“Not that I’m complaining, but what brought that on?” David asks as they go inside, the shade welcome after the bright sunshine.  He keeps a hand on Patrick as they go, not so much to make sure he doesn’t fall over but because he doesn’t want to lose this connection, now that he’s found it again.

Patrick takes hold of David’s waist, his eyes on David’s brighter than they’ve looked in days.  “You.  I thought I was dreaming, sometimes, remembering how much I liked you – loved you, too, but just fucking liked you.  But I wasn’t.”

“I’m the best,” David says, half-joking, but there’s a familiar happiness bursting inside his chest.

“You are, David.  You really are.”

[welcometoclass1ahell]

Notebook Shocker: Mafia!Kaminari x Quirkless!Fem!Reader

Bruh its like 6am. I started this at 1am. Idk how writers do it. im drained af and probably spelt shit wrong but thats what edits are foooor. 

Mafia!Kaminari x Quirkless!Fem!Reader

Warnings: A lil torture, violence, and mafia stuffff

Plot : A certain mobster had caught you stealing 

Word Count: 5.8k

“What do you mean….someone took it?” Deku groaned in annoyance, fiddling with a pen behind his desk. His green eyes scanned over Kaminari’s sheepish stance, “That notebook has a lot of intel, if that gets in the wrong hands I won’t know what I’m going to do to you,” Deku continued, a sharp glare adding to the threat.

“I know, I know! Don’t worry about it boss, I’m gonna get it back. I saw who took it,” Kaminari explained, “I just wanted to let you know, I can track her down. How far can a little girly get?” He grinned as he rubbed the back of his neck. He knew he pissed off Deku but in a way he wasn’t too concerned yet. He just had to get that notebook back, and that would mean having a little chase with the girl who he saw last night.

“I don’t care who has it or how you get it back. I want that notebook, and bring her too! I wanna know who’s after it,” Deku ordered before waving his hand to dismiss him.

Giving a small head bow, Kaminari excused himself to go save that notebook. He didn’t know what was in there, but he knew it had to be important to rile up his boss that much. Walking down the halls of the hideout, he quickly made his way to the dinning hall where he knew his friends would be. Not minding the few bodyguards who nodded his way, Kaminiari pushed open the tall doors to the grand room and smiled over to his pals, Kirishima and Mina. “Guys! I may or may not have gotten myself into a bit of a situation,” He chuckled and took a seat at one of the seats across from them.

“What did you get yourself into this time bro?” Kirishima smirked looking up from the playing cards as Mina also took interest in the conversation. “I lost the notebook, the one Deku wanted,” He started which had already caused a worried look onto the duo’s faces across from him.

“Dude not cool, that had all the intel on certain politicians,” Kirishima sat up straighter, “Yeah, wasn’t Deku going to use that to bribe one of them to fund us?” Mina added into which Kaminari froze up.

“Wait, that notebook? Why would he make me in charge of that? Why not Todoroki or Bakugo?” Kaminari whined realizing how much worse this situation was and put his head to the table letting out an annoyed groan.

“Because they aren’t here at the moment! Duh! He sent them to go do something else like a week ago? You’re so daft Kami!” Mina teased but she looked a little worried for her friend who was now toying with the dinning cloth on the table.

“Let’s go, Kaminari, I’ll help you,” Kirishima began, to which Kaminari lifted his head with a relieved grin,”Really? Aw you’re the best,” The blonde responded happily and stood up with hope in his eyes. He did not want to stall much longer knowing Deku would lose it if he was still here and not out looking for that book.

“Good luck guys! Just remember to stay low! Deku doesn’t want any more loud operations! He’s still fixing the last screw up,” She reminded them. The boys simply nodded giving her a quick goodbye before heading out quickly to their cars.

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

Gripping onto the notebook tightly which you had stolen last night, you sat on your couch eyeing the cover of the simple black book. It was a simple job really, but something felt off. It was too simple. You weren’t a rookie when it came to stealing things, petty robbery and pickpocketing being your job after all, but you weren’t a professional. So why did someone like Shigaraki have you do a job for him. 

He hadn’t even asked you himself. One of his henchmen had asked you if you were interested in a job.

“It’s a quick and easy task! Just pop right in and grab a notebook, that’s all we need,” The man who introduced himself as Mr. Compress explained. “We just need someone with not much background, someone who doesn’t look suspicious,” He added on when you had asked why they wanted someone like you to do the job when they had many capable people of their own. “We will pay half now, half later,” Was the final deal breaker.

Surely you could have refused something like this but when he had pulled out a few wads of cash, your eyes had grown big at the sight and agreed. He wasn’t lying about it being easy either. You dressed fairly casual that night and went to the location he gave you. It was a small apartment building tucked away at the end of the big city with not many people around either. It was perfect.

You managed to climb up the building’s fire escape and perched yourself carefully onto the railing of the outside door to the apartment number. The lights were out and it was silent as well. Quickly grabbing the lockpicks tool out from your back pocket, you made easy work of the sliding glass door before letting yourself inside the home.

“Whoever must live here must be whack,” Were the first words to leave your lips as you looked around at the decorations and trinkets.It wasn’t fairly messy but there was nothing that matched. It just looked like a collection of things spewed out here and there. Quickly getting to work, you started rummaging through the living room, but only found video games, weed, and instant meal packages here and there. Letting out a huff, you made your way to the bedroom and started pulling out drawers, digging through the closet, and finally lifting the bed sheets and mattress to the side to find a small black notebook tied to a shoebox. 

“Found you,” You sighed in relief, “Was about to think you weren’t here,”. Untying it from the shoebox, you straightened yourself out before you heard the keys rattling and the doorknob jiggling from the front room. “Shit!” You cursed and quickly looked to his bedroom window. Rushing over to it, you unlocked it with a click, looking down to see that there was a little balcony below you.

“Hello?” You heard from the front room, a concerned male’s voice as footsteps got closer to the bedroom you didn’t have the time to think or look back as you made the decision to jump down, landing with a bit of a thud against the metal flooring before jumping down from that balcony as well. It was a lie to say it didn’t hurt the soles of your feet.

“Hey! Get back here girly!” Was all you heard from him before you took off running, the sound of something hitting the ground with a zap behind you causing the adrenaline to push you to run faster.

You hadn’t stopped running until you were met with a semi busy street, the nightlife letting you blend in with the crowd. You had managed to get the notebook and yourself out of there in one piece. It’s how you got here, back to your home unaware of the golden eyes that had trailed you back to your street.

Looking down at the notebook, you carefully opened it and skimmed through it, famous names and politicians you recognized with dirty secrets scribbled onto the side of the names. “Wow,” You breathed out before an uneasy feeling settled into your stomach. There was a lot in this book, a lot of information anyone in the deeper side of things would love to have. Yet here you were, something that could change a lot in the public's eye of view, resting in the palms of your hands. What made it worse was you were told to hold onto it till someone named Dabi was going to pick it up from you. Standing up, you looked around your apartment scanning for a place to hide this. 

Deciding to put it into a cereal box for now, you went to go take a shower and call it for tonight. You were far too drained to do anything else but that.

The next few days you took it easy, leaving every now and then to get groceries or get a coffee at the nearby cafe, doing your best to keep an eye out on anything that would make you feel unsafe or alerted.

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

“Come on Kami, you have to be sure,” Kirishima muttered as they stayed low in a stolen car, parked outside the apartments in which you lived. “I’m pretty sure that’s her, same hair, same face,” Kaminari eyed the building watching as you returned from the store again,”Clueless little thing huh? I don’t even recognize her from anywhere, she doesn’t even seem like the type to do anything like breaking into houses,” He spewed on watching as you swayed your hips up the stairs to your own little home,”She’s a cutie though,” 

“Yeah, but that cutie has something important. You’re right though, I haven’t seen her around, wonder how she knew about the notebook,” Kirishima mused before grabbing his gun, making sure it was loaded just in case before cocking it,”You sure we need that?” Kaminari asked to which Kirishima looked up at the apartments through the window.

“I hope not, but we don’t know her quirk or if she’s even alone up there,” the redhead responded with hesitation. He didn’t want to hurt her, just scare her enough to get what they want. “But you know what you’re gonna have to do. I’m just here for backup, this is your mistake bro,” kaminari only huffed back at his friend but nodded. Getting out of the car, the duo quickly made their way up the stairs and to the door they saw you vanish through. Reaching for the doorknob, Kaminari gave it a small tug and to his disappointment it was locked. Giving a look to Kirishima, the blonde gave a nod before knocking on the door.

Hearing you scuffle behind the door, his chest felt like it was going to explode when he heard the soft and sweet,”Hello?” come from inside. “We got a delivery for you!” He responded. Kirishima nudged his shoulder giving him a questioning, ‘What the fuck?’ look but when they both heard the door unlock, then quickly focused back to it.

Wasting no time, Kaminari rushed in grabbing you by the arm, his other hand flying to your mouth as he gave you a stern warning look as Kirishima followed inside, closing the door behind him with his foot. Drawing the gun just in case, Kirishima eyed the apartment before looking back at you and Kaminari.

The blonde knew you were in shock, your eyes wide as if you were a deer in headlights but tears quickly prickled at the corners of your eyes as he saw you eye the gun. “Hey, hey, shhh don’t cry it’s okay. Don’t scream or struggle, he won’t use it I promise,” Kaminari cooed, keeping a tight hold of you regardless. Little zaps sprung from his fingertips to show you that while he was talking sweet, he wasn’t going to let you try anything. Walking backwards towards your couch, he slowly removed his hand from your mouth,”Please...don’t hurt me,” You whispered out as you looked up at them. Kaminari would’ve felt more bad if it weren’t for the fact that you had stolen the notebook he was supposed to be keeping. He had to admit though, your wide eyes looking up at him like that made him feel something in his chest.

“Won’t have to if you give back that notebook you stole, baby, just tell us where it is and it’ll make this much easier,” He said sweetly to you and pushed you into the couch, having you fall back onto the cushions. Looking down at you as you pushed yourself further into the couch to try and keep some distance from him had him smirk with a bit of pride. He may be relaxed with his friends but man oh man if he didn’t look scary when he wanted to.

“I don’t know what youre talking about,” You tried to play off, to his disliking. He really didn’t want to have to hurt such a pretty woman like you but damn it if you didn’t spill it out he’d be forced to.

“Lying isn’t pretty you know,” Kaminari cooly muttered before lifting his hand up,”Search for it,” He said over his shoulder to which Kirishima started to go through your things. “I saw you taking it from my home, going through a man’s bedroom isn’t nice,” he continued in a teasing tone as he lowered himself so he was perched on his heels so he could look straight at you. Taking his hand he placed it on your leg causing you to tense up with worry. Watching you eye him back with uncertainty, he only smiled back in return as he let a few sparks against your leg.

“What the fuck!” he watched you hiss and try to pull away from his hand to which he only gripped the top of your leg tighter,”Ah uh,” Kaminari chuckled, a twisted tone in his voice, “Come on now, I don’t wanna have to hurt you more. Just give us the notebook,” He pressed on trying to get you to spill it already, “I’ll give you a minute to tell me, if not I might have to fry a few nerves, and we wouldn’t want that would we baby girl?” 

“Don’t call me that,” You spit back to his surprise. Fiesty one? Yeah he can dig that. “Don’t be so mean,” Kaminari uttered back in fake hurt as he shocked your leg with a little bit of a higher voltage watching as tears came to your eyes,”If you keep this up I’ll have no choice but to think you like this,” He teased and watched her as she gripped onto his own wrist trying to pry him off,”Let me go!” You cried out in frustration. Watching you struggle against his grip was cute but getting annoying, “Did you find it yet?” He shouted looking over his shoulder to try and find Kirishima who was currently digging around in your bedroom. 

“Not yet,” his friend called back. Kaminari was about to reply when he felt something hard smash against his head as well as you crying out in pain at the same time. Letting go of his grip on you, he fell back with a “Oof”. Holding the side of his head, he looked up to see you had headbutted him and were now on your way of getting up towards the door. “Fuck,” Kaminari gritted his teeth and sprung up, being quick to grab you by your wrist and letting out a painful wave of shocks getting you to scream. 

“Kaminari! The neighbors will hear!” He heard Kirishima yell at him causing him to grip onto her mouth, tugging her into the wall and pressing her stomach against the cool surface, “You know babe, I don’t usually get mad,” Kaminari whispered sweetly in your ear in a sickening tone, “But you’re really pushing it right now. Give it up or I’m going to show you how much I can really make you scream,” 

Feeling you tense up and shake against him had the blonde tilted your head back to see terror in your eyes. If this notebook hadn’t been so important, he would have probably apologized right then and there.

“Cereal box,”  He felt you mutter in his hand making him confused instantly. Removing his hand, Kaminari gave you a questioning look. “It’s...It’s in the coco puffs,” You sobbed out and he could tell you were trying to keep yourself calm through this. Looking over to Kirishima from across the room, he watched his friend hurry to the kitchen knowing they had limited time now that they made too much noise here. Digging through your cabinets, he watched his friend pull out a cereal box and spill the contents out, the notebook falling onto the counter, “There it is! Fuck there it is!” Kaminari laughed in relief while holding you between him and the wall,”See that wasn’t so hard? Who would’ve thought cereal was the answer?” He joked trying to lighten the mood.

“I don’t know dude, but we need to get out of here now, the neighbors probably heard her scream,” Kirishima responded but was smiling as well. It was funny seeing that you hid it almost so well in a breakfast box.

“Please...let me go, you have everything you want,” Kaminari looked down to see you with pleading eyes and while he wished he could say they were done with you, he couldn’t. “It’s not that easy baby, you stole...from the mafia no less. That was stupidly brave but our boss isn’t happy,” He explained and when he saw the look on your face of hesitation and fear he tightened his grip on your arm, “Don’t do anything stupid, just cooperate, it’s gonna be fine,” He tried to reassure you but already he could see the defiance building up, “I don’t want to have to knock you out, just relax,” 

“Here, blindfold her,” Kirishima reached over, handing over his headband knowing all too well how these things go. “No! I-” You began to try to fight back but Kaminari was quick to shock that out of you. “Kiri, hold her will you,” He muttered, taking the blindfold with one hand before gently pushing her to Kiri who grabbed both of her wrists and kept her sturdy. “Look just be good and we won’t have to hurt you any further,” Kirishima tried to reason with you looking down at your fearful expression before the black headband covered your red puffy eyes.

“One more thing, get her hands behind her back, I don’t trust her to behave in the car,” Kaminari requested and watched as you struggled a bit against his friend who pulled your hands behind your back. Taking off his own belt, he made a makeshift handcuffs and tightened them around your wrists,” Alright let's get going before we get caught, oh and baby, don’t scream when we get out there, I really don’t want to sedate you with my quirk,”

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

After having the two strangers pull you out of the house quickly and get you to the car, you sat quietly in the back of the car, your heart and mind racing with thoughts and emotions. They had you blindfolded and your wrists tied up together making it difficult to calm down but at least they had the decency to buckle you up. “Hey, breathe, don’t hyperventilate,” You heard the blonde one suddenly say in the midst of the silence. That’s when you realized you really were breathing quick. “Fuck you…,” You mumble back and hear them both sigh a little as the car took off. “What’s your name then?” You heard the one named Kaminari speak again to which you only glared into your blindfold,”Gonna shock me if I don’t tell you?” You questioned back bitterly but hushed. 

“Just tryna make conversation, make you feel a little better,” You heard him respond with a huff before the radio was turned on. You felt somewhat relieved when the music replaced the awkward silence in the car. ‘You just had to get greedy with the money offered and this is where you ended up’ You furiously thought to yourself. Listening to your kidnappers talk with the music in the background had somewhat calmed you down just a bit to start feeling the aftermath of the shocks. Your leg and arm felt tingly still and a headache started to grow from the headbutt earlier. You’re sure to have a bump there later. 

Leaning against the seat of the car more, you shut your eyes and try to zone out to try and get a plan going. You hadn’t realized how much time went by before the car came to a slow and then a halt before hearing a gate screech open and for the car to move slowly forward, the tires sounding like they were on gravel as they stopped again. 

“I’ll get here,” You heard Kaminari say to which the other man snorted,”Not like I was gonna. Here take the notebook too. I said I would help, but I’m not going to face Deku. I already got my ass yelled at a few weeks ago and I’m not getting further into this,” He stated.

“Fineee,” was all you heard before the car doors clicked shut and footsteps to your side opened the car. Feeling hands reach in and unbuckle you, you kept silent in fear as well as anger before he picked you up out the car and helped you over his shoulder,”I can walk!” You hissed.

“Yeah, so can I,” Was the only snarky response you got back as you were carried off. As you reached the inside of wherever you were, you could hear small talk here and there as well as doors opening and closing. You started to feel a bit more nervous with how many people you could hear. Your kidnapper remained eerily silent as well as if he himself was nervous himself.

“Bring her in here,” You heard a different voice call out as Kaminari made a sharp turn into a different path following the voice. After a few more seconds you felt colder as you were put down and pushed into a chair. “Hey-” You started but a quick shock silenced you right up as your arms were tugged out from the belt and a cold metallic material was wrapped around your wrists.

“Now come with me,” The new voice spoke again and the footsteps traveled out the room, a door swinging shut with a loud click afterwards. Now you were chained to something, in a cold room, with a blindfold still on.

“Hello?” You called out and after no response you leaned over getting your face close to your hands before tugging off the blindfold. “What the fuck is this,” You muttered out as light brought onto you a cool grey room with nothing but a table to where your hands were chained, the cahir you were currently sitting on, and a chair in front of you. Starring around, the solid blocked out door was the only way out and god knows how many people were on the other side.

“Don’t cry...don’t you dare cry,” You growl to yourself trying to keep composure as you stare at your hands in anger. Breathing in and out as best as you could to keep from crying you wanted to think of a way out of this but there weren’t any ideas popping in. You were just a small time quirkless thief, not some mafia enemy. You didn’t know how to deal with this.

The door clicked back open causing you to turn your head quickly back to it to watch Kaminari walk back in with a folder,”(Y/N)...such a pretty name! You should have told me earlier baby,” He said making you stiffen up in your seat eyeing him with a glare,” But you really should have said something about being quirkless, I would have gone easy on you,” He pouted over to you making you bare your teeth in disgust.

“Why? Being quirkless doesn’t make us weak,” You spit out in malice disgusted by his suggestion,”I stole that notebook from you without one,” You proudly stated in a matter of fact tone. “Mhm, yeah but look where that got you girly,” Kaminari shot back taking a seat across from you before looking through whatever file he had on you. Golden eyes locked back to yours and a chill went down your spine from the grin he had,”So missy, I see you actually have a fair share of robberies in your file. Well, this time you hit big money huh? Wanna share where you got that information on the little notebook?” He started. 

Taking a small breathe, you knew you couldn’t give that away. Deep down you knew that wasn’t the best idea even if you were in this situation. If Shigaraki’s crew figured it out you told on them, you were most definitely dead. “Bite me,” You answered glaring back down at your hands not wanting to see what expression the man had.

“Maybe later, but right now I kind of need answers baby girl. See, the boss needs answers and he always gets what he needs,” Kaminari laughed lightly but you could tell he wasn’t too happy with your answer, “So lets try this again. Where did you get the information? Don’t make me shock a quirkless girly like you,” 

“I’m not making you do anything, you’re just fucked up enough to be the villain of the situation here,” That line alone made the room feel even colder as you lifted your head to see Kaminari silently put the folder down. He was still smiling and you couldn’t help but want to scoot further away from him. The chair beneath him squeaked against the floor as he got up and made his way behind you. “I told you I’m really slow to anger right?” He muttered lowly without the smile leaving his face and you felt instant regret as he reached over, his chin over your shoulder as his arms trailed up your arm and made their way to your hands. Flipping them over he forced his hands into yours, holding onto them tightly.

“Fuck off,” You huffed trying to shake him off but before you could try to shake him off, a high voltage sparked through both of your hands and through your arms reaching the rest of your body. Screams ripped through your lungs and your back arched off the chair as the tears had flowed down your cheeks. He didn’t let up until he was sure you had learned the message, letting the shocks die down but didn’t move his hands. You went limp against the chair breathing heavily as sobs shook through you.

“Shhh, it’s okay. I’m only hurting you as much as you hurt me with your mean little opinions,” He whispered but something in his voice gave off a small hint of him liking this, “Now, who told you about the notebook?” he asked again his breath close to your ear, “And think hard about what you wanna say. If you wanna act tough, I’ll treat you like you’re tough. You can handle more can’t you babygirl? I’ll make it last longer next time,” He laughed into your ear before he licked the shell causing another shiver to go down your spine.

“You’re...an asshole,” You cried out trying to hold onto the thin string of bravery and confidence to get through this. You heard a dark chuckle from behind you before your mind went blank. A searing pain of shocks went throughout your whole body as your scream filled the room once more, trying to tug your hands away from him but to no luck he remained the stronger of you two. It felt like this would never end and that this pain was going to be with you forever. After what felt like hours, the shocks stopped as your mind went numb. Your eyes closed as they felt heavier and your body felt like it was being pricked over and over again with needles.

“Don’t pass out on me now, come on wake up!” You barely even heard his voice as the blonde squeezed your hands before he helped you sit back up against the chair,”man, I went a little overboard huh?” Chuckled filled the room as he gave light taps to your cheeks causing your eyes to open to look above you, golden honey pools hypnotizing you for a little. “Hey pretty baby, you back from your little high?” He joked before tears pooled down your cheeks again, afraid of what more he could do to you. “Just tell me okay? We don’t wanna be doing this all day and night do we?” He questioned with a smile as he took your hands again making your resolve snap.

“H-He..he told me he would pay me alot...I just wanted to pay bills,” You cried out breaking under the pressure and pain, wanting nothing more than to quit being a thief and just go home to curl up in bed, “Shhh, it’s okay. I get it, you just wanted to survive out in this cold world. Give me a name, I’ll make this all better,” he breathed out, his thumb on your right hand stroking the back of your hand trying to soothe you.

“His n-name is Mr. Compress. I really don’t know his name please...don’t shock me please, that’s all i know! He wanted the notebook and gave me your address that’s all! Please let me go,” You begged wanting nothing more than for this to be over.

“Good girl, there you go. It’s okay, that’s all I wanted,” Kaminari praised before letting go of your hands which you automatically tried to pull back to yourself, your palms red and starting to swell. “I’ll get you some water okay?” He hummed as he gave you a condescending pat to the head before leaving the room. You didn’t care for what he did, you felt so drained and your head just felt so heavy. Closing your eyes you finally gave out and slumped over the table, your breathing uneven.

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

You felt like you were on a cloud surrounded by angels who covered you in their feathers. It felt like you could sink into that pleasurable feeling forever if it weren’t for the pain coursing through your hands. You didn’t want to move, you didn’t want to open your eyes. You didn’t want to be shocked-

You started to remember the moments before you had passed out and panic flung through your chest. You had to get up, assess what’s going on. Managing to open your eyes, you were met with a dimly lit room and soft fleece blankets all around and over you. Carefully sitting up you hissed in pain when your hands ached. Bringing them in front of you, white bandages were wrapped around your palms and fingers. Confusion hit you all at once as you looked up, the only light source coming into the room being from the ajar door. Squinting to try and see better throughout the room, dread filled you as you recognized your surroundings. This is where it all started. The room you took the notebook in.

Being quick to stand up, you felt woozy but the need to leave was greater than the need to sit down. Stumbling to the door, you swung it out and peeked out to see Kaminari sitting lazily on his couch, a ps4 controller in hand as he button mashed away. It was odd not seeing him in a suit, rather in shorts and a simple hoodie. Carefully stepping out, you looked to the front door trying to convince yourself to make a bolt for it. Taking in a small sturdy breath, you launched yourself out the room to try and get to the door but it seemed like your body had other plans. Wobbling forward you managed a few steps before your head pounded causing you to fall to your knees and groan.

“Careful! You’re probably still a little fried,” A voice came from above you and helped stand you up. The same golden eyes that had you crying and being shocked were now looking at you with worry. Dumbfounded by his expression, you let him lead you to his couch and sit you down,”You might want to take it easy for a while, you put up quite a fight in that room,” Kaminari chuckled to which you could only blink at him with confusion as to what was going on with the sudden flip of being nice.

“I want to go home,” Was what you finally managed to say after the two of you had stared at each other in silence. “Yeah...that’s not gonna happen baby girl. It’s a bit more complicated than that,” He responded with a small smile that had a sign of pity in it.

“What do you mean? I really just want to forget everything and go home, please,” You tried to argue to which he shrugged and sunk into the back of the couch getting comfortable again. Not bothering to look at you, he stared at the t.v ahead of him, “Well, there were three options on what to do with you. One, we could have killed you which I really didn’t want to do. Two, we could have released you but that would have left us open for an attack. Shigaraki’s side could have kidnapped you right after and tortured you again and killed you after for information about the book and us. Then this option. I could take you home with me, keep you safe and away from your own crimes and as well as us safe from others taking you for information. I took a liking to you, it would have felt a shame to kill a pretty babe like you,” He explained fully, before looking back at you. You felt horrified, looking back down at your hands to come up with something to say but you didn’t. You drew a blank. All you could think was that if you did leave, you’d have two mafia groups looking for your death/capturement but if you stayed, you would be forever locked away with this man who you know nothing of beside the fact that he works for the mafia.

“Hey, I know that’s a lot to take in, but I’m doing you a favor, keeping you here to stay alive. All you gotta do is listen to me, and we’ll both be happy. You can also call me Denki from now on, ‘Kay?” Kaminari hummed as he got up walking to his room and coming back with the soft blanket you were snuggled into earlier. Dropping it onto your head, he plopped down next to you.

“Denki?” You whispered out his name as you hugged the soft blanket around you for the comfort, “What...what am I supposed to do here?” You asked fearful of the answer looking at him as his eyes had a brighter shine than before.

“Just be a good girly and we will see what you can do,” He answered back and looked back to his game starting it back up, “You’ll make a cute little housewife or something. We’ll figure it out,”

[cpd5021]

Secrets Chapter 2

Here we are with part two of this installment, let me know what you think!

               Working together and managing to keep a majority of the actual truth from Voight, Hailey and Jay secured a buy with Booth. They informed the team of the details and quickly convened as a group at the specified location. Hailey felt her body threatening to tremble as the nerves coursed through her, but one look at Jay helped to calm them. This was her chance to finally bring Booth down, to avenge Garrett and maybe bring some peace for herself and Lucas knowing that the man responsible for their broken family was gone. As they watched Booth pull up, Hailey couldn’t help but shudder at the sight of him. Booth noticed her apprehension, motioning for her to step closer before yanking her arm and shoving her against his car. Jay reacted which only spurred Booth on. She felt sick when his hand slid between her legs, memories of that awful night flashing before her eyes. When Jay protested loudly at his behavior, Booth pressed into her again, harder this time. Hailey tried to choke back the scream threatening to leave her mouth. Jay couldn’t handle this, couldn’t handle seeing her being man handled like this. Booths nephew saw Jay raise the him of his shirt, reaching for his gun. It hit the fan after that. Shots were fired and Hailey watched as Booth bolted towards the stairwell, she chased after him quickly, she couldn’t let him escape...not when she was so close to ending him. Hailey crashed into the stairwell after him, but her emotions were getting the better of her and Booth was able to catch her off guard. He grabbed a hold of her, slamming her into the wall, one blow after another. She was able to fight back, the anger that had been boiling inside of her for three years finally getting its release. Somehow, despite Booth being twice her size, she was able to subdue him and he was now on the ground in front of her. She straddled him, gun pointed directly at his face and ready to pull the trigger. But before Hailey shot him, hoping she’d be able to chock it up to self defense, she wanted to hear him say the words. That he had killed Garrett. She needed him to confess so that she knew she had won. 

“You’ll never find him.” Booth laughed, blood pooling out of his mouth. Her body reamed with anger, she screamed, striking him with her gun. Jay was behind her then, watching as she once again leveled her gun to Booth’s head. 

“Hailey...” His voice was soft, trying to get her attention before she went to far. “Hailey if you do this...he wins. It can’t go down like this.”

    He was right, she knew he was. But that didn’t make this situation any easier. She wanted nothing more than to pull the trigger, to watch the life fade from his eyes. Hailey blinked away tears as Lucas’s face flashed before her, if she did this there was a chance they would charge her with murder. This wasn’t something Voight could get her out of and that would mean Lucas would have lost both parents to this man. She couldn’t do that. Slowly, she lowered her gun and moved her body off of his. She felt Jay’s hand on her shoulder as she brushed past him but she didn’t stop. Hailey needed to get out of here before she fell apart. 

     Booth was taken to the precinct and Hailey was perched on the back of an ambulance after Brett had checked her over. Jay came up to her, his body somber in the flashing lights. She didn’t want to talk to him right now, didn’t want him to see her like this. Before she had the chance to push him away, Voight rounded the back of the ambulance. If looks could kill, they would be dead. He went at Jay first, bellowing about not following orders and keeping him in the loop with things he needed to know. This was definitely something Voight should have been in on, but given all the details of the situation, Hailey had begged Jay to not tell him the whole truth. When he was done, he dismissed Jay, ignoring Jay’s protests to stay with Hailey. Hailey wanted to reassure him, to give him at least a look to let him know she would be okay, but she couldn’t even muster that. Instead, she hung her head and waited for Voight to unleash on her. 

“You...” He started, his voice much calmer than she was expecting. “Look like hell.” That brought a small chuckle to her lips and she risked a glance up at her superior. 

“Thanks.” She pursed her lips in a sheepish look. 

“We are going to discuss this. All of this. Every last detail.” He drilled into her, his face coming closer with every word. “Because I know things Hailey, I know things now that I should have known before this operation started. Things that you should have been forward with from the very beginning.” Hailey’s chin quivered as she fought back her emotions, her eyes glued down on her hands as she blinked away tears. “But for tonight, I want you to go home. Clean yourself and be with him.”  Hailey lifted her head up, tears falling freely now at the thought of her son. Voight placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, but she couldn’t bring herself to look at him. “I’m giving you a few days off. We’ll need to discuss this before you can come back to work, but I need you to clear your head first.” 

    She watched as he walked away from her then. She stood and made her way to her vehicle, not surprised when she found Jay leaning against it. Hailey managed to give him a small smile, which he returned with worry filled eyes. She still couldn’t do this right now, she was a mess and simply didn’t have the energy to talk to him tonight. Jay offered her a ride home but she denied him. He protested briefly before deciding not to push her any farther. Hailey drove herself home, placing a call to Stephanie to let her know she was on her way but asking if she could shower before she picked him up. Once home and in the shower, Hailey fell apart as the hot water poured over her skin. 

*******

    It had been a day and a half since her incident with Booth in the stairwell. She had tried to set up a meeting with Voight, but he told her to take a few more days before coming in. As much as she hated being away from work she was thankful for the extra time with Lucas. They had spent that night curled up in her bed, reading all his favorite books. The next morning they had made his favorite for breakfast, Mickey Mouse shaped pancakes. And then they had spent the day at the park. It was exactly what Hailey needed. Today they were running a few errands. Hailey had turned her phone off that night, and aside from her brief conversation with Voight, that’s how it had remained since. She knew that Jay was worried and that he was probably blowing up her phone, but she was too afraid to face him just yet. Hailey pulled into the grocery store parking lot, grabbing her list and wallet before climbing out and going around to pick up Lucas. She was so focused on his laughter as they skipped into the store that she didn’t notice the pick up truck parked a few spaces down from hers, the driver watching her intently. 

   Jay wasn’t sure this was the best idea. Hailey had been ignoring his calls and texts and he was worried about her. He had pulled onto her street right as she was backing out of the driveway and he decided to follow her. To his surprise, she hadn’t noticed him tailing her. Either that or she was ignoring him there too. Jay watched as they entered the store, a smile forming on his face as he watched her laughing with the small boy in her arms. Jay wasn’t sure what to do now, should he just wait here? Should he go in and causally bump into her? He knew she wouldn’t buy that, this wasn’t even remotely close to where he lived or would shop so she would know why he was here. But, after a moment, he decided to try it anyway. Jay quickly made his way across the lot and into the store. He grabbed one of the baskets and started wandering down the isle, grabbing a few things he didn’t really need in an attempt to make this look more convincing. Jay was feigning interest in a boxed muffin mix when he heard her laughter again. He glanced up to see her entering the isle from the other end, she smiled at the boy in the cart as he pointed to a box of cereal on the shelf. She picked it up, teasing him with it before tossing it in the cart. Suddenly, Jay felt nervous and embarrassed at the thought of her busting him, so he quickly ducked around the corner. Deciding that this was an awful idea, he made his way to the registers to pay for his items and returned to his truck. Stalking her at the store was sure to piss her off, so he settled for showing up at her house when he knew she would be home. 

 ********

     After they finished their shopping trip, Hailey drove them home. Lucas fell asleep on the way so she started unloading groceries from her car while he napped. On her second trip out, as she was reaching for the milk that had slide way back into her trunk, she heard a car door shut. Hailey knew who it most likely was before she even turned around. Pretending she hadn’t noticed him yet, Hailey continued to grab at the bags of food. Suddenly, he was behind her, close enough that she could feel his presence. Hailey watched as a strong arm reached beside her, grabbing a jug of laundry detergent from her car. Her eyes trailed up the chiseled arm and landed on Jay’s face. She was met with a sheepish grin and could tell he hadn’t really thought this through. 

“Need a hand?” He asked, trying to break the sudden awkward silence. Hailey debated telling him no and that he should leave. She was mildly annoyed he had just shown up without asking first, but then again she had been ignoring him so he really couldn’t have done that. 

“Sure.” She gave him a curt nod before hauling her load into the house. After she set her bags down, she made to go grab the next load, stopping when Jay brushed through the door carrying what appeared to be the rest of her groceries.

“That’s everything.” He grinned at her and she couldn’t help but smile. 

“Not everything.” Hailey sighed, not sure she actually wanted to do this. Telling Jay about Lucas was one thing, introducing him felt like something else entirely. 

“I can leave..” Jay trailed off, realization crossing his face rapidly. 

“No...stay.” Hailey sighed again, closing her eyes briefly before stepping around him and walking back to her car. Jay awkwardly stood in her kitchen while he waited for her to return, suddenly feeling very nervous, his palms slick with sweat. 

    Tiny footsteps bounded into the kitchen, stopping instantly when he saw Jay. Hailey stepped up behind the boy, placing a reassuring hand on his small shoulders. She knelt down, giving him a smile and pressing her forehead into his. 

“Lucas, this is my friend Jay. He works with me.” Hailey placed a kiss on the boys cheek before standing up to face Jay. “And Jay, this is Lucas.” Her voiced trembled slightly as she finished, but she swallowed hard and tried to blow it off. 

“Hey bud!” Jay knelt down to get onto the boys level, pointing to a toy car clutched in his little hand. “That looks like a pretty fast car.” 

 Lucas gave him a nod, glancing up at Hailey before walking over and handing Jay the car. “Wanna race?” His voice was soft and sweet, bringing an instant smile to Jay’s face. Jay nodded enthusiastically and watched as the boy sprinted away to get more cars. Jay stood, eyes meeting Hailey’s and found her blinking back tears. He would have been concerned, but then he saw a genuine smile reach her face. 

“Do you want to stay for dinner? It’s spaghetti night.” Hailey asked softly, unsure if this was a line Jay was ready to cross. Jay agreed, finding himself amused at the fact that his hard as nails partner had an established night for spaghetti.

“Sounds great.” He gave her a smile and then his attention was drawn away by Lucas, who had brought an entire bin of cars into the kitchen, proudly dumping them onto the floor. Hailey sighed but smiled as she watched Jay get down on the floor with her son, instantly engaging in what she knew would be a never ending race. 

This might be okay after all.   

[tomeandflickcorner]

Episode Review- The Real Ghostbusters: Lost and Foundry

Full marks for creative plot with this episode.  Though I can’t really say much more than that.

The Ghostbusters are pursuing a ghost through a steel yard. They eventually chase the ghost into a room filled with smelting vats. There, Egon fires his Proton Pack at the ghost, who ends up falling into one of the smelting vats, vanishing instantly. When Egon consults his PKE Meter, he is puzzled that he’s getting a negative reading, which suggests the ghost is no longer there.  Ray states that the Ion Streams shouldn’t disintegrate a ghost, but Egon announces it was theoretically possible.  Though Peter expressed no interest in investigating the matter further and announced it was time to head back to the Firehouse.  After the Ghostbusters drive off, the camera focuses on a workman operating a forklift, apparently coming to transport some of the molten steel.  A short time later, we see a pile of steel girders, which begin to glow with an eerie light.

Okay, this is when I instantly became invested in this episode. Because what happened to the ghost here was obvious and still subtle at the same time, so it was understandable that the Ghostbusters didn’t figure it out yet.  A ghost fusing with molten steel?  That’s actually really creative and brilliant!

Upon returning to the Firehouse, Winston opened up his locker to put away his gear, only to find Slimer inside.  The little green ghost is currently wearing one of Winston’s spare uniforms.  Winston bemoans that the uniform Slimer had put on had been one of his clean ones.  Peter, being Peter, suggested Slimer should head over to his locker, as he has something Slimer could play with.  As he says this, he holds up a Ghost Trap.  The underlining meaning of his statement very clear to Slimer, and he responds by diving for a nearby Proton Pack and pointing a Proton Thrower at Peter.  Winston comes to Slimer’s defense, remarking how it’s cute how Slimer is clearly trying to pretend that he’s a Ghostbuster, too.  However, Slimer suddenly activates the Proton Thrower by mistake and comes very close to shooting Peter in the head.  Fortunately, he misses.  Though the blast does collide with the nearby firepole, causing it to warp and bend. And Peter is seriously angry at Slimer. Can’t say I really blame him this time, though.  While it was clearly an accident, Slimer could have actually killed Peter just then. Peter lunges for Slimer, but the other Ghostbusters manage to hold him back and are able to talk him down.  In the end, Peter agrees to let this incident go. As for the firepole, Janine is tasked with making a phone call to UR Steel, the company who owns the steel yard the Ghostbusters had just left.  After all, UR Steel owes them a favor for seemingly getting rid of the ghost, so they should be more than willing to provide them with a replacement firepole.

Sometime later, the Ghostbusters are called back onto the field. It seems that there’s been a disturbance at the department store Dears (which is most likely a parody of Sears).  One of the salesmen saw an avocado green Dears brand refrigerator moving on its own.  (You might be tempted to make a refrigerator running joke here, but I urge you to refrain.) The Ghostbusters follow a trail of water across the floor, but they ultimately decide that there’s probably nothing paranormal going on here when they see that both the PKE Meter and their Plasmatometer are getting negative readings.  They turn to leave, not noticing the avocado green refrigerator is right around the corner, sliding away on its own.

Elsewhere, a pair of cablemen are working when the television cable they were using came alive and begin to attack them.  They manage to get away and contact the Ghostbusters, but by the time the Ghostbusters arrived, the possessed TV cable had wrapped itself around a large building, and had even uprooted a tree.  The Ghostbusters fire their Proton Packs at the cable, but while this does result in the television cable unwrapping itself from the building, it manages to escape by slipping under a nearby manhole cover before the Ghostbusters could stop it.  And nobody seemed willing to go down into the sewers after it.

As the Ghostbusters began driving through the city, possibly trying to come up with an idea of what was going on and what they could do, they happen to pass by a hardware store that everyone was running outside of in a panic.  They stop the car just in time for a volley of nails to come flying out of the hardware store, shattering not only the storefront window, but the windows of the Ecto-1 as well.  Fortunately, the Ghostbusters manage to duck out of the way before any of the nails hit them.  And just next door, at a grocery store, a large amount of cans suddenly flew off the shelves and out the front door on their own.  Upon seeing this, Peter makes a comment about can openers, but Egon announces those weren’t ordinary cans.  And it’s clear from his facial expression that he’s probably starting to figure things out.

It then cuts over to an art museum, where some sculptor is about to unveil her latest sculpture, which she describes as an example of anti-neo post modernism.  (In other words, it’s just a bunch of random junk she threw together.)  The unveiling is interrupted when the sculpture comes to life and literally runs out the door.  Then, over at a construction site, the steel girders they were using also come to life.  The Ghostbusters soon arrive at the construction site, and Egon reveals that he is indeed starting to piece it all together, asking Peter what steel girders, nails and refrigerators all have in common.  Before Egon could elaborate on his theory, Winston directs everyone’s attention to the steel girders, which are crawling up the side of the building like caterpillars.  The Ghostbusters fire their Proton Packs, but this kinda backfires on them as it results in a section of the building breaking loose and falling right towards them. Fortunately, they narrowly escape death because of a well-placed gap in the middle of the structure.  Egon then voices his puzzlement about how his PKE Meter isn’t detecting anything, even though the possessed steel girders must still be around there.  Winston suggests there might be something wrong with Egon’s PKE Meter, but Ray says he’s not picking up anything, either.  So it can’t just be a case of equipment malfunction.  Peter suggests they return to the Firehouse and discuss the matter over lunch.  As the Ghostbusters drive off, the steel girders emerge from the wreckage.

At the Firehouse, Peter immediately announces he’s exhausted and begins to head upstairs to take a nap. As he slumps upstairs, Janine informs them that the new firepole had been installed while they were out.  A few minutes later, the phone rings.  It seems that a refrigerator was seen trying to cross six lanes of traffic on the Jersey turnpike.  When Peter is called back downstairs, he reluctantly crawls out of bed, but when he attempts to slide down the new firepole, he suddenly gets stuck, as if the pole was coated in very strong glue.  Then he suddenly starts sliding up and down the pole rapidly. At first, Egon seemed to think that Peter was just messing around, but they soon realize that Peter wasn’t in control of himself.  As Peter suddenly begins spinning around the pole like a centrifuge, the Ghostbusters hurry forward to try and help him, only to get themselves knocked backwards.

Egon then announces this further supported his working theory, considering the new firepole came from UR Steel.  He’s now concluded that the Ion Streams electrolyzed the ghost they had been hunting, which resulted in it fusing with the molten steel.  And the reason why the ghost’s presence no longer registered on the PKE Meter was because there was too much interference from the steel’s rigid molecular structure.  Winston catches on to what Egon is saying, realizing that all the steel-made items they’ve been dealing with, from the refrigerator to the steel girders, are all part of the same ghost. Ray then speculates that, if that were true, then all the different components would have the natural tendency to reunite.  The moment Ray makes this conclusion, the firepole breaks free from the Firehouse’s floor and launches out the window, releasing Peter from its hold in the process.   So the Ghostbusters speed off after the firepole, knowing that if they follow it, they should find all the other possessed steel objects.  They eventually follow the firepole to a salvage yard in New Jersey.

Upon arriving at the salvage yard, the Ghostbusters soon realize that locating the possessed steel objects will be like finding a needle in a haystack.  Especially since they still can’t track the ghost down with the PKE Meter.  Fortunately, the possessed steel objects find them, as they’ve all congregated together to form a giant steel scorpion creature. The Ghostbusters attempt to shoot their Proton Packs at the Steel Scorpion, but this doesn’t work as the Steel Scorpion simply reassembled itself.  So the Ghostbusters turn and run for cover as the Steel Scorpion gives chase.

Thankfully, Ray has an idea, and he and the other Ghostbusters manage to lead the Steel Scorpion into an on-site compactor.  At first, it looks as if Ray’s plan worked, as the Metal Scorpion is crushed down into a square block.  But this proves to only be temporary, as it managed to reform itself again.  This time as a Steel Giant.  The Steel Giant promptly smashes the control booth to the compactor before once again turning its focus on the Ghostbusters.

As they turn to run, Winston notices a nearby crane.  He quickly leads the others inside and attempts to use the crane to strike the Steel Giant down, but this only makes the Steel Giant even angrier.  So the Ghostbusters have to once again try and run.  Peter, however, got one of the hoses on his Proton Pack caught on the crane’s controls, so he was stuck.  As he struggled to get free as the Steel Giant attacked the crane, he inadvertently activated the magnet affixed to the top of the crane. This results in the Steel Giant to break apart, with the individual metal pieces sticking to the magnet.

Egon announces all that’s left to do now is to separate the ghost from the individual pieces of steel.  To do so, they bring all the steel pieces, still attached to the magnet, back to UR Steel and melt them down in the same smelting vat from before.  Soon, the ghost emerges from the smelting vat, completely whole again, and the Ghostbusters quickly trap it.  As the Ghostbusters celebrate a job well done, Peter expressed a desire install a crane for the Firehouse’s office.

Yeah, really creative concept for this one.  To think a ghost’s essence could become infused with molten steel.  And then get turned into various pieces of steel objects. I particularly appreciated how it was clear what must have happened to from the start, but it still had Egon figure it out at a naturally gradual pace.  Unfortunately, I can’t really think of anything more to say about this particular episode.  Which is strange, because it wasn’t a terrible episode. Though, if I had to pick something else to focus on, it was Peter. In this episode, there was a brief moment when Winston comments on how Peter seemed particularly down lately. While the episode does seem to brush that aside rather quickly, it did leave me wondering about that.  If it weren’t for the fact that the show is largely episodic in nature, with little to no overarching plotlines, I’d think this would be building up to something.

(Click here for more Ghostbusters reviews)

[jimlingss]

The Deli Diaries [Finale]

Chapter 1 || Chapter 2 || Chapter 3 || Chapter 4 || Chapter 5 || Chapter 6 || Chapter 7 || Chapter 8 || Chapter 9 || Chapter 10 || Chapter 11 [Finale]

➜ Words: 2.6k

➜ Genres: Fluff & Cuteness, That good ol’ slow burn, Slice of Life

➜ Summary: Working at a grocery store deli is absolutely unbearable (and you’re also perfectly aware of how dramatic you are). But it seems like something, or rather, someone might make the job a bit more manageable.

➜ Warnings: Mundane-ness that might make you bored to death

➜ Notes: oh my god, for all of you who read the entire series, thank you very much! I hope you enjoyed reading about this couple. I most certainly enjoyed writing about them - for one, I never thought I’d end up writing a series about my summer part time job lol. It wasn’t that exciting. But I’m happy that something good came out of it and now I can look back with better memories. Enjoy!

The deli is your second home.   And not because you like it here or that it’s cozy or provides you a sense of comforting warmth. No. It’s simply the place you’ve frequented the most in the past few months aside from your own bedroom. That makes it fairly tragic since you don’t like this place at all. It’s not that your job is particularly difficult — you’ve actually gotten used to it and now your body just goes on autopilot.   It’s the same thing day in and day out. Serving customers. Flipping salads. Making pizzas. Throwing chicken in the oven. Slicing hams, salamis, roast beef, sausage. Filling the meat case, the freezer, and stocking the shelves. You’ve become a master of the deli….which is probably the saddest title you’ve ever given yourself.   But while you hate your job, you’ve learnt to love something else here.   Or rather...someone.   “Park Jimin.” Your hands are on your hips and you’ve stopped in your tracks, bag swinging from your shoulder. “What do you think you’re doing?”   A boyish grin spreads across his face and he peels off his gloves, grabbing his own bag and joining your side as your foot taps impatiently. “I’m going on my break.”   “You weren’t slacking, were you?”   “No,” he quips, following you into the back.   “What would you do if I reported it to the manager?” You bump into him purposely with a smile and he giggles, synchronizing his steps with yours.   “I’d tell you to provide evidence.”   “I have evidence.” You feel like an idiot smiling this wide for no reason at all. But Jimin just makes you feel that way — a giddy dumbass who always feels too happy and fuzzy. “You’re always staring at me from across the floor. You thought I wouldn’t notice?”   “I’m not staring,” he argues, “You’re the one who’s staring!”   You scoff. “I am not.”   “Then how would you know I’m staring if you’re not looking either?”   “I feel it.”   “You feel it? That means you’re not paying attention to your work.” The boy shakes his head in feigned disapproval. “What a slacker.”   You gasp, pushing the door to enter the staff room. “I will not be accused like this.” But at once your voice quiets down when you see a familiar old lady sitting at the table. She’s back at it again, going through her pile of newspapers, and the two of you were noisy enough that she looks up with a smile.   “Afternoon.”   “Good afternoon,” Jimin replies politely and you repeat him. As you’re busy microwaving the chicken pot pie, he pulls out a chair and one beside him for you.   “You two seem close,” the lady notes out of friendliness and slight nosiness.   “Eh, not really,” you say, joking around. You exchange a look with the produce boy and the mischief twinkles in his brown irises.   “She’s alright, I guess,” Jimin adds on.   “Well, it’s always nice to have a work friend.” The lady doesn’t catch on that you’re just kidding and she quickly returns back to her flyers, re-adjusting her round spectacles on the tip of her nose. In the meanwhile, Jimin has taken out his sandwich that’s split into half and you grab two spoons for the chicken pot pie, pulling it out of the microwave once it’s done and sitting down.   “Look at these Walmart rollbacks,” the old woman sighs. “They can only afford these prices because they pay their workers so low.”   She flips furiously through the papers, licking her thumb and filing through. You hum in acknowledgment while Jimin takes a spoonful of the pie, eating it. To appease the lady, he comments, “we’re unionized.”   “Exactly.” She inhales a sharp breath through her teeth. “People shop there because it’s cheaper, but I’d rather spend a little bit more to support a better company and know where my products are coming from.”   “Yeah…” If it wasn’t obvious enough by the way your shoulders slump, you’re dejected. You really didn’t want to spend your break with Jimin talking about groceries or other stores. To be frank, you didn’t walk to talk about that even with anyone at any time. But there was no way out of this conversation now, especially since it’s practically one-sided and the woman was talking to herself. There’s no escape when there wasn’t one to begin with.   But your thoughts are interrupted when you feel a warm touch skimming on your arm by your side. Your body jolts and when you turn your head, Jimin’s looking straight ahead, chewing food innocently in his cheek. He talks to the lady, but underneath the table and out of her eyesight, his fingers find your palm.   He laces his fingers through yours, holding your hand, folding them nicely together.   “They mass produce, but no one really cares for you there when you shop.”   “It’s hard to ask help there,” the boy says, grinning with his rosy cheeks puffed out in satisfaction, as if he just won a game or the lottery.   He’s such an idiot. A sappy idiot. But you’re a bigger idiot for being so endeared.   You squeeze his hand, cheeks burning, and the tips of his ears turn red. It makes eating more difficult when your dominant hand is preoccupied, but you manage.   “It’s exactly that! Our store values customer service and all the money gets returned to the workers, not some rich CEO guy hoarding it all.” The woman exhales exhaustingly, passionate in her rant. “It gets harder and harder to compete every year and it’s unbelievable that places like Walmart and Costco are the ones succeeding.”   “What do you think?” Jimin suddenly twists towards you, all too mischievous and playful, causing your trance to shatter and for your mind to reel.   “I…………………...uh-…....agree.”   The old woman finishes rifling through the advertisement newspaper and sets it aside. She takes off her glasses, folding and sliding them into her red apron pocket. “Well, there’s nothing we can really do. My break is over, so you two youngins enjoy yourselves now.”   “Okay, bye!” You’re too happy that she’s finally leaving and fortunately enough, she doesn’t pick up on it. The old lady just washes her hand in the sink, pulling paper towels to clean them off and she wobbles out of the staff room, down the stairs. Once there’s peace and quiet, you swivel yourself around with an incredulous expression. “Really? ‘What do I think’?”   A squeaky laugh filters out of his mouth and he shrugs. “It’s an innocent question. And you looked...distracted.”   “Because of this.” You drag his arm up, revealing your held hands to the light, fingers still intertwined together. “Can you let me eat? I only have twenty minutes left!”   Jimin pouts. “But I can feed you.” To prove his point, he scoops up some pie with his spoon and you’re reluctant to give in. But when he bumps your mouth with the food, you exhale, looking away and allowing your lips to part. The boy eagerly feeds you. “See?”   “You’re unbelievable.”   “My turn!” He opens his mouth big and wide and you bring up your part of the sandwich. He happily chomps down and chews while gloating like you feeding him makes the food taste a lot better. He mumbles, “you’re dating me, so you’re the one with questionable tastes here.”   “Just be lucky you’re cute, produce boy.”   He smiles and then his brows move up as if he just remembered something. Jimin turns to search through his bag and he plops a baggie of strawberries down. “You like these, right?”   “Did you take them?” you whisper lowly, even when no one else is around. The boy merely shrugs and you shoot a suspicious look at him before opening it and popping one into your mouth. “Don’t blame me if you’re fired.”   “I won’t, don’t worry. It’s not like I’ll be here for long either way.” Jimin finally lets go of your hand, the both of you eating properly before time runs out. “Did you hand in your two weeks notice yet?”   “I’m doing it tomorrow.” You finish the sandwich, dusting your hands off. The resignation letter is printed and in an envelope, sitting in your bag and ready to be delivered to your manager tomorrow — and the mere thought of it makes you excited. “Are you going to quit too? You shouldn’t just because I am.”   “But what am I supposed to do here when you’re gone?”   “Your job.”   You laugh, drinking water from your bottle and Jimin finishes up too. He stands, putting the trash in the bin and sitting back down again. His irises glisten and he smiles. “What happens if I fall in love with the next deli girl they hire?”   A snort rushes out of your nose. “At the rate they’re going at, they’ll probably hire someone a lot older, like a mom with three kids.”   “Moms can be hot.”   “Are you telling me about a kink you have?”   Jimin smiles. “My parents wanted me to quit a few months back to focus on school. I’ve been staying around here for a certain someone—”   “I’m honoured.”   “—and I’ve saved up enough money to spend for the next year and a half anyways. Plus….I want to have time to go on dates with you.”   “Do you expect me to actually go out on dates with you, Park?” You quirk your head to the side, throwing a strawberry into your cheek. “I think you underestimate how much I like staying at home in my pajamas.”   He grins. “Then I’ll come over.”   “And have my dad chase you out with his lawnmower?”   “His lawnmower?” His brows furrow, slightly scared before he breaks out into a fit of giggles, making you smile. You can envision Jimin being chased down, ready to be mowed over, and it’s equally funny as it is horrifying. “Your parents would love me.”   Somehow, you don’t doubt that at all. Park Jimin is one charming man.   Your hands dig into the baggie and you look up at him. “Want a strawberry? It’s the last one.”   “No, it’s okay.” Jimin shakes his head. His elbow is propped on the table, chin in his hand and he gazes at the way you pop the red fruit in your mouth. The corners of his mouth curls. “Actually, I changed my mind.”   “Rewrlly?” Your eyes widen, staring into his, words muffled, surprised.   And he leans in.   Park Jimin holds your face in his palms. He kisses you and inhales. His head tilts slightly. Your lips are still parted and he welcomes himself inside, tongue slipping in, slyly stealing the strawberry straight from your mouth. And he pulls away before you can react, chewing the fruit.   You’re shocked, unable to believe he actually did that, but Jimin is unfazed. Nonchalant. He’s averted his eyes elsewhere and humming at the taste. “It’s sweet.”   “Oh my god.”   The little shit smiles like he is unaware of what he just did and doesn’t know why you’re surprised. “What’s wrong?”   “You’re what’s wrong with me.” Your face feels like a furnace, skin on fire, and between the pair of you, you’re the only one who’s embarrassed. You’ve been betrayed. You’ve been wrongfully advertised. He is nothing like the shy and timid produce boy you thought you knew.   Park Jimin is so entirely bold sometimes that it gives you whiplash. Your second kiss ever with him and he’s already doing this. Your heart’s not gonna last.   He grins, a shit-eating smile plastered across his face. “Sorry, couldn’t resist.”   You’re going to combust. The doctors are going to have no idea how it happened. No one is going to show up at the funeral. But goddammit, you are not going to go down losing to him.   “You have something on your face.”   “What?” Jimin is alarmed by your sudden comment and his hand raises.   Within a blink of an eye, your hand has grabbed a fistful of his red apron and you pull him in as if you’re about to beat him up. But instead of pummeling his beautiful face with your fist, you smack your mouth on his, all too amateur, but still shoving down your shame to kiss him quickly.   “Me.”   Oh my god. The cheesy line makes you want to internally die. It’s so greasy that you feel squeamish, but Jimin likes it all too much. He’s a sucker for things like this and when you pull away, he leans in to kiss you for a third time.   This time, his smile presses on yours. It isn’t a hasty peck made from embarrassment or any sly moves to steal strawberries off your tongue. It’s slower, much more normal, and one to be savoured. Jimin tilts his head ever so slightly, holding your face gently in his hands, half-lidded eyes drinking in your expression and the way your lashes lay as you shut your eyes.   His touch on you is gentle and still a bit hesitant, and your hands eventually find purchase on his arms, like you’re telling him to stay still and not move away. His lips are plush and you muse how soft and warm it feels. It’s also becoming less and less awkward the more times that you kiss each other and as you melt into his embrace, you realize he smells like apples and oranges. Thankfully, rather than sliced ham, you smell like salads and lemon dish soap.   “Ahem!”   Someone clears their throat noisily as if they were choking on a chicken bone. They’re exiting from the bathroom, glaring at you both with daggers in their eyeballs. They beeline out the staff room, but it’s enough for you to be mortified and pull away.   Jimin is still staring at you and a smile tugs on his swollen lips. His eyes crinkle and a cute giggle spills from his chest. You sulk childishly at him. “We’re going to get called in by the union because of PDA complaints.”   He shrugs. “We’re both quitting anyways, might as well go out with a bang.”   Another fit of laughter bubbles out of you.   It’s hard to believe that the guy who annoyed you, making you slice up pepperoni twenty minutes before closing would end up being such a soft produce boy. You would’ve never known that the person who greeted you meekly on your first day here would end up being so important to you.   As sour as you feel about this place, at least you’re leaving with good memories, some pocket money, and the sweetest boyfriend in existence.   “So, I’ll see you on Wednesday for the closing shift?” Jimin joins your side after clocking out for the day.   “You’re going to see me on Monday during class, Jimin. And we have that date afterwards.”   “Right, right.” His arm is thrown over your shoulder, synchronizing his steps into yours, matching your pace as you walk home together.   The manager on duty smiles, watching you both in your own little world — leaving while laughing and bumping into each other, bickering before giving in to one another. As your backsides fade off into the distance, the manager turns around, closes the door and locks it for the night.   While you and Jimin won’t be working here anymore, you’re excited to have a life outside of the store. After all, you’re both no longer just silently staring at each other across the grocery floor.

[pegasusdragontiger]

The Runaway Jeans and Mr. Squiggle

Pairing: Chris Evans Reader x her

Rating: G

Warnings: Fluff and feels, Laughter.  

Summary: Chris needs to catch the runaway jeans!

 Shout out to @always-an-evans-addict you read it and edited it for me this lady is an  angel, beautiful person you needs hugs and a lot of presents! For the @always-an-evans-addict Challenge she sent to me <3<3  

 Enjoy!

 “We’ve been through so much together, you're my buddy, but there is one thing that we both know is a no go. It breaks my heart to do this to say this, as I think you know how important you are to us and our family.”

 Chris sips his coffee as he sits on the couch, placing the coffee on the coffee table and taking a deep breath. He shakes his head, looking up. “I have called this emergency meeting to discuss with you the rules of the house. I know it is a lot to take in and to process but these kinds of things need to be aired and discussed with an open heart and mind.”

 He hears a rustling and fidgeting of clothing, along with a little cough, causing him to look to the side. Mikey is sitting there watching an episode of Mr.Squiggle, which has been discontinued for a long time but, as his wife introduced the show to your little boy not that long ago, he was hooked on the show. Normally he would be fidgeting and chatty through all TV shows, but this show seemed different; He was transfixed by the puppets and the host, seeing them drawing the Characters like Blackboard. For you it was hilarious and entertaining. You couldn’t understand why or how this show never made it to kid’s screens here in the U.S or the UK, but was hugely popular in Australia from 1959 to 1999. Little kids loved seeing all the drawings that Mr.Squiggle did each episode.

 Hearing the theme song and making clappy hands as it started to play, Mikey wiggles around in excitement for the start of his favourite show. Chris remembers what your wife said before she headed out to go grocery shopping. “Thank god for Youtube and smart people that loved this show for uploading it- so that parents and former fans of the show could watch the episodes anytime they want.” She told you how the first time she showed Mikey an episode the stillness that came over him, the absolute focus was frightening but a god send. The amount of things you could get done in one room while he watched an episode was amazing.

 “You ok, Mikey?”

 He replied “Shh, Daddy, I needs ta lisen to the song!”

 “Sorry Buddy.” Turning his focus back to the problem at hand, he sighs. “Well, this is how it is going to go down. I will ask you to drop them, and you will let go. In exchange, I will give you the one thing you want the most- which you know Mom won’t let you have for too long as you’ll make yourself sick.” Chris rubs his hands together and lets out a chuckle. “Alright, I will come over to that side of the room, and I want you to promise me you won’t run, okay? Mom will be home soon, and if she finds out you have her favorite pair she will not only be mad at you, but mad at me for allowing things to get this far.”

 As he rises from the couch and slowly approaches the coffee table, he moves to the right side of it and proceeds to slowly turn left, not to startle who’s on the other side of the table. He keeps his hands out, trying to act inconspicuous and non-threatening.

 It’s all in vain; Dodger seizes his chance and bolts to the other side of the table, taking off like a rocket to escape from his dad’s clutches. Chris sighs and groans in frustration, muttering under his breath. “Not again… Dodger!! Come back here!” He calls and runs after the dog, trying to catch up to him as they move through the house, going room to room.

 As he tries to get closer to the dog it becomes apparent why he was doing the chasing. In the dog’s mouth was a pair of jeans- Not just any jeans; a nice, dark blue pair that you love and adore. You found them in a store in Sydney, and they not only felt nice, but they were fitted comfortably and just a down-right sexy pair of jeans. You wouldn’t only be annoyed, you would be furious.

 Chris accidently left the wardrobe door open this morning as he was getting dressed, and the next thing he saw was Dodger shooting out from the walk-in with your jeans, fluffy tail flung high in the air as if he was proud of himself for getting such a precious gift- a treasure that he could keep. No amount of bribing such as walkies, extra food, play time or affection would sway him. He was determined to have your pair of jeans no matter what. Chris also tried pleading and begging, which normally Dodger would listen to and drop the item at your feet. But this time he just wouldn’t budge.

 Chris stops by the kitchen door, bracing himself against the doorway and slightly puffing, looking across the room at Dodger. The puppy is at the back door trying to get the big glass sliding door to open, which thank heavens it wouldn’t as it was still locked. Taking the few minutes to breathe, he looks at the watch, seeing the time and freaking out a little more. He has 35-40 minutes tops to get Dodger to let go of the jeans and check the damage before you got home. He pokes his head back into the lounge room to see Mikey had fallen to sleep while watching Mr. Squiggle. With a relieved sigh, he turns back to the kitchen to notice Dodger trying to creep away slowly. “Buddy, you stay right where you are.” As he starts to try and slowly approach the dog his phone rings, drawing his attention.

 Looking up at the ceiling and sighing in frustration, Chris digs his phone out of his back pocket, wondering who could be calling. He swipes the screen to see your name, having a mini panic attack as he thought of all the possible reasons for you to be calling now.

 Glancing up at Dodger and saying, “Noo, stay!” Chris watches as Dodger sits with jeans in his mouth, drool landing on them as his head tilts to the side, as if to ask what was happening to their game of chase. Finger on the receive button Chris takes a breath and swipes, “Hi babe, what’s up?” He puts a smile in his voice, still eyeing his puppy.

 “Hi hun, I just wanted to let you know that the shopping is done and I’m in the car on the way home right now.”

 “Oh really? That was quick.”

 “Quick? You think this trip was quick? Anyway, the reason I’m coming back earlier than planned- other than getting all the groceries- is because a random person approached me as I was walking to the car and said being the weight and size I am isn’t healthy for me and my baby. Like really I only have a slight baby bump and everyone decides that just because I’m not skinny or model size, or the fact that I have bloody curves makes it okay to criticise me?!”

 “Babe ignore them,” Chris says reassuringly. “The doc says the three of you are healthy and he’s happy with your weight right now.”

 “I know, I told the person to mind their own business and move along. Then quickly packed the car and I’m on my way home now.”

 “How far out?” He eyes Dodger again.

 “Oh, 15 minutes.”

 “You’re hands free, aren’t you?”

 “Yeah, of course! Anyway, I pulled over on the side of the road to chat with you, so see you soon babe. Bye.”

  As Chris hangs up, fear and shock hits as he looks to Dodger, who is looking seriously at him. “Buddy, I need those jeans back now. She will be here in a few minutes,” They both eye each other with the kitchen table in the middle. Dodger at one end and him at the head of the table. “We have no time for games.” As he moves to the left slowly, Dodger moves to the right, going the opposite way.

 To anyone walking in right now, it would look like a weird dance routine performed by a man and his dog chasing each other around the table, changing directions and going the other direction. They both stop in the middle of the table, staring each other down and trying to predict which way the other will go. Seeing an opportunity he glances at his watch, noticing he has 6 minutes left before you come back. As soon as the thought enters his mind the sound of a car’s engine approaching- paired with the sound of the garage door opening- had the both of them looking at each other with surprise. They both look towards the door in the kitchen, which lead into the laundry and then the garage.

 Looking back at Dodger, Chris frantically motions to him to come closer. “Give me the jeans Dodger, please give me the jeans so all I have to do is put them in the machine and wash them when she isn’t looking. Pleassee?” The sound of bags rustling and keys jiggling causes him to realise that he had no time. He takes a chance and goes to the left, putting everything he has into getting to the other side and surprising Dodger enough to get the jump on him.

 Dodger, whose focus was on his mom coming through the door any minute, didn’t notice until Chris let out a chuckle, “Ah haa!” Dodger’s head moves from the door to Chris, and his eyes widen. He quickly turned around and went back into the living room, but seeing as Chris had such a head start he didn’t get far before his dad finally caught him around his waist, moving his right hand to the dog’s mouth and grabbing the jeans letting out a cheer. “Yes!”

 “Honey I’m home!”

 “Hi sweetie.” The sound of bags being placed on the kitchen bench comes before the sound of your shoes heading back to the garage. The boys both let out a sigh of relief, and Chris turns his focus back to said jeans in hand. Dodger takes his chance and wiggles out of Chris’ grip, trying to bolt forward, but seeing as Chris still had a hold on the jeans he didn’t get far. Again he and Dodger eye each other, the pup letting out a muffled bark and his tail wagging at speed as to say, “Play!!” Tug of war started over your jeans, him with one leg and Chris the other.

 Meanwhile you come back into the kitchen. “How was your day, hun?”

 “Was good,” Using all the muscle and strength he had, Chris pulls Dodger closer to make a final grab for them. At the same time you’re asking more questions, and Chris has to take a breath and answer, trying not to sound like he’s exhausting himself for her to ask what was going on. He describes the day he’s had and how Mikhail was a gem to look after.

 “That’s good, I will need a hand though for the groceries please.”

 Dodger tugs twice and pulls in a move Chris isn’t braced for. The tugs cause him to nearly lose his balance. Knowing he has to answer, he hisses through his teeth, “Be there in a minute hun, just a bit busy.”

 Your footsteps change from heading towards the garage to stopping with your question. “Is everything okay Chris?”

 “Yeah, just need to grab this thing first before I come and help you.” As he gives three tugs on the jeans to pull Dodger back to him. To their surprise the puppy moves within a foot of his dad.

 “If you're sure?”

 “Yeah, it’s fine.” Chris says, voice exhausted and strained. “Come on buddy, just give me the jeans!” He whispers to Dodger. Both parties give more and more tugs, trying to get the other to let go. During this war, they both pull at the same time, both using all their strength to pull the jeans their way. The sound of bags being placed in the kitchen and footsteps coming and going surround them, panic and fear of if or when you will try and find Chris and see this scene, makes him put more into the next few tugs. In doing so he hears a rip, and as Chris looks to the jeans he watches in horror as the jeans start to rip from the main crutch.

 The more Dodger tugs, the more the ripping noise and the rip gets bigger until the material can’t take the tugging and pulling from either side and it gives. The jeans tear in two, the sudden shock of the material giving causing both to fall on their bottoms. Dodger lets out another muffled bark and his tail wags in high gear, thinking he’s won the game. He gets up on all fours and starts to jump and run around in joy, what was left of the jeans in his mouth.

 All noise in the kitchen stops. “Chris, what was that noise? What was that ripping noise?” Your footsteps make their way towards the lounge room and as you stop just behind your husband, Dodger seeing you and running to her to show you his prize. Chris can just imagine your face, the look of surprise and giving Dodger rubs and scratches.

 Then your eyes see the jeans with a look of confusion and then horror. “Hun what’s this in Dodger’s mouth? they look familiar? Are they- Are they my pair of jeans that I can’t find anywhere else? The jeans that I had bought online and had them delivered to my mom’s house, and then had her deliver to me here? The ones that I have tried to find more pairs and I can’t get any as they are so popular?” As you turn around to look at him with the other leg of the jeans, she gasps at the site of the jeans ripped in two.

 Chris immediately starts talking, not stopping to breathe. “Babe I can explain! Really, I forgot about Dodger and the wardrobe door was open as I went to get Mikey ready for the day, and I remembered seeing him enter our room, and next thing I know he had the pair of jeans with him and I tried I really did to get them back, have him give them to me but nothing worked-” Your hazel green/brown eyes lock onto his, the hazel as completely gone and the green in your eyes was in full force. That only happened when either your temper was in full force or when you were emotional or just randomly sometimes depending on your mood.

 He sighs, trying not to moon too much, but god he loves it a bit when you lose a bit of your temper- and when you went on a rant, he couldn’t help but find it a bit of a turn on.

 Getting back to the scene before you, you sighed and closed your eyes, taking deep calming breaths and knowing that getting mad wasn’t going to solve this problem. You know you needed to keep your blood pressure down as your left hand moves to your slightly swollen belly with twins inside, rubbing in soothing motions. With a deep breath your eyes open and look to the ceiling in frustration before coming down to both Chris and Dodger. Not too far apart Dodger notices the tension in the air and knows something is wrong as his mom looked at him in disappointment, making him hang his head in shame as he knows he’s in trouble.

 “Chris, I warned you about that, geez!”

 “I can’t do what you do! You have this secret power over Dodger, you tell him to sit and he sits, you give him the look and he just obeys! It’s a thing to behold!”

 Laughing in frustration you look at him. “It’s because I have had years of experience with naughty dogs and cats. I know how sneaky, smart and manipulative they are with their puppy dog eyes and how successively Dodger uses it on you. For example, it’s all about the tone and making sure you’re letting your dog know who is alpha in the pack.”

 You look straight at Dodger. “Dodger!” You call in a slightly lower tone. “Look at me, Dodger!” The pup looks at you, and you hold out your hand. “Release.” Dodger looks at his mom and gets up, walking a bit towards you and dropping the jeans into your hand before backing up. “Sit” He sits, and you walk towards him and slowly go down on one knee, and looking Dodger in the eyes and giving his head a pat. “Good boy,”

 You give that spot behind his ears a good scratch that gave him a bit of ecstasy as you pull away and slowly get back up again. You look at your husband and let out a laugh, his face was in not only shock but he knew his eyes had a glazed look about them, as seeing you doing that made him fall in love with you all over again. Looking straight at you he says, “God I love you!”

 Letting out another laugh you just smile and shake your head in exasperation. “We’ll talk about this later. Can you bring it the heavy stuff in please?”

 “What? I thought you promised me you weren’t going to do any heavy lifting?”

 “I didn’t, I got one of the staffers at the store to place them in the car!” You protest.

 As Chris rises and moves to greet you with a hug he leans his head against yours, breathing in your shampoo as he turns his head and kisses your temple. He puts his forehead against yours to look into your eyes, hands cradling your face. “I love you so much babe.” He leans back and has his hands move to your belly as he goes down on one knee. He leans his face to your belly. “Good morning little ones, Daddy says hi and love you very much!” He smooths his hands over it, and his hand touches the side of her belly that makes your whole body twitch and jerk. Chris always insists it’s your ticklish spot, but it is more of him touching a part of you that hits a nerve in you back.

 “Stop it,” You laugh, whacking him in the shoulder. Glancing up at you with a devilish smirk, his face lets you know he has plans for you and those sensitive spots you have on your body tonight. He raises his eyebrows suggestively, and you smirk. “Besides, you still need to bring the rest of the things inside.”

 Grinning, Chris rises with his hands still on your belly. “Mommy wants me to show off my muscles by doing the heavy lifting.” He brings up his arms to flex said muscles.

 “Huh? Yeah hunny, as much as all this and you turn me on, can you bring the last of the shopping in please? I am heading to the toilet, I really need to go.” You quickly move towards the bathroom. When you finish you look to Dodger. “Come on buddy, let's bring the stuff inside before Mikey wakes up from his nap time!”

 @always-an-evans-addict @ilovethings-somuch @theycallmebecca @mycapt-ohcapt 

[tatooedlaura-blog]

Fourteenth Christmas

the series is as follows so far:

First … Second … Third … Fourth … Fifth … Fifth Christmas, Part 2 … Sixth … Seventh … Eighth … Ninth … Tenth … Eleventh … Twelfth … Thirteenth … Fourteenth … Fifteenth … Sixteenth … Seventeenth … Eighteenth … Nineteenth … Twentieth … Twenty-first … Twenty-second … Twenty-third

———————–

Only Mulder would suggest the Phillipines for a Christmas holiday when Scully was thinking, at most, maybe, maybe Hawaii, to escape the darkness. They’d pulled down a fair amount of money consulting on the FBI case and the pair of them decided a vacation was in order. Scully off-handedly suggested Hawaii, Mulder tossed two plane tickets to the other side of the world on the bed one night.

She hadn’t argued and now, at this very moment, they were shaded by palm frond umbrellas with their feet in the Pacific Ocean roasting their ever-loving asses off while everyone else they knew in the world was buried under two feet of snow.

Clinking glasses with Mulder, “pretty sure I’m never going home. I wonder how to resign from the hospital without having to actually move more than a quarter inch from this spot?”

“Just don’t go back. Eventually they’ll realize you aren’t just taking a really, really long lunch.”

With a grin, she took a deep pull on her straw, rattling both ice cubes and tiny umbrellas, the alcohol sliding smoothly down her throat, “a few more of these and I may just forget I ever had a job in the first place.”

“Drink up.”

As they lay there, nothing but ocean ahead of them, Mulder unconsciously rolled his ankle several times before Scully reached her fingers over, touching his wrist, “do you still feel it there sometimes?”

“Like fucking ghost shackles. Right now, one ankle actually feels heavier than the other and I tell myself I’m an idiot but still, I gotta lift it up just to make sure.”

Crawling her hand up to hold his, “well, you’ll never get it back now. You are free and clear and as far from any of it and them as you could possibly be.”

His mind wouldn’t let it go but he swallowed his anxiety and gave her a smile, “better knock on some wood there, Scully.”

“Never took you for superstitious.” Her eyes danced in his direction, “unless you’ve been throwing salt over your shoulders for years in secret.”

“I always sweep up when I’m done.” Taking her drink and setting it on the table on his other side, he then stood, beckoning towards the waves, “come on, I want to go see if I still remember how to body surf.”

About to let him go so she could keep relaxing in the sun, she saw the hope in his eyes and immediately bounced up beside him, “right behind you.”

He stared at her fully from head to toe and back up, eyes dragging clothes off, imaginary tongue tracing her soon to be showing tan lines, his hands toying with the smooth skin of her breasts …

If he didn’t get in the water right now, he was going to have an issue.

&&&&&&&&&&&

On their row boat, the one that came with their little over-the-water hut, Mulder had packed a lunch, several blankets and plenty of sunscreen. The rowing had been a damn chore but seeing her lounging across from him, sun hat low, turquoise bikini turning his brain to mush, he couldn’t think of a better way to spend the rest of his life.

They’d been buzzed by a helicopter with National Geographic emblazoned on the side, taking what Scully assumed to be program footage but Mulder, swallowing hard, waved but wondered if maybe the camera was meant for them, following them, tracing their whereabouts, tracking them to the ends of the Earth.

Scully chased that thought to the back of his mind, however, when she undid the front string of her bikini and let it fall to her sides, full breasts bared for him and him alone. Immediately abandoning the oars, he threw a blanket on the bottom of the boat and proceeded to remove the bottom half of her suit with his teeth.

He then used his tongue to get her to yell his name for absolutely no one in the world to hear but him in possibly the most erotically charged thing they’d ever done. He then dropped his own suit, sliding into her as the boat drifted across the crystal-clear seas with no destination in mind.

&&&&&&

That night, however, lying naked under the gauze canopy surrounding their bed, he woke, terrified, a nightmare the likes of which he hadn’t experienced in years clenching his throat, squeezing his heart and lungs to twisted wreckages. Scully looked justifiably terrified as well, gripping his fists inches from her face and chest, stopping him moments before he apparently would have beaten the living hell out of her.

When Mulder could finally comprehend where he was and remember how to get oxygen to his brain, he pulled away from her, sliding across the smooth, wooden floor until he came in contact with the rounded wall, sliding down it to rest on his back end in a crouch. Catching her breath, she moved to get out of bed as well, follow him, hold him but he held up his hand, “don’t.”

“Mulder?”

“Just … don’t. Not yet.”

Reaching over to the chair, she pulled on a tank top and a pair of Mulder’s basketball shorts, cinching them up tight around her waist before she sat down on the floor, leaning on the bed, a respectable distance from her shattering partner, knowing he would call her when he was ready.

It took awhile but eventually, he managed to meet her eye. All it took was that half-second connection for her to scoot across the floor, sliding in between his lifted knees, dragging a beach towel with her to settle over his shoulders before moving to hug him. He accepted her touch, gathering her up, her warm flesh against his chilled skin, fear making him colder than he should be for the climate. Scully, feeling the sheen of cold sweat, coaxed him to stand, pulling him to the bed to lie down. He burrowed into her, hiding his head in her breasts.

“Mulder? Mulder, hon, please, tell me what you were dreaming?”

She so rarely pulled out the ‘hon’ that it caught his ear and he released his strangle hold on her waist, “did I hurt you?”

Pulling his head up slightly, she kissed his damp hair, hand combing behind his ear, “no. I’m fine. I promise.”

“They were coming for us. That damn helicopter was spying for them and they found us and they came in here and were trying to take you and …” shutting his eyes and pressing his ear to her heart, “they’re not taking you from me again.”

“Of course, they aren’t. There isn’t anyone who really wants us anymore. We don’t have to hide. We can go on vacation, get jobs, go to the store.” Taking his face in her hands so she could look at him, “when we get back, so help me God, we are going to the grocery store, then we’re going to go to an actual bookstore, then, to go totally wild, we’re going to eat at Mickey’s Diner and not just stop for the takeout.”

Having finally gotten some semblance of his faculties back, Mulder met her eyes, wishing it were all true and hanging on her words as if they were golden hooks of truth hung from heaven itself. Scully recognized that look and slipped from his grasp for a moment, shedding her meager clothing to press against him fully, she continued her ministrations to his splintered psyche, her fingers running over him, kneading a muscle here, ringing a collarbone there until he came back to her all at once with a Mulderesque quip, “but I don’t actually miss the grocery shopping.”

With a relieved groan, she snaked limbs and torso over him, the warm ocean breeze floating through their room, chasing away the last vestiges of chill from his skin, “what happened?”

Having thought he was long past hiding his dreams from her, he hesitated, “I already told you.”

“No, I mean, was it really a simply helicopter that brought on your first nightmare in years or has this been happening and it’s the first time I’ve been around for it?”

Mulder settled his lips against her forehead, “first nightmare but I’ve … I’ve been … ever since … I’ve been … wondering about things for a couple of months … maybe the last year?”

“Wondering what?”

“If maybe things aren’t as finished as you think.”

Her body shivered despite the climate as this idea bored itself quickly into her soul, “why do you think that? Has something happened you didn’t tell me?”

“No, no … I … I think I’ve just been in that house too long. Maybe I need to do the grocery shopping after all.” Hugging her to him as he felt another quaver pass up her spine, “I’m okay. Just … it was just that stupid black helicopter … hovering there.” Fingers playing up her bared ribs, “I’ll go hunt down the supermarket as soon as we get home and dinner at Mickey’s sounds great.”

“I know you know I know you’re full of shit, right?”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“Should I stop questioning you for now?”

No anger hiding behind his words, “yes, please. I just want to see how much of your skin I can taste before you demand a good, hard fuck off the side of the bed.”

Despite her misgivings and concerns, his blunt proposition told her that he was swimming his way slowly back to being Mulder and the wet rush at his whispered ‘taste’ melted her into primal compliance.

&&&&&&&&&&

The next morning, she woke late, sprawled from one end of the bed to the other, foot dangling, bare ass warm from the hint of sun passing through the gently flapping curtains. Lifting her head to look around, she noticed not only was she alone but there was a mysterious, wrapped package on the nightstand. For a brief, terrifying moment, she fleetingly wondered in this could possibly be some kind of package bomb, explosive container, alien virus.

Well, fuck.

Shaking her head, she realized the thing was wrapped in plain brown paper and had Mulder’s handwriting all over it. Rolling to her back, she immediately forgot any kind of dark thoughts, “Mulder?”

His voice carried from downstairs, “up in a second.” Patiently waiting in that way she’d learned with him by their second case, she smiled when he walked into the room stark naked, carrying a tray with fruit, bread, cheese and water, “Merry Christmas!”

Sitting up, she let the sheets fall where they may, giving Mulder a view he drooled over a little but kept his cool, walking just a little faster to the bed to kiss her good morning, “Merry Christmas, Mulder!”

Settling tray and himself, he then handed her her box, “happy 14th Christmas.”

First popping several grapes in her mouth, she removed the paper, revealing a box which, when opened, revealed another box, which, in succession, revealed a third box and finally a well-packed, stained-glass, heavy and beautiful cross, complete with starburst sunrays in the most brilliant of reds-orange hues. Holding it up, catching that stray beam of sun that had warmed her earlier, the ornament glowed, “God. Mulder. It’s … beyond beautiful but I don’t have a word for that right now so it’s …” mesmerized, she trailed for a second before, “I found my word … it’s radiant.”

Mulder beamed himself a little here, reaching out to spin it gently, “I had them pack it like I’d be shipping it home. That’s why there were so many boxes but I thought it might be fun to have to work a little for it.”

Poking him in the shin with her toe, “make me work for my Christmas gifts. That’s just mean.”

“But you still love me.”

“Yeah … I know.”

Watching it a few more seconds, she then lay it gently on the pillow, rolling off the bed to amble to her suitcase, digging then retrieving her own gift. Handing it over, “I bought yours with me.”

Always giddy for a gift, he tore into it, finding an ornament replicating the United States. Squinting towards it, he then looked at her, “are all these dots what I think they are?”

“Yes. It matches, as best I could anyways, the map we made years ago in your apartment. That’s everyplace we’ve been together, both on cases and vacations and even while we were running. I had to update it from the one on your wall a little, given we had another 10 years of travel after.” From his smile, he didn’t mind that she’d included their ‘on the lam’ destinations, “I thought it’d be a good reminder that I’d follow you anywhere, anytime.”

Crushing her in a sudden hug, he apologized quietly again for the previous night, then kissed her, tasting grapes and cheese on her tongue, “and I’d follow you.”

[misshowel-blog]

The Blue Wolf - Chapter 3

A Grey Vixen

It was a chill night for downtown Zootopia. The normally mellow nightly weather had given way for a brisk breeze sent by the cloudless night sky. There were no stars up in that vast void, none that could be seen anyway. The city's own ever changing rainbow of lights swallowed those little flickering bodies of star shine. Nick had popped the collar of his thick, cosy jacket in an attempt to keep the crisp wind from slithering down his spine. His hands were buried in his pockets, ears low, shoulders high up and relatively tense. From a passerby point of view, he simply looked keen to avoid the cold. Huddled and hurrying to get home. Perhaps to kick his paws up. Watch a show. Have a beer. Scratch an itch.. For Nick however, those tense shoulders weren't the symptom of the breeze nipping at him as he shuffled down the street. They were caused by a horde of thoughts thundering through his mind. Of a thousand troubles weighing him down. Of one little bunny's fate, resting on his shoulders.

Needing an escape, his eyes found their way to the darkness above. That jet black ceiling of a sky. The endless nothingness seemed so solid, as though one could touch it and feel how heavy it was. That sky had seen millions of years pass. It was a thought daunting enough to give him a fair amount of pause; definitely enough to make him stop trudging through town. Drawing a slow, deep breath, he could feel the chill air fill his lungs. He needed to sort this out. He'd jumped - or rather stumbled over - the first hurdle. No doubt there would be reservations and doubts from the ZPD. He'd stretched it out time-wise. He'd gotten progressively worse to be around and work with over the course of roughly a week. It had been draining enough that he'd not done much else but sleep when he got home. Mostly nightmares. Some good dreams though. Enough to keep him going. That's what he had to do, no? It was done, he was out of the ZPD. No one outside of the ZPD would know he and Judy are friends. Were friends? No, are. Are friends. Despite everything.. Or because of everything. Or everything, is because they're friends. A sigh followed a quick grunt as he continued down the street. He had to get his act together. He needed to get to Alexei. From what he'd heard in the past and from what he'd gathered on his own now, there was no doubt that the wolf in question had his fingers in enough criminality to warrant putting him away for life. That was a given. However, the trouble was that Alexei had 'friends' in just the right places. Circumstantial evidence, witness reports, hearsay - it never stuck. That wolf was no courtroom virgin, he'd been on the stand plenty; and he'd always walked away a free mammal. However, no amount of judge friends could keep a criminal on the street who has been caught red-handed. Who can be proven, without the shadow of a doubt, to be a criminal. Video and audio was the way to go. If he could just somehow slip into Alexei's empire - unnoticed - and catch him on tape doing or saying something that proves how much of a criminal he is.. A small twitch of a smile ghosted over his lips. Taking down a notorious criminal on his own was absolutely terrifying; yet sort of exciting. He could enjoy it, if it hadn't come with such high stakes. Taking a sharp turn, Nick then pushed a door open to enter a pub. It was a dingy old place. Dimly lit. Dust in the corners. Dodgy guests. The atmosphere was heavy with aggressive tension, cigarette smoke and dark chatter. His eyes stung slightly as he moved about in the somewhat toxic air, sneaking past tables and slipping through crowds. Finding a small empty table in the corner, he took a seat and put up shop. Good old game swindling. It was second nature to him. These pebbles, these cards, they bent to his will. It was the most lucrative form of magic. The trick was to let them win, just a little. No one likes an unbeatable game after all. They have to decide to play again, you can't force them. Confidence is key. Generosity is rewarded with answers. Every night, Nick went to different places to hustle and ask questions. He'd laugh with them, comfort them, offer them drinks and advice. In return, he got answers. Just not the right ones. Sure, he got snippets of general information about places where general illegal dealings went on, and that's what happens when you have to ask fairly open and wide questions. Too straight forward and the wrong mammals find out, guaranteed. It was slow, tedious work. Occasionally his mind would drift off and wonder what Judy was up to. It usually didn't last long, as the thought was tainted by shame of how he'd treated her. He needed to move on. He needed answers. The fourth night rolled in and Nick found himself in the corner of a rather large and busy bar. It was fairly well-kept for this part of town. These neighbourhoods weren't the nice ones. Barely half decent. Here criminals bled out in the gutter and muggings were simply a part of life. This pub was in slum territory. The other places he'd been to hadn't exactly been fine-dining, but this had an entirely different air about it. There was suspicion everywhere. Vixens and lionesses served drinks and flirted with the customers. Money changed hands without drinks being involved. Eyes everywhere. Ears everywhere. However, he had to endure. They didn't know him. Hopefully. "Hey there young lady, fancy a game?" Nick asks cheerfully, gesturing towards a small grey vixen with a sour look. She'd been observing him the past three games with customers. Him, not the games. That was key. He'd take any lead by now; once this was over, he never wanted to see his old bag of swindlers' games again. "Come now, don't be shy. I don't bite." There was a tease in his voice and he could see her roll her eyes. At least she got up from her seat, that's something. It was a fairly grim looking vixen. Ripped jeans, white top and black leather vest with a popped collar. Not at all like the other vixen in the place who were quite dolled up and presented as eye-candy for drooling males. She took a seat by the table, firmly folding her arms on it. She was a tad short for the chair she was sitting on, but somehow he felt like he really shouldn't comment on that. "What's your bet?" "Fiver." If he wasn't absolutely sure he'd never seen her before, he couldn't sworn she had a grudge or something against him with that cold, piercing look she was giving him. There was even a hint of a crinkle over the ridge of her nose. Contempt? Disgust? He couldn't tell. Maybe it was simply her resting expression. The vixen had shifted to place a crumpled and slightly torn fiver on the desk. Nick resisted a chuckle and instead drew a breath. "Hookay, a fiver it is!" Nick moved to place the cups on the table, presenting a pebble. "Keep an eye on this little bugger," Nick tapped the pebble with a cheeky smile. "And you'll earn yourself ten bucks." His hands moved quick as a breeze, eyes locked on his customer. There was no need to look at the cups, he'd done this so many times before, it was all muscle-memory. The customers were always too busy trying to keep track of that one cup that they simply couldn't notice the pebble switching cups, or disappearing completely. "So," He started as he'd finally set the shuffling cups down, presenting them to her. "Which one will it be?" The wide smile vanished in the blink of an eye as the vixen help up two fingers, the pebble lodged between them, and a quite intensely irritated look in her lime eyes. "I don't like it when folks try to trick me." Putting the pebble down on the wooden surface of the table, she flicked a finger into it, skipping it over to Nick, over the edge and onto his lap before leaning in ever so slightly, her voice hushed. "And there's a lot bigger canines out there, who like it even less." Sliding off her chair, the small vixen headed out the door, her bushy tail swaying from side to side. Nick watched her leave, his ear twitching at the sound of the bell at the door jingling as she stepped outside. His eyes followed her through the window, ears perked, and it was only when he almost tumbled off his seat that he leapt down, pulled on his jacket and headed out the door, not bothering to gather up neither the fiver nor his swindlers' bag. Outside the air was brisk and the wind rather strong. Squinting against the wind as headed down the street, he wore his ears flat against his head. She took a turn. Slithering around the same corner, he only just caught glimpse of her hand in a passerby's pocket. Another turn. Rounding the corner, he froze for a moment. Gone. Rushing to the next alley, he peered down it, relieved to see that bushy tail slip around another corner. His paws barely made any noise as he quickly made his way down the alley, keeping up with her while keeping out of sight. Even as she entered a 24-hours grocery store, he kept up. If he hadn't been so focused on keeping his eyes on her, he probably would have felt silly, ducking under stacks of bananas and hiding behind shelves of canned foods. She hadn't noticed him yet. Good. The vixen was helping herself to all sorts of food - amazing what she could fit in that vest of hers. Outside again. He could feel his eyelid twitch as she screeched a claw against the side of a car while sipping her stolen juice. Not a care in the world. It didn't seem as though she had a plan with where she was going. Neither did he, really. It was just that phrase. Bigger canines. What did she know? Did she know anything? Was it a warning or a threat? He had to know. Picking up his pace, it was getting more difficult to keep up. She'd practically race down the street, swiftly diving into alleyways. Nick is forced to run in order to keep up. In and out of view. Sudden turns. Climbing over fenced off alleyways. Narrow streets. As he was just about to climb another fence, his chest heaving from the strenuous chase, he's stopped dead in his tracks as a figure thumps down in front of him. He could feel a pressure and tug around his neck as he's forcefully yanked down, finding himself eye-to-very-much-angrier-eye with the grey little vixen. A low rumbling growl echoed in the narrow alley and he could feel a sharp claw up against the soft underside of his jaw. Nicks' hands instinctively went up to the typical 'I surrender' stance, eyes wide as he stared at the angry fox. "Keep followin' me and we'll both find out if I can jam my finger straight up through here into your mouth." A silence fell, as if she was waiting for a response. Her ears were pulled back, her tail twitching irritably. "What the hell are you followin' me 'round for? Speak!" As much as it was tempting to simply pull out an easy-to-reach sly comment, he had to play this smart. Letting out an almost unimpressed snort, he gave her as stern a look he could muster. "You probably want to put that finger down, miss. I'm an undercover police officer, and I've got plenty of evidence to put you behind bars if I feel like it." The vixen frowned in an irritated, yet confused kind of disbelief as she let go of him and all but pushed him away from her. "There's no fucking way." Crossing her arms over her chest, she shifted her weight onto one paw. "Proof. Now." There was a soft patting heard from her tapping her paw against the concrete below. Nick huffed a bit as if insulted that she wouldn't believe him. He opened his jacket just enough to slip a hand into the inner pocket, fishing up and holding out his badge for her to see. He'd kept it as a keepsake of sorts. Probably against the rules, but what did he care. Dishonorable discharge and all.. Not officially, but, still. Officially it was just a normal discharge. A good, old, normal 'you're fired'. "Happy now? I am a cop." He put the badge away again, zipping the inner pocket closed. Better safe than sorry, he didn't want to lose it. It seemed to convince her well enough. "Alright. So, what do you want. To, you know, not feel like putting be behind bars." Even if it was slight, she'd relaxed a bit. A cop was just a cop after all, and not a crazy stalker or murderer. Not that she'd ever had a stalker, but still. She'd heard enough stories to last a lifetime. "How about your name." It just slipped out. That, was not his priority. Perhaps that was just his mouth telling his brain he found it a hassle to refer to her as 'the angry grey vixen' in his mind. "Abigail." She raised an eyebrow at Nick, looking quite indifferent. What was even a cop doing out here, and why was an undercover one bothering with her? Perhaps all her endeavours had started catching the wrong kind of attention... Which was any.

"Nick. Nice to meet you, Abigail." All he got for that was a look that said she thought the exact opposite. Well, she had been the one to stare at him for half an hour, so it was basically her own fault she was there with him right now. "You said something about bigger canines." Nick observed her closely, his tone a bit more serious. "Were you threatening me?" Watching her with narrow eyes and slicked back ears, his tail swept along the concrete and gravel of the alley. Abigail shook her head with a roll of her eyes, a light snort leaving her. "No you idiot. I was warning you." A quick shrug. "Ya know, fox to fox." She didn't look at him as she spoke, instead she was strangely focused on a graffiti tag on one of the walls. Nick threw a glance at the tag on the wall before turning his focus back to her again. "Do you know Alexei Volkov?" He took a small step towards her, almost looming over the smaller fox. "It is, very important that I find him." There was a darkness in his voice even he wasn't used to. In the moment, it felt like he could do anything to pry information from this mammal. If she withheld information, she was an obstacle he needed to clear. "What, know him?" Abigail seemed appalled by the thought. "He's a fucking maniac! I don't run with that. And I sure as hell ain't a snitch." She moved to walk past the other fox, only to have him step into her way. Sending a glare up at him, she snorted. "I don't, know him. Now get out of my way." "But you know of him. And only someone involved can be a snitch!" By now Nick was holding out his arms to keep her from walking past him. "You know, we have really tiny jail cells over at the ZPD. I think you'd fit pretty snugly." There was no amusement in his voice as he spoke through a snarl, not caring that she gave him a deadly glare. That struck a nerve, apparently.

"Look." She crossed her arms over her chest again, a disgruntled look on her face. "I met him once or twice. Happened to be nearby, sort of. He's a real piece of work." Her arms slipped down, her hands burying themselves in the pockets of her vest. It was getting a bit cold - this getup wasn't especially warm. "He was chattin' 'bout how he was moving to Zootopia, how it was a viable market, or target, or whatever. Probably both." Abigail crossed her arms again, not able to decide which position was warmer. "Owns a couple of shady businesses. That's it. That's all I know, alright?" Nick seemed as though he didn't know if he ought to be squealing with joy for his first real lead, or terrified over the fact he's just found his first real lead. It was a bit conflicting, and it showed on his face. Snapping himself out of a whirlpool of worry and excitement, he looked down at Abigail again. "Where is he?" There was urgency in his voice. "Where, is he? Where is his business? What is he doing? I need more information!" Met with silence, a quiet snarl left him. "We have mouse-sized cells and I swear to all that is holy that I will cram you into one!" "Easy chief! Easy!" Abigail's hands had gone up in surrender, her sour expression exchanged for a more uneasy one. She didn't like being trapped, and the thought of a mouse-sized jail cell was enough to make her queasy. "I, know a guy. I do some work for him. He oughta know more." Once the other fox had relaxed, she felt enough at ease to light herself a cigarette. This was too much stress for one evening. Even heists were more relaxing than this bloody circus. Taking a drag, she sighed out the smoke through her nose. "But you ain't getting no information for free. You gotta work for it." Looking him over closely, she then raised an eyebrow with the tiniest hint of a smirk. "Also, you can't go 'round as Nick bloody Wilde, the only fox cop in town. You need a new identity. And a new outfit." Nick frowned as he looked down at himself, stroking down his jacket, shirt and tie. "I suppose I am a bit recognisable." He buttoned up his jacket. "New clothes it is. As for the identity.." He thought about it, scratching the back of his head before perking up with a smile. "How about Luke Pawton?"